by Angry_Chimp » Sun 09 Mar 2008, 06:24:18
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')That may be true of "sucesses" of ignorant people, but again they're not Nirvana. {If you're noticing something, is that Buddhism is redundant and that Nirvana is mostly explained by what it is NOT.} If you already attained Nirvana, then you don't feel pity towards non Buddhas, you feel so much compassion towards non Buddhas that your only intentionality of becoming eternal is so that you can teach others the Path towards the cessation of suffering. Therefore you have become (this is not mainstream Buddhism but is in accordance with the spirit of it and the etymology of Buddhist words) a Boddhi-satva; someone that trascended even it's own attainment of becoming a Buddha by sharing it and now teaches to others Boddhi-nature.
As in any religion, the adept "swears by"" it because he has lived it; the therapy is "true" because it is a lived experience explained by concepts that seem perfectly to fit it, that give form to what the patient actually is undergoing.' [271-272].
'It is no wonder that when therapies strip man down to his naked aloneness, to the real nature of experience and the problem of life, they slip into some kind of metaphysic of power and justification from beyond. How can the person be left there trembling and alone? Offer him the possibility of mystical contact with the void of creation, the power of "It," his likeness to God, or at the very least the support of a guru who will vouch for these things in his own overpowering and harmonious-appearing person. Man must reach out for support to dream, a metaphysic of hope that sustains him and makes his life worthwhile. To talk about hope is to give the right focus to the problem. It helps us understand why even the thinkers of great stature who got at the heart of human problems could not rest content with the view of the tragical nature of man's lot that this knowledge gives. It is today well known how Wilhelm Reich [1897 - 1957] continued the Enlightenment in the direction of a fusion of Freud with Marxist social criticism, only to reach finally for Orgone, the primal cosmic energy. Or how Jung wrote an intellectual apologia for the text of ancient Chinese magic, the I Ching. In this, as Rieff has so bitingly argued, these men are of lesser stature than their master the great Stoic Freud [Sigmund Freud 1856 - 1939].32"
'....The critique of guru therapies also comes to rest here: you can't talk about an ideal of freedom in the same breath that you willingly give it up. This fact turned Koestler against the East,39 just as it also led Tillich [Paul Johannes Tillich 1886 - 1965] to argue so penetratingly that Eastern mysticism is not for Western man. It is an evasion of the courage to be; it prevents the absorption of maximum meaninglessness into oneself.40†' [279-280].
"this brings up the second great problem raised by the therapeutic revolution, namely, So What? Even with numerous groups of really liberated people, at their best, we can't imagine that the world will be any pleasanter or less tragic a place. It may even be worse in still unknown ways. As Tillich warned us, New Being, under the conditions and limitations of existence, will only bring into play new and sharper paradoxes, new tensions, and more painful disharmonies—a "more intense demonism." Reality is remorseless because gods do not walk upon the earth; and if men could become noble repositories of great gulfs of nonbeing, they would have even less peace than we oblivious and driven madmen have today. Besides, can any ideal of therapeutic revolutions touch the vast masses of this globe, the modern mechanical men in Russia, the near-billion sheeplike followers in China, the brutalized and ignorant populations of almost every continent? When one lives in the liberation atmosphere of Berkeley, California, or in the intoxications of small doses of unconstriction in a therapeutic group in one's home town, one is living in a hothouse atmosphere that shuts out the reality of the rest of the planet, the way things really are in this world. It is this therapeutic megalomania that must quickly been seen through if we are not to be perfect fools. The empirical facts of the world will not fade away because one has analyzed his Oedipus complex, as Freud so well knew, or because one can make love with tenderness, as so many now believe. Forget it. In this sense again it is Freud's somber pessimism, especially of his later writings such as Civilization and Its Discontents], that keeps him so contemporary. Men are doomed to live in an overwhelmingly tragic and demonic world." [281].
'What are we to make of a creation in which the routine activity is for organisms to be tearing others apart with teeth of all types—biting, grinding flesh, plant stalks, bones between molars, pushing the pulp greedily down the gullet with delight, incorporating its essence into one's own organization, and then excreting with foul stench and gasses the residue. Everyone reaching out to incorporate others who are edible to him [existential cannibalism!]. The mosquitoes bloating themselves on blood, the maggots, the killer-bees attacking with a fury and a demonism, sharks continuing to tear and swallow while their own innards are being torn out—not to mention the daily dismemberment and slaughter in "natural" accidents of all types: an earthquake buries alive 70 thousand bodies in Peru, automobiles make a pyramid heap of over 50 thousand a year in the U.S. alone, a tidal wave washes over a quarter of a million in the Indian Ocean. Creation is a nightmare spectacular taking place on a planet that has been soaked for hundreds of million of years in the blood of all its creatures. The soberest conclusion that we could make about what has actually been taking place on the planet for about three billion years is that it is being turned into a vast pit of fertilizer [see 2909]. But the sun distracts our attention, always baking the blood dry, making things grow over it, and with its warmth giving the hope that comes with the organism's comfort and expansiveness. "Questo sol m'arde, e questo m'innamore”. This sun burns me, and enchants," as Michelangelo put it....' [282-283].
"Modern man is drinking and drugging himself out of awareness, or he spends his time shopping, which is the same thing. As awareness calls for types of heroic dedication that his culture no longer provides for him, society contrives to help him forget....
We can conclude that a project as grand as the scientific-mythical construction of victory over human limitation is not something that can be programmed by science. Even more, it comes from the vital energies of masses of men sweating within the nightmare of creation—and it is not even in man's hands to program. Who knows what form the forward momentum of life will take in the time ahead or what use it will make of our anguished searching. The most that any one of us can seem to do is to fashion something—an object or ourselves—and drop it [stuff it] into the confusion, make an offering of it, so to speak, to the life force."
~Ernest Becker