Dashboard Buddha: Jon Stewart Edition

"Jesters do oft prove prophets.”

--Regan, King Lear Act V, Scene III

Fig.1 American Buddha?

I read somewhere that to take the Buddhist path requires developing a sense of humor. Humor helps you let go of pride, laughter erodes ego. Obviously, that went a long way with me. Laughter is my drug of choice. I laugh so heartily and consistently every morning and evening watching my favorite shows that my sister’s quaker parrot learned to perfectly imitate my chortles of joy. If I don’t get boisterous at least once a day, I feel stagnant. Heart half-full. If I can laugh all the way to enlightenment, then show me the way.

Jon Stewart has said in a few interviews that a person’s sense of humor only goes as far as their ideology. He explains that sometimes people come up to him and say they love his show and think he’s hysterical except for the time when he made a joke about global warming. Or abortion or foreign policy or last night’s episode of American Idol.

The Buddha says “Attachment causes suffering.” People get offended about things they have a personal affinity for, their attachment to it sucks out all the humor, and they suffer in the form of anger or resentment.

Why do Creationists want to discredit evolution so much? Why do scientists roll their eyes at the idea of intelligent design? Why do Man U fans verbally abuse Chelsea fans at football games? Why did I despise Tina Fey with relish when I heard she dissed Jon Stewart even though it was clearly taken out of context and she doesn’t actually harbor any ill will toward the man in any shape or form except perhaps a bit of envy that he’s so much more iconoclastic and clever and influential than she?


Fig.2 Rescue me from ignorance

Each party feels that the Other holds sacred certain ideas that encroach upon beliefs. Our beliefs, which we hold so dear, are very personal and we perceive them as an extension of ourselves. If someone attacks our beliefs, it’s an attack on our own existence.

As self-proclaimed “equal opportunity satirists,” Jon and his Daily Show crew have ripped into everything. Nothing is sacred except the almighty Laugh. He’s the classical court jester: the only person (simply by virtue of being the Fool) allowed to call out the King by poking comedic holes in his actions and policies. The Fool has very little ego and frequently depreciates himself with pratfalls, laughter, and general tomfoolery. He doesn’t care about his reputation.


Fig.3 Make fun of thyself

A speaker on the Path of the Ekayana podcast once concluded that Buddhism has a joke at its heart. One of the speaker’s teachers—one who always seemed to have a little smirk on his face—said that when you become enlightened (that is, once you don’t care about ego), you get all the jokes. Ultimately, that’s what Buddhism is: getting all the jokes. Everyone should aspire to be the Fool.

That said, everyone should care.

I wasn’t intending to sound cryptic. The best things in Buddhism come in Yoda koans.

The Fool, in fact, does care. He may even care more than anyone else. The trick is to hold that caring like an egg in the grip of the mind. He holds it gently and considers it in its entirety. He holds it long enough to find the flaws and cracks, then remembers that the egg is not an extension of himself. He is not the egg. He is not the anger or worry or disgust. The egg is there to spur the insight to learn or to take action... or make a joke.


Fig.4 All in a jester's day's work

The Buddha once told his monk buddies that they should use his teachings as a raft they leave behind as soon as it’s fulfilled its usefulness. You don’t haul a raft out of the river to cross a desert. The raft would be heavy and would just drag behind you and people would question your sanity. Similarly, if the Fool continues to carry the egg, it starts to rot and people tend to avoid him and his odoriferousness.

But the Fool is no fool. He extracts the joke, then promptly tosses the egg away. It smashes against the wall and everyone laughs. We laugh at impermanence because we inherently know that it’s silly to think anything lasts forever. We laugh at our false perception that an egg can survive being thrown at the wall. We laugh at our false perception that our problems will never end.

Laughter is a little piece of enlightenment, and if Jon Stewart teaches us nothing else, it's that fact.


Fig.5 Simpsonified

Proud To Be Pagan

“This religion is not a joke. We are not what you think we are from looking at TV. 
We are real. We laugh, we cry. We are serious. We have a sense of humor.
 You don't have to be afraid of us. We don't want to convert you. And please don't try to convert us. 
Just give us the same right we give you—to live in peace.
 We are much more similar to you than you think.”
--Margot Adler

Fig.1 Scared yet?

Everything I ever needed to re-learn about witches I learned from Hollywood AND the people denouncing Hollywood. How many dozens of depictions of witches and witchcraft have I seen in movies and TV? About a hundred dozen more negative ones than positive (or even remotely true) ones. Ever since I was a child, I’ve been bombarded with images and portrayals of evil witches in Disney movies, ugly witches in horror movies, bitchy witches, crazy witches, nasty witches, hungry witches who eat little children, and stupid witches in cartoons. They’re always female, they’re always plotting against the hero, they’re always wild and extreme. A “good witch” was an anomaly, not the norm.

I know America doesn’t like to be accused of flatly discriminating against a religious group by disseminating profoundly unverified and monolithic propaganda in pop culture, but it sure as hell is guilty of it when it comes to paganism. I know why: “unbelievers” have long been held up as the “dark opposing force” of Christianity throughout history. Ancient indigenous pagan peoples in Europe were relatively disorganized compared to the rising Christian population and conquest was a two-fold strategy: seize the land and convert the people. So it went for hundreds of years.

America today is by no means the homogenous “Christian Nation” many people insist upon, but its cultural influences are dominated by Christian views. Naturally, pejorative definitions of anything pagan are to be expected, and are usually informed by casual ignorance rather than outright hatred. The fear of pagans and paganism isn’t fear of evil so much as it is the fear of the unknown, and there is plenty that people don’t know about pagans, and plenty of pagan things that people engage in but don’t even know it.

That’s why I was especially keyed up to study pagan traditions. I knew that watching Harry Potter movies and Supernatural on CW wasn’t quite enough.


Fig.2 I'm here for the sexiness, not accurate portrayals of witchcraft

Broadly defined, the archaic use of the term “paganism” includes anything outside the Abrahamic-based faiths, which is pretty damned broad. Hinduism, Zoroastrianism, Jainism, Shamanism, Taoism, Native American religions, Wicca, Vodou, various world folk religions and Buddhism fall under that category. Basically, anything that doesn’t involve Moses or Jesus or Mohammad is pagan. That’s some group!

Obviously, this is the strict Western perspective. The modern definition accepted in a comparative religions course would be any earth-based religion that may or may not include shamanistic, animistic, pantheistic or polytheistic aspects. That eliminates much of the major “world” religions previously included in the list. But it includes ancient “dead” religions such as those that worshiped the Greek, Norse, Roman and Egyptian gods. The rule of thumb, so far as I can tell, is that what we may consider pagan is any religion that does not include adherence to a precise dogma or a specific scripture. There can be oral traditions and stories, or general guidelines as to the meanings behind practices, but there is no organized collection of progenitorial texts proposing to be the “word of God” or divinely inspired by a deity.

When I think of paganism, I have a whole set of images and concepts defined mostly by American Neopagans (specifically, Wiccans), because they’re the ones making all the awesome podcasts and websites. Wicca, while relatively new on the scene (it gained popularity only within the last century), has its roots in ancient pagan belief systems, drawing spiritual figures and ideas from all manner of sources.

Neopagan-based moral beliefs work on an honor system. Because they don’t have any official scriptures to read and get irrationally adamant about, they function by the Golden Rule or the “Wiccan Rede” which basically says, “If it does no harm, do your will.” Therefore, anybody conducting “black magic” or evil hoodoo should know that they’re in for a world of hurt.

Fig.3 A helpful diagram for your altar planning

Wiccan practice is definitely a far cry from anything I see on Supernatural. As much as I adore that show (that’s a whole other blog post for later), I know that the only thing they get right is that paganism exists.

A ritual (which may include spell-casting and meditation) is rich with symbolism, employing elements and objects that may evoke fear in some people: fire, a knife, potions, a wand, etc. But each one is represented on an altar for a reason. A candle flame banishes darkness and can be different colors according to the god or goddess the practitioner chooses. The blade (athame) is double-sided and represents the fusion of male and female. It's not necessarily sharp and it's even understood that if the athame is ever used to draw blood, it must be destroyed. The chalice filled with wine is the female womb, a live-giving symbol. The wand is used to focus energy during a ritual. That broom in the corner is not for riding, but for sweeping clean the circle in which a ritual is to take place. The pentagram contains five points for each of the basic elements: fire, earth, air, water, spirit.

Neopagans worship the Earth, the god and the goddess, respect nature and the spirit within all living things. They value life and freedom and expression. They’re all around us, too.

I wanted to post this entry now because it’s Renaissance Faire season here where I live in old snow-free Florida. I’ve been to the Hoggetowne Medieval fest already, which I’ve gone to for three years in a row with my Gainesville friends. I’m preparing to attend the big Tampa Bay Renaissance Festival in March like I do every year as well. It’s a family tradition at this point, and a deliriously enjoyable one as well.

Fig.4 Fairies keep it in the family

It’s a place where regular Joes mingle amongst everyday regular Joe Pagans without any fear whatsoever on either side. This is not to say that all Wiccans or pagans love Ren Faires or that the people who work there are representative of all pagans. That would be like saying ALL sci-fi nerds love Star Trek and dress up like Spock for sci-fi conventions. That is simply untrue and will probably get you mildly tongue-lashed if said within a ten-foot radius of a comic book store. Not by me, though, I love Star Trek (again, I'll save that for another post).

Based on the wares presented in many of the festival tents and booths--mugs & bowls painted with the names of sabbats, pentacle jewelry, cauldrons, chalices, even witches' hats (they have a sense of humor)--it’s pretty obvious that most the tenants are at least very familiar with pagan culture if they’re not pagan themselves. The art, jewelry, costumes, books, and various appurtenances of Neopagan and earth-based religions are ubiquitous… and completely inoffensive to the festival guests. Sure, they may find some of it fantastical and wild and odd, but it’s expected and generally accepted. The tradesmen themselves are as "out of the broom closet" as they can get at these gatherings, often dressed to the Medieval nines and more than happy to explain the significance of their trinkets.

It’s a breath of fresh (hay, pony, incense, and roasted turkey-leg infused) air.

As a backyard astronomer, I follow closely the movements of the moon and planets and stars. I love gardening and growing special herbs for my meals and teas. I love animals and especially birds for their beauty and idiosyncrasies. I love to meditate outdoors in the open air of nature, under the warmth of the sun. It's not difficult for me to understand many Pagan interests and beliefs. It’s not a stretch for me to recognize the sacred wisdom they seek in their practice. It may seem a stretch for others, and I understand that too. But if you've ever admired the stars, planted a flower, thanked God or the Universe for a beautiful day, or even celebrated Easter (bunnies and eggs are ancient pagan fertility symbols and "Eastre" is the goddess of the Spring), you know more about true paganism than you realize.

See you at the Faire! Blessed be!

Orthodox Jew Reggae stars and Islamic Rap artists and everything in between

"My heart, which is so full to overflowing, has often been solaced and refreshed by music when sick and weary."
--Martin Luther

Fig. 1 I Always thought clothes were overkill

I loved Ridley Scott’s Kingdom of Heaven from my first viewing at the theatre, and it wasn’t because Orlando Bloom gets shirtless in it (that’s just one reason). With institutions like Liam Neeson and Jeremy Irons involved, as well as an uncredited Edward Norton performance and Ridley’s signature mise-en-scene, it’s a masterfully illustrated story about the folly of pride and the human necessity to embrace all nations as one human family.

Perfectly underpinning this multicultural theme is Harry Gregson-Williams’ rich tapestry of a musical score. It seamlessly weaves Celtic, Mediterranean, and Persian influences into a set piece that is earthly for its mix of instruments, yet otherworldly because it makes the many cultures responsible for the different styles feel as if they were never separated by land or sea. A favorite thread in this score is the angelic echoing vocals of ancient choral hymns. I noticed the simplicity set me at ease whenever I was studying or reading, and I wanted more.

A search for Gregorian chants on iTunes yielded my now favorite group Sequentia, an ensemble dedicated to resurrecting the canticles of medieval Europe. Both male and female voices in predominantly acapella performances transport me to a musical plateau of serenity. Whenever I listen, I can practically smell the incense and feel the warmth of the sun filtering through the stained glass in colored shafts of light. As a bonus treat, Sequentia likes to toss in a few instrumental pieces that showcase the sounds of traditional strings and woodwinds.

There’s something universal and profound surrounding them. Perhaps it’s the sheer grace of God, or just the incomprehensible Latin, but I prefer to think it’s the purity of devotion that imbues them with comprehensive appeal. They were performed to praise a higher existence, not to deride or condemn, but inform listeners of the deeds and love of God.

In Mary Doria Russell’s exquisite novel The Sparrow, a young man working in Arecibo for the SETI program discovers a signal sent through space and time from a star system a few short light years away. He realizes that it’s a song, which indicates intelligent life. Scientists, humanists, and a Jesuit priest are all brought together by that ethereal music, and all of them travel to this new world on the Jesuit organization’s dime. For the Jesuits, as an influential and financially capable organization in the story, the mission is about finding rare resources that can be brought back to fund their missions on earth. For each of the characters, the journey becomes a spiritual test as they attempt to discover the source of the songs on a strange new planet.

Reading the book, I was surprised how moved I was by the description of the SETI discovery and it had me thinking for days about how I’d react to such a significant event. Hearing a song from an alien world filtering down through the stars and vast chasm of space would be a singular spiritual moment for all humankind.

Earth itself has a diversity of music that might overwhelm an off-worlder first hearing it. Even if they only listened to the religious tracks, they’d be surprised at the variety. I certainly was.

Podcasts, movies and documentaries may not be alien sources, but they provided plenty of absorbing listening from perspectives I never knew existed. Here’s a spiritual playlist of some of my favorites:



“There Is A Tree” by Carrie Newcomer
I heard an interview with this Quaker folk singer/songwriter on Interfaith Voices a while back, and was particularly impressed by the mystic quality of this song and her rich, earthy voice. It invokes a sense of the profound in everyday life, as does Carrie’s entire album “Geography of Light.” My other favorite song of hers, “Where You Been,” makes direct reference to many faiths, revealing the universality and playfulness of spirit.


“O Quam Mirabilis Est (Antiphona)” by Sequentia
The simplest, most angelic of Sequentia’s tracks. I have no clue what she’s saying, but it doesn’t beg translation. I feel the love, the dedication, the devotion, the joy. It’s beautiful in its musicality, heartbreaking in its purity.


“Hannukah on Hannukah” by Erran Baron Cohen
I read an article on Tabletmag.org (formerly Nextbook.org) on a newly released album in December 2008 that was created to “change Hanukkah’s reputation.” It’s called “Songs in the Key of Hannukah” and upon hearing it once through, I decided I could listen to it all year long. It’s composed by internationally acclaimed DJ Erran Baron Cohen, who cranks up the irony of his brother’s anti-Semitic characters by injecting a proud and somewhat fundamentalist Jewish flavor to this holiday album. Lighting the shamash and eating sufganiyot has never been so hip.


“Mul Mantra” by Snatam Kaur
Whenever I hear this song, I’m reminded of the long trip between New Orleans and Killeen, Texas with my sister and her husband. I stared out at the endless Texan grazing land and listened to the Sikhwithin podcast, where I first heard Snatam Kaur’s soothing voice. Turns out she’s something of a rockstar in Sikh circles, a California-born woman who performs kirtan devotional music on peace-promoting world tours. The Mul Mantra is the essence of the Guru Granth Sahib, the official Sikh text, and within its few words, contains dense layers of spiritual concepts. Snatam is such a gifted singer that simply hearing her version of the chant without any previous knowledge of Sikh theology, one can sense the depth and emotion and history suffusing it.


“Welcome Home” by Hamza Peréz
Featured in the excellent PBS POV documentary New Muslim Cool, this inspirational rap serves as a primer for leading a righteous life after leaving jail. Informed by Hamza’s own story as a Puerto Rican ex-drug-dealer in the streets of Pittsburg who converted to Islam, this song cuts through to the core of spiritual conversion: to change your life for the better, forever. The film demonstrates the injustices visited upon Hamza’s mosque community as well as the strength of brotherhood and sisterhood they have to endure life’s hardships, and how Islam always guides them toward kindness and standing up for themselves.


“I Will Be Light” by Matisyahu
Matthew Paul Miller, known by his Hebrew name Matisyahu, was influenced through a youth equally defined by Bob Marley and yeshiva, and his music seamlessly sews together reggae-flavored instrumentals and vocals with Hasidic Jewish theological themes. Another Interfaith Voices discovery, this song, with its “dreadlocks to sidelocks” backstory, struck me as a powerful testament to the dynamism of religion and how beautifully it can evolve and inspire each new generation.


“Jesus Is Just Alright With Me” by The Doobie Brothers
I just really love this song. It’s very catchy. Its spiritual message doesn’t detract from its pop cred at all. Anyone can listen to it, whether you’re Christian or not, because it’s stripped of dogma. It’s a simple story of finding Jesus as a friend, and no matter that I’m a Buddhist, I can still agree that Jesus is just alright.


“Pal Pal Hai Bhaarii” by A.R. Rahman
This one is on the soundtack of the excellent hindi film Swades, and it’s from the scene featuring the Ramlila, the traditional play about Lord Ram’s life and adventures. The lyrics are based on the classical storytelling style and as usual, A.R. Rahman’s underlying score defines itself as anything but simple accompaniment. Find the translation of the story on Bollywhat.com and you’ll enjoy the full impact of the lyrics, both dramatic and mystical.


“Sacred Stones” by Sheila Chandra
Oddly enough, I first heard this song on an episode of Queer As Folk, and it was played during a slow-motion sequence meant to give some pause to the usual fast-paced beats that pump through the heart of Babylon, the characters’ nightclub of choice. I noted its singularity among other songs featured in the show and discovered the meditative quality it had. It’s just the kind of song you’d hear playing in the background at a yoga class, but it constitutes more than your standard ambient vaguely South Asian-flavoured white noise. It combines a handful of religious chants in one song to exemplify the tonal, and, incidentally, the spiritual similarities among them. Listen closely.


“Muestro Senyor Elohenu” by Yasmin Levy
Listening to Vox Tablet one day at work, I heard the story of a woman whose father painstakingly preserved thousands of traditional Sephardic songs sung in Ladino—a Hebrew-Spanish language, an Iberian version of Yiddish. Having a Puerto Rican background myself, and a pretty sharp ear for music, I was struck by the instant visceral reaction I had to her voice. In her interview, she described how her feet stood in three worlds—Israel, Arabia, & Spain—and her multicultural influence was so evident in her songs, the unification of which brought me to tears. It still does, every time. Her music, especially this song, is a manifesto for the brotherhood of human life.


“Twilight and Shadow” by Howard Shore
The Lord of the Rings trilogy is no doubt three of the most spiritual and soul-searching films of any generation, and the music reflects themes as diverse as the races of Middle Earth. I find this track one of the most essential because it distills the complex bittersweet tone of the entire story into a sad but hopeful hymn that you could drop into a list of songs by Sequentia and not know the difference.

The iPod as the Third Eye

“I was in yoga the other day. I was in full lotus position. My chakras were all aligned. My mind is cleared of all clatter and I'm looking out of my third eye and everything that I'm supposed to be doing. It's amazing what comes up, when you sit in that silence. 'Mama keeps whites bright like the sunlight, Mama's got the magic of Clorox 2.’” --Ellen DeGeneres

Fig. 1 I think, therefore, iPod

Hardcore meditators spend a majority of their time attempting to open the sleepy lid of the “third eye,” what the Hindus call the ajna chakra or insight energy center. It’s the most popular metaphysical organ that allows one to gain insight on experience that goes beyond what is physical reality. Traditionally, this most intuitive place on the human body is located right between and above your regular eyes, contrary to the common belief that it is in the gut. It’s a long-standing idiom that guts have shit for brains, which qualifies it for instinct, not insight. The head eats, the gut digests. Just like with food, the ingestion of thought really shouldn’t be reversed.

The third eye, when not possessed of retinal problems or chronic dryness, can provide anyone with great wisdom about how the universe works as well as quell irrational thoughts and fears. It educates and enlightens and gives you the most legitimate reason to sit on your ass for hours doing absolutely “nothing.”

If you are not quite jived about gluteus numbness, there’s some good news. There’s a compact, portable electronic device which can provide you with hours of insight and knowledge with the spin of scroll wheel(showing my age with that one, aren't I?). It also contributes to millions of peoples’ raging gadget envy everyday.



Fig. 2 No one can resist

I bought my first iPod the moment they came into existence. Freshman year, Thanksgiving present to myself. It was worth every penny of the $400 price tag just to see the faces of joyous jealousy around me. Five gigabytes of hard drive gave me the power to carry around my entire music collection in something the size of a deck of cards. At the time, my collection was much more modest than it is now.

After getting acclimated to the concept of listening to anything my heart desired at any moment anywhere, I noticed I could only listen to my favorite music for so long without getting bored or getting infected with one too many musical earworms. Luckily, I stumbled upon the precious Dead Sea scrolls of electronic audio: podcasts.

Fig. 3 The Qur'an tops the charts

Learning about religion is learning a language. When studying any language, it’s always best for a student to hear the voices of people speaking in their native tongues. Podcasts provide the best listening.

I encountered a whole new lexicon of delicious ten-dollar terminology (chametz, dukkha, and transubstantiation are some of my favorites) and you not only have to know definitions, but how to work with religious grammar. Muslims always follow any mention of the Prophet Muhammad with an alayhis salaam (a wish for “peace and blessings”), “Nirvana” cannot not be used interchangeably with “Heaven,” “Zen” should be capitalized, and out of deference, the Jews tend to type “G-d” when referring to the one who says “I am what I am.”

English degree. Forgive me my anal retention.

While we're at it, let me introduce you to what my film prof might have called the Barthes Paradigm. This method--which I just based on the philosopher and semiotician Roland Barthes’ archetype of textual analysis--assumes a long list of subject associations for any cultural reference in works of art or expression that enriches the work, especially if the beholder already has background contextual knowledge or has the initiative to explore it.

It’s not a mind-numbing as it sounds.

Say you’re watching Caddyshack and you skip to the sequence where all the caddies are allowed into the club pool from 1:00-1:15. At one point, a swimmer tosses a Baby Ruth into the water, and mistaking it for human excrement, all the other swimmers start to freak out. Throughout this sequence of shots, an ominous two-note tune escalates until the last person in the pool realizes that he’s come face-to-face with the offending candybar.

Fig. 4 It's not so bad

On the surface, this scene is funny because of the irrational fear of a very inoffensive foodstuff, but for summer moviegoers and any viewer who is in the loop of American culture, the scene has an extra level of humor wrapped up in the usage of that simple music choice. The implicit joke of that tune assumes that the viewer has a certain familiarity with the first American summer blockbuster Jaws, which was released in 1975, only five years before Caddyshack. Playing that tune imbues the candybar with the even more irrational and hyperbolic abstract concept that turd-shaped chocolate-dipped nuts and nougat is as dangerous as a ginormous great white shark. Also, it humorously illustrates the current Michael Pollan doctrine that all processed foods are crap.

Sucked all the calcium out of the comedic teeth of that scene didn’t I? For our final thesis, my prof made us write 26 such explanations—one for each letter of the alphabet—for a classic Hollywood film from the 40s. I couldn’t watch The Philadelphia Story for years afterwards.

Fig. 5 Movie gods

Luckily, on the internet, the Barthes Paradigm is in a most obvious state of full swing. You go to a page, you read a block of text, you see a word or phrase colored in a way that indicates that it’s a link, you click on it, and it instantly pops up with a whole new page associated with that word or phrase. The cultural referents are imbedded for you. The medium is the message, right? I may not have Marshall McLuhan standing next to me to confirm this idea, but I’m not as lucky as Woody Allen.

The podcasts work in the same way. You listen to one, and they will often refer you to another cast, blog, website, book, movie, TV show, documentary, or a magazine, creating arteries that branch into veins and capillaries that deliver you to the most detailed and specific areas of the religious body. That body just happens to be in a shape of a Möbius strip.

Fig. 6 Forgive me, Father, for iSinned

After stumbling upon a Los Angeles-based Buddhist monk videocasting from his zendo in Koreatown and listening to a Catholic priest from Holland discuss doing an overseas interview using Skype, it’s extremely difficult to continue convincing yourself that religion is stuck in medieval times.

Even after teaching devotional prayer in public schools was banned in the 60s and people quit going to Sunday school for fear of waking up before eight o’clock on a weekend, traditional thousand-year-old religions had not, in fact, been cast down. They had sublimated into binary code, and they are easily accessible no matter how culturally homogeneous your surroundings.

God is in the machine, and It works in ones and zeros.