He said this:

“All your troubles arise due to one cause. You are wrong about yourself. You take for true what is nothing but a story. A beautiful, wonderful, amazing story; but, a story nonetheless. It’s a fiction, no more real than the play of light on a movie screen. This is the ground from which arise those mischievous idols of doership and agency that you take for granted and serve without reflection or examination. 

“You are so in thrall with all this self-created drama you haven’t realized there is a choice.

“Either, to serve the ego-mind, associating yourself with those of like kind and at the effect of the fictions of mine and yours, praise and blame, gain and loss, rewards and punishments.

“Or, Truth.”

They were astonished at the simplicity and directness of it. They challenged his assertion, “Truth? Just what is that?”

He replied, “I don’t know to say. Certainly not my truth, nor yours, nor anyone else’s for that matter. Simply Truth itself.”

Again, they asked, “How then will we know it is the Truth?”

“You will know it because of the one incontrovertible fact. Truth is true. It is directly self-evident.”

Finally, they asked the essential question, “How do we realize this for ourselves?” (Those who were willing to consider his point, anyway.)

“It is the simplest thing. You are That. Nothing to be done, really. Relatively speaking, just stop fueling the fire of the ego. Take away your attention from it.”

Nothing more was said. Or, need be said.

Some Sherso! So Shi(r)tzy

This is dedicated to that great “comicatura”but, only when she’s in the moodsoprano Sarah Levine Simon (Click here for her website. Be sure to look at the inspired YouTube videos under Recipes ).

INSCRIPTION: If every oyster in the sea only heard the serenity of the deep there would be no pearls for my lady. It takes a storm to stir things up to get that little grain of sand going.

First, listen to this.

Then read my wonderfully (riotously?) hilarious commentary.

Followed by a much needed musical chaser.

In these postmodern times there are many ways to appreciate that particular scherzo. If you cheer with the audience then you are definitely postmodern ("whatever") due to possibly not being born before the Reagan administration. If you think this schatzie’s sherso is really rather shi(r)tzo, then you are definitely not of the postmodern “whatever” sensibility. If you’ve been reading too much Deridda on the can [while you are on the commode have yourself a good Foucault as well] you might be someone who assumes our beauty queen is simply bringing some pre-postmodern irony to her interpretation. Or, a lame homage to Victor Borge. Really? No? Whatever.

Regardless where you come out in the taste wars, you have to admit—while he may not be the looker—Vladamir is prettier.

Now, enjoy. Really!