The Incredible Disappearing Buddhist, or, why Buddhists suck

It happened again. Someone, clearly serious about making a purchase, is about to finalize when the fact of my disability comes up (I’m in a wheelchair). And then they bolt.

As a maker of goods sold on the Internet, that I am disabled is not immediately obvious. That the goods I make and sell are prayer beads makes the religious identity of the bolters, the ones who can’t bear to have their beads contaminated by disability cooties, completely obvious.

They’re Buddhists. All of them.

The title of this post is somewhat unfair. I chose it, frankly, to grab the readers attention, and not because I think all, or even most, Buddhists suck. I’m pretty sure not all Buddhists are scared of crip cooties. Probably most of them aren’t. But this concession is purely theoretical, because every Buddhist who has learned I am disabled has bolted, and no one from any other religion has done so.

Are you, the reader, shocked by this? I’m not. Buddhists have a karma problem.

As I’ve mentioned before, karma, stated as “what you do has consequences for yourself”, is difficult to argue with. It’s essentially a spiritual restatement of cause and effect.

The problem comes when people mix up their precedents and anticedents. The above statement inverted, “what you experience is the consequences of what you have done”, does not mean the same thing. Inverted karma is anything but inarguable. Accepting the “truth” of this inverted karma means necessarily the rejection of the concept of justice.

Many Buddhists go a step further. They believe in karma cooties — that it is possible to somehow transfer karma from one person to another, or from a person to an object. Hence, my beads have crip cooties. Upon learning this, one should bolt. Or so they think.

I have seen karma cooties, as an idea, taught by Tibetan Buddhists. I don’t think it is a universally accepted Tibetan doctrine, though it may be. I’ve also seen it adopted widely by Buddhists not of the Tibetan lineage, as well as, of course, by the whole of the name-it/claim-it “The Secret” nonsense so loved by many New Agers. It spreads easily because it validates any bigotry already extant in its adopters. It lets organic food munching, Democratic-voting, ex-hippie middle class liberals explain to themselves that it isn’t that they hate those people. Heavens, no! They’re not bigots. They’re just feel that it is necessary for any particular instance of those people to work out his or her own negative karma, without any interference from those whose better karma comes from, among other things, ancestral genocide and bloody contemporary imperialism.

I refuse to believe that Buddhists, in general, operate this way. I refuse to believe it because, regardless of professed belief, almost every human is in possession of a still small voice within, that lets them know what is right and wrong.

But that’s all it is: a belief. I’ve never actually seen any Buddhist observe, and then repudiate , their own inclination toward bigotry. I don’t actually know that Buddhists have examined, and rejected, inverted karma and the notion of karma cooties. When I dealt with Buddhists in person on a near-daily basis, I was able-bodied (and young and pale skinned) and this issue never arose. I have no relevant body of evidence to examine as a disabled person except the sampling of Incredible Disappearing Buddhists I’ve seen as a prayer bead maker. If I am compelled to base my belief on my factual knowledge alone, I am forced to conclude that Buddhists are assholes. Still, cherished beliefs, on both sides of the basic human decency divide, die hard. I’ll stick to my conviction that an entire world religion can’t have all gone off the moral deep end unless the evidence in favor of what I disbelieve becomes too overwhelming to ignore.

And this brings me to a related topic, one that I had been playing with in my head, trying to find the proper words for, when yet another Disappearing Buddhist came and went. As is happening too often these days, someone in dire financial straits posted to a board I frequent. She was in despair, and questioned everything she once believed. After a series of not always on-cue, but sympathetic, responses, a believer in inverted karma piped up. Predictably, the inverted karma true believer dumped all over this poor woman.

The inverted karma devotee felt good afterward. Or if not good, at least superior. Anybody else with an intact conscience who witnessed the incident felt some indescribable combination of rage, compassion, and nausea.

And since I still can’t find words for the incident, I’ll leave it just as it is right now.

I’ve been on what appears to be an anti-religion run for a few posts. I’m nowhere near as anti-religion as the last few posts might suggest. I’ll have to post what I like about existing religion soon, to put things into better perspective. Yes, I even like Buddhism, a lot, though not several of its problems.

Practical Internet Privacy: DuckDuckGo and Ixquick

Yes,Virginia, there is life after Google. And in particular, there is search after Google without having to leap from one privacy-denying behemoth to another.

DuckDuckGo is one privacy friendly search engine. DuckDuckGo is a pared down,no-nonsense search engine reminiscent of early Google.  THeir privacy policy starts “DuckDuckGo does not collect or share personal information. That is our privacy policy in a nutshell.”

I sometimes found DuckDuckGo to be too spartan in results  — but then, I’m sometimes inclined to search for obscure, difficult to describe, information, and then find it on page 65 of a Google search. For more common searches requiring far less persistence, DuckDuckGo’s pared down results are a definite timesaver.

You can try DuckDuckGo here now:

DuckDuckGo logo

DuckDuckGo is a search engine that protects privacy and has lots of features.

Ixquick.com produces more Goolesque results, but with a very un-Googly privacy policy. It bills itself as “the only search engine that does not record your IP address”. Ixquick’s sister search engine, startpage.com, is more than Googlesque  — it is Google’s search results, anonymized and served up without tracking cookies.

Try Ixquick here now:

Ixquick
Web This Site


Which of these search engines do I prefer? All of the above. Sometimes I want to cut out the clutter and go straight to relevant results.Other times, it is in that “clutter” where I expect to find my answer tucked away. With Firefox, I can add all of these search engines to my browser and pick whichever search engine most suits me on the fly. Either way, I don’t miss Google anymore.

One more thought about the rise of the anarcho-religious impulse

I don’t see a lot of people policing the law of gravity. Physicists, sure, try to clarify the distinction between sound physics and unsound physics (a divide that is sometimes easy to make, and sometimes much less so). But no one is concerned that, if the physicists’ efforts to  keep physics on a sound footing should falter, then gravity will cease to operate and we’ll all find ourselves, our possessions, and our athmosphere lofted into space amidst the remnants of exploded stars.

We know gravity is real. It just is. It’s as wild as wild can be.

It is then bizarre to my eyes that so many persons put so damn much effort into enforcing their view of the spiritual. It’s as if by their effort they betray their underlying conviction that Spirit does not exist, that all that they do, they believe, is perpetuate some extended hoax for reasons of public order.

If they did know the Divine was real, would they not know that it just is (or to put the same in theologically more familiar language, that “I Am that I Am”)? If they knew that Spirit was real, wouldn’t they relax and just let God run wild?

I think their own words and deeds reveal their “religious but not spiritual” status.

More on spirituality and the rise of Homo Anarchus

If religion is evolving into a nonhierarchical form, as I argued in my last post, the most obvious objection is that, with no one in charge, spiritual error will proliferate.

Of course it will. Most of my blog is dedicated to pointing out the folly of much of what’s called spirituality these days. I write about it not because it’s good for a laugh. I write about it because much spiritual folly hurts people. I’m not talking about damaging some nebulous salvation in the future — I’m talking concrete harm in the here and now. Some suffer physical injury and death at the hands of fake (and self-deluded)”shamen” and “healers”. More intangibly, but often just as destructively, others suffer devastating self-esteem issues when, no matter how much positive thinking they obsessively affirm, and no matter how recklessly they spend in order to prove their faith, God the Vending Machine doesn’t  deliver on material possessions.   Still others, having been exhorted to make contact with the spirit world, are left to deal with destructive invisible entities on their own.  And some find themselves in way over their heads after being encouraged to dabble in mysticism (which may be the least dabble-friendly activity there is, short of nuclear plant operator). I’ve tried to, in person, help some of those people who’ve been harmed by teacher-wannabes and outright frauds. There’s nothing nebulous or far off about the suffering spiritual quackery causes.  Suicide is not a theological abstraction.

So doesn’t this mean we need formal religious authorities to prevent all this spiritual malpractice? Absolutely not. Why? Because formalization of spiritual authority tends towards the formalization of spiritual nonsense.

We humans fancy that if we tinker with a few externalities here and there, we can save ourselves from our own folly. Human folly is a much more intractable problem than that. While it’s not hard, if one is attuned to such things, to recognize persons of spiritual depth, it is very hard — at the moment impossible, in fact — to find any objective criteria with which we can sort out the wise from the wise-ass. So we reach for academic qualifications — which are completely unrelated to one’s state of spiritual understanding. We reach for theological conformity, which selects for dogmatism. We interview, which lets us separate those who are good at interviews from those who are bad at interviews (and which gives sociopaths who are good cons a leg up). We vote, and select for those who are bland and unchallenging. We let existing authorities select, who then select according to their  sub-and semi-conscious biases, which might include a preference for sycophants, envy of those with greater spiritual depth than themselves, an urge to control, etc.

When you look at how we choose our formal religious authorities, the litany of recent scandals involving religious authorities becomes understandable. Religious authorities are granted that authority through evaluation methods which perform little better than chance. I suspect they’d perform much worse than chance, were it not that the individuals’ own self-selection is better than chance.

Even as we’re selecting authorities who aren’t, we are by these methods  non-selecting persons who speak of spirit and commitment with a true inner voice. Spirituality is wild. It grows within us like an unruly weed, planted by no human act. It blooms in its own season, indifferent to the work of landscapers. Anyone can experience spirit, with or without the permission or acknowledgement of others. Yet our current formal system is as dedicated to weeding out the bright yellow dandelions of spirit sprouting in the lawns of the churched as it is dedicated to planting the cheap plastic flowers in the flowerbed. I’ve been a regular lurker (is there such a thing as a regular lurker?) on a series of blogs written by a woman named Katy, late of the School Sisters of Saint Francis. I feel her desire for spiritual community, and it has been painful to witness at a distance her rejection. The story of what is wrong with organized religion today is as much Katy’s story and the stories of many others unknown to me as it is the story of pedophile priests, ministers making millions, power-grabbing prelates, and everyone from ministers to priests to rabbis to imams to Sri Lankan Buddhist monks calling for genocide against The Other du jour.

The impetus for spiritual community, in other words religion, and even for those making greater and lesser commitments to it, is a bona fide human impulse. The rise of the spiritual individual in no way negates the inherent value of religion, no matter what some of us may say they think. In fact, far from being the final rejection of religion, I think the “spiritual but not religious” phenomenon is the early foment of a new religious impulse, one which recognizes and honors the wildness, and universality, of the spiritual. What form(s) this new expression takes I can only guess at, but I do suspect it will look way more like collective decision making, with a wide latitude for individual expression, than like remnants of imperial Rome, or fragments of the medieval German university system, or transplanted bits of ancient south Asian culture or the culture of the Arabian peninsula. Existing religions, certainly, have the potential to adapt themselves to this new expression. But first they must stop griping about the phenomena and instead admit to themselves that the “spiritual but not religious” phenomenon is made inevitable by the religious but not spiritual phenomena among themselves.

But what of the problem of any yo-yo with a hairbrained idea declaring themselves a prophet? Actually, we in the West have lived with that ever since the conflagrations of the Reformation convinced everyone to declare a truce on burnings at the stake. I managed to find the right people for spiritual advice, on instinct alone, when I was stumbling in the dark. Others subsequently have found me to turn to for spiritual advice, though I hang out no shingle and the only qualification I hold is a degree in “been there” from the university of real life. We’ve been managing, just fine, all of us, without the Authority of the insert-name-here Church. Maybe they’re just now noticing that we never really needed them.

“Spiritual but not religious” reloaded

I entertained myself last night perusing what the net had to say about the “spiritual but not religious”.  It seems that a lot of people just don’t get it.

No, I’m not talking about the usual New Age crowd of spiritual dabblers. Of course they don’t “get it”. But the spiritual cowboys of the world don’t get it with or without a religious affiliation (and keep in mind many of them do have one). The ones who seem to be struggling with the concept — who reduce it entirely to that stereotype of mere dabblers — are religious figures.

I am not someone in opposition to religion, per se. In fact I see it as a valuable thing. I wish I were a member of a spiritual community. It’s not indifference, stubbornness, ignorance, or the absence of spiritual maturity that makes me a soloist. It’s that established spiritual communities — both religions and their monastic subsets — have failed miserably at adapting to the 21st century.

Information is no longer scarce, yet religions are mired in a previous era of information scarcity. Fundamentalists maintain artificial scarcity with the threat of hellfire and damnation on the one hand and an information-deprived alternative religious media on the other, but the rest of us move in a world where texts and communities to discuss them with 24/7, are only as far away as the length of  g-o-o-g-l-e-dot-c-o-m.

We have a historical precedent for what happens when previously scarce information becomes less scarce: the invention of movable type. Few areas of life were affected as profoundly by that invention as religion. Prior to the invention, books were rare and precious things, produced by scribes and guarded by an elaborate hierarchy of scholars, who were largely conterminous with the hierarchy of the Catholic church. While I do not doubt that a millennium or so of dominance fosters corruption, it is unfair to the mediaeval Church to portray it an impediment to progress. As long as information was rare, it needed an army of guardians, and that is what it found in the Church. It was the Church that kept learning alive and made progress possible: that ultimately made both the printing press, and Martin Luther, inevitable.

Movable type democratized learning, religion, and politics, because if information is available to anyone who had the opportunity to learn to read and the money to buy a book (i.e., to the middle class) why then should decision making not also be in the hands of those who understand the questions of the day? Books made hierarchical religious monoculture obsolete.

The internet takes the devolution of power one step further: it anarchizes information. Information is free, or nearly so, for anyone who cares to make the effort. In such a situation, even “democratic” structures  look oppressive. It is small wonder that the political rebellion bursting out all over has been making decisions, not by majority vote, but by modified consensus. The 21st century human is Homo Anarchus. No one waves a Masters degree in Theology in front of Homo Anarchus and tells it to sit up straight, stay awake,  and stick its donation in the collection basket.

Yet that is exactly what the tone-deaf critics of those who identify as spiritual but not religious are saying. They can’t conceive of community without hierarchy, and see the deteriorating social connectedness brought about by a dying capitalism as identical with the wishes of Homo Anarchus, when instead they should be looking to a mass Occupy assembly as the blueprint for the future. When you ask almost anyone who identifies as “spiritual but not religious” about what it means to them, what you hear is “I don’t want anyone telling me what to think” and “I value community” — essentially the platform of Emma Goldman  and Giovanni Baldelli, transmuted to the religious sphere.

I dream of a 21st Century religion. I crave a 21st century religion. Nothing would make me happier than for me to hang up my self-identification as a monastic without portfolio and, well, get myself a portfolio. A 21st century religion is not unimaginable to me. It is perfectly possible to bond with others on the basis of perennial philosophy and a bucket of tolerance for its myriad expressions and misexpressions. It is perfectly possible to organize on the principles of DIY and consensus.It is never right to force anyone to surrender their conscience in the name of conformity to a religious community, nor is it reasonable to stifle religious expression in the name of conformity to formal procedures.

But religious leaders tsk-tsking about us “spiritual but not religious” can’t see any of this.It is as incomprehensible to them as a superhighway might be to a buggymaker lobbying to keep horseless carriages off the road.

Can we just get it over with and #occupy religion and be done with it?