Thursday, August 22, 2013

Dogs and Spiritual Materialism.




As the world goes increasingly mad, humans are losing the ability to connect with each other in deep and meaningful ways.  That, my friend, is why there is so much dog shit on the sidewalk these days.

Humans resist the moment.  Dogs embrace it. Dogs lack a cerebral cortex, the “thinking brain” that distinguishes humans from other species. It makes life simpler. I entertain no doubt that dogs are well-connected to The One. All they need is a little sniff, and they befriend each other. They do not have a human brain that gets in the way. As poet Robert Sward puts. “In a world of NO, Dogs are YES.” (Shelby the Dog http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zlQBEwJabCg)

Heidi, who has never been locked in a trunk.
We have all heard someone say, “That’s bullshit. My dog is smart. He can think. He knows just how I feel, and he knows just what I want him to do.” That is a fact.  Dogs are the ultimate co-dependent companions. They will play into whatever racket their masters harbor in those semi-conscious vaults where they hide their “stuff.” Dogs will play emotional games that stable friends and lovers simply will not play.  “Lock your wife and your dog in the trunk of your car. After an hour, who's happy to see you?” (Unattributed)

For the most part, a human can gain complete control over a dog, and the dog will not develop a resentment.  Resentments are a uniquely human characteristic. A dog will express anger when its fear button is pushed.  So will a human.  But, a dog will not make up a story about the anger.  He will not act on anger in unrelated ways. A dog does not take hostages, take momma’s machine gun to the local elementary school and kill children. He does not run red lights, rape and kill his girlfriends children, or seduce his neighbor’s mistress because he is angry about the cost of a new set a tires for his pickup truck. He just bares his teeth and growls. Or, he poops on the rug. We humans are not allowed to do that. We go shopping instead.

Dogs do have some human characteristics. They will decide on an arbitrary enemy and attack. Ask any mail carrier. Unlike humans, dogs do not justify their attacking with religious, economic, or political principles. They just go for the juicy leg. Dogs do not have political arguments. They do not kill for Jesus or for Mohammed. Dogs do not buy up all the water packets in the Front Range, or start wars in the Middle East to control the price of oil. They just snap at anything that comes between them and their food. Dogs practice what Brad Blanton calls Radical Honesty.  http://www.radicalhonesty.com/
 
Why do humans find honesty so difficult? Perhaps it has something to do with "original sin." Lots of old-time scholars see the apple of Adam and Eve as “knowledge,” or “consciousness.” Eve bit the forbidden fruit, and so began the mental processing that has resulted in all human accomplishments, and all human failures. Mental processing has given us many wonderful things. I am particularly fond of the motorcycle. My good friend Kamala has four cell phones and two computers. Many of us stay in touch through social media, like FaceBook. However, we cannot deny that the world is going increasingly mad. As a species, we may have stretched our nerves past the breaking point. So, we become interested in finding our way back to what is simple and enduring. We want to nestle into our spiritual center, so we seek the stairway to enlightenment, which, by the way, is the subtitle of David. R. Hawkins’s wonderful book, Transcending levels of Consciousness. http://veritaspub.com/product_info.php/transcending-the-levels-consciousness-p-155

So, you ask, how do dogs help humans overcome the impediment of spiritual materialism? The Human Brain, or cerebral cortex, requires that we humans find a stairway to enlightenment. Dogs, who lack this particular bit of grey matter, are born enlightened. The thinking brain is the very thing that enables us people to feel separate from The One, or whatever name you wish to call it. I’m here. God is over there somewhere. The old poets, like Rumi, Hafiz, and Ib'n Arabi knew that all desire is a sublimation of the desire to reunite with The One. It’s the essence of the hole in the doughnut. Although any dog will eat a doughnut, they are not at all interested in the hole. The dog is one with everything simply because it does not bear the burden of a human brain. 
 
Spiritual materialism is a by-product of the Age of Marketing. One of the Great Follies of our time, The New Age, has packaged the stairway to enlightenment in many high-profit forms. For a price, we can fill the hole in the doughnut with crystals, magick, mantras, workshops, retreats, forums, cards, runes, Enneagram readings, books, vision quests, sweat lodges, Sufi dancing, cabala lessons, witchcraft, raw food, enemas and a dozen other hipster raves.  This idea, that one can buy methods for using the very tool that separates us from The One – the human mind - to find our way back, is called “Spiritual Materialism.”  If you pay attention to corporate media, you have noticed that Madison Avenue has discovered the trick. We can get a transcendental experience from driving fast in an expensive car on the right tires. We will find love if we buy the right toothpaste. We can find a soul-mate who looks like an unshaven gay underwear model or an airbrushed Playmate if we fly XYZ airlines to a vacation destination on some island in an azure blue sea. Non-profits have picked up the idea of spiritual materialism as well. We can save the world by donating to starving children, well-digging missions, Green Peace, politically-correct lobbyists.  It’s crazy-making.

That’s why so many people go ga-ga over dogs now. Humans resist the moment. Dogs embrace it. Humans are seduced by nerve-wracking technology. Dogs get excited when a food bag rattles. Humans have to work hard to buy excitement. Dogs simply sniff. Humans are desperate to find enlightenment. Dogs are there already.

Saturday, April 6, 2013


Airhead

 In truth, Smiley is a tribute to significant eras of my past.

The 1991 Airhead, whom I have fondly named “Smiley,” looks great sitting in the garage. Smiley has a shiny blue paint job, sleek lines, a low-slung elegance with a moderne sheen. He has some power, but nothing like the K bikes or the Oilhead.  Cracking a ton is an effort.  Although Smiley is a monoshock model, he simply does not handle like a modern bike. He will go the distance, but he lacks the adjustable ergonomics of the later models.  The windscreen tilts manually, but not enough to block the turbulent flow, even with a nifty re-curved after-market screen. The seat is in a fixed position, nearer the pegs than on the Oilhead. 

 My first BMW was a basket case /5, which permanently cured me of Triumphs. Whilst living in California, I formed a significant relationship with The Airheads, a group of scalawags centered in San Diego, CA.  The editor of their magazine, one B. Jan Hoffman, penned a column named “The Luddite Screed,” which, in two words, describes the Airhead Attitude. 

When I fled California just before the turn of the century, I encountered the New England Branch of the Airheads, personified by Siouxzanne Harris. Like every other male BMW rider in New England, I was smitten with her. The feeling deepened when I visited Buzzard’s Crest a decade later, discovered a steel building full of Airheads, and a treasure trove of tools and parts assembled by Sioux’s late husband Voyle. 

During the current century,  I’ve owned several K bikes, an Oilhead named “Butch,” and an F650 Dakar named “Felix.” While riding the more modern machines, I’ve encountered Sioux and her retinue of Airhead admirers at rallies across the country. Merriment always ensues. Now that I have returned to the Airhead fold, Siouxzanne informs me that she will be riding an R1200 GS. Well, at least she’ll be able to keep up with me now.