Sunday, October 7, 2012

Mostly Space


“All phenomena orginate in the mind.”

You often find this in Buddhist teachings. For the longest time, I wasn't sure how to approach it. Like that tree in my yard. I'm pretty sure I'm not projecting it with my mind. Other people see it, and can touch it. So how does it originate in my mind?

Sometimes it's easy to get bogged down in syntax where the teachings are concerned. We can tend to apply very literal interpretations, which is what I believe I'm doing here. I had a moment of insight as I ran at North Ponds yesterday, with an icy wind blowing off the lake to spur me on. I noticed a fallen leaf on the asphalt path as I came up to the front of the park. It was multi-colored, with brown and orange and some green mixed in. The edges of the leaf were curled over, so that it appeared to be a pile of something, rather than a dead leaf. From the odd assortment of colors, I assumed it was a pile of dog shit. At first glance, my brain registered this, and I almost immediately felt a slight wave of nausea. A few seconds later though, I realized it was a leaf, and the nausea instantly disappeared.

This proves that our senses aren't very reliable, or “deceivers”, as the Buddha called them. But it also effectively demonstrates the point above. Other matter does exist around us, and we're not beaming it into existence with mind rays. What originates in the mind is our tendency to label, to ascribe characteristics, to jump to conclusions and place objects and experiences into categories. All of this conceptual thinking leads us very far away from an open and natural way of living. We use our brains to build boxes...and endlessly compartmentalize. As the sages teach, it's not long before we're stuck in attachment and aversion (for example, “what a beautiful leaf!” and “ugh, dog crap”). My example is rather trivial. We engage in this type of behavior every day on much weightier issues.

It isn't a great leap to apply this to trees or other simple physical objects. We see a tree, but the building blocks of this tree and everything else are atoms. If we could see at that level, we'd notice that atoms are mostly space. Mostly...emptiness. What we call a “tree” is really our conception of a huge number of atoms arranged in a specific fashion. We sense only through a thin slice of the possible spectrum.

Off to get groceries, where I'll once again try to convince myself that those cookies are mostly made of space.

Wednesday, October 3, 2012

A Hard Boiled Shaman


Muktuk Wolfsbreath: Hard Boiled Shaman is an online comic I started following a couple of years ago. I can't recall how I found it. Probably linked through some comic news site I visit. I read a couple of the daily strips and found it entertaining. I wasn't very good at keeping up with a daily strip though. I didn't visit the site for months, and by the time I did, the strips were no longer available there.

I was happy to learn, however, that the author, Terry LaBan, published his strip in book form. Wanting to support the author, I ordered a copy through Amazon. I recently read the entire story and enjoyed it in its entirety.

It's titled “The Spirit of Boo”, and it involves our eponymous Siberian shaman and his efforts to save a young boy who's fallen desperately ill. In his otherworldly travels, Muktuk discovers that a rival shaman is attempting to claim the boy's soul due to a debt owed by his clan.

As the title suggests, the story mashes up shamanism with a story right out of your average noir detective film. There's a femme fatale, the initial mystery of the boy's illness, and the mistrust Muktuk encounters despite his good intentions. I'm not normally a fan of this stunt, and the world of comics is unfortunately enamored of it all too often. Think of the movie Cowboys and Aliens, based off of a graphic novel. The very idea conjured by the title just doesn't appeal to me.

LaBan's story succeeds though. Although a case could be made that there's a noir overlay to the proceedings, I could believe Siberian natives acting in the way that they did, even without that conceit. Muktuk has to make tough choices, one of which results in the death of a close animal friend. The dialogue is suitably sparse, and in spite of the presence of talking animals, there's no Disney effect. A boy's life hangs in the balance, and the story never forgets it.

The art is somewhat cartoony, but not so much that it detracts from the subject matter. The one weakness I found was LaBan's depiction of the demons. It's extremely rudimentary, a style which I feel I could copy almost exactly, and I'm no great artist by any means. It's a minor flaw, in the end.

As a bonus, the author includes older stories that were serialized in DC's Vertigo imprint back in the mid-90s. The stories are fairly short and lightweight, and the art is more detailed, very reminiscent, in fact, of R Crumb. They show how far LaBan has brought the character in nearly 20 years.

He hints at possibly more Muktuk stories to come. If you're looking for a graphic novel that isn't superheroes, and which boasts a very unusual setting with good writing, this is definitely worth a look.

Sunday, July 8, 2012

Running As Practice


0:10
I've always been a slow starter. It usually takes a decent force of will to get my legs pumping enough to exit the driveway. My impulse is to start out fast, but I try to temper this. Later on, I'll pick up speed and feel better about my pace. In the beginning, it's all about easing into the workout.

01:05
Taking the long loop around my neighborhood before heading out on Route 250 for a short stretch. Dogs are barking at the expected houses. One, as I leave Pontiac Street, looks as if it's going to dig through the glass sheet in the door separating it from the outside world. I can clearly hear the tumult it's producing. How much louder it must be in the house, mingled with the owner's vain admonishments to quiet down.

01:52
Another house on 250 with a couple of dogs who sometimes patrol the front yard. One is a chocolate Lab while the other is a smaller breed, perhaps a mix of Pug and something else. I laugh as the smaller dog jumps up periodically to box the Lab's muzzle as he's barking. The Pug mix wants to warn me away from the yard, but also feels as if the Lab is stealing its thunder. I would love to stop and say hello, but canine behavior can be unpredictable on their own territory. Maybe someday...

02:11
I wait for an opening and cross 250 gingerly, beginning my cruise down a side street. It's cooler, but still humid. I'm minding the humidity less though. The shirt is starting to stick to me and I realize I didn't wash it last time I did laundry. A mental note to include it next time. I'm briefly amazed at the variety of bird calls I hear this time of year. Our normally cold, forbidding land is transformed into something approaching tropical. I try not to feel attachment, but the stain of it remains in my mind. It's my favorite season, after all.

03:45
Marking out a big loop through the adjacent, more affluent area across 250. A house that had been for sale now has a moving van in the yard. People are unloading it methodically. I believe this house went on sale after my neighbor's, and yet the new owners are moving in while my neighbors still seem to be in the process of moving preparation. Just my luck. It's probably my fervent wish for their removal that keeps them there so long. It's nearly three months since the house sold. I try to remember what patience feels like.

05:23
Winding my way through short tracts, keeping in a general loop. I pass a mother out with her daughter, teaching her how to ride a pink bike. The training wheels are still on. I recall my own memory of this milestone in a young life. The training wheels coming off, and feeling like a God for somehow conquering gravity. I miss having a bicycle. The running workout can feel like drudgery most days. The bike is a portal to a freedom I haven't felt in a long time...a speed powered by my legs which I can't match otherwise, without the aid of an engine. You race along with the wind, quietly, flying at ground level. It's no wonder the Wright Brothers started out as bicycle repairmen.

07:39
The mention of feeling a God earlier sparks another thought—of the recent Higgs boson discovery. The so-called “God particle”, which is said to provide the glue for the universe, among other things. Science has always wanted to look behind the curtain, to catch “God” as He or She works in their mysterious way. Science is focused on the relative, however. I don't believe it will ever be able to glimpse beyond the measurable realm. Even now, there are doubts about the import of this discovery. Some feel it's too much like what they expected. A real revelation would've been something entirely new and wholly unpredicted. We want so badly to bring the God realm into the Human. Pure hubris.

10:00
Loose now. The odd, dull pains I sometimes feel in my joints and muscles have dissipated. I'm more confident that this won't be the run I injure something. I've stretched well enough. A problem that plagued my previous pair of running shoes, laces untying in the middle of workouts, has yet to manifest with my Nikes. Should've gone with Nike all along. They've never failed me.

A squirrel busy digging in a landscaped patch is surprised by my sudden approach, and it is madly scrambling for the nearest tree. If I'd been a dog, it might not have ended so happily for it.

12:48
It rained a few hours earlier, and the dank earthy smell rises from the ground strongly. The straw-colored swaths of grass take on a tawnier shade. I recall standing at my screen door as the rain began to fall, and the land seeming to sigh in relief at its arrival. Something is different in the air around me, an atmosphere so thick I practically swim through it. Maybe it's a diminished stress level. The grass is short, but weeds sprout up, some of them flowering, a sign that many have not mowed their lawn in weeks. Mine is no different. I don't mind it for brief periods. Once it begins in April, the necessity of mowing every weekend can quickly feel like an especially persistent burden. This dry interval we've had could be coming to an end soon.

15:21
Unusually, a second wind creeps into my body. Despite the oppressive air, I feel renewed strength from somewhere within, and my stride reaches out, grabbing more ground and propelling me forward. I try not to question how long it will last, and just enjoy the experience. I've slept badly, and I know later on I'll wish I had that energy back. For now, I steam through the hazy sun, feeling an assurance in my step that reminds me for a time of younger days.

18:07
The sky is cloudy, but doesn't threaten more rain. I was hoping it was done for the day. I didn't want to endure another public shower. I think back about the times I've been caught out in downpours, rolling into my driveway with my clothes plastered to me, my shoes saturated and burbling. Very uncomfortable. The thought still occurs that I should get some rain gear for just such times, but I have yet to go.

22:31
A curvy branch in the road makes me briefly think it's a snake. I've seen a number of snakes at the ponds near work. A couple have been a very good size. One seemed unconcerned by the presence of humans. I blocked its path for a few seconds and it regarded me with something like herpetological insouciance. Once I moved on, it continued on its meandering journey, as if I were no more than a passing cloud.

25:28
Leaving this part of the village, back out to 250, and I run along the sloping shoulder, waiting for a break in the flow of cars. The flattened opossum that had lain near the storm drain for most of late last summer and fall has finally been cleaned up. Another marker of impermanence. I've been thinking a lot about death more recently, just to get myself more mentally prepared for it. The sages teach that reflecting upon our death, upon our body's impermanence, can be a very strong and effective practice. I'm always reminded of the phrase, “where rock meets bone in insight.” This is a teaching where rock really does meet bone. I always refer to it as the Great Matter. What other subject or event can make such an impact? There was a country song with a title like "Live Like You Were Dying" or something similar. The song is about a person with only so much time left, and proceeds to use that time to do things like skydiving...basically thrill-seek as much as possible before it's gone. That isn't good preparation for death though. It's actually grasping, trying to grab some more samsara before passing on. This can only lead to more attachment, which will make the the journey more difficult. My response so far has been a more urgent need to meditate and reflect on teachings. To help as many other beings as I can. Might not make a hit song, but I'll be better prepared for leaving all of this behind.

32:54
Back in my neighborhood, rounding the long curve of Pontiac Street, attempting to build up a kick for the end. Some days I'm more successful than others. The second wind I'd enjoyed has largely scattered, but I manage a brief rush at the finish. I jog very slowly then walk back to the house. A brief mumbled prayer of thanks to the Buddhas for a dry day and an offering of it to them. Too often I forget to make dedications, but it's a good thing to practice regulary.

I try to run mindfully, to keep my mind as clear as possible while running, but more often than not I'm unsuccessful. Lately, I've been trying to recall that thoughts are just an expression of the luminosity of mind, that the basic nature of mind is always there whether we are thinking or not. It helps. There are still long moments when I get hooked on the thorn of a thought, and I will closely follow it, tracing its crazy path through my brain. Much like the butterflies you see with their twisting flight through fields and lawns. They dissolve eventually. The ideal is to keep this view constantly. My brain on running reminds me that I haven't yet reached this stage of development. It's good practice, nevertheless.

Saturday, June 9, 2012

A Giant Passes On


Ray Bradbury died this week at the age of 91. The tributes came from far and wide. His books and stories have seeped into so many corners of the globe.

The actual cover of the book I found
I discovered him in 6th grade, shortly after moving up here. I can dimly recall going into the school library one day and passing the shelves, reading the titles on the spines. I can't recall why exactly, but it was probably because of the way the book appeared. It was a hardcover with softcover dimensions, with an appealing font and a look of durability. It was one of Bradbury's early novels, Dandelion Wine. It's about a boy's coming of age in small-town Illinois. Bradbury's evocative descriptions of summer nights, the smell and feel of new sneakers, and the charged moments of youth were new landscapes for me in fiction. I'd never read a story where it so closely matched my own experience, even if I didn't live in 1928. I'd just moved to a small town at the time, so timing had a great deal to do with my fascination as well. The life I'd imagined I was moving to no longer existed. It had vanished years before. This book offered me a glimpse into what I had missed, and wished could be recovered. If not the reality, then at least my romantic version of it.

Bradbury's prose was steeped in poetry. He wasn't a dense writer. He used words carefully, making sure every one had meaning. I was soon devouring his other books. I found his short stories, specifically the collections The Illustrated Man and The Martian Chronicles. You could only envy the ideas he came up with. There was the story Kaleidoscope, where a small group of astronauts are stranded in the midst of space, with nothing but their spacesuits and a couple hours of oxygen supply. Knowing they face death, they talk to each other about existential matters, trying not to think of the inevitable. Another story, titled All Summer in a Day, concerns a class of young students on Venus, where it rains constantly...except for two hours during one day out of the year. We read about the student's myriad reactions as the sun appears for that short window of time.

To me, these stories were like effective pop songs. They had an irresistible hook. You wanted to see the characters' reactions, and you compared yours with theirs. Many of these stories dealt with humans up against the meaning of their existence, faced with their impermanence against the vast black canvas of the universe. Their own, or just the elusiveness of the present moment. How easily it slips from our grasp. What else do we have, really?

I wrote Ray when I was 12 or 13, asking for writing advice. His work must've moved me tremendously then. He sent back a short letter, much to my surprise, telling me to write every day as he did, starting when he was 12. He also recommended a couple of books, one of which I did read. It was The Summing Up by W. Somerset Maugham, who turned out to be one of my favorite authors growing up. I never matched Ray's work ethic. He did open up in me a love for good writing though that remains with me to this day. I thank him for that.

May you find peace, Ray. And I hope that what you gave to me is returned to you tenfold.

Friday, March 30, 2012

Old Friends

Very tired.

Years after I thought I had left it behind, insomnia comes to visit again. I should've known better. It never really leaves, and the trigger can be something small, like a neighbor's inconsiderateness at 6 in the morning after I've worked a 10 hour day. I know that I give it more fuel than it needs, or deserves. Last week they put their house up for sale. I won't be sorry to see them go (or at least one of them, who joined the household later) but I hope the new owners are more aware of their surroundings.

In the meantime, I'm working on getting by and welcoming early spring weather. Also getting a few estimates next week for a new furnace. My present one is 28 years old, and I had plans on replacing it at about this point. It's a pricey job, and I'm only lucky I've been able to save some money for it.

What this boils down to is dealing with uncertainty, and life's looking more uncertain over the next few months. My response has been a renewed resolved to hit the cushion more often, as in every night, instead of just three nights a week. There really is no time like the present. It's all we have.

Sunday, January 22, 2012

2011 In Movies

I'm a little later than usual this year, but it's time to recap the 2011 movies I saw. Usually I restrict it to what I saw in the theater, but this year, I'm including some films I saw by DVD or Blu-Ray disc. If it was released in 2011, and I managed to see it, it gets reviewed!

So here we go.


Hall Pass

The Farrelly Brothers' comedy with Owen Wilson and Jason Sudeikis, about a couple of harried husbands who get the nominal document from their wives, which entails permission to have sex with any one they want for a weekend. This film was actually a friend's idea on a chilly February Saturday. Not the Farrellys' best (that distinction still goes to Kingpin...see it if you haven't yet) but there were some funny moments, notably the hot tub scene.

The Fighter

Actually a late 2010 film which won a couple of Oscars, Best Supporting Actor nods for Christian Bale and Melissa Leo. Both give the film's best performances, Bale as Micky Ward, a promising young talent who never did realize his potential, and Leo as his domineering mother. A true story hook always pulls me in a bit further. Bale reminds you how completely he can transform as an actor.

Sucker Punch

Who knew Zack Snyder could follow up Watchmen with such a dud? It's all surface and not much substance. I've read a reviewer or two try to salvage the film, but it just makes me laugh. Despite the special effects, I was bored and waiting impatiently for it to end. I really hope Snyder rebounds with the Superman reboot he's currently working on.

Hanna

The thinking man's action film. Joe Wright directs his young star, Saoirse Ronan, whom he directed just as ably in Atonement. She's the daughter of an ex-CIA agent, played by Eric Bana, and they live in the frozen desert of northern Finland. He's trained her to be a killing machine, with some help from some genetic tinkering, revealed later in the film. Wright takes the film all over Europe and Africa, and throws in a pulsing electronic soundtrack. I enjoyed the travelogue feel while waiting for the next close call in Hanna's odyssey.

The Devil's Double

Another true story about the man who was the body double for one of Saddam Hussein's sons. It's a harrowing, front-seat account of the madness going on in the Iraqi dictator's family during his time in power. Dominic Cooper's star continues it's slow rise with this performance in a dual role, as both the real son, and the man who impersonated him.

Limitless

I liked Bradley Cooper in the Hangover films, but this is the one where he shows he can be a real lead in a movie. It's about a writer who can't finish a novel, and is a general failure in life, acquiring a new drug that is intended to harness much more of the brain's intellectual ability. He finishes the novel, watches it become a huge success, and goes on to prove his mettle in the financial field as well. Of course, it's all too good to be true, and we watch the fascinating unraveling in the second half. A good, tense script, and a nicely modulated performance from the lead.

Thor

I wasn't expecting much from this one, but was pleasantly surprised. Kenneth Branagh, known more for his turns in Shakespeare, directs a film that captures much of the Thor universe without getting too campy. Watching Thor finish off the Frost Giant monster by flying hammer-first through the creature's gaping maw brought back the thrills I used to get reading the comic. I wish there'd been another similarly staged battle later on in the movie, but maybe that's being saved for the Avengers spectacle, opening in May.

X-Men: First Class

Another great superhero turn, a revamping of the X-Men franchise. Smart, retro (it takes place in the 60s), and remarkably well-cast, this outing concerns the origins of Professor X and his initial band of mutants. Michael Fassbender and James McAvoy provide the dualistic heart of the film. If they keep making X-films like this, the franchise could go on indefinitely. Nice to see January Jones, a Mad Men cast member, in the role of my favorite female mutant, Emma Frost.

Bridesmaids

A raucous comedy with SNL star Kristen Wiig (who hails from this area) as a woman bemoaning her single status as she prepares to serve as a bridesmaid in someone else's wedding. Some decent laughs as the humor went farther to the edge than a mostly female comedy usually dares to go. Still somewhat lightweight though, and it just reinforces the tired and false message that a woman is ultimately nothing without a man to give her babies.

Tree Of Life

One of my favorites of the year. Brad Pitt is a Texas family man, with Jessica Chastain as his wife, and their three sons. What we get is a meditation on family, life, loss, death, and dinosaurs, in Terence Malick's latest experiment. Malick is always good for at least an interesting time, as well as his transcendent visuals. I loved the film, far more than I did The Thin Red Line, his war movie from 1998. It's visual poetry with sparse dialogue, but the combination speaks volumes. Incredibly moving.

Meek's Cutoff

Another favorite from last year. Michelle Williams is a wagon train wife, part of a group of settlers traveling west in search of a better life. They spy a lone Native on the plains, then eventually capture him, thinking he's warning the rest of his group and they will be slaughtered. They end up depending on his knowledge of the land to survive. It's got an ambiguous ending...we're never told if they make it to water or not...but message is still clear. The rugged desert of the western Midwest is as much a stunning character in this film as any of the humans.

Captain America: The First Avenger

Marvel's getting good at these. Well done adventure yarn, set in World War 2, about the origins of Steve Rogers, the eponymous hero. Joe Johnston, who directed the Rocketeer 20 years earlier, evokes the period nicely. The action hardly lets up, and it stoked my anticipation for the Avengers movie.

Moneyball

Brad Pitt again, this time as the general manager of the Oakland A's a decade ago, and how he instituted a numbers-based system for building a competitive baseball team. The system almost succeeded. Jonah Hill gives a nicely understated performance as the statistical wizard who helps Pitt's Billy Bean character build an unlikely playoff team.

Hugo

Martin Scorsese's at it again, crafting a fine period piece with fantastic flourishes, about an orphan who lives in a Paris train station tending the clocks. He wants to somehow restart an animatronic doll that his father was working on, to find out its secrets. Along the way, Scorsese treats us to a cinematic history lesson regarding Georges Melies, the man who made some of the earliest films ever, over a century ago. It was a great holiday movie, with history, magic, and a big heart. Marty's getting up there in age, and I'll miss him when he's gone.

War Horse

Spielberg's latest, about a Devon farmboy's horse shipped off to the trenches of France during World War I. I was hoping for a little Saving Private Ryan realism, doughboy style, but you only get a taste of that toward the end. Still, it was a very emotional story of human and animal, friends through thick and thin, surviving and reuniting amid the chaos of war. I heard much sobbing as the lights rose. Spielberg kept it fairly simple, and largely avoided the sentimentality he can be prone to.

Sherlock Holmes: Game Of Shadows

Robert Downey Jr. and Jude Law are back as the famous crime-solving duo from Victorian England. All of the pieces are there from the first film, but I wasn't as fond of this one. I think my favorite character is still Gladstone, Watson's bulldog, but there seemed to be less of him this time. This is a far more action-oriented version of the character than what I'm used to seeing. They should probably quit at two.

Hangover Part 2

Saw this last night on Blu-Ray. I'm not sure a sequel was necessary, though I did find a few good laughs. More of an amusement park ride than a film, really, but sometimes that's all I need. The sultry Bangkok atmosphere helped me forget the chilly night outside.


That's 2011 in films. I'm hoping to get to the theaters soon and get started on 2012. There's much to look forward to, other than the Avengers, and The Dark Knight Rises. I hope you find some good stories at the movies this year as well.

A Manwha Opus

I recently finished a graphic novel from a Korean artist and writer named Yeong-Shin Ma. His previous work was called Moms, and it was relea...