I'm not against buying books, computers, salt peanuts. But the accent is not on 'buy', not 'use', 'consume', 'finish', but on 'read', 'think', 'explore', 'try to find something new'. Eating salt peanuts can be as spiritual as doing meditation, but by eating, anything and everything, you don't 'get there.' It's like putting fat books 'on the night' under the pillow, in hope to get smarter. Somehow, from the contact with the pillow, the books' stories would get into your head, and you'll don't have to bother to waste time to read them. Wisdom in a pill - swallow it, and you'll double your brain power in an instant.
Daria Dontsova, the popular author of 'ironical crime fiction' in Russia, wrote a book ' Инь, Янь, и всякая дрянь", in 2009. She doesn't like Yin and Yan, she doesn't like China, the return to Nature, and refuse of civilization. West is also pro-Western. They run now to analyze, analyze, and analyze, thinking it the main virtue of the Western world. But analysis and synthesis - the condition of any thought.
The thought process of some American reader of these last lines, probably, would be to rush out and buy some salt peanut in a nearby store. But it won't get you anywhere. That is not what I had in mind writing this.
Once I worked for one composer, he was sick with Parkinson disease. He was over 80, and could hardly speak; he had constant pains over all his body. I massaged his back and legs, gave him his drugs (which did not help), made a food for him, and went for some shopping. He lived in Jerusalem, in the centre of the city, in two-room apartment. He had a Fillipino metapelet, a guy of 20 years, who lived with him and cared for him for some miserly pay. On Sundays he was off, he was a Christian, and I had to change him. That composer boasted to me 'he had had read three thousand books'. There really were a lot of books in the apartment, in English, German, Hebrew, Hungarian, and some other languages. His teaching to me was (all the Jews are teachers, they want to teach you something) money was a single thing that mattered. Then, he said all the greatest teachers of humankind never wrote a word, their teaching was oral. And then, the proverb: 'All is shit, except urine." I picked once a book in the rare books store, downstairs. It was 'L'Histoire de l'art generale', in French. When I showed it to him, and he asked how much was it, and I said 5 shekels, he did not believe me. He browsed through the book, saying its cost was much more than 5 shekels(and I saw later in other stores the similar books for 300)( the seller, selling me the book, glanced at it dubiously, saying she was wondering whether it's cost was 5 or 10 shekels, but I picked it up in the room where all books were for 5 shekels, once I saw there on the floor a quaint red little book of medieval French verse, I bought it also for 5 shekels), and he never summoned me after that. Why, I could never understand. It's some peculiar Jewish way of relating to money, it's Chinese to me.
I also used to count books I've read. I made lists counting books I've read a million of years ago, not remembering anything written there but making it the point of including in my list, I remember the title, so done with it. I also met similar lists in the internet. Some guy, drunk on his achievements of reading one hundred books, makes it public, publishing the titles of them - look, emulate, see how smart I am!
Thinking of the 'fallen' quaint little red book of medieval French verse, lying uselessly on the floor in 5 shekel department, I recalled Heinrich Boll, his passage about the irrationality of the world concerning prices. One girl sells it for 5 Deutsche Marks on the street, at the same time another, having basically the same properties, sells it for millions consenting to be wife to some businessman or politician, living afterwards in life of luxury and absence of discomfort.
I remember another job, on tv decoders, it was 15 km from Ashdod, on the Intersection Kanot. There was a guy there, we worked in one crew. He said he was wondering if life exists outside of Circular Route, round Moscow, 40 km in diameter, I think. He took me for a Buryat, with my Buddhism and Taoism, living somewhere in prehistoric past and 'out there', thousands of kilometers from the Circular Route. Still, I borrowed from him 10 shekels (the transport was lacking, and I had not money for a bus). Later, this day, I met him on a bus station, near Market 'Bet', not far from his home. He was talking on his cell, about some business opportunities, possibilities of making millions. I returned him 10 shekels and have not heard from him since.
The victory over nature is not reached yet. The snow fell over Jerusalem. It was like a small Catastrophe here, there were voices calling to Purification, they thought G-d punished Jews. But, slowly, life returns to normal, the victory over nature is close, soon the nature will be dead.
Oleg Mamin, the author of a movie 'A Window to Paris', wrote about vodka, fools, and revolutions. He said his movie was not propaganda of drunkenness - look at these fellows, how disgusting they look in Paris in their orgies of drunkenness. He also informed us the deputies of the Duma drink the best vodka and eat the best meat.
But I don't envy. I don't think it the best happiness to drink the best vodka. I understood his article as an idea the fools drink vodka and make revolutions. But I don't drink vodka. And I'm not going to make a revolution.
But I made a window to Paris.
I don't care about delicious, tasty food, delicatessen, I don't care about food. Maybe the best food is black bread with water. Buddha made a living by asking for food, and I doubt he always got the best food. But Buddha cared about soul, not body, and he was happy, though he did not make a point being happy.
Obsession with food leads to degradation of the spirit and nothing else.
I live in a port town. Not on the level of the sea, not on zero level. There is a slope when you go down to the beach, there is, I think, 20 meters between me and water. Water will get here not so soon.
But metaphorically, I'm on zero level. And they afraid lest the oceans level will rise and they think me as a water level. Rising of water for them is the same as my rising. So they have to keep me down.
But I don't want to rise, in difference with water. Water will rise, however they kept me down. Water will rise because of growth of the world economy. And the economy cannot not to grow, otherwise it will crash. So they're heating the planet, competing and fighting with each other, and the result of their competing and growing and getting richer will be self-destruction. But they cannot not to want to get richer; it's wired into the system. Poor are despised, poor cry, poor are zero, nonentity. Only the rich, who eats the best food, has life.
Working as a metapel(or metapelet), I met another old wise man. He said:' The Sun, air, and water - our best friends?' There was a slogan in Soviet times, invented by the Soviet proponents of healthy way of life: 'The sun, air, and water -our best friends!'
But here, in Israel, nature is enemy, and, though we may capture nature's 'gifts', the sun, water, and air are under suspicion. Moreover, since it's a 'Soviet' slogan - you shouldn't trust it.
Woke up at 6. Went to the kitchen, opened the window, and looked at the sky. Right in the centre, above me, the wane moon, blue sky and no stars. Below me, a white squalid booth(for tools?) with black fat graffiti on it.
I won't read the best books of 2013. I don't have an international credit card to buy them through internet; I don't have money to buy books. I have enough already, once I found a whole library near the garbage container. I recently came from Finland, we walked with Lilia in the district of villas nearby the sea, and there they lied, in several plastic packets, and one Russian immigrant already sat beside them, browsing through the old, battered books. It was 'The Library of the World Literature', the series, began by Max Gorky in twenties, but mainly published in sixties-seventies. There were about fifty books there. We divided them with this ole, he said he would sit at home, nothing to do, only to read books. We then went to the beach, I with two heavy packets of Virgil and Blaise Pascal's 'Pensees', and met there this book-lover. He was also glad to see us.
Recently I've read 'The Rascal Novel' collection there, 'Unlucky Traveller' by Thomas Nash. I won't say it's the best book of 17 century, I've read about mediaeval tortures and Italian passions, and that it's best to sit home and read travelers' stories than to travel oneself(I don't agree).
My father loved Hokusai, and when he left our three-room apartment on Science Avenue, he left behind him a number of Hokusai landscapes, of Fuji-yama. I remember, when I was a schoolboy, in seventies, there hang in my room a winter landscape of some strange Japanese bridge across a river, or a gulf, or a lake. Some Japanese figure, laden with some load, wretchedly walked on this bridge, and there was Fuji-yama, like in all paintings, but then I have not noticed it, it was somewhere in the background, I looked only on this figure in the snow. But I don't like Hokusai's wave, Hokusai's tsunami. It somehow doesn't find appeal with me. This gross wave, dangerously heaving, evoking thoughts of Disorder, revolutionary thoughts, I like his Fuji-yamas much more. And, when this wave appeared in yesterday 'The New Yorker', it wasn't what I expected from them.
This wave, it won't be tsunami, it will go slowly. One decade, another, and then people find sea is closer. But, as it rises imperceptibly, nobody won't do anything about it. It will be a magazine pastime, from time to time, to show the Wave, but business interests prevail, it's only one of a million of the topics for a lunch talk.
They studied your skeleton, they know everything about you, they can predict every your move, every gesture, they follow your private ramblings with a Hubble telescope. Still, they are surprised if they find you have leanings of your own not conforming to their wiles.
My tale was compared, at one time, with 'Fairy Tales of Grimm Brothers'. I was insulted and greatly surprised since I am afraid I lack writer's imagination, and write only the naked truth as it appears to me. But I was also intrigued; the drab, grey, monotonous, average events of my life get response like 'that abominable Snowman', 'insuperable creations of a Cave Artist'. I've heard even on tv from Moscow that they were 'amazed' to get something from 'there'. They talked of 9-meter suitcase transported to the Red Square by Napoleon descendants, but 'there', what do they mean? Hell's fire burning unlucky sinner under their distant and unpredictable command? There, the land of 'out there', 'somewhere in the Mediterranean', like Aksyonov' 'The Island of Crimea'? Or the Fields Elycees of that 'inventive' Paris?
It indeed looks like a fairy tale. Boris, a character living with me in one apartment (sometimes appearing in this story, but Americans think perhaps it's Boris the Mayor of London), wants to send me emails from his computer to mine, though the both computers are located in the same room and that room is not so big that I cannot see Boris sitting at his computer while I'm sitting on mine. But Boris is also under the power of illusion; he thinks perhaps my electronic address is the North Pole.
Yesterday looked a bit at 'The Autumn Marathon', the 70s Soviet movie about two colleagues-translators, one Russian, another American who work together in Leningrad and run the morning jog, both in their 40s. 'Deciphering the Soviet soul',
'the Soviet soul' is alien to me. The message under the movie said 'The Glacial Period', referring to the figure-skating competition, scheduled after the movie, but meaning, possibly, that 70s is a long-long past era. Though the action is in Leningrad, I could not 'identify' with it, the relationships of a main hero - love, work -foreign, though it seemed I might find something close to me - since I'm writing in English and in contact with Western people. The theme, 'autumn', is also, seems, close to my situation, and the main situation of the movie hero, who constantly receives moral beating which he cannot withstand, seems familiar. But I'm a writer, not a translator, and my writings are nowhere 'recognized', edited, and are to be published. I don't have a nasty boss(any boss at all, since I don't have a job)- I wouldn't like to return to these times, and to be 'in the skin' of the main hero, I don't envy his 'official' status and professionalism. Though, it's a Russian movie, and some of the themes Russian-Western remain relevant. But I'm rather of brothers Grimm fairy tale production; I don't want 'to get real'.
Not only children read fairy tales, fairy tales are written not only for children. There are people who study the fairy tales, as there are people who study myths which can be not Barthian only. Fairy tales and myths are like verses, mythical mind was in the first times, and now some writers have it, some poets 'repeat' the 'primeval' magic mind. But the fairy tale usually ends well, a hero marries a princess, becomes a king, and 'they lived a long, long time after'. And I don't want a happy ending, I don't want to marry a princess( not that I find many eager princesses), I'm not that fairy tale prince every girl dreams of. My fairy tale is of a different kind.
Most unhappy people of 2013: the Twitter founder who earned 0$, and the badgers.
I'm not. Though I earned 0$ and being badgered. But I don't care about it; I care about my mother and a myriad of other things, not about my earnings and being badgered. For example, health. I do Lumosity for brain fitness, meditation, acupressure. I don't know if Lumosity and acupressure helps. But I prefer this to Obamacare, to drugs. I'm for Obamacare, you need a cheap medicine, but I'd prefer not to need it, to prevent diseases. Medicine is a very wide notion; climate change and green energy also belong to medicine. Fairy tales and myths, and books, in general, art, science, philosophy also belong to medicine. Altruism also belongs to medicine - if you help somebody, your health gets better (though not always, you may contract diseases from patients, like many doctors do).
Returning yesterday from the beach, I met a school group of Jewish girls running their 'control' circle (perhaps, for their 'prince'). They were not enthousiasmed, one of them was holding a hand to her heart, and they run and stopped, getting forces for 'continuation of the torture'. One of them, near me, gasped from her last forces: one thousand and five hundred. What did it mean, I'll never know, I know only your health is the most expensive thing in the world, like education and love, you'll never buy it. Near a group of boys played soccer, also crying from time to time some digits, I went on, and met another group of girls playing tennis. They couldn't and wouldn't play, the ball helplessly run away from them. Then, I met an instructor instructing toddlers to get into the ring.
My fiscal idiocy, no professor of mathematics will cure me from it. Maybe I provide all the laughs in the U.S.A., like Sarah Palin. But Jesus Christ taught me about the camel and the needle's eye, and I don't see any sense in becoming rich. It's not about money. Strange, but they think I'm about economy, and the weird thing is that it helps economy. But being mean is not good for health, being not moral harms health.
Working for American economy, working for European economy, working for Russian economy, not speaking of Israeli - but what's the point? I'm not working for the 'new Middle East', rather 'I'm doing it just for fun', like an E.S.P. American site. Not for lotteries, it's just interesting to me, does E.S.P work. It's interesting for me to make people from different countries speak to each other, though indirectly. It's not for any country 'leadership', not for competition between countries, who's smarter, who's stronger. It's not a L.A. bridge, nor New York bridge, nor a Russian bridge. It's international, like U.N.
Early morning, 'razvozka' got us to the Zomet Kanot, to the 'promzona', we walk to our place of job. There is a bad smell, it's from the dead cows, near us there is a meat-making factory, my colleagues close their faces with coats, they can't stand the smell, it's the smell of cows who'd been milked and now killed to make meat, my colleagues, a Negro about to be taken to the army, who wants to study Russian, a military boy, he studies in a military school , earns his money on a multitude of factories around Ashdod, a couple of Israelites, Black and White, some religious small boy in a kipa, 'who obeys G-d only'. We pass a Pepsi truck, the slogan urges 'to max it'. Never drank Pepsi, only in the Soviet Union, and my colleagues don't like it when I 'max it'.
A German translated 'Dao De Dzin' in 1910, translating 'Dao' as 'Sinn', and 'De' as 'Life'. But Dao cannot be named, and De is not Life. He rationalizes Dao which cannot be rationalized. Looking at this 'root' translations, I cannot trust his rendering of the ancient text, 'which has suffered through centuries'. I've heard the text of Chuan Tse also was 'edited' by his ideological rivals so it's very difficult to understand it. But the ideas of Lao Tse as they came to this German (Richard Willheim), also not 'agree' with me, I wouldn't make of them my Bible. For example, 'men are like straw dogs for sacrifice to Heaven, Heaven is not benevolent. And for 'The Man of Calling' (another strange translation) men are like straw dogs for sacrifice. Man of Calling is not benevolent toward them.' And in another passage Lao Tse talks about benevolence and Love. Where's the Meaning?
Leo Tolstoy also was a fond of Lao Tse. He practiced 'non-action'. But 'non-action', what is it really, in our everyday life, as distinguished from China of 7 B.C.? I know Tolstoy went to his village, taught children there, did work 'in the field', besides writing his books. How Tolstoy understood 'non-action'? Tolstoy is famous with us not with 'non-action', but 'non-violence', which was and has been harshly criticized by the history of 20 century, and all 20 century ideological forces, starting from Communism, and ending by 'common sense' criticism.
Willheim also describes Taoism as something quite distinct from Lao Tse, presenting it as some form of folk animism extinct in the rest of the world in the Middle Ages. Taoists 'searched for the elixir of immortality', were busy with heath exercises, which is quite below of the great sage stance. But what is Taoism really?
It's not Maoism. It is a religion, but not the religion only. Some argued is it religion or philosophy. But Taoists also made science. All the early China discoveries were made by Taoists. Acupuncture from the mythical times of Emperor is also connected with Taoism.
There is authoritary dzen, there is revolutionary dzen, and there is 'just' dzen. Dzen is a synthesis of Taoism and Buddhism. Which dzen would YOU practice? I'm not practicing dzen, not authoritary, not revolutionary, not 'just' dzen. I'm rather for 'non-violence' though Tolstoy's understanding of Lao Tse was also criticized. Non-violence, weapons create disasters and 'handling' the world destroys it. It goes for America, it goes for the USSR, and it goes for China.
'The Game of Thrones', I'm not partaking in it. I'm not sitting on the throne; I don't want to be a King. Remembering 'Ivan Vasilievich Chooses A New Profession', I reject the criticism that I'm not a tough enough King. I never applied for the job of a King, I'm not ambitious.