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Tales of Zen Buddhist Scoundrels
Tales of Zen Buddhist Scoundrels
Tales of Zen Buddhist Scoundrels
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Tales of Zen Buddhist Scoundrels

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Sensei, a man accused of laziness, malingering, sexual misconduct, alcoholism, blasphemy and depression, wanders in a netherworld somewhere between modern Los Angeles and ancient Kyoto. He appears under many names and in many guises, and often belongs to many religions or no religion. He also seems indifferent to politics, long-term employment and monogamous relationships, leaving him open to the charges of agnosticism, amorality and nihilism. He wanders from temple to dive bar, and from holy lands to inner cities. Going from job to job, sometimes serving as a priest, sometimes forced into emeritus status, and at other times wandering the streets homeless, he always seeks, though his adventures, to wreck any attempts at smugness or certainty. Whatever beliefs his interlocutors are holding on to, even if it's Buddhism itself, Sensei will, through his escapades, unearth the unfounded assumptions that guide most of his questioners through their predictable days. Sensei is, above all things, unpredictable, and one can never tell whether he will respond to a given situation with a most transcendent gentleness or the most explosive violence. In the Bodhisattva tradition, he uses different medicines to cure different illnesses, as the old sutras used to say.

LanguageEnglish
Release dateSep 2, 2018
ISBN9780463789988
Tales of Zen Buddhist Scoundrels
Author

Mel C. Thompson

Mel C. Thompson is a retired wage slave who survived by working through temp agencies and guard agencies. Unable to survive in the real world of full-time, permanent work, he migrated from building to building, going wherever his agencies sent him, doing any type of work he could feign competency in and staying as long as those fragile arrangements could last. He somehow managed to get a B.A in Philosophy from Cal-State Fullerton in spite of his learning disorders and health problems. Unable to sustain family life due to depression, anxiety, sleep disorders, lack of transportation and lack of income, he lives alone in low-income housing and wanders around California on buses and trains. He began writing at the age of 14 and continues till the current day. (He turns 64 in June of 2023). In his early years he wrote pathetic love poetry until, in his thirties, he was engulfed by cynicism and fell in with a group of largely antisocial poets who wrote about the underground life of drugs, sex, alcohol, poverty, prostitution, heresy, isolation and alienation. In his fortes he turned to prose and began to write religious fiction with an emphasis on the comedic aspect of theology and philosophy. He now writes short novels focusing on the attempt to find meaning in a economic world beset with money laundering, unethical marketing, contraband smuggling, human trafficking, patent trolling, corrupt contracting and every manner of spiritual and psychological desperation and degradation. When he is not writing, he wanders from hospital to medical clinic to surgical room attempting to sustain what little health he has left after a lifetime of complications resulting from birth defects and genetic problems. When he is able, he engages in such hobbies as reading, walking, yoga and meditation; and whenever there is any money left over from his healthcare-related quests, he goes to wine tastings and searches for foodie-related bargains. Before the pandemic, he spent many years gaming various travel-points systems and wrangled many free trips to Europe. He is divorced and has no children, no pets, no real estate, no stocks nor any other assets beyond the $550 in his savings account. His career peaked in the early 2000s when he did comedy gags for a radio station and had about 10,000 listeners per week. However, currently, he may have as few as five active readers on any given day. He no longer has the stamina to promote his work and only finds new readers through ran...

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    Book preview

    Tales of Zen Buddhist Scoundrels - Mel C. Thompson

    Tales of Zen Buddhist Scoundrels

    Mel C. Thompson

    Copyright © 2003 & 2011, 2018

    To find out the many ways you can help the ongoing efforts of all the authors in the Mel C. Thompson Publishing lineup, please use the contact information below:

    Mel C. Thompson Publishing

    3559 Mount Diablo Boulevard, #112

    Lafayette, CA 94549

    melcthompson@yahoo.com

    This book is dedicated to the late Roy Uchizono,

    my first philosophy teacher at Fullerton College,

    who saved countless souls from Fundamentalism.

    Table Of Contents

    Part I: The Voidness School

    A Rival Teacher

    Illicit Love

    Terminology

    Dive Bar Bodhisattva

    Searching For The Atman

    The Pyramid Of The Patriarchs

    A Strict Diet

    The Great Matter

    Joker's Wild

    Zen And The Art Of Not Golfing

    A Night On The Town

    No One In There

    Tranquility

    An Angry Monk And A Small Mouse

    Marriage

    Beauty

    You're The Boss

    The Philosopher

    Definitions

    Nameless Essence Meets Ten Thousand Things

    Part II: The God Box

    The Silent Buddha

    Eternal Life

    Holy Man

    Wash Sheets / Fold Towels

    Why Not Today

    The God Box

    The Begging Bowl

    The Courage Of The Stoics

    A Hopeful Renunciant

    A Lifetime Of Emptiness

    Interview With A Layman

    A Convocation Of Bodhisattvas

    Part III: Saved By A Moth

    A Mediocre Student

    After A Lifetime Of Practice

    Ten Avatars

    Criminal Justice

    Sartorial Concerns

    A Lesson In Logic

    On The Legitimacy Of Zen

    Conversions

    The Evangelical Atheist

    A Superiority Complex

    Joker

    Leaving Tracks

    A Military Man's Dilemma

    Not One Opening

    A Confession Of Love

    To Walk The Pathless Path

    The Perfect Prayer

    Bodhidharma

    A True Buddhist

    Listening To Heads

    The High Art Of Blasphemy

    Spiritual Upstart Meets Adamantine Mind

    Self-Improvement

    Part IV: Only The Wicked Ones

    Renouncing The Faith

    The Old Monk

    The Story Of Politico

    Martyr's Training

    Brief Dialogues

    A Divine Revelation

    Karmic Questions

    A Taoist Adept

    No Inward Signs

    Secret Revivalist Meets Big-Tent Evangelist

    Boundless Generosity

    Cause For Celebration

    On Romance And Blackmail

    Dialogues With Sister Dharmastream

    Part V: The Great Pretense

    After The Meeting

    Atonement

    Authenticity

    Bipolar Bodhisattva

    A Chat With King Yama

    Courage In The Face Of Catastrophic Bodily Transitions

    These Fragments Of Porcelain

    God

    The Idol Of Amida Fo Temple

    What Joku's Student Saw

    The Visiting Minister Said

    Part VI: Your Card-Sharking Teacher

    Li Po And Blind Donkey

    Limitless Compassion

    The Master's Ambivalence

    The Master's Koans

    A Meeting With The Creator

    Mocha Bodhisattva

    A New Student

    Not Showing The Way

    The Noble Eightfold Path

    Part VII: No-Doctrine Buddha

    Hell

    The Fundamental Virtue

    An Unhappily-Married Woman

    Bodhidharma's Other Trip To China

    Trying To Date Sister Dharmastream

    Raging Monotheist Meets The Self-Denier

    Sensei's Koans

    One Great Path

    Sins

    Humility

    Sensei's Fundamentalism

    Visualization

    Some Thoughts On The Trinity

    Part VIII: California Upscale Suburban Believer

    Heaven And Hell

    Truly Devoted

    Regarding The Diamond Sutra

    Fujikami's Certification

    Extinction

    The Shitty World

    Chronic Victim

    The Tale Of Needy Void

    Maitreya

    The Celestial Dictator

    Temple Doors

    Discredit-Your-Religion Meets No-Date-Money

    Dwelling In No Abode Whatsoever

    Many sophomore college kids think Buddhism is gentle,

    and that most other religions are based on fear.

    Within a week of studying with me,

    those kids learn what real fear is.

    — The Dreaded Fujikami

    Part I

    The Voidness School

    Everywhere else they cremate with fire.

    Here we bury them alive.

    — Linji

    A Rival Teacher

    Return To Table of Contents

    A rival Teacher confronted our Master. Your Zen is not real Zen!

    Puzzled, the master scratched his head and said, Then what kind of Zen is it?

    It’s fake Zen! concluded the rival Teacher.

    I will believe you, conceded the Master, but only if you can show us exactly what this fake Zen is like.

    Illicit Love

    Return To Table of Contents

    A monk convened with the Abbot. A pretty, young, married woman keeps trying to lure me into adultery. What now?

    The Abbot replied, If you sleep with her, you will become a hungry ghost for a hundred lifetimes. If you refuse her love, it’s like murdering the Patriarchs.

    Terminology

    Return To Table of Contents

    A rather anxious fellow showed up to one of our Dharma talks with a copy of The Lotus Sutra. Sensei, I was given this copy of the Lotus Sutra by a follower of the Nichiren Sect. Here the Buddha describes the attainment of Total Annihilation of the body and mind. How do you interpret this passage?

    Sensei replied, I’m glad you asked about that. Those passages were of some concern to me when I was a student. Seeking to gain clarity on the matter, I set up a formal meeting with my Zen Master. He received me quite graciously. He had one of his assistants pour us tea and bring us cookies. He inquired about my health and my meditation practice. Towards the end of our meeting I brought up the critical question.

    "Sir, have you read the Lotus Sutra?" I inquired.

    "Yes I have. Why do you ask?" replied the Master.

    "I’m worried, I said, about the passages that refer to Total Annihilation of the body and mind. Perhaps something was lost in translation. What is your interpretation?"

    The Master said, I interpret Total Annihilation to mean Utter Destruction.

    The visitor was a bit shaken by this response and seemed hesitant to say anything more. After a few moments of silence he said, Total Annihilation and Utter Destruction? I find those prospects rather frightening.

    A wide grin came across Sensei’s face. Yes Brother, you and me both.

    Dive Bar Bodhisattva

    Return To Table of Contents

    Sensei used to frequent a dive bar near Japan Town. The bartender was a burly fellow from Okinawa who dabbled in Philosophy.

    Sensei, during your last lecture you said psychiatry was good medicine for the mind. Could you clarify that statement?

    Bartender, answered Sensei, I’ll have a shot of your best Russian vodka.

    I see what you mean, continued the bartender. You also said that that exercise was good medicine for the body. Do you have any further thoughts on that?

    Sensei turned around quickly to ogle a new waitress. Bartender, I’m crazy with lust for that woman.

    That’s a sudden flash of insight for me, chuckled the bartender. I recall you concluded your talk by saying Zen was good medicine for that which is neither body nor mind. Could you give me an example of something that is neither body nor mind?

    Sensei gulped down the vodka and slammed the shot-glass on the counter. Bartender, pour me another one fast.

    The bartender sneered comically and mused, Sensei, if I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re trying to drown your sorrows.

    Wrong! shouted Sensei. You’ve got to drown the self before the sorrows come!

    Searching For The Atman

    Return To Table of Contents

    Before the time of Siddhartha Gotama, Worn-Out-Sandals was walking from village to village when he happened upon Single-Minded-Practice coming out of a deep meditation.

    Worn-Out-Sandals asked, Have you found the Eternal Self yet? Single-Minded-Practice replied, "I have searched my body and mind, practiced countless austerities and received training in every school of yoga, yet I am unable to find the Eternal Self in here."

    Worn-Out-Sandals added, "I have walked around the world, beheld every natural wonder and studied every culture, yet I am unable to find the Eternal Self out there."

    Single-Minded-Practice asked, If the Eternal Self is not to be found inside us nor outside us, then where shall we look?

    Worn-Out-Sandals pointed to Single-Minded-Practice and noted, A bee has landed on your robe.

    The Pyramid Of The Patriarchs

    Return To Table of Contents

    For the last several centuries the Patriarchs of our sect were chosen by an assembly of Abbots from around the country. After the election, the new Patriarch would ascend the Pyramid of the Patriarchs in the center of the Capital City. At the top of the pyramid was a platform just wide enough for a man to sit in the lotus position and thus become the point of the pyramid. It was said that many miracles and other supernatural phenomena took place on these auspicious occasions. Tradition had it that once someone got to the top, they were the Patriarch, no matter how they got there. For this reason the pyramid was heavily guarded.

    It was winter and the Patriarch had died of natural causes. The countryside was covered with snow, making travel hazardous and arduous. The Election Ceremony was delayed several days as the assembly waited for Abbots from far away to make the tedious and uncomfortable journey.

    As the days dragged on, a certain Abbot became impatient. It was well known that he considered himself a candidate for the Patriarchal Legacy, but he’d found out that most of the Electors were already planning to vote for someone else. The situation became unacceptable, so he approached his closest ally.

    Please forgive my immodesty, but I am overcome by desire. I must get to the top of that thing.

    The other Abbot replied, You mean the pyramid? Have you lost your mind? That kind of selfishness goes against every principle we’ve spent our lives teaching. You must get a grip on yourself.

    The first Abbot continued, The front of the pyramid is guarded by three monks, all armed with cudgels. I’m going to need some help doing this. I’m told that in your youth you were an expert martial artist, and even now you carry a wooden sword with you wherever you go.

    That’s true, but it’s been years since I’ve done any sparring. The sword is only an ornament now, protested the other Abbot.

    I’m going to do this with or without your help. Do you want to see me beaten black and blue? demanded the first Abbot.

    The other Abbot pulled the wooden sword out of his travel bag. Brother, there better be a Bishop’s post for me when you’re made Patriarch.

    The next day the two of them approached the front of the pyramid as though ready to pay homage to the memory of the Patriarchs. Three menacing monks stood at the bottom of the stairs, each with their hands itching to make use of their cudgels. The second Abbot approached the one in the center as if to ask some question, but when he got within a couple feet of him, he pulled out his wooden sword and knocked the cudgel out of the guard’s hand. The other two monks rushed over, but were beaten away by the whirling wooden sword which seemed to come at them from every direction. In the ensuing chaos, the usurper rushed up the pyramid. The center guard gave chase, but the Abbot kicked the guard back until he tumbled down the structure.

    A few of the most venerated Bishops in the Capital rushed out of their offices and saw the guards laying dazed on the ground. They looked up and saw that the usurper had made it to the top. They came over to the second Abbot and said, Now we will have no choice but to appoint him Patriarch. We must tell everyone the election is off.

    The usurper assumed the lotus posture on the very seat where all of the Patriarchs had sat before him. A strong gale came over the pyramid. From below one could see his clothes whipping in the wind. The top of the pyramid was glowing. The Cosmos opened up its secrets to the new Patriarch. He saw all of life in the three worlds. He saw The Future Buddha seated in Tushita Heaven and Amida Buddha presiding over billions of souls that had reached The Pure Land. He saw Tibetan mandalas, each with a hundred Buddhas spinning around a jeweled center stone. Each Buddha had four heads, and in each of the heads were dozens of eyes, all of which reflected countless solar systems. Billowing cloud formations thundered overhead, and multicolored rain poured out in torrents. Lightning struck in all directions and a shower of countless lotus petals floated down around him. Armies of arhats from ages past chanted The Heart Sutra to the sound of ten-thousand drums.

    When the visions subsided, the usurper nonchalantly sauntered down from the pyramid and greeted the Elders. The senior Bishop smiled enthusiastically. "Well done, I wish I’d had the courage to do that long ago. Can you tell me how it felt to sit

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