My German friend, Burnt, taught me how to say, "You drive me crazy!" in German. I said it to a girl yesterday who spoke German. "Deu macht miesht farukt," I said.*
"How?" she giggled. "In what way?"
"In every way," I said.
Later, we used the line in the latest Korean Slipshod song. Here is the chorus:
Something about Korean cuisine
Macht mien farukt!
Korean cuisine...
I will post the song later.
* It is actually spelled "Du machst mich verruckt." Clay was kind enough to let us know in the comments below. As you can tell, I never spell check anything in English or German. I will keep the mistake though. I like that I was close without knowing any other phrase besides "brush the dirt off your shoulders" or "mach deu schmutz veu deinen schultern" as they say in German land.
Hyon Gak Gives Dharma Talk, I Give Nothing
I went to Hwa Gye Sah Temple today. It was nice. I sat in on the dharma talk (even though D. told me not to pay attention to dharma talks), and even managed to get on Korean TV. I asked Hyon Gak Sunim JDPS, guiding teacher of the Seoul International Zen Center and Hwa Gye Sah Temple, what he thought about Byron Katie's 4 questions.
"It's Buddhism," he said. Then he took each question in turn and answered them Zen style by smacking his hand on the podium:
"Is that true?" Smack!
Can I absolutely know that's true?" Smack!
Who would I be without that thought?" Smack!!
Turn it around. Smack.
Then he smacked the podium and asked me, "Is it true?" I had no idea what he was referring to. I wasn't paying attention. Some camera guy was in my face. I just said, "I don't know." Those Buddhists love "I don't know."
"You don't know?" he asked, rather surprised.
"No," I said.
"Okay," he said, and then he asked this Korean guy, and the Korean guy smacked the ground in reply. I could have done this, but it felt kind of moot to me. I mean, I understand how smacking the ground unifies everything, because we're all experiencing the sound simultaneously, but I felt fake smacking the ground after he did 8 times. I also didn't really know. I mean, I could say I do, but I think I'm getting dumber. I also don't really care.
Maybe, D. was right. Maybe, I need to shut my mouth and fuck the dharma talks. I do a lot better with sitting. Talk just bores me - unless it's stories. I love telling stories.
After the temple, I went with my friend, So Hee, to Penelope's in Suyu Yuk. That was fun. We told stories about our high school sexual experiences. Then I drank a Guiness, smoked cigarettes, and yakety-yaked some more. I like telling stories.
During Hyon Gak's talk he mentioned wondoo, a Korean word for the essential question that is passed down by a teacher to a student for them to consider during their monkhood or life. He said that he didn't get any wondoo from Zen Master Seung Sahn. He said he already had his wondoo since he was a little boy. It was to ask why. Why am I alive? What is it all about? That made me think about what D. told me in the bar we went to: "Why do you write?" he asked me. "Answer with no words."
I guess that's my wondoo. I don't have any answer. I could smack the ground and all, but that doesn't seem write (I meant right, but I'll keep my mistake). I could think about it, but that wouldn't get me anywhere. I guess that's what I'm supposed to ask when I'm meditating and all. I think I'll ask it tomorrow morning. If I don't, then I won't be upset. I just don't care about wondoo. I don't care about Zen. I like it, but I don't really care all that much.
I like stories. I like movies. I like Spiderman 3. I also like that Byron Katie put up something I wrote for her on her blog. That was cool. Now I'm going to watch Spiderman 3. I think I'm in love. I'm going to watch Spiderman 3. I'm watching Spiderman 3. I'm tired. I like donuts. I'm tired. I don't like donuts. I like the word donuts. I'm going to sleep. I am not watching Spiderman 3. I am turning off my fan. I turned off my fan. I am lying in bed. I am asleep.
Children's Day, Spidey, and Sticky (Rated R)
Today I walked with a friend to a Children's Day Celebration closeby to campus, said hi to women with pink hair, played soccer with a boy, and watched some disabled children master the art of the yo-yo.
Although I look awake in the pic above, don't let that fool you. I am hella-tired. I have had an extremely busy opening week for the new semester. I am thankful tomorrow I get to sit at Hwa Gye Sah Temple. I will get bored and maybe see Spidey.
From what I hear, this is on C. Dale's to-do list as well. I can't say I'm a huge fan of the series, but I do like comic book heroes. They can make you feel like writing a poem when there is no way you would think of writing one. In fact, there is a comic book hero I have spent a lot of time studying. You probably don't know who she is, because I found her out here in Korea, but if you're interested there is a lot of info on Sticky and her various crimefighting campaigns in brochures I can send you.
Here is an excerpt from the brochure I got on Tuesday in Sinchon. It's been translated by me from the Korean, so it's got that shaggy dog feel as some of my colleagues might say:
"Sticky does not eat meat. She believes in wholesome meals, where raisins are the key ingredient. She has a level 7 power punch. If you are caught in a turbine or have put your hand into a machine you weren't supposed to, she can get you out very fast. Her legs are like two redwoods facing each other. They are very tall and long..."
The cards I got of Sticky are interesting too. They continue in the same rough-hewn way. Occasionally, there's this great bit of laguage where it gets very romantical. I love when things get romantical. Take the back of card 16 of The Sticky Series #1:
"Sticky was born in a mud pie on the side of Pukahsan mountain. She was born and her family said, "Katz!" They raised her to know her strong lineage. They gave her fish and kim chi. Now she is as strong as a boar in the forest. She will destroy all those who fuck with her (my translation, rated R)..."
Well, that's not as romantical as I thought it would be. It's still pretty tits if you ask me. I mean, Sticky looks totally sick on the card. She's got this lederhosen get-up with suspenders like in "Sound of Music," but she's got that whole "I'm from Seoul so don't fuck with me going to the club in Hung Da" thing too. It's in her eyes and the cape she's got. It's red with blue pinstripes and glitter. (If you get a microscope and look at the card, you can see that all around the edge of the cape there are these little galbi (meat frying on a pan) cartoon drawings. That is so bad ass, if you ask me.)
Anyway, that's why I'm going to probably see Spidey. I've just been so into Sticky, that I figure I might as well get my fill on him, because when is Hollywood going to put out Asian superheroes that aren't Voltron or Pokemon? When will Sticky ever see the light of day, right?
If you want me to send you Sticky cards, I will. It'll cost you 10 bucks. Just drop it into my paypal, piroozkalayeh@gmail.com (for-shizzle), then holler at me, and we'll get the card sent off boom, boom, smack, smack.
Over and Out,
P.
MY 5 FAVORITE SONGS OF TONIGHT
"Watching the Detectives" by Elvis Costello - Yummy. Makes me feel sexy and loved.
"(Just Like) Starting Over" by John Lennon - Makes me want to get in a relationship.
"Rubylove" by Cat Stevens - Makes me sing inside.
"That's All Right Mama" by Elvis Presley - Reminds me why I got into music in the first place.
"Little Bird" by The White Stripes - Tweet! Tweet!
Shoot! Shoot!
Brad Warner and Boris Yeltsin Sit Down and Shut Up!
Brad Warner, one of my favorite human beings in the world, has a new book out entitled, Sit Down and Shut Up! If you like Zen, punk rock, and no bullshit, it might be for you. If not, you can enjoy his song, "Boris Yeltsin."
Brad, you rock! I'll be back home in February to get bored. Catch you soon, brother!
Gun Control
The young boy had his colored pencils lined up on his desk. He didn't reach for them or ask his teacher what to draw. He was going to find the picture. This is what he called drawing.
"Can't you see that everyone else is almost done?" his teacher asked.
"Yes," the boy frowned. "I'm finding it."
"Sugar!" the teacher said and picked up his black colored pencil. "Plain sugar!"
The boy watched her draw a trunk on his notebook paper. She started at the base and moved up through the green parallel lines. This impressed the boy. He didn't like to go through lines. He couldn't draw circles either. He told this to the girl sitting next to him. She agreed. The boy was glad she did. It made him feel better. He picked up his orange colored pencil and made it talk to the girl.
"I am pencil," he said. "I am orange."
"You are silly," the girl said and laughed.
"I am pencil," the boy said again.
"Time to color," the teacher smiled. She put her hand on the boy's and guided him back and forth through the green lines and inside the Sun. "There you go."
The boy grew quiet. He held his breadth. He counted to ten. He let out his breadth.
"Okay," she smiled and lifted his hand. "All done."
Cho looked at the paper. "You found it!" he said.
"We found it together," the teacher smiled.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
