Friday, September 4, 2009

flossing tiger meat

Yesterday a person reminded me in our conversation of the zen story of the dude/dudess hanging by a decaying root jutting out of a cliff face with a hungy tiger above and a hungry tiger below and the dude/ss plucking a nearby strawberry, eating it and saying how delicious!

That story irritates the hell out of me. Not so much the story itself, I suppose, as the way it is interpreted. "We are in a predicament so eat the effing strawberry and enjoy it!" Which interpretation is usually followed up with a beatific smile of all knowing and omni toleration, always the sign of the beginnings of a vomitous sainthood.

Much is left out in that interpretation. Ignored. Forget the strawberry. I'm eating the tigers! Devouring those suckers whole! And the story too! I'm talking of a consciousness state here.

We are the tigers! Tigers who have successfully trapped ourselves into hanging from an uncertain rooting and all we want to do, all we can think to do is eat a strawberry! Reminds me of that president who told us the best response to world calamity was to go shopping. He knew exactly what he was talking about and to whom he was speaking. Forget the tigers, eat the strawberry.

Enough already with the strawberry! If you are going to tell me that story, you better have tiger bone marrow stuck in your teeth.

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