For some, the allure of awakening is the Buddha’s promise of Nirvana and its juvenile expectation and periscope superfallacy that the stone-cold high you get from perfectly pretending to be dead in your head is bliss sufficient to cure you of suffering. From this, the Buddha instructs us to suppose we may disengage from direct contact with Being, and from this detachment from precious life itself he assures that we may accord ourselves false the accomplishment of compassion and award ourselves highest moral authority. In truth, the Buddha and his sycophants know nothing of compassion at all, for compassion requires that your skin is physically in others’ games, and anything short of that is pity, which is odious in its sloth and contempt. The moralism that he suppose you should earn accomplish this narcosis of idiot, self-hating self-abnegation he calls Nirvana is a platform for a piety and vanity as ugly as any Evangelical Insurance Policy Christian you fled to the Buddha’s sanghas to escape.
What an embarrassment— that you should fall for such a con, for such an obvious delusion.
A2 begins with the advent of nirvana for some, yes. It certainly did with me. But I was daft as to supposed when I hit Nirvana that it was the destination and that I need move no further. I arrived via different means than he prescribed as ‘the only way’— and in so doing, evidenced for myself both the plainness of Siddartha’s mistake in presuming he had deleted his ego and the obvious truth that the bliss was narcotic and there was much, much more to be discovered beyond it.
To enter into A2, you must cast off the supposed necessity of curing suffering. In suffering there is nothing to cure: It is your greatest teacher, and it illuminates plainly the dimensions of your physical being thus of your power. For when you turn away from suffering, like a petty spoiled child, you succeed only in rejecting yourself, and falling before the might of your apathy. Almost all suffering, if turned into/in-to, is gateway to power.
Consider: Climate change is accomplished only through the motions of your physical bodies, and via no other means. You engage in these quite mindlessly, and without much investment of your physical power at all. Indeed, you disallow that you do anything of the kind all, and then excuse yourselves from consequence supposing yourselves helpless before the culturally defined motions of your heard. Your heart, you suppose, exonerates you from this sin of abdication of your physical might— and thus releases you from the odious ownership of its consequence, which is the rape and deletion of your Mother’s Eden. You are asleep at the wheel, investing a bare 10% of your barely developed physical strength, and by this somnambulate might alone, you have accidentally transformed your world. Do not turn away from this, do not be so spoiled and cowardly a child as to hide from this consequence for reason of shame. What’s done is done: accept the greater message beneath the apparent sin of your abdication of agency.
That you have accomplished the near destruction of your world mindlessly with your bodies is plain signal to you: that you are most mighty! Awaken fully to what you are! Awaken to the full of you, claim the might that is your birthright from the enemy who has duped you with tokens and drugs and pornography and scandal to using that might only partially against yourselves, your Mother, and your grandchildren. Awaken, claim the might that is your birth right, your endogenous technology, your zero-point energy, and turn this needlessly self-damning tide with just another twenty percent of your physical might intentionally applied to the matter of winning your world from the enemy, for your grandchildren.
Yeah, you’re not in bliss in A2. Get over it. You don’t need to be high to save the world.
The bliss is narcosis, dude— I’ve so vastly further than Nirvana, and I tell you: the bliss is nothing— it is a poisonous distraction. If nirvana is so attainable and so purifying, what Buddhism, after 1,200 years, plainly failed to deliver us all away from this course of wickedness? Where are all the damned bodhisattvas were were promised? How can it be that this clergy, supposing itself not-religious and truly scientific, as failed to keep data, measure the efficacy of it’s methods, and keep track of what was promised to us— a growing of bodhisattvas who ratio to the global population increases explosively over time?
And how have we all missed that this great sage, Guatama Siddhartha, your Buddha, spent most his life a prince so wealthy and spoiled he was bored with sex, Soma, opium, and a host of depravities? How have we missed that he was a junkie? How have we missed that his clinging to the ultimate endogenous high— nirvana— anything other than a junkie’s answer to the matter of truth? And how have we missed that the practices he bequeathed us are precisely those a junkie would advise us to: You’re doing it wrong if you aren’t getting it right like I did?
How have we fallen for such obviously odious bullshit?