hara hachi bu

Staying at Darick's. They kept the program, the menu, from Too Much Light the other night, helping me remember some of the plays that got lost in the cobwebs of my mind. One, Hara Hachi Bu, is about the Japanese concept of eating until you are only 80% full--supposedly a concept that leads to longevity. It's given me plenty of food for thought.

I don't feel hunger or fullness like I used to. I don't like being hungry, but I don't think my habits are much better or worse for longevity than Hara Hachi Bu. I wait until I'm 80% hungry and then eat until it doesn't hurt any more. Every now and then I find myself really full, but typically only on special occasions: x-mas, b-days, and other jours fériés. More typically, I find myself riding back from work and have a sudden blood sugar drop, forcing me to stop and buy some food.

The other day, coming back from the bike tour on my lovely red bike, I had such a drop in my energy and stopped at 7-11 for gatorade and a banana. And while I was standing on the corner, dazed, nursing myself back to coherence, this drunk named Frank teetered over and wanted to make conversation. I was a sitting duck. But it wasn't so bad as long as he kept rambling on about his step-father who he thought was his real father until he was 17. But when he asked me about myself, I just didn't have the energy to make words come out of my mouth. Finally, I finished my snack and went to throw it away, muttering some excuse. At this point he wanted to make sure I didn't think he was gay. "I'm not gay you know." Dude, whatever. I just want to go "home" and shower. I come back from the garbage and he proselytizes me with his deeply held theological tenets: "God made Adam and Eve not Adam and Steve." If I had had the energy, I would have taken this bait and run with it, but I didn't. Schade.

You can probably meet Frank yourself if you hang out near Truman College at Wilson and Racine.

Coffee yesterday turned into a party as Sarah's old roommate popped and then so did my old roommate, Brian, who knew where I was from foursquare. Every now and then it works like that: "hey, I'm here!" "cool! I'll join you." Then I went on a nearly 40-mile bike ride (according to map my ride) with my friend Anna (who just got a swanky new road bike) down to Hyde Park and then back to Wicker Park where I taught my piano lesson for the week and had dinner (ribs). Then back to Darick's to rest.

Then, they brought me back some ice cream and we watched Jesus Camp. Holy Hell. These fundamentalist evangelical kids are getting brainwashed into thinking they've been enlisted (by god) in the army of good versus the forces of evil led by satan. I think they are scared shitless by what they see on FuxNews about Muslim fundamentalist terrorist camps, which then becomes their model. The atmosphere in the camps reminded me much more of Jim Jones rather than traditional Christianity. [I've seen that documentary on Jones on MSNBC a couple times, and I really don't think Jonestown was such a terrible idea (up until the mass murder/suicide). The people they interview remember a sense of community that I have never seen nor experienced (even in the co-op). The methods may be suspect, but the results seem positive.] In Jesus Camp, the language they use can be revolting, emotionally manipulative, but the tears and joy they feel is real. How much lying can be justified by the ends? Which parts of our world views are based on unfounded beliefs that we invented or held on to because they make us feel more comfortable?

Who but children can believe that the world is so black and white? I happen to think children should be taught black and white rules first and then learn about grey. But the camp is run by adults: a small number of in denial about the heterogenous nature of the right and wrong, rebelling against the greyness by indoctrinating children and then feeding off their naïve idealism.

Crying meditation: because you're a bad person and need to repent.

Darick, who is from Missouri like a lot of the kids in the movie, actually went to such camps and remembers speaking in tongues (which sounds a lot like gibberish). And look at him; he turned out alright.

Some religions try to escape the evil in the world; some try to embrace the natural world as good and wholesome. Some aspire to ascend; some descend. Which makes Atheism a religion. Atheists are the ultimate version of descending: there is no up there, only down here. Pagans are pretty much about descending too. Buddhists and Christians, on the other side, are not so different: down here is evil, an illusion; we should overcome it. And I want it all from Burning Man to Thich Nhat Hanh. Stuck in the middle yet again.

Thich Nhat Hanh brainwashing some people.