The cow says...

The original idea for the Master Chen and Foo series came from a koan that I wrote. My koan is a spoof of a Japanese Zen koan called Joshu's Dog which goes something like this:

A monk asked Joshu, a Chinese Zen master: "Has a dog Buddha-nature or not?"

Joshu answered: "Mu."

Whether or not you fully understand the meaning of the koan might be relevant to your spiritual life, but is not relevant to understanding my koan. My koan relies only on wordplay and it goes like this:

Joshu, a Chinese Zen master, asked a cow: "Has a cow Buddha-nature or not?"

The cow said: "Mu."

I called the koan "Joshu's Cow" and I would tell it to people and nobody understood it because it is a pun on an obscure allusion to a riddle that has no answer. That's a lot of responsibility to heap upon an unsuspecting victim who just happens to be standing next to me at a party, attempting to dip his broccoli floret into the only available bowl of ranch dressing.

It reminds me of another riddle I wrote involving Arnold Schwarzenegger and healthcare and it goes like this:

Q: Why did Arnold Schwarzenegger have to take allopurinol?

A: Gout!

This riddle doesn't work very well in written form because the answer must be said using an Arnold Schwarzenegger impersonation so that it sounds a bit more like:

"GEEEEE-YOWWWTT!!"

Really, the only funny part of the riddle is the impersonation because, without the correct voice, the answer to the riddle simply becomes a medical fact followed by an exclamation point. Informative, and mildly startling, but not funny.

The riddle can't be written without losing the meaning of the answer. The riddle cannot be told by someone who cannot do a Schwarzenegger impersonation. The riddle cannot be understood by anyone who does not understand that allopurinol is a drug that reduces the amount of uric acid in the blood and is commonly used for the prevention of gout. In fact, the only way to explain the meaning of the riddle to an uninitiated listener is to tell the person the answer to the riddle before you have asked it.

It is a bad riddle on many, many levels.

The upshot is I learned that, while I am not very good at writing jokes and riddles that are understandable and funny, I am good at writing elaborate explanations as to why they are not understandable and funny, as well as why they should be understandable and funny if only the rest of humanity wasn't so stubborn about persistently being themselves, and would all just become me instead.

I am good at these things because I am passionate about finding complex connections between seemingly disparate ideas. It makes me happy to mix the highbrow and the lowbrow, the intellectual and the moronic, the profound and the banal, the serious and the satirical, because this is what is inside of me and what I need to express.

I have not yet learned how to express all of this within the simple and elegant context of a joke or riddle. Instead, I created Master Chen and Foo to serve this purpose. So, here it is, the very first Master Chen and Foo, based off of the koan "Joshu's Cow".

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In a time before now...

In a place not here...

Master Chen and Foo...

TALK TO ANIMALS

One day, Apprentice Foo asked warrior sage Master Chen, "Master, can an 

animal be enlightened?"

"Walk with me through the pastures, Foo," said Master Chen, "and we shall see."

Soon, Master Chen and Foo happened upon a sheep, and Master Chen said to the

sheep, "Can a sheep be enlightened?"

And the sheep said, "Baa."

"The sheep cannot be enlightened," said Master Chen, "so I must...CUT OFF 

HIS HEAD!"

And Master Chen cut off the sheep's head.

Next, Master Chen and Foo happened upon a chicken, and Master Chen said to the

chicken, "Can a chicken be enlightened?"

And the chicken said, "Cluck."

"The chicken cannot be enlightened," said Master Chen, "so I must...CUT OFF

HER HEAD!"

And Master Chen cut off the chicken's head.

Finally, Master Chen and Foo happened upon a cow, and Master Chen said to the

cow, "Can a cow be enlightened?"

And the cow said, "Mu."

"The cow is enlightened," said Master Chen.

"I understand, Master," said Foo.

"Good," said Master Chen, "because now, I must...CUT OFF HIS HEAD!"

And Master Chen cut off the cow's head.

"But Master," said Foo, "If the cow was enlightened, why did you cut off his

head?"

"Because, Foo," said Master Chen, "the cow is also DELICIOUS.  Go grab a hacksaw

from shed...we gonna eat GOOD tonight!"

And Foo was enlightened, but only a little.

So ends the lesson of TALK TO ANIMALS.

Where is my mind?

I have absolutely no idea how to use Blogger so these entries will have nothing extra on them for now. They will all be first drafts as well.

This approach is appropriate given that I have been spending a lot of time with Ernest Hemingway and he would appreciate the stark simplicity of a default template, although he would not agree to using first drafts. He would say to start all writing with one true sentence.

I don't know where this writing comes from or where it will go.

It originates in my mind but I don't know where my mind lives. Not just in a profound or philosophical sense but from a practical sense as well. I have emotions and inspirations and dreams that do not appear to have an origin in my conscious mind.

In dreams, we create stories with characters and plots and settings. The stories must either be created in full before we experience them or improvised as we experience them. Either way, the storyteller of our minds must be separate from the audience of our minds, or we would already know the entire story the moment the dream begins. We could not be surprised when the evil man who is hiding in the dark cellar of our nightmares springs out and chases us.

The storyteller and the audience come from the same single mind but one does not know about the other. This is strange.

We create labels for this mystery because we are human beings and we need a semblance of control over the mysteries. You probably already have your own label for this idea. You might call it neurophysiology or the Freudian id or universal consciousness or the divine will of God, and your labels will stick as long as you slap them on hard enough.

Labels are only words. They are inert placeholders until we come up with better inert placeholders. We don't really need these labels if we can learn to face the mysteries of existence and accept them as they are. And this is a difficult thing to do.