Coronavirus MAGA

 The Chinese government could only keep the massacre secret for so long, but the few weeks that it did were more than enough for the coronavirus to spread out of control in yet another major city. By then scores of its citizens were defying the quarantine orders. They fled in droves.  Reuters obtained smuggled footage of sick, feverish women and children being gunned down by mask-clad, steely-eyed soldiers. Immediately after it aired world leaders came out to condemn the Chinese. Most did at least. Back in the USA Trump, who was still trying to broker a trade deal with Xi, remained silent until finally speaking about it weeks later at a political rally.

“I hope you’re not watching CNN folks. We don’t watch fake news, right?” 

The crowd let out a thunderous chorus of cheers as he continued.

“It’s a fake virus people. First climate change and now this. It’s all so fake I can’t believe how fake it is. People, the smartest people let me tell you I’ve got the smartest people talking and saying, telling things and they tell me things. A hoax. Never been a bigger disease hoax. All the time they tell me.”

His showman sense assured him he had their attention. He kept on.

"I called Xi and said what about this virus?” And you know what he said. He told me it’s a fake. He said ‘Trump it’s not real. Nothing true! It’s the news. They make it up.”

“So who am I gonna believe? The deep state, you know, they hate me.  So I know what you mean. Trust me I know. They said Trump will never win. Right? Hillary had 17 million illegals vote for her and still I won. Biggest win ever. No virus. The fake news won’t tell you what the thing we know. God chose Trump.  All the best religious say it. People tell me God…”

The applause was deafening for such a small crowd. The rapidly spreading virus had rendered his rallies more infrequent and not as highly attended, but those who did show were crazed with passion for their leader.  He spoke louder over their cheers—over their jeers every time he mentioned a Democrat or the media.

 Elsewhere news outlets were reporting of infected people being hauled off to sick camps in North Korea, Saudi Arabia, Russia, and, sadly, the USA. The Trump White House attempt at calling the sick camps—the death camps—“Power treatment resort” never caught on. Too many government workers leaked reports, images and footage of Americans locked in cages. Thousands of Trump supporters, ironically enough, died in cages once used to hold migrant children who’d been separated from their parents—cages the Trump supporters  had argued did not exist or, if they did, were like summer camps for “illegals”. 

 The CDC, FDA, EPA and other American governmental organizations that once worked tirelessly to protect the environment and health of American citizens had long been bled of most their researchers, scientists, doctors, and seasoned support staff.  All that remained were people too scared or brainwashed to leave. Even some of them, however, couldn’t ignore the obvious by the time millions of Americans had succumbed to the virus.  Death was everywhere, yet in nations such as Canada and France, Sweden and England, Germany and Japan—indeed every nation with a government run public health care system in place, there’d be far lower death rates than in America. Death per capita in the United States would nearly match that of many third world countries. The reason the virus spread like wildfire in the US was due to the high rate of uninsured.  Many of those infected were used to braving severe colds or the flu without seeking medical attention. For millions a doctor visit could bleed the month’s grocery budget dry so they stayed at home infecting family members. They went to work and infected coworkers. By the time they began pouring into overcrowded emergency rooms it was far too late.  

 Wholesale panic was the result. The sick camps were set up while fear-driven neighbors turned a blind eye to those being hauled off in buses. More avoided going to hospitals out of fear they’d never see home again. For profit prisons were used since the disease had already spread to many of them and prisoners were more easily silenced than the general public. Riots broke out in prisons overcrowded with desperate, terrified Americans. Prison guards were overpowered. Sick citizens and convicts fled the living hell on earth side by side. Some riots were put down semi-humanely. Others not so much. Troops were called in. Trump ordered the Pentagon to fire on infected masses fleeing the “sick camps”. In all but one instance commanders defied his order. 

In looking back on it all the one thing that’s most amazing, stupefying even, is the vast number of people who remained loyal to Trump right down till the very end. 

The end for Trump, by the way, came as the virus was claiming its final victims in the States. It continued to claim lives in the USA months after other first world, industrialized nations had gotten it  under control. With the US government in chaos Trump had resorted to leading the nation by twitter from his Florida property. Alas with the virus continuing to spread in the warm Florida climate, by and by it made its way beyond the wall that Trump had crews hastily build around Mar a Lago. 

Some say it was an assassination—that with America so weakened Putin had no more need for Trump. They say Russia GRU sent in the infected prostitutes. As Trump grew more paranoid of the "Deep State" he relied on guards he hired personally rather than the Secret Service for protection. Three of the guards have stated the prostitutes were brought in for Trump but he insists they were snuck in for the guards without his knowledge. Whatever the truth may be one thing is clear. Trixie and Candy were infected. The virus spread like wildfire once inside the Mar a Lago compound.  And so the the elderly, Big Mac fed, out of shape world leader contracted the virus and eventually breathed his last.

As news of his demise spread there were still millions who supported him and refused to believe it.  Many never even heard it till weeks later since OAN and the newer Trump Channel—the only two news sources they trusted—never aired a word of it.  Still loyal to Trump, still heeding his call to ignore so much of what they heard and saw, they remained holed up in their homes. Garbage piled up outside and food supplies running low, they heard nothing of the president’s death. 

Harold and Marge sat on a sofa in one such abode. Unbeknownst to either of them, Harold had become infected on his last trip out to trade some of Marge’s gold jewelry for something, for anything, to eat. Two days after returning he was doubled over coughing up a lung. 

“Marge, maybe we should change the channel and see what the other stations are saying.” 

She sat and starred at the TV as motionless as a statue.  After another coughing fit he caught his breath and spoke again. “Marge, I think maybe the virus is real.”

She exploded.

“Don’t be an idiot Harold! It’s fake! Do you hear me? Fake! You’re okay! Trump is in control. Only Trump can save us!”

Harold went into another fit of coughing, stood up to get the remote, and dropped to the floor.

Marge sat starring at strange new images on her screen. Figures in hazmat suits tending to masses of people. A man in a white lab quote saying something about symptoms.  

A new scene. A swarm of ambulances, reporters in medical masks, and US troops in some palm-lined resort like area. 

A two word caption on the screen read: Trump dead.

It was then that she noticed the logo on the screen.

“CNN? Harold you idiot!” 

She got up and pried the remote from his cold, dead hand and changed it back to the Trump Channel immediately. She sat back down as months old footage of Trump streamed into the dimly lit room.

“We’re going to build a wall!” 

She took comfort in Trump’s words.

“Build the wall” she repeated.

Yet to notice Harold was still lying motionless on the carpet, she leaned forward to cough then settled back into the sofa with eyes fixed on the screen and fell asleep.

人間万事塞翁が馬 Ningen Banji Saiou ga Uma

人間万事塞翁が馬

Translated directly from Japanese to English it reads: "Humans everything Saiou's horse"

Fortunately nobody's ever put a gun to my head, a sword to my esophagus, vice grips to my testicles or worse, and forced me to choose a favorite Japanese proverb, but if they did this'd definitely be it.

It's not your every day run of the mill well known kind of proverb like "two birds one stone".  Nigen banji is a Japanese proverb derived from an old Chinese folk tale, so you need to know the story to understand it. Every now and again the opportunity arises to share it with someone but even though it's a short story, if not speaking face to face then it's a bit long for text messaging or to tap out in an email even, so I always resort to googling and sharing a link. But enough of that already.
No more seeking it out someone else's version of it. It's high time I write and publish my own.

Ningen Banji Saiou ga Uma

Human's Everything Saiou's Horse

Long, long ago in the northern parts of China lived an old farmer named Saiou. His friends called him Sai.  He only had one horse and one son to help him work the farm so when word got out after his horse ran off one day all his friends and neighbors stopped by to console him. "So sorry to hear about your horse Sai. That's such bad luck!" To which Sai replied; "Bad luck, good luck? Who knows?"

A few days later he was out working the fields only to look up and see his horse returning to the farm with another younger, stronger horse following it. News of his good fortune spread quickly and once again friends and neighbors came over, this time exclaiming "How lucky! Seriously, Dude you won the horse lottery!" to which ol Sai just smiled and said "Good luck, bad luck? Who knows?"

Well sure enough a few days later that new horse threw his son. He landed hard and broke his arm. Before long neighbors and friends were there again saying "Oh Sai this is such bad luck. Sure hope your son recovers soon it's gonna be hell working the farm without him." But Sai being Sai just looked at them all and said "Bad luck, Good luck, Who knows?"

Not a week had passed when, while out working his field, a warlord on horseback appeared with a large group of young men in tow. He was going through the area collecting all the young men to go fight and die in the Emperor's latest war. When Sai called his son out the warlord saw the boy's condition and moved on without him.

And the neighbors came by and said...
And Sai replied...

The moral of the story is, of course, that we often don't know what's good and bad. Our vision is limited to but a small corner of the big life picture. If honest with ourselves any one of us could cite more than a few "bad" that turned out "good", or vice versa.  I know I sure can. Two huge disappointments, or one disappointment and one outright game changer life FAIL, assure me Sai knows what the hell he's talking about. Thus this becoming my favorite proverb the first time I heard it and remaining so ever since.

It comes to mind every time a "bad" thing happens in life.  The most recent example is getting a call the other night and learning, quite unexpectedly, that one of my English teaching jobs was getting the ax. It's a good twenty to 25% of my income that soon will go "Poof!' and be gone.  But before panic or even worry set in I recalled the tale of Saiou, which brought to mind a couple of other "bad news" events that were some of the best things ever to happen to me. Like if I'd have landed any one of those city FD jobs I tested for up and down the State of California in the mid 90's, even the ones that I was high on the list and they hired guys under me for why I'll never know, then I'd have never come to Japan, never met my wife, never played my role in bringing my kids into this life. I just knew after receiving each and every "Thank you but..." letter of rejection that it was terrible luck. So much for certainty.  The same goes for that night the bottle killed me. Ambulance, policemen, hospital and worse.  Maybe I'll tell that tale one of these days. It was one for the books and then some. It was one of the ugliest and by far most humiliating experience of my life hands down.

Yet here I sit over fifteen years sober because of it.  I'd never have taken the actions I did, never committed myself to live by "To Thine Own Self Be True", never changed my way of living, thinking, believing and relating to myself and others in order to live in the Heaven of Here and Now if that hadn't have happened so...

Good? Bad? Who knows?

Thank you Saiou. Thank you and the horse you rode in on for helping me see Life in a new light.

And while I was going to end it there I think it only right to add that, all of the above notwithstanding, I still believe getting testicles squashed in a pair of vice grips would be really bad luck.  I just can't see how any good could come of that one, but as Sai would say...
 "Who knows?"


人間万事塞翁が馬とは、人生における幸不幸は予測しがたいということ。 幸せが不幸に、不幸が幸せにいつ転じるかわからないのだから、安易に喜んだり悲しんだりするべきではないというたとえ。

Arjuna or the news

It's been over a week now, closer to two actually, of as little exposure to news as possible without locking myself away in a box somewhere.  I still go online to check email and haven’t gone off of facebook, so of course I’ve seen the biggest news of late—things such as the horrific wildfires in Australia and the apparent uncontrolled spiral towards war between Iran and America. The latter was every other post when I glanced at Facebook just a few minutes ago. An assassination. A retaliation. What’s next? I skim a few comments. “WWIII” some read. Fear is dominant. This looks important I should read more. But no. I walk upstairs and pull a book from the shelf to read during lunch instead. Let the crazy, the horror, the fear and alarmism, hell the end of civilization as we know it if that’s what’s to come, let it all go on without me dwelling on it for a bit longer. I want to read of Arjuna going to war instead. 

I know the pages are dog-eared and some of the text is highlighted but can’t remember which book it’s in so bring a few down to the kitchen table. 

This one? No. 

This one? Yes, but that’s not the the passage I was thinking of. 

Ah-ha! This one. 

MYTHS OF LIGHT: Eastern Metaphors of the Eternal

This! This is what I was looking for 

On page 47 is Joseph Campbell’s brief summary of a ‘little jewel of spiritual revelation” from the Bhagavad Gita. 

The Horror

… The young warrior-prince Arjuna is the leader of an army, along with his brothers, the Pandavas. They have lost their possessions—their kingdom and even their shared bride—in a dice game with their cousins, the Kauravas, who are the leaders of the opposing army. Now, Arjuna’s charioteer is his friend Krsna, who is an incarnation of the god Visnu; Krsna is the lord of the title of the book, in that he is both a king and an avatar of the lord of the owrld. Though he is God incarnate himself, he is playing the role of charioteer at this cataclysmic battle between the armies led by these two bands of brothers. In the trumpet call to start, Arjuna says to Krsna, “Drive me out between the two armies before I let the battle start; I just want to see for a minute.”

So Krsna does drive Arjuna out. Arjuna sees on both sides men whom he admires, men whom he loves, and he drops his bow. He goes pale and says, “Better that I should die here than that I should let loose this battle fury.”

His friend, the god, looks at him and says, “Whence comes this cowardice? You have lost your mind; you have lost your equilibrium. You are a warrior, and the highest goal of a warrior is a just war.” Now, all wars are just from both sides, always. Krsna, having the divine long view, understands this. “So get in there and fight. Did you think you were going to kill these people? They are already dead!” Then he touches Arjuna’s eye and Arjuna sees his friend Krsna transformed into the lord of the world. He is a tremendous, monstrous divinity, with many mouths with great tusks in these mouths. In this expanded vision, Arjuna sees both armies flying into these mouths and smashing like grapes, and the blood pouring down from the maws like spilled wine.

Arjuna’s hair lifts and he’s ays, “Who are you?” 

His former companion answers and says, “I am Kala. I am black time, who am here for the end of the world. I am licking up mankind. Now,” he says, his appearance returning to its normal blue-skinned calm, “did you think you were going to kill these men? They are already dead, as I told you. Those forms that you kill are total, but the immortal portion is untouched. What was never born never dies. Rains do not wet it; fire does not burn it. So get in there and seem to be doing things. You are to be the instrument of destiny itself.” 

For some reason that I’m not quite sure, choosing to re-read that instead of the news has left me better fit to carry out the rest of my work for the day, which I better get to as soon as I share this if I'm to finish before my next class of students arrive. 

 I know it’s there. All the worrisome news: the crazy world outside my door. In a minute or two online I saw enough to know the world is still a mess. My concern that belligerent men are at the helms of powerful nations—nations with weapons and technology capable of ending civilization as we know it—is still with me. My concern that one of those so-called leaders is a narcissistic ignoramus in way over his head hasn’t waned much either. It's enough to fill me with rage if I dwell on the power he has to damage the world my kids are inheriting.  Thus I’ll do my civic duty and vote to remove him and his cowardly enablers if or when the next election ever comes about.  I may sign a petition or twelve or call one of my elected representatives to voice my disapproval again before then as well. But for today, for this moment, I opted to fill my mind something other than the current news.—something to remind me that the world has always been a mess and humankind has imaginatively trudged upward and onward trying to make sense of it all in spite of it.