Poverty Is Not an Accident

Poverty Is Not an Accident
Nelson Mandela

Sunday, April 25, 2004

Ram Dass

You are reading http://livinginthehood.blogspot.com

Independent Lens: "Ram Dass: Fierce Grace"

Self delusion, submission to authority. He's still and always was a Good Boy, a Harvard Professor, a rich man's boy.

"He made me feel...." "He told me...." "He showed me...." "he knew me..." "He changed me..." self delusion. He, He, He...

The reason your guru felt, to you, like your "greater you" is because it WAS your greater you, silly! You never saw the man you adored; you used him as a mirror to admire yourself! THAT's why you didn't cry, as others did, when he died! THAT's why you feel he never left!

You can't lose what you never had. And you never had him. You masturbated to your reflection in his eyes. You still "feel him" because you always and only felt yourself.

WEEKS of dropping acid, prancing in the grass by sunlight and torchlight? Years of dancing to your own twinkling?

You're a Good Boy; everybody likes you. "You make them feel..." etc.

Talking about your car, surrounded by your stuff, obedient to your acupuncturist, whom I watched overextend your atrophied leg, as you said, "he should know; he's the doctor." Good Boy!

All my life, people have called me a failure because I can't, or won't, submit to authority.

Why should I submit to a Good Boy? Why should I submit to a drug, designed by the military as a weapon? Why should I submit to an incompetent malpracticer? Why should I submit to the Book of the Month Club? Why should I submit to others, just as damaged, traumatized, neurotic, bogus and blind as I am, just because THEY say they're authorities???


Because you're a Good Boy.

Now, while you stroke yourself with your stroke, you use even that as a prop in your self delusion, your magic act for your lemming devotees. Good Boy!

"I've been stroked," you say.

You stroked yourself, buddy.

Decades of self indulgence, self delusion, self egrandizement, self stroking.

What caused the blockage in your brain? What caused a bleeder? What caused the stroke, professor?

You're a Harvard psychologist; you were on the tenure track; you were a Good Boy. You know the physiological causes of strokes.

Why are you pretending you don't? Is it because you KNOW you stroked yourself? Even as you babble with your ghost writer/editor that your GURU stroked you?! You're blaming him?

Why not? You've placed responsibility for your life outside your life, all your life.

Maharaji was a fakir. He was a good magician. He was a good teacher. If you'd listened.

Maybe you did listen; maybe that's why your father's golf course was full of prancing orphans in paisley.

Hey, a guy's gotta eat.

Good Boy!

Maharaji told you something. I don't think you heard him. He told you to serve people and feed people.

I haven't heard you mention doing either of those these past, forty years.

You'll die as you've lived: placing responsibility for your life outside yourself, laying it on some Authority.

Hell, even as you stroked, you weren't conscious that you were dying! You just let yourself be distracted, even at that!

Trust you? I wouldn't even want to sit next to you on a bus bench!

You've learned nothing. You know nothing. You have nothing. You do nothing. You don't serve. You don't feed.

You're a patchoulli-scented Hallmark greeting card.

You stroke yourself.

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