Archive for the ‘Religion’ Category
Winston and John the Savage Get Religous
17th April 2008 | 5:07
Winston and John the Savage were pseudonyms used in a series of features featuring myself (Winston, text bolded) and a friend (John) where we did things that could potentially get us in trouble if identified. Only two were written before I became Design Editor, though ideas for future installments included Get Homeless and Get Rich. In this, the second of our articles, we lived each day as a different religion for a week.
Beep. Beep. Beep. 7 o’clock and I definitely don’t want to wake from my ignorance. “Oh my god,” I think, for the last blasphemous time this week, “What is it with religion and dawn?” Stumbling out of bed to light the incense, I burn my hand and know that I truly am suffering. Lotus, unfeasibly adopted, I imagine myself atop a mountainous precipice, my inner Buddhist sat cross-legged and Zen, my external Self, the blizzard blowing all around. Combining the two sides of my personality is impossible; the gale won’t be contained. I txt Wnstn, ‘Noble Truth Lvl 3. My suffering has ceased.’ As I sit cross-legged, meditating with Winston at lunch, I contemplate that thinking about nothing requires a lot of concentration. I find sitting on the floor of the chaplain’s office to be surprisingly comfortable, Winston less so.
What a glorious day to wake as a Buddhist! Self-improvement no longer a distant concept, inner peace begins now! The last two years a chemical assault, and now sex is something you do with yourself. Vrrhhmm, 1 New Msg. ‘Fuck how did you get the EXP? I’m haemorrhaging lvls today, Buddha would not be proud,’ I reply, prompting a reminder about swearing. Lunch, a heavenly bacon and sausage baguette sits in front of me, uneaten. “No meat,” John says. I hand it to Fran, the vegetarian, and sip on my pint of lemonade, hardly the beer I was longing for. I’d have felt embarrassed with it and jealous without, but Buddhism didn’t subscribe to such petty emotions. Perhaps meditation was the answer? Awkwardly becoming a lotus, breathing in time, humming and chanting; “Why are we here and where are we going? Why are we here and where are we going?” Not getting anything, I turned to distract John off his mountain Zen. Too late. “I was praying for a fart,” he grins. Buddha would be proud.
