In a way I hate to give him any publicity because really it-s all a diversion and the world would be far more interesting if we were all focused on cultivating our innermost nature instead -
Sadly though the reigns of power typically lie in the least worthy hands and this here personage is a classic case in point - So rather than enumerate and elucidate his innumerable crimes which most of you know about anyway I thought I-d draw his portrait instead - It ain-t brilliant I-ll admit - but I think I got one of his eyes right! The pointillist scarlet face seems to have been enhanced by the scanning process - makes him look kind of sick don-t it~
And if you don-t believe The Limpet strikes terror into Trump-s stunted psyche then why do you think he has never granted it a Press-Pass for the White House~ ~ ~
The state should be protecting the mentally ill - not using the police to kill them and the prisons to torture them in as they do in Florida and so many other states and nations around the world -
Anybody can suffer an emotional crisis and at least in the so-called more "civilized" world we supposedly have systems in place to help - protect and support the most vulnerable - those going through the frightening and traumatic experience of mental illness -
Anybody can go through a temporary or long-term period of confusion - pain and disorientation - perhaps to the level of psychosis which could include auditory or visual hallucinations - There are many causes for these types of crisis - Particularly in the developed Western world stress is so common as to be an almost universal disease - Suicide is the number-one killer of the 18 - 30 age-group in both Britain and the USA - To me this suggests a cultural sickness that affects societies - not just individuals -
In other words a healthy culture - a healthy socially-integrated life in a positive environment would not produce runaway suicide figures - let alone the other types of crime and distress that result from the dehumanization of our daily lives in the name of progress - modernity - security - money and material goods -
In these highly stressed conditions it is hardly surprising that so many people reach crisis-point - particularly with so many financial worries - austerity - lack of opportunity - bad-diet - vast social pressure to conform to somebody-s idea of a standard - all these and many other factors contribute to emotional crisis and when it comes it can often be a public incident - a public outburst - and this is where the police all too often get involved with tragically fatal results due to over-reaction to people who are not a genuine threat in many cases -
Having been writing about and campaigning on this issue for many years it is still deeply distressing to discover the extent to which people are dying when police intervene in what is commonly termed a mental-health crisis - All too often the police use over-kill tactics - particularly if the "suspect" or "patient" has picked up any kind of weapon - no matter how ineffective it might be - the police frequently shoot first - whether with taser or gun - and ask the questions afterwards -
My correspondence with the British Government over the issue of taser goes back to 2010 - Just recently the MP for North Norfolk stated that the UN regard taser-usage as potential torture - This is the first time I have heard of an MP making such a statement so it is very encouraging that someone in his position is listening to the UN - After all - we did draft the treaty against torture in the 80s so surely our nation should live up to the spirit and meaning of the convention -
With my own MP refusing to talk to me on this issue - despite a filmed promise to do so! - and the Chief Constable for Cornwall and Devon Police also failing to deliver a promised response on this issue - it is hard to have much faith in the credibility of the British democracy -
Help with depression - suicidal feelings and other problems: The Samaitans
If you have walked down the main street of any small town or big city in Britain you will have seen them - an army of displaced people - huddling in doorways - asking for money to survive - swaddled in sleeping-bags - trying to keep warm - these are the homeless - a phenomenon not limited to the streets of Britain - but rather to most of the so-called developed world - Why~ Haven-t hundreds of years of technological advancement been capable of putting roofs over the heads of our citizens~ Is one of this planet-s richest countries incapable of housing its own people~
Could it be that Britain is financially capable of housing us all and the true reason for homelessness is not only the gaping chasm of wealth-inequality but also the tragic inhuman fact that too many people simply do not care -
So as long as we have spiraling wealth-inequality combined with general lack of human compassion we can expect to see this army of displaced persons on every street in our nation - huddled in sleeping-bags and begging for change -
This is where our outmoded system of Capitalism has got us - Hundreds dying on England-s cold streets every winter as the rich glide past in their large warm automobiles choking the planet - and rather than challenge the wealthy or the holders of power - we have constant reports of people turning their frustration and anger against those least able to protect themselves - those with only a millimetre of nylon between their head and the boots of any thug who passes by - Attacks on the street-homeless are a tragic sign of just how sick some elements of society have become -
A much smaller class of displaced persons is the Rustic Homeless - those who choose to live secluded in nature rather than on the public streets - With the prevalence of dependency-issues among the street-homeless one of the reasons for being in town is to be close to a dispensing pharmacy - or other supplier of drugs including alcohol - Also in town there is the chance of acquiring money and having companionship - For these reasons the vast majority of homeless people choose the streets rather than nature -
However - for the small minority of Rustic Homeless the opportunities are many - Peace and quiet in nature-s beauty - Access to agricultural and wild food - the chance to live in hermetic peace in a beautiful spot in the country-side - It is a life-style that appeals to some - The main requirement is discretion and stealth - Camping is not generally encouraged in many wild country places so often your tenure is dependent on how well you can either defend your territory or preferably avoid discovery altogether! Attacks on rustic camps are also common - this is partly because many people pitch up in places that are habitually used by the public rather than going truly off-road and looking for some deep-cover - If you are intending to spend any protracted time in the country-side you will need to think strategically about how to cover your tracks - Either that or acquire permission to camp if you can get it!
Ultimately nobody should have to be considering any of these options but under Capitalism shelter itself is a commodity so if you want to keep warm and dry you need to offer up your soul to the money-beast -
Or put your efforts into fighting the Capitalist system -
Social Housing in Cornwall Click here to put yourself on the housing-list if you live in Cornwall - Other areas have similar schemes -
In some situations it is necessary to police the police as they sometimes break the law - This takes courage and is not easy - In holding rogue-police to account you lessen the chances of further brutality-offences in the future - Do not be afraid to film the police at any time - You-ll be doing the public a service!
I-d also like to take a moment to reflect on all those killed around the world by police-brutality in its many manifestations - to remember the dead at home and abroad and to encourage you all to work for the living by upholding justice whenever you have to - If we all wait for leaders we might have a very long wait!
From out of the mouth of the Caterpillar pours silk - From the mouth of the whale pours amber - from the lips of a tiger pours a roar that rounds the world to reach the ears of a faraway girl -
But in another land - in another time - in another realm of understanding - something else unfurls and shines its emanation -
The Caterpillar drools with relish contemplating the cultural exchange of expressions of human spirituality amongst the tribal peoples of central Asia and the Pacific Ocean - Stridulating with the iron-rigor of the crystal carapace the luminous lepidopteral lavae looms large afore me like a quilin come to roam the land in times of great auspicious happenings and mass luminary visionings - With quick and flicking movements of crisp rattling antennae the Primordial Lavae transmits suchforth lore and knowledge to the teeming world - ever-hungry for Mystery - Such is the fish that breams are made of and eye for one nose it - Myriad many-faceted jewel-like eyes of lepidopteral-wonderment shine bliss and bubbling humour through crystaline antennae via the quivering wavelength of psychic-Chi - The countless hands of the Carapaced-One hold quixotic angular and eliptical parchments - tablets and scrolls that hold more juice than all the rantings of the Babylon-media many-tentacled squid-monster - Subduing the babble of deluded dwarves from the City of the Somnambulists the Caterpillar calmly goes about his way - rippling with delight - blissful in reverie and resplendent in iridescent molecular regalia -
After years of training in a secret lokation in North East Tibet The Limpet returns to the West and goes underground to infiltrate Babylon-system and spread revolution and expose injustice -
Nature never went away - we did - Now it-s good to step back - step back into nature - It never went away - You did - your foreparents did - your fake-culture did - nature never did - still here -
Still dropping leaves in the forest and raindrops in the sea - Still unfolding the fern and shining the eye of the seer - Still mossing the wood and lichening the stone - Still stronging the bone and redding the blood - still coursing in the loins of lions - the heart - the brain - bringing the rain - bringing the surge -
Fresh breeze breathes leaves and flows - rustles greens and goes - something moving in the trees - something moving in the night - consciousness flickering to and fro - just the prana-wind that does blow -
If I-s a lizard in the spring I-d hear the cuckoo sing -
For some years now the elder eldritch lepidopteral lava had been crepuscular-flitting and transmitting the pieces of the Minoan Mosaic Culture to me via mystic meet-ups at the midnight phone-box in Pendoze – Behind the Hump-Me Dump-Me statue - In the heart of the old Jewish Market District – near the wharves where whalers rot unsung at rusty anchor and doubloons rattle in the silt and bilge underfoot – Katapliktikos was the Great Antennaed One as he quixotically and osmotically beamed soft luminous neon blue-white rays from his ancient centres of knowledge and shone them my way – Such was the power of the rays I was frequently stunned and on occasion rendered totally unconscious – only to come to some time later – slumped in the midnight phone-box – some time after midnight now of course and rain rattling on the carapace shell of the tiny glass hut - Never without the glow of celestial knowing do he leave me before going back to the myriad unravelling ways of the night and the mystic business of his thread-spinning and weaving kind - In tubular glass vials and philes of philtres he left chemicular imprints of significant finds in the realms of organic-structure and the nature of all things - On waxen cylinders he left strands of music in many forms and styles for a vast range of instrumental forces - Jars and pots and chests and boxes of scrolls and parchments he passed on and also glass slides and photographic images in many forms – Keys – cyphers – clues – lexicons and harbingers were left loaded – pointing the way to yet more doors to kick open and unleash the collected forces of many cultures and powers – many magical traditions and shamanic studies were included in the ken of the Caterpillar-s whirling feelers – his sentient all-embracing mind flowed over with cultural knowledge and inside nature knowledge like a mighty fountain that sprayed the pigeons that played at its splashing feet - Shedding the hasps and masks of identity and mortal conformity he re-emerged and re-appeared constantly in ever-slightly-changed forms – ever aetherial and elusive – ephemeral and insubstantial – more idea than flesh-body – more thought-form than sinew – this beast was composed of the very threads of mind-stuff and knew no such limits as ye or I do know – So to learn of lute and lyre and kindle Olympos-s fire in company with this great ephemeral creature was joy untold and over aeons did he the tale unfold – Ever holding in the folds of his robe a book – a telescope and a globe – therewith to scan the scene and scour the worldly-realme and surf upon the billows of the foamy deeps and bustle free and high among the puffy clouds of cumulus nimbus blue and aether and jazz on in the sunset-s gorgeous dripping scarlet purple honey of a sunset howldrehevel evening on old Kernouac Cornish cliff most high and gritty grained bulwark of Atlantek-s roaring shore - Zeibekiko he scratched with peculiar charm on the many-stringed lyre he clutched with several of his iridescent exoskeletal arms as he spun the melody in slow sedate largo nine eight shuffle – A noble rhythm for an eagle with wings outstretched or circling vulture high above the mountain-valleys looking for carcass with bead of an avine all-spying eye – Thus did he vouchsafe:
Melting myself constantly –
I dissolve into cocoon silk -
Then I spin again –
Afresh the tale unwinds –
You won-t unravel me by grasping at the thread -
This tale starts at the centre –
*
Winding country road – Many years ago – Leaves blowing from the trees – Yellow the light of the sun – Rain had been driving in sheets – Mellow the smell of the earth – Birds were returning to song – Scatter the light of the sun – Raindrops on dewdrops on grass – Bush-crickets running for shelter – ants sliding skilfully down their holes – Rabbits are running for cover – Thunder breaks dark clouds in two – dark covers over the sky – coolness fills into the air – breeze softly mumbles around – leaves stirs about on the ground – windy and starting to rain – drops big as coins hit the ground – Ears of the forest look round – eyes that have listened to the ground – Skin that has smelt all the ground – whiskers that twitch with the sound – listening the forest around – creatures are stirring in sound – breath coming out of the ground – badgers are mulling and brooding – snorting and snuffles and grunts – badger-breath sticky and hot – Fly hiding under the leaf – glistening radiant eye – shiny the carapace glows – thorax and feelers as one – Well the moving of the morning was unfolding and the waters of the ocean were all seething with scintillating light the waters dancing and all around the winds were softly singing and the hearts of countless people lifted upwards and the rain of light fell gently on the people and the laughter of the throngs was like an ocean and the dancing in the streets was like a heatwave and the singing went right through the flowing morning and the fires still burnt on by nightfall-s darkling and the sparrow and the starling were rejoicing and the ivy was entwining with the elder -
Print - Cut centre-slit - fold into your eight-page miniature edition of The Caterpillar Dub (This month-s edition features The Luminous Three - Sakyamuni Buddha - Quan Yin and Lao Tsu)
melting from the edges - the surface dissolves to leave only the radiant centre -
Street scenes of the everyday night – Phone-boxes of the
street-corner hook-up – Phones off the hook and hangs dangling by the wire –
Carriages rattle past oblivious to the pathos of the scene – Here-s where –
tendrils whirling – I have had the melting experiences of meeting the
Caterpillar – encountering the entity face to decapodic face – Katapliktkos and
simultaneously cataleptic this beast flowed with a natural rhythm that defied
artifice and nullified the bourgeois mind in one fell swoop - This Caterpillar was the repository of myriad
untold dreams from many creatures of many aeons and epochs of singular
collective popular and universal flow and human surge through time-s tapestried
halls and space-s unfathomable caverns – the
lucky beast! Well luck was with the
humans too as the gifts of caterpillactic knowledge culture and science would
soon be spread amongst – disseminated among and generally bestowed upon a
seething and pullulating species of monstrous dream-primate sometimes known as Homo sapiens sapiens – the thinking
man-s ape –
Dreading that forces unfavourable to the transmission of these
cultural treasures were at work – pitting their unwholesome strength into an
attempt to thwart the Caterpillar-s work – he reacted by spinning a cocoon of
activity – changing form and occilatory-rate – seeming to become more aethereal
yet palpably sentient and present – almost human
– no – much more than human – and so capable of seeing into the human heart
– the human body and blood – the endocrines and adrenalin – the biological
underlay that has such influence on the constitution and thus on the typical
thought-process – He could observe all these things with his sweeping –
scanning antennae and drink in the essence of any activity to which he was
exposed –
Plankton-papyri and ambergris archives were opened and
revealed by the hundred feet and the swirling papillae – namely the
psychic-antennae but fundamentally he would work by direct-communique – he
could talk straight into your mind – thus eliminating the need for the crude
semaphore of flapping lips and tongues – the monotonous music of the human
voice was obsolete and seemed unutterably primitive once he had established the
direct method and cut out the middle-man of verbal verbosity - Such things as happen in red public
phone-boxes at midnight in the main streets of Kernouac towns – namely in
Pendoze – a quiet little place by the sea where nothing much ever happens – a
cobbled hobgoblin hovel huddling high on ramparts of steel-slate pewter skies -
*
{For your mini Caterpillar chapbook simply print - fold and cut as previously instructed - a video will appear on this one day - meantime - if you-re stuck - ask your kids!}
*
Feel like I-m under water – like I-m in a trance and I can-t
wake up – My mind is blunt and I can-t wake up - Handel bludgeons me unconscious with his ancient formal-garden layouts - lead-lethargy is aemic and osseous - invading the body with its insidious weight - puling as gravity pulls and wrapping bladder-wrack around me ankles as I stumble and tumble in slumber I wander and seek and search and wonder still with head aloft unto the sky and to the stars my eye doth shine a twinkling reflection of all this - of all this -
All twinkled in the eye of a reflective movement like the birth - life and explosive death of a vast Universal System - a Tri-Chilocosm - a Maha-Loka - Births coming and going and exploding and popping like thoughts - The thoughts of an ant - The thoughts that fill the head that fills the aunt-s hat - The ant-s heart and the hart-s panting breath - Breathess entranced - the Arhat has no thoughts -
*
Inexhaustible realms of consciousness - States of mind - programmes - mental-worlds - mind-sets - beliefs - feelings - feelings - feelings - feel -
*
Death-s Little Imps come and tap you on the shoulder - Mini-deaths - deaths miniaturized and minisculed - death-hints delivered by the Imp Servants of the Skeleton Lord - A bony finger taps you on the clavicle - "You haven-t got forever you know - What do you think you-re doing ~ What do you think you-re doing~"
Phenomenal flow radiating through the tangible part of the universe - atomic poetry unravelling into molecular chemistry and cellular biological entity - Hallo human - please step forward - you-re on - It-s your show - You are the star - it-s yours - all yours - your world - take it - take it easy but take it - take it back to the source and shake it - take it to the shiny void - to the misty cloud - to the starry sky - take it away and sing it to life - offer it life and reflect on it -
Ravens and crows have plenty to say -
The last thing you need is more words in your head - but have some anyway - just in case you do - Anything is better than serious media - a squawking crow is a refreshing sound after you-ve enjoyed the sound of ten thousand fiddles steeped overnight in maple-syrup by demented goatherds - punctuated by the percussion of krogens - carapaces - cocoanuts - goat-skulls - tongueless bells and drums that don-t stick - The sound of falling earth is sweeter than any radio and the sea has more to say than ten million monkeys all chanting the words of Shakespeare - Chaucer and Dickens - So in the light of these revelations you can follow this trail back to the realm of the Caterpillar!
We interrupt normal programming to make way for the voice of the caterpillar - The Caterpillar Dub is the echo of the voice of The Caterpillar - Please listen to these dub-echoes and observe the fusion of struggle and song as a caterpillar nudges its way into the realm of the limpet - nature is a constant re-balancing and adjustment - sometimes with great fundamental upheavals - Who would ever have thought The Caterpillar would be allowed to muscle in on The Limpet with such audacious temerity! Mind you - Caterpillars do have over four thousand muscles - considerably more than you - oh puny human-thing! So unscrew your political head and replace it with the cloud of luminous fog that a poet thinks will pass for a head and head on into the realm of the super-gorwir Caterpillar Dub - Dub - Dub - Dub - Dub -
This goes out to The Ghost of Sid Vicious - forever leaning on the corner of Alexandra Road outside the Garden after the Sex Pistols played Penzance - Sid died at 21 - We must all die - even caterpillars have to wrap themselves in a cocoon of their own actions and melt into a fearless and featureless sludge - poor things! Some of these foolish caterpillars even like to comfort themselves with the illusion of reincarnation - Obviously just their egos that can-t handle the obvious fact of their own extinction - - - - bla bla bla - Anyway I-m locked out of The Caterpillar Blogspot so meantime and for the foreseeable alltime The Invertebrate Press will be using this here website for artistic and political purposes and you-ll simply have to accept the juxtaposition of the two different halves of my brain - I expect it will be great fun for us all so let-s just shut up and get on with enjoying it shall we ~ (Oh I don-t know what happened to Johnny-s ear but it didn-t look like that on the night!)
Global Awareness Month
– A Thirty-Day Telluric Contemplation
As you might know - I-ve been celebrating A Month Of Global Awareness by carrying the globe around with me everywhere in an "open-carry" style - The echoes of this global-dream leached out from my dreamy head into the dream-heads of others - The Month Of Global Awareness kicked off on 31st January - the night of the Blue Moon - with a concert at Redwing Gallery - and a few more clips from the show have surfaced - thanks to my pal Allan - Songs featured are Man Of Constant Sorrow (Traditional American) - White Man In The Hammersmith Palais by The Clash - Panic In Detroit by David Bowie and I-m Set Free by The Velvet Underground -
Meh - songs mainly failed to upload - probably just as well :-) might try again later! If not I-ll be singing them in the street when it hits about 68 fahrenheit - - - out to make a shilling -
Once the 45 quid jangly Les Paul Copy finally subsided into an erie silence and the Month of Global Awareness was launched good and proper - one of the main developments to come out of the experiment was in the realm of archaeology - Considering that the "open-carrying" of the gobe was an open-ended free-spirited free-form experiment - almost devoid of plan altogether it-s significant to me that the main event of the month was the discovery of The Druid-s Throne (or rather perhaps it-s rediscovery!) and a wonderful menhir (longstone) I discovered two days ago on 24th February 2018 - My daughter has named it The Menhir Of The Setting Sun - Check the previous issue of The Caterpillar which you can see on The Temporary Realm Of The Caterpillar Page on this very site!
Here-s a tiny clip of some menhirs above Madron - from autumn 2017: Boswarva Carn Settlement Madron Kernow Britain
http://yecaterpillar.blogspot.co.uk/2017/11/boswarva-carn-settlement-madron-kernow-britain.html More on Boswarva here -
The World Ends At St-Just A Lesson In Basic Awareness - 1) Remember - It gets quite windy up west - so - - -
Globey slunk off to a phone-box after that to seek legal advice!
The Atomic Wind captured by the Impressionist Camera
Union of Consciousness and Matter - a moment of awareness -
Great Uncle Ingolf as Hamlet contemplating the skull of Yoric - Alas! Death Comes Without Warning! For I am Death - None can excell - I-ll open the doors to heaven or hell - - -
They-ve landed!
It begins - - -
With Bronze-Age menhir on an ancient track from Carn Bosavern to Koth Valley -
At the Koth Valley (aka Mastadon Central UK)
At The Druid-s Throne 24:2:2018 - Awarth idhyowek menhir yw
In the picture above the globe sits atop what I suspected to be a fallen menhir - just above The Druid-s Throne (See previous issue of The Caterpillar) - The globe wears a garland of Sticky Weed - proof of The Return Of The Spring -
Here we see the menhir half-clothed in a skirt of ivy
Starting to show through - This prehistoric beauty stood here around fifteen hundred years before Jesus was born - - -
Forgive the ten-year-off date-stamp - One day I-ll figure out how to get rid of it! I didn-t want to trim down the picture and snip the nose of this fine megalith - We are looking at the base - It tapers up towards the far end very gracefully - The illuminated face which lies towards the setting sun is completely flat - in contrast to the gentle and typical curvature of its obverse side - The piece also features the characteristic rising and falling cracks featured on so many of these objects - This one also has groovings that would run parallel to the ground when the stone was planted - Overall length: something over eight feet - Weight: Heavy -
It-s All Over Now Baby Blue – 13th Floor Elevators
I-m Set Free – Velvet Underground
I was born in Texas - Raised in Tennessee - If you don-t like my peaches - Don-t rattle my tree - Brilliant Adventure – David Bowie
The Rigpa organization needs to deal honestly with the problem of the abusive character who founded it. Sogyal aka Rinpoche is a violent and sexually abusive man who used his unique position of power to manipulate countless people, cynically exploiting and bullying his way through a life-long career of greed and indulgence - and watching endless television - whilst ostensibly operating as a spiritual teacher. Since all my attempts to get Rigpa Org to even talk to me about this grave problem have been ignored, I am staging a one-day Hunger-Strike to coincide with Rigpa UK's one day retreat - THE HEART OF COMPASSION - Read more in The Limpet...
Another plea for dialogue in the controversy over the abuses of Buddhist Lama (teacher) Sogyal aka Rinpoche - This time I address Corinne and Dan Ewen who are holding a retreat under the Rigpa banner in Lewes - Sussex - UK- I ask them to respond to me and also threaten imminent industrial action if they do not - Two days to find out what happens folks!
Open Letter To:
Corinne Ewen and Dan Ewen – Rigpa UK Registered Charity – South Downs
Group – Leaders of Rigpa Mini-Retreat Day:
The Heart Of Compassion – 10th February 2018 – Linklater Pavilion
– Lewes – Sussex – Great Britain –
Dear Corinne and Dan – Namaste! Date:
8:2:2018
Re:
ZERO-TOLERANCE
OF ABUSE IN BUDDHISM
As you may possibly know I have been attempting dialogue
with various involved parties in the controversy surrounding the decades of
physical – sexual – psychological – spiritual – financial and other forms of
abuse and exploitation perpetrated by Sonam Lakar aka Sogyal aka Rinpoche etc
etc – My interest in this case – as a thirty-year student of Sogyal and
coincidentally also a human rights activist – is a sincere interest in what is
best for the people who have come into contact with Sogyal in the past –
present and future as well as a deep concern for what is best for the Holy
Dharma –
I have published several articles on this topic which
have been read by thousands of people in every continent except Antarctica - and
tried reaching out to various people including Sogyal – Dzongsar Khyentse
Rinpoche – Patrick Gaffney – Rigpa London Vision Board – etc etc with only
dukkha for my reward – no response from anyone!
I wrote a letter to all teachers scheduled to
teach under the auspices of Rigpa London in which I reasoned with the teachers
that they should publicly declare for ZERO-TOLERANCE OF ABUSE IN BUDDHISM –
Please see the link attached to this to clarify my position towards Rigpa
London-s teachers - I am asking the
staff at Rigpa London to forward this to you and trusting that they will please
do so – as I have previously asked them to forward my messages to the people they
work for which seems only reasonable -
Even Patrick Gaffney who knew me personally from
thirty years ago is trying to blank me and I have been chucked out of the What
Next Rigpa discussion group on fb without justification – I set up the RIGPA FREE SPEECH UNION a while back - in the event of such shenanigans –
The other day a Tibetan Lama taught at Rigpa
London – I received no message or reaction about my abuse-question that I have
posed these teachers – They seem to be just carrying on like it-s business as
usual and nothing evil and sick has happened! I did not take the industrial action that I
had threatened because frankly I was not organized enough – that is the only
reason –
I must continue to apply pressure to Rigpa
London until they start to at least talk to me and deal with the points I have
repeatedly put to them – I speak as someone who wants Buddhist centres in the
West to be safe refuges of true Dharma where the spiritually hungry (a
particularly vulnerable social group) can pursue the path of truth and kindness
without fear of predation and exploitation –
Furthermore it is screamingly obvious to me that
in a situation such as this it is in the best interests of the Dharma that
Rigpa International in all its branches and organs has a very sincere public
reaction to this whole abuse-issue – The secular public do not want another
vaguely sinister foreign religion springing up – but I am sure the public do welcome genuine Buddhism as a
commonly-perceived force for good – Let-s try and keep it that way for all of
our sakes! Only clean Dharma will be
welcome in the West – It is only reasonable to expect Dharma-standards of
conduct to at the very least respect ethical standards of western countries –
let alone respecting their own sacred code!
Dear Corrine and Dan I am asking you sincerely
to read my letter to teachers visiting Rigpa London and respond urgently to the
three main points – I see that on the publicity on the website for the retreat
you say how long you have studied with Sogyal (since 98) but make no mention of
his disgusting history of crime – Will you please respond very urgently to me
on this – before the retreat please – otherwise I promise to you now that I
will start industrial action on the day of the retreat – Saturday 10th
February 2018 – and continue it on every day that someone teaches at Rigpa
London without dealing with the issues I have publicly raised concerning the
sexual and physical abuses of Sogyal aka Rinpoche –
Needless to say I will be seeking maximum
publicity for my Ahimsa-inspired protest at the hypocrisy within Buddhism that
seeks to conceal - collude and collaborate with those who dare to fuck with our
human rights –
Please respond to me as a brother in the Dharma –
I mean what I say – Please talk to me –
I'm Jeremy Schanche, British artist and activist. This blog features my paper, The Limpet. Here I write about human rights, the environment and politics. Please see my articles about Harold Hempstead and Florida Department of Corrections, with more at Harold Hempstead Caged Crusader Wordpress.com.
I have another blog that's completely different - it's where you'll find The Caterpillar, a journal of collage, poetry and surrealism that is remixed as The Caterpillar Dub - the world's first Dub newspaper. Both of these can be found at:
http://yecaterpillar.blogspot.com.
In October 2024 I published my first paperback book of fiction - The Horned Whale or An Morvil Kornek by Jeremy Schanche - available at various bookshops and at Amazon.
ISBN: 9780993490903.
175,710 words.
£15.
Contains the mystery novel - The Kramvil, plus two novellas, poetry and glossaries.
