Cow Te Ching
Selected Verses
from
THE COW TE CHING
(The Cow and its Characteristics)
by
The Zen Masters Kevin Solway & David Quinn
Copyright © 1995-2001
The Cow that can be told is not the eternal Cow.
The Woman that can be named is not the eternal Woman.
Man is the Creator of ten thousand things.
Woman is the beginning of hell on earth.
Ever desireless, one can see the truth.
Ever desiring, there is only appearance.
These two differ in name, and are forever opposed; this appears as darkness.
The gate to all knowledge.
-etc
posted by Indigobusiness @ Saturday, August 29, 2009
22 Comments
22 Comments:
Kevin has quite a convincing beard.
Baaa ram ewe baaa ram ewe, to your fleece your breed, your clan be true baaa ram ewe.
That'll do pig.
All my friends are animals, fish, birds, reptiles too. I chat to them every day, not forgetting people.
Know me fridge-off claptrap, an' me dickie brahms.
For the love of god I could not find a picture of Kevin.
Are we chattin' the real deal masters or just two guys trying to stop everyone from chattin' shit?
Safe dudes,
Z
You can view your cobber Kevin here, Zoro.
let me put my tongue back in my cheek (and chew my cud contently!!) LOL! I crack myself up....
"When a cow laughs, does milk come out her nose? "
Ahhhhhhhhhahhaaaaaaaha...You crack me up, too JC.
Twit- Here's how Zoro's "cobber" (whatever the hell that means)
sees it:
It depends on how you define "God". If "God" is defined to mean the same as Nature, or "the All", then God definitely exists. This would be a pantheistic God. and would not be a conscious, intelligent being.
Which seems rather presumptuous and limiting of consciousness and intelligence, and hardly a pantheistic determinator.
aming
For my money, the Tao might be the best route people or their rulers have to 'sensing' the sexiest full on judgement calls we need to survive. Why is it so fucking hard to follow the path with a heart that many creeds call their own and that some refer to as Tao? Yesterday some palsied bloggers I came across, full of his holy spirit were chatting and praying for fucks sake about 'missionary work in eastern europe,' Sounds more like a coachload of swingers goin' down down, deeper and down...
The crack is, closer we get to awakening, the more 'time sits aloft, old sayings reply.' No such thing as one size fits all 'Nirvana' Each of your hundreds of truths and prior awakenings are like those jolly old signposts totally dodgey in the hands of a psychotic person. Treat the whole lot like a metaphor. That's as far as it goes, only that a bit longer up the greasy pole waits symbolism-I use symbolism in my pretty sketchy healing way with clients. They never notice and I can't proove anything. All for the best thinks I.
Z.
"Enlightenment...don't know what it is."
-Van Morrison
Had it once, it slipped away. Had it twice, I knew what it was. On the third occasion, I came to know its smell. I knew I wanted it and I knew it was unknowable. I believed in the existence of multiple tiers of awakening. Like a small bird that met in my garden singing, I prayed not to hear too loud nor approach with false deference.
Z.
Couldn't disagree more, with all you've said, except for the bird.
Which 'bird' was that, asshole?
I'm a bit worried you take me seriously - next time without the subtitles?
Z.
You can't be serious?
I hope the fuck not.
Z.
These are my favourite muzzles: horses, dogs and cows. Cows are the wettest, horses are lush. Me and my dog Jack, we fight with his mouth and sharp teeth. Animals are cool and we chat like no-one is listening. The real chatterboxes are the birds, the whole fuckin' sub-human world and people too if I choose, lead me through the paths of righteousness, Jesus got the leaner cuts he was still a little short of a picnic, everyone seemed a bit pointless then from our elevated viewpoint in 2009. The second coming? Only if Mary beats hard the meat of the lord. Check out God the wanker, the son of a bitch and the holy single malt. I'm well fucked by now but fully committed to pissing off the jerks who do battle around our planet. Young man, what remains of queen and country when your leg is amputated above the knee? You say you have served god and country. Can't argue with that, 'cept me, joe bloggs never asked you to lose your leg, shouldn't put yourself in the firing line, your choice, your leg. How many generals and politicians have lost even a finger nail?
Z.
It's a pisser for sure, lot's of blame to go around. Careful with that axe, Eugene.
Someday I'll tell you about a mockingbird I once knew, went apeshit whenever it got a glimpse of me. Funny as all get out.
There used to be an osprey that would shriek at me from his perch across the river whenever he saw me go outside. Onetime he circled above me as I pruned a tree. Watched me for a good long while, like he was supervising or something.
Birds are cool. People too, sometimes. It's too bad some have managed to twist the planet into a Gordian knot and hung it out to dry.
I used to think we had a chance to join force and save our bacon, I realize now that was wishful thinking.
Jus' me takin' the piss like a jerk. It was harsh on account of the war veterans and the much loved holy trinity, that I needed to get over a long time ago. It pleases me to blaspheme due to having 2 parents totally members of the god squad, forcing me to chapel decades ago. Can see that a mile away.
And birds - nice to hear the mocking bird and osprey stories. I have got a lovebird we call Rainbow, who always gets involved with me if he is offering a tao message that I failed to pick up myself.
It's mad to watch closely a seagull or pigeon flying about 40 feet above the cars right down the middle of the road. How do they do it? I can see whats below with their eyes.
Birds are cool.
Z.
Outrage is warranted, when well aimed.
Reading my last comment, I can't help wondering why I misplaced the apostrophe in lot's. Perhaps I should've capitalized the L? Lot's. Lot's lot, perhaps. I'm beginning to envy pillars of salt. And birds.
I had a lovebird once, but my favorite was a little half-moon parrot that would wake me up every morning with a stream-of-conscious litany of phrases and snippets from radio and tv. I would be angry at first, then dissolve laughing as the context took form in meaningful nonsense and hilarious birdly emotion.
I really miss that guy.
There, there dear Indi, when you said half moon I thought that I would hear a story about a mooning parrot, bit like a streaking pig.
Z.
Sometimes I really hate the way I say things in print, but you get my drift.
I didn't used to sound this way. What the hell happened?
Yeh - I'll always sound geekish somehow, you used to outclass me hand over fist, you still do. I will forever give away my goodwill, you must believe, I am not necessarily up to your pain, but I know a lot about pain, shed loads of pain. Why not revisit The Prophet?
Z.
Good idea.
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