“Joshu Sasaki, 107, Tainted Zen Master” read the Times obit (NYT, 8/4/14) Prostitution may
be the world’s oldest profession, but Sasaki’s fall from grace is one of the
occupational challenges of all those who choose to profess. Nothing new about teachers hitting on students. The Times cited Harold D. Roth,
professor of religious studies at Brown, in his defense. “Everything he did was
in the devoted service of awakening enlightenment in his students,” Roth is quoted
as saying. “Com’on baby light my fire,” sing The Doors and
according to the obit “former students…said he would tell them that sexual
contact with a Zen master, or roshi, like him would help them attain new levels
of ‘non-attachment,’ one of Zen’s central objectives.” Well at least Sasaki himself benefited and if the form of enlightenment he preached proved shallow to his former students, that great come-on could have been nothing less than enlightening for future generations
of sexual predators for whom the mantra of non-attachment provided one of the
best lines in the business. Parenthetically Sasaki might have found employment as a guru during the heyday of Sullivanian psychoanalysis where polygamy was the therapeutic intervention du jour. It’s funny how great discoveries come about.
Alexander Fleming produced penicillin by accident. Viagra was originally a heart
medication (“Discovered by Accident, Viagra Still Popular 10 Years Later, “ Fox News, 3/24/08) It was revealed as a treatment for ED when patients, who
were given it, began to get hard-ons. Sasaki may have lost his
credibility as a Zen master. However, he inadvertently was following the path of
Frank Harris who wrote My Life and Loves. Sasaki may end up going down in history as one of the great philanderers. He didn’t lead his conquests to satori but he provided
momentary enlightenment to those whose minds he chose to blow.
Showing posts with label My Life and Loves. Show all posts
Showing posts with label My Life and Loves. Show all posts
Wednesday, August 20, 2014
Monday, August 26, 2013
Fame Shark
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| photo: Amanda Segur Royal Young’s Fame Shark should really be called Fame Piranha since it describes the sensibility of an omnivore and polymath who is plainly intent on gobbling up reality. Even though it’s a memoir Fame Shark reads like an old fashioned bildungsroman and aficionados of Yiddishkeit will appreciate the comparison between the Lower East Side that Young (aka Hasak Brozgold ) describes and the immigrant world of the Henry Roth classic Call It Sleep. Fame Shark is really American Psycho meets Call It Sleep with a little bit of Frank Harris’s My Live and Loves thrown in to the extent that it’s a no holds barred saga of the extremes a human being can go to in his or her quest for attention. Ultimately Fame Shark is a book about a life and Young’s is a life that has the precocity and audacity of a Shelley who also had a considerable amount of what euphemistically used to be called “experience” at a young age and the fearlessness of a Philippe Petit. |
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