Byuro!
ever notice how Comedy leads to enlightenment?
ever notice how observational comedy about said comedy requires the Comic attend to their own modulating consciousness—
so if performed with earnestness, results in enlightenment?
notice that?
what is it with riding w/ perfect Attention every crest & trough of Attention's waveform unto Serenity unceasing?
what is it with that?!
the Four Noble Sights summed to One
the Four Noble Sights could be summed into One:
he’s strolling down the road and sees a sick, old sannyasin die, DONE.
faster, please, Buddhism!
Byuro!
The Office and the Cold War: knowing that you know them both, my joke may be brief. seven more seasons of Byuro! i quip, and trust you get a docu-style sitcom, a Second-World knock-off—i trust you’ll fill in details of a small provincial Agency.
i maybe get away with a one-word version—timed with a leap from my prison caf stool to bray:
Byuro!
When Life Encountered Strife—we'll sum it witty
prison, cuz we're in the Joke of oldtimers joking in a code they’ve settled into: from a Master List of all known jokes, you name a number. Seven-seventy-six you quip, and all laff & slap the lap: that one, it gets me every time, yep. it’s a shorthand allowed by our common social history, by a common store of lore in the prison’s high bookshelves, and life before we came here, our pre-prison street selves.
Heaven is the after-world, the far shore o’ Liffey and the chatter may curtail there, it may seem rude & curt at first—may even seem a Muni-like silence, an austerity, remote from Life's Fair. there, all our stories may condense into an epigram: the time we went to war, When Life Encountered Strife—we'll sum it in a witty-tight lamento or a facial state, a bent of Elder’s head in the sempiternal light, in the everlong Twilight—
a glowy line of jaw around the Buddha-bear enshadowed—
mistaken for despair by you, the freshly-dead Neophyte.