Happy New Year, with caveats

 

Happy New Year!  (To anyone who possibly might ever access this obscure monthly blog.) 

2020 was a crazy year in so many ways, but maybe we can, eventually, recover from it – because humanity has proven remarkably resilient through time, with the West surviving the profoundly stupid and irrational medieval Dark Ages that followed the collapse of ancient Classical Civilization and then reigniting and carrying the torch of Reason and Liberty through to our own times.  Human history, in overall sum, is a magnificent success story.  As a cynical optimist, I do see light ahead. 

I probably won’t see, within my own lifetime, radical Individual Freedom, and the strict limitation of any coercive power by governments, restored to the levels that America’s Founders (mostly) intended, but I am confident that later generations will discover it again.  Young people are always the shining hope.  History, for all its many disappointing regressions, implies that rationality often can gain the upper hand against ignorant superstition, emotional impulses toward surrender to tyrannical statist controls, and against the idea that some of us have the (fatal) conceit that we can dictate what others can do, peacefully, with our lives, liberty, pursuits of happiness, and with our justly acquired property. 

And America has regressed, egregiously.  For over a century and a half, civil and economic liberties have been violated by populist-demanded government decree. 

(Socialism, whether strict Marxist or of the “democratic” flavor, is not the main threat, since pure economic socialism demonstrably impoverishes all the citizenry except for the government elite.  E.g., think, Venezuela, Cuba, North Korea, the former USSR, Africa, etc.  It is economic idiocy and always crashes.  “Social ownership” of the means of production – outside of small cooperative ownership arrangements by consenting individuals within a free enterprise environment – almost always means government ownership.  And government control of the economic “means of production” has never worked.  But letting free individuals make their own economic decisions, under a rule of law, encourages cooperation, innovation, and such increased productivity that it raises the masses out of crushing poverty, and Marx even admitted this in The Communist Manifesto.  This is what history demonstrates.  “Counter examples” such as Sweden, are not valid, since Sweden realized their mistake, reversed course, and abandoned socialism; Sweden is now a predominately Free Market economy, albeit with heavy welfare-state tax burdens; they allow individuals to own the means of production and to freely trade with one another.) 

America’s regression from free market individualism for the last century has not been “socialism” per se.  It is a sub-species of socialism more accurately called “Fascism”.  (And I see Fascism, in its essence, as both a right-wing and left-wing ideology.)  Mussolini, a renowned Marxist in his youth, saw the failures of pure socialism (and its sub-species, Communism in Russia).  He saw that “social ownership” fails.  He drew upon his reading of the one hugely successful economy, that of the USA.  He studied the American Pragmatist philosophers, who said to disregard theoretical principles and just go with “what works”.  He saw that American capitalism worked, creating vast economic improvement for the entire society, especially including the working classes.  He also read and admired the American “Progressive” intellectuals and their (regressive) advocacy of greater government control over the stupid masses. 

(Interlude:  Why do I say that the American Progressive movement of a century ago was actually a “regressive” movement?  Woodrow Wilson had complete contempt for the US Constitution’s limitations on government power.  His, and other Progressives’, racism was evident, e.g., in America but also on their despising and blocking foreign immigrants.  Eugenics, coercively controlling individuals’ reproduction because they didn’t like their cultural presence.  War lust – leading Wilsonian Progressive Herbert Croly, in The New Republic (1917) urged the entry into the insane meatgrinder of WWI, because, “America needs the tonic of a serious moral adventure.” WTF?   Prohibition of alcohol – and the start of the War on Drugs, an outrageous act of puritan nanny state hubris that still unjustly criminalizes millions of Americans for peaceful, free enterprise individualistic activity.  The Income Tax, which countless Supreme Court decisions earlier had seen as unconstitutional; yet the Progressives got an Amendment passed.  The major sin of the Progressives was that they were elitists who thought they had both the wisdom and the right to legislate over the rest of us common folk and make us fall into line because it was for “our own good”, whether we knew it or not.  The obscene hubris of those who crave government powers.  The Progressives’ program of the seizure of immense government coercive power was actually raw Fascism, even as Mussolini was codifying it with a name.  Mussolini, before war broke out between the US and Italy, publicly admired FDR’s New Deal programs, writing that Roosevelt was “a good social-fascist.”) 

Re:  Is it socialism or is it fascism?  Before WW2, when Hitler had gained complete control of Germany, a European socialist journalist interviewed Hitler.  He asked (and I paraphrase): “You call yourselves National Socialists [NAZI], yet you have not socialized/ nationalized private property or industries under government control (social ownership).  How can you still call yourselves socialist?”  Hitler replied: “We don’t need to nationalize/ socialize private property under social ownership.  We have nationalized-socialized the people, therefore control of their property just follows naturally.”  Fascism is just a more “practical” species of socialism that allows its serfs to produce more by their pretended ownership and free agency, while the governing elite still expropriates their product. 

Thus, the relative economic successes of socialist regimes who have gone over to Mussolini’s model of social-fascism:  e.g., the People’s Republic of China, whose “social ownership” ideal of Marxian socialism still maintains their grotesque one-party dictatorship grip on everyone, while at the same time being “pragmatic” by learning from Hong Kong’s spectacular economic success when being by far the most free-enterprise economy in the world for a brief time.  Red China allows people to (nominally) own, to hugely produce and to profit (to a degree), and their economy has ballooned spectacularly.  But not so much their civil liberties, since they are still under the socialist “social ownership” principle.  Individuals there do not own themselves.  The government is the ultimate social owner. 

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In other news:  Thailand has recently suffered a significant Second Wave of Covid infections, after many months of remarkably holding the line on increases.  A nation with a population size comparable to the UK, we have only had 61 Covid deaths this entire year, and our hospitals are never overly busy.  We wear masks and follow medical advice.  The most recent Covid death was the first here in two months. 

This Second Wave has mainly been from people coming into Thailand.  When they come legally, they are put into a two-week quarantine with testing before being let loose.  But many others sneak across borders.  Legal migrant workers are often crammed together in unsanitary lodgings.  The two biggest centers of infection this month were among Burmese migrant workers in a seafood processing center and other Thais in an illegal gambling den. 

The virus has spread quickly, and we are expecting the government to have drastic restrictions return on any group activities, as they did last spring.  Time to stock up on necessities and hunker down.  Dukkha – the shit just keeps raining down – such is life. 

Happy New Year to all, nonetheless. 

-Zenwind. 

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Wearing Down, Yet Looking Up

 

Everything in this world tends to wear out over time.  Being finite is the rule.  Indeed, the Earth itself is in an inexorable trend to wear out – or at least to “wear down”, as the science of geology makes clear, that discipline of Deep Time.  Erosion ages the mountain ranges and washes them to the sea. 

My own physical strength, for one, has been slowly wearing out and eroding – as I’m sure yours has been (or one day will, for you relatively youngsters).  It’s the Sisyphus task, that endless uphill battle. 

Exercise helps delay the physical decay, but for many of us who are aging we tend to focus much more of our time on intellectual concerns – rigorous personal philosophical-ethical audits, checking our premises, and honest summings-up of a long eventful lifetime, with a view to learn from our vast repertoire of experiences and mistakes, and thus apply our reason to best enjoy whatever life span remains to us. 

Like the prayer of Moses in Psalm 90:  “Teach us to number our days, so that we may get a heart of wisdom.” 

My eyesight is changing quite radically, deteriorating.  Part of it is a developing cataract in one eye, but the rest of it is most likely the process of aging.  I have worn eyeglasses for distant vision since childhood.  When I was about 48 years old, I needed bifocal glasses for close-vision reading.  Now, at 70, I cannot read or focus on anything close with my bifocals, and this is probably another age-related change.  It is hard to see distance, too, so I could probably never get a driver’s license again unless a major correction. 

Yet – Looking up:

In recent days I took advantage of a rare day of low toxic air pollution (PM2.5) in the area and did a very long march hauling groceries, exercise I needed.  Today, I resumed my lifting routine with my dumbbells.  When I pace myself carefully ("numbering my days"), I can avoid injuries and build up strength (and perhaps get a “heart of wisdom” in the bargain).  Ain’t giving up. 

I am a hermit, and I relish the quiet peaceful time I still get to read and think.  As a secular Buddhist, the First Discourse’s Four Tasks are about all I need for the simple practice of serenity.  The life of the mind. 

I have a wonderful wife, who somehow puts up with my eccentric ways.  I have a close extended family in America, as well as friends and former students there, that I still correspond with.  I have great expat friends here.  I think I am as blessed and contented as Epicurus was, retired in his Garden in ancient Athens. 

A lifetime of learning – and of hard lessons – and many great and wonderful experiences.  Great memories, such as my climbing adventures (which I still often relive in dreams at night, e.g., cresting a summit ridge), past lovers, books read, intellectual comrades, and all the many interesting folks I’ve crossed paths with.  Great past; great present; great future. 

I am looking forward to many more decades of such an incredible life, even as Time is intent on wearing me down. 

-Zenwind. 

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Yule-Midwinter Solstice Trek

 

Today was about as cool and comfortable as it ever gets here in the Central Plains.  The sun is warm but the wind is cool in the shade.  Low dewpoint and dawn temp in the 60s*F.  Like a fine summer day in Sugar Grove.  The air quality index (for PM-2.5 pollution) was the lowest in weeks.  All this signaled a chance to take a long walk in the neighborhood (with an N95 mask). 

I woke up at around 03:00 feeling cold.  I turned off the fan, but my bare feet were still cold, so I put a light blanket over my feet and legs – something I haven’t done in years. 

The most dreaded task of the morning was my shower.  Our house has never had hot water, so our water is whatever temp the environment is.  That is never much of a problem, usually.  Today, it was incredibly cold, by our standards.  Our veranda shower is outdoors, so that the cool morning wind really increased the effect of the cold water. 

Once I was bathed and stopped shivering, I ventured out on errands.  One, buy cat litter.  Two, get needed things at the pharmacy.  In all, it added up to quite a long bit of marching, more exercise than I had done in a long time because of the usual toxic PM-2.5 smog.  At first, I felt weak while walking, which was alarming and did not enhance my Zen.  But after a few kilometers, I got into my usual stride and really stepped out, feeling good. 

A curious thing about this midwinter solstice time of year:  the sun is at an odd angle I am usually not used to.  It produces a strong glare, even with sunglasses on.  Wearing a hat with a large brim, along with sunglasses, helps. 

The minutes and hours of daylight will now start increasing.  Rebirth of the Sun.  Happy Yuletide to all. 

-Zenwind. 

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Fitness Decline

 

My physical fitness is again hitting an annual low during this Cool Season, a season that normally would, in years past, encourage optimal outdoor exercise but which is now impossible due to the recent seasonal toxic air pollution (PM-2.5).  Farmers illegally burn their rice stalks and cane, foully polluting the air with lung-damaging shit, and no one can remedy this because farmers are a major democratic voting bloc.  (And because politicians are all whores, they sell their favors of power and law to the most voters.)  Add to this smoke the diesel fumes of a huge city and the fact that no wind blows it all away. 

Greater Bangkok’s air is rated “Very Unhealthy” for all groups of people.  We have all been wearing masks because of the Covid-19 pandemic for a long time, but I wear a mask these days mainly to protect my lungs whenever venturing outside. 

I foresaw this and did a short trial membership in a Bangkok gym, one that has a good balance of having one of the best indoor climbing walls around plus treadmills and weight rooms.  Yet the commuting time – one hour each way – and the difficulty I have on the climbing wall all make it impractical for me.  (I am 70 years old and haven’t climbed in 15 years, plus my old climbing styles were friction and crack climbing, not the strictly face-climb “sport” routes on these indoor walls.)  

The commute itself was exhausting.  Take the subway; then connect with the elevated Skytrain system; then connect with the gym’s small hourly shuttle bus schedule.  The unkindest cut of all was waiting outside an upscale mall for the shuttle, where they loudly played Christmas music – and not even good renditions of that dread genre.  That in itself seriously disrupted my Zen. 

I may someday build up enough arm strength to go back to indoor climbing walls in the various gyms in the city.  Maybe.  But now I must work with my dumbbell weights at home.  And I must utilize my home treadmill more – while wearing an N95 mask because our house is not sealed well at all against the toxic pollution.  It is Sisyphus, forever laboring to muscle his huge rock up the mountain, with no redemption in sight. 

-Zenwind. 

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Climbing Wall, Rock Music, & Fat Cat

My main events in the last two weeks involved several separate days of long travel on public transport into the city.  Our LP meet-up was, as always, a stimulating delight.  I stopped late at the Rock Pub to hear Mundee, who played “Rock and Roll” by Zeppelin, and a week later I got to hear the full evening set of Munson, who played that same favorite song.  I got a much-needed haircut and visited a gym to check out their climbing wall and facilities. 

Movies are few and mediocre, but they fill in wait time while avoiding rush hour; they are air conditioned and have comfortable lounge areas, and I get cheap senior rate half-prices.  The refusal of Thais to stand up in theaters while the Royal Anthem is being played to honor the King is a definite new and shocking occurrence.  By my very rough count most recently, there were 30 of us in the theater (I was the only farang and almost everyone I could see was a Thai adult), and only 10 of us stood up while 20 remained seated.  A year ago: unimaginable!  The times they are a’ changing. 

I joined a downtown gym for a one-month trial, and the climbing wall is excellent.  I haven’t climbed in 15 years, so it was rough, and add to that the fact that climbing standards of difficulty have evolved tremendously.  The “easiest” climbs on their walls are at the limits of my (onetime) abilities when I climbed in the 70s and 90s, and they are face-climbs, not the crack or friction climbs I was most familiar with.  My forearms have been aching for days after. 

I hire a certified belayer for an hour, and the staff there are great.  When I go back this next week, I will resist trying to do “pure” graded routes – which are of such difficulty for me that it risks injury and only limits my climbing time – and I will instead just climb randomly on the wall, mixing holds from any nearby (and separately graded) routes to make it much easier so I can just stretch out this old body and regain the feel of climbing again in a more relaxed and meditative manner.  

That is similar to my old routines at Rimrock and Jakes Rocks after the thaw in springtime, when I had to slowly regain my feel on rock after a long winter.  I will also try to do more down-climbing while on belay after reaching the top, instead of being lowered on tension – because I’ve always thought down-climbing was essential practice (especially for free solo climbers and lead climbers), and it adds immeasurably to one’s psychological and physical technique.  It’s re-training time for me!  Ooh rah! 

After a long day in the city, and coming home late to avoid rush hour and to catch some evening Rock music, there I see Fat Cat waiting at the gate to greet me after midnight as I approach. 

-Zenwind. 

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Rooster Crow; Taxi Ride

Today I took a taxi to the provincial Immigration Office for my routine 90-Day Report of Address.  It was not crowded, so it went smoothly and quickly.  I will go again in February, and then the big visit in March for my Extension of Stay based on retirement (the red tape nightmare of the year). 

The return taxi driver took an alternative route home, part of it through areas of the greater Bangkok “suburbs” that I’d never seen.  He drove fast through tightly-cornered narrow streets, taking his hands off the wheel momentarily to give a respectful wai whenever coming to a temple and monastery.  And there were a lot of temples on this route, many smaller old ones in poorer areas.  It was a scenic, and thrilling, ride, but I was glad to have a good seatbelt fastened. 

The rains have ended, but the river is still high from upcountry runoff.  The humidity and dewpoints are lower and more comfortable, although the direct sunlight is hot.  In the shade, the breezes are wonderful relief. 

Someone in the neighborhood now has a rooster that crows, and I just realized that there hasn’t been one around here for years.  During my first years here, there were always one or two around.  I have always enjoyed hearing them, as it reminds me of fond childhood memories on the farm. 

-Zenwind. 

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Routines, Protests, Theaters

It is mid-October, and I do miss the autumn leaves in NW Pennsylvania at this time of year.  Here, we are still in the Rainy Season, which makes it a bit cooler than usual. 

The political protests here in Thailand of the younger generation are significant.  As I had written earlier, below, the young demonstrators have taken the unheard-of radical position of criticizing the Thai monarchy itself, which in itself can put you in prison for years.  The protests have been peaceful thus far, but I see two very powerful cultural forces heading on a direct collision course someday soon.  I was in the city yesterday – for a haircut, movie, and meet up with farang friends – and the mass transit was not very crowded, and yet I saw street vehicle traffic blocked up far more than normal in mid-afternoon, indicating there was action in the streets somewhere.  Sure enough, news reports say there were thousands protesting. 

My daily routines: I awake, open my tablet and first check my daily to-do list on my Evernote account (which is synced with my laptop and phone).  Then I check my Gmail Calendar, then my favorite weather forecast site for the day’s weather, and only then can I check my email and daily local news, and then fine-tune my plans for the day.  Then I mix some whey protein with skim milk, and wash down some daily morning meds with it.  Half an hour later I have a light breakfast, followed up by a daily multi-vitamin/ multi-mineral tablet. 

On any given day, I may do local food shopping and walking, or stay home and exercise.  Sometimes I go further afield to grocery stores with a more complete selection, and maybe a movie.  Movie selection is very thin, with old films showing as well as the very few newer releases.  Movie attendance is still incredibly low, with only three or so other folks spread out in the big empty theaters (during weekday afternoons, when I have always attended to avoid crowds). 

One striking new development I’ve just noticed in movie theaters is that a few Thai people are refusing to stand up when the King’s anthem is played before the film.  I’ve never seen this happen in all my years here.  Just before any film starts, a notice always appears on the screen in Thai and in English, asking everyone to stand up out of respect for the King while they show some clips of the current king’s life and play the royal anthem.  For the late King Rama IX (d. 2016), everyone stood because he was so highly respected.  But his son, now the reigning Rama X, never had as much respect and recognition as his father.  I just noticed about two weeks ago in a theater that only half of us were standing, which astounded me.  Yesterday, only two of us out of about half a dozen in the theater were standing.  A sign of things to come?  Wow!  

-Zenwind. 

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Last Farang in Town

In this time of Covid, I am not seeing any other farangs anywhere in my wanderings (except for my once-a-month libertarian meet up with Western friends deep into Bangkok).  We have become an endangered species. 

In my own home neighborhood’s two-kilometer radius, I am usually the only farang around, although throughout my years here it had not been uncommon to see a farang once or twice a month on the local sidewalks.  But I never see them now. 

When I go to the nearest big shopping mall, seven klicks away, I never see farangs at all.  I’m the only one.  Although I don’t speak Thai, I do occasionally pick up a comment mentioning “farang” as I walk by.  I hope they are not buying into the stereotype of the “dirty farang” who is a public health hazard and menace.  I wear a mask, use hand sanitizer at every opportunity, and follow all protocols.  But I feel like I’m viewed as a leper in their midst. 

Alien.  Stranger in a strange land. 

-Zenwind. 

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New Thai Protests

 

We are in yet another cycle of massive Thai political protests, this time involving a much younger generation, one that has some surprisingly radical demands. 

In the most recent elections, the party that was favored by a lot of young people, the FFP, had won third place in number of parliamentary seats.  But the courts disqualified its leader and then dissolved the party itself – under legal reasoning and motives that many young Thais think are suspect. 

The most radical turn during these new protests is that there is criticism of certain aspects of the Thai monarchy and its relation to power – and such criticism can put you in prison for years.  This has turned off a lot of older Thais who revere the monarchy.  The protesters also want a new constitution and the resignation of the military men who wrote the last one and who now still dominate the government even after the post-coup election. 

Same old, same old.  Military coup; election; coup; election; coup; election; etc., etc.  F.A. Hayek would say that there is simply too much power available to whomever seizes (democratically or not) the reins of government, so the contest for that power will always be vicious. 

“Meet the new boss.  Same as the old boss.”  (Pete Townshend)

-Zenwind. 

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Songkran Holiday Substitution

This coming weekend will be a four-day one to make up for April’s Songkran (traditional Thai New Year) holiday being canceled because of the Covid-19 lockdown.  So, they have officially substituted next Friday and Monday as holidays.  Thais do love their holidays, and there will be a mass exit of people out of the city on Thursday, going back to their home provinces to see relatives.  They will start trickling back Monday or Tuesday.  Or whenever. 

I’m recovering from a bout of FMS that has made it difficult to walk my normal distances.  But I’m now On The Road Again (as in the title of a couple of old Blues songs from my youth). 

-Zenwind.  

Rainy Normal

 

Not much news to report here.  It rains a bit every day, but it’s not a heavy monsoon this year so far.  The clouds are a blessing when they do block the sun, and we do often get unexpected breezes that are a brief relief. 

 

I went into the city last week for a movie and then my libertarian meetup group.  It is always great to talk with my friends there, and we had a great discussion with a couple of new members.  Because tourism in Thailand is basically stopped these days, I am usually always the only farang around in most places I go.  I will admit that it is nice to have public venues and transport thus so uncrowded. 

 

I faithfully wear a mask outside and follow all public sanitary guidelines, since I fear that Thais look at us westerners as “dirty farangs” because of the horrific virus toll in Europe and America.  I believe that they now perceive us as reckless, uncaring of our neighbors and dirty, so I try to show my respect and politeness to an extreme.  As a stranger in a strange land, I tread carefully. 

 

I relish the peace and quiet I have here.  It fits my solitary nature and lets me meditate at ease on samsara and the dharma. 

-Zenwind. 

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New Normal in Bangkok

Beyond my immediate neighborhood, I ventured into the city again on Thursday last week to meet my libertarian friends, one of the events I most look forward to.  I time my travel on such adventures to avoid all rush hours on public transit and any crowds in movie theaters.  (I don’t ever do weekend crowds if I can help it; I’m a lifelong misanthrope of sorts, a loner.)  The trains were not packed, and, in the theaters, there were at most two other people in the entire room.  Restaurants and pubs follow our New Normal safety rules during this Plague Era, as do all the above services.  Masks; track and trace registration, etc. 

And live music at The Rock Pub, once again.  This last Thursday I could only arrive late on my way home before closing, and I hoped to hear at least some music.  I sure did!  Mundee was the closing act.  The crowd was small – as it quite often has been on Thursday nights in the past – but the band was hot and I really wanted to hear as much as possible from this favorite band of mine. 

Recognizing me as I came in the door, they played one they knew was a personal favorite of mine: “Here I Go Again” by Whitesnake (a power-ballad from the 1980s).  This song was on the radio at a time when I had my first hope of escape from the bondage of an unbearable relationship.  It helped give me the courage to eventually strike out into freedom: 

“Here I go again on my own,

  Goin’ down the only road I’ve ever known,

  Like a drifter I was born to walk alone. 

  I’ve made up my mind,

  I ain’t wasting no more time.” 

Next, they played an excellent Led Zeppelin favorite from the very early 1970s.  Then, they asked for requests from the small crowd, and, not wanting to hog the show with a Zeppelin monopoly, I shouted, “AC/DC.”  They played “Highway to Hell”, in a great rocking rendition.  Then they played Zeppelin again with “The Immigrant Song” (“Valhalla, I am coming!”).  Next to last was “Sunshine of Your Love” by Cream, a great favorite from my teenage years.  They finished the night with Zeppelin’s “Rock and Roll”, which everyone at the Rock Pub knows is my all-time favorite since the song encompasses the entire span of historical Rock experience – “It’s been a long time since I Rock and Rolled....” 

It was one of the greatest live sets I’ve ever heard – worthy of Valhalla. 

-Zenwind. 

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Live Rock n Roll Once Again!

As Led Zeppelin famously observed:

“It's been a long time since I Rock and Rolled, . . . 

"It's been a long time, been a long time,
Been a long lonely, lonely, lonely, lonely, lonely time.
Yes it has.” 

Oh, Yeah!  The Rock Pub is finally open again!  I attended the first opening night gig there on 2 July.  As I was the first customer in the door to this long-delayed re-opening gig, proprietor Luke Tao took my photo and posted it on the Facebook page of The Rock Pub, Bangkok’s House of Rock, for 2 July.  Jimmy Revolt played the song they know I like, “Rock and Roll” (above).  I attended again on 9 July and Mundee played Zeppelin’s “Immigrant Song”; and because I’ve always felt like an immigrant – an eternal wandering exile – it thrilled me to the core:  “Valhalla, I am coming!” 

In the cinema, I saw Mr. Jones (2019), an outstanding low-budget biopic depicting the true story of journalist Gareth Jones discovering the massive horror of the man-made famine/ genocide of millions of Ukrainians/ Russians in the early 1930s by official policy of the Union of Socialist Soviet Republics.  Integral to this history is how the genocide was systematically covered up by the New York Times man-in-Moscow, Walter Duranty, the apologist for Stalin.  Duranty’s lies persuaded Western governments (e.g., FDR) to think that Marxian socialism was benign.  To be humane, this film should be more widely known. 

Theaters and pubs have strict social distancing.  Mass transit now is back to normal while masks are still mandatory – yet I found traditional rush hour to be far from the crowded mad crush of the past, maybe because all incoming tourism has long been shut off.  Come to think of it, now I see that I am almost the only farang on the trains, an immigrant, in exile. 

-Zenwind. 

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Asalha Puja

This past extended full-Moon weekend has marked Asalha Puja, commemorating the Buddha’s First Discourse, in which he laid out his most basic recommendations:  the Four Tasks and the Eightfold Path.  This day is followed by the start of the Rains Retreat in Theravada countries, where, traditionally, the Rainy Season forces monks to stay in one place and contemplate. 

I hold the Buddha’s First Discourse to be one of the most important pieces of wisdom to me personally – in a lifetime of study in philosophy, psychology, comparative religion, history, etc. – and now I re-read it again along with commentary, learning its deep psychological insights anew.  As a secular Buddhist, I find Stephen Batchelor’s work on this to be most significant.  His 20-page essay, “A Secular Buddhism” (2012) opened up healing possibilities that I wish I had had 50 years ago.  I am happy to now finally be reading his major work expanding on these insights, After Buddhism:  Re-thinking the dharma in a secular age (2015).  It’s a new world, and I am refreshed.  Blessed coolness, Zen delight! 

-Zenwind. 

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Into the City

Today I took the trains into the city, to my favorite premier department store, Siam Paragon, for the first time since this Plague Era began so long ago.  I desperately need to acquire a new tablet computer since my ancient faithful Sony Xperia Z3 Tablet Compact has died – after many, many years of service as a lightweight, waterproof Internet connection (at an 8-inch display) midway between a phone and a laptop.  It was a phenomenally great device that served me so well, and I’m struggling to find a replacement.  But no luck yet with that. 

The great shock at Siam Paragon was how empty it was.  Spooky.  I saw immediately that there were no “farang” around, no foreign tourists.  Everybody was Thai except for me.  And all of us wore a face mask, without exception. 

Face masks are mandatory on public transit and in public market interfaces.  Although we haven’t had a domestic infection in over a month, we still follow the guidelines.  Because of my face mask, my eyeglasses fog up continually in the a/c environment on the trains, in the malls and in each individual store.  Frustrating. 

I just got word today that the pubs are conditionally re-opening, with strict guidelines.  I have sent in my reservations for the limited seating in the first two nights of The Rock Pub’s re-opening this week.  Hope to once again hear great live Rock n Roll!  “It’s been a long time -- a long lonely, lonely, lonely time!” 

-Zenwind. 

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Recent Outings & Observations

Last week I went to my first libertarian meet-up in months, and had a great time talking with a few old friends.  My voice was hoarse the next day – ain’t used to it!  The restaurant followed all the re-opening sanitation rules (e.g., check in and out with the easy “ThaiChana” track and trace system, hand sanitizer, masks, etc.) and it was not crowded.  Nor were the sidewalks during my walk there, which are usually full of people. 

I had earlier seen a couple of movies in the theater for the first time in ages.  (I do love the big screen, and as a senior I get half-price.)  The same registering and distancing rules were also strictly followed there.  The trains going into the city and then out were not crowded, but of course I always avoid rush hours, coming in at midday and out before midnight. 

Yesterday, I went to the closest mall – actually a five-floor venue they call a “department store” – for their Tops Market, some DVDs, and also a movie.  Every single person there wore a face-mask, even the toddlers.  ThaiChana registration via QR code was mandatory for entering the mall and again for each individual store.  It is easy to forget to register your exit, but next time you look at your phone you can finish that. 

On my renewed neighborhood walks/marches, I don’t see much difference from days gone by, except that almost everyone today wears a face-mask, even outside.  A few don’t, but that’s rare.  Marching with a mask is hot and horrible, so when I’m walking a stretch with no people around, I pull the mask down to my chin to get air.  When coming to places with people, I slip the mask back up over my nose and mouth again – it is to be polite to my neighbors.  Since the most horrendous death tolls have been in Europe and the USA, many Thais consider Westerners to be “dirty farangs”, too stupid, unhygienic, careless, or disrespectful to wear masks.  I live here, so I try to show neighborliness by my mask, but also by registering via ThaiChana going into every neighborhood store – even if many local Thais are already starting to skip that.  

-Zenwind. 

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Marching Again, like Sisyphus up the Mountain

Finally, today I started marching again, stepping out briskly on my “long loop” neighborhood walking route by the river.  (Of course, I still wear a facemask, a more comfortable surgical one now, out of politeness for my neighbors.)  There is another more direct walking route – which I always take when despicably lazy – straight down the street a klick-and-a-half to my pharmacy, to Yanhee Hospital, and my English-speaking Thai friend who makes key copies on the sidewalk nearby.  The long river loop adds about two kilometers to the walk, but it is more scenic and is much more conducive to exercise. 

It’s been weeks and weeks – months actually – since I last strode these long-loop sidewalks.  First off, in January and February the winter toxic smog (which I’ve written of earlier) made it necessary to wear N95 facemasks to filter out the PM-2.5 particles, and it is extremely hard to breathe through those when exercising rigorously.  Exhausting and hot, discouraging activity of any kind.  Then the Covid-19 lockdown started, coinciding with the intense Hot Season.  I even stopped my weight training routine with dumbbells two months ago (until re-starting it again just three days ago), and it’s long been far too hot to use my home treadmill. 

In the early stretches of my long river loop march today, I saw old neighbors I hadn’t seen in so long, and we happily waved and smiled as I cruised on by.  Good folks.  Arriving at the Chao Phraya River, I had forgotten how cool it is under the broad Rama 7 Bridge with the shade and constant breeze.  (Blessed coolness, Zen delight!)  The river is quite low at the end of the long dry season, but it will fill up in coming months. 

About one klick into my long-loop march, I started to feel stresses and soreness in various leg muscles.  I realized that walking this loop uses different muscles in different ways, and I’m not used to that.  All my walking in the last couple of months has been just short saunters to stores in my immediate area, and it involves stopping frequently to wait for traffic to clear and slowly weaving through crowded sidewalks with vendors set up, and at no time have I been able to really step out in full uninterrupted stride.  But today, I was again on terrain where I am psychologically accustomed to full-out marching – Ooh Rah! – long rapid strides at as fast a pace as possible – no traffic crossings or obstacles to slow my progress. 

I stretched my legs; I ain’t used to it; and I’m going to be terribly sore for days and days.  As one gets older (and I’m 70), it is harder to recover from inactivity, and it seems like an ever-steeper uphill climb to win back that fitness.  Sisyphus would understand, as he shoulders his rock up the mountain in his eternal task.  Another ancient said in another context, “The spirit is indeed willing, but the flesh is weak.”  The Buddha said that life is Dukkha, recommended that it’s best we embrace that fact while letting go of negative reactions to it, but that joy is possible.  More modern sages, The Rolling Stones, sang, “What a drag it is getting old...”.  Others, “What a long strange trip it’s been!” 

Although the tendency of ageing’s physical weakening and deterioration goes inexorably in one downward direction, the opportunities for intellectual, emotional, and spiritual ripening and fulfillment can go in another direction altogether.  The pinnacles of a lifetime of learning and of drawing on rich deep experience can coalesce into a profound joy – much like the portrayal of Sisyphus (that Camus gives us), at the moment when he turns around on the summit to walk back down the mountain to retrieve his rock again in his never-ending agonizing task.  Sisyphus, momentarily relieved of his upward struggle yet knowing that he will have to continue it soon, can look at the world below him at this moment and take in the complete view (which is also, perhaps coincidently, the first step on the Eightfold Path). 

I’ve read a bit – yet never as much as I’d like – and there are a few distinct pinnacles I’ve glimpsed, many of them being perennial stuff from my youth.  Emerson’s essay, Self-Reliance, said, “Trust thyself.  Every heart vibrates to that iron string.”  When hitchhiking in 1968 after liberation from that grueling 12-year-sentence of public schooling, I carried a small copy of this essay in my pocket everywhere I roamed that entire summer. 

But one quote from an immigrant refugee from totalitarianism who found the promise of a better life in America sums it all up better than others for me:

“To hold an unchanging youth is to reach, at the end, the vision with which one started.” 

I first read that over half a century ago, and I was awed at the time by the notion of steadfast idealism and personal achievement it expressed.  It rings truer as I age. 

I always find it hard to believe that I am an “old man”, even if my body is no longer strong.  The spirit of youth has never left me, and my unchanging vision – Personal Freedom – is right here now.  At this stage, it is doubtful if I’ll ever “grow up”.  What’s the point? 

-Zenwind. 

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The Rains

At last we are getting some fairly regular rain.  It blocks the sun and cools the air a bit, although the steamy damp is always with us.  Our high temperatures look to be in the mid-90s rather than 100*F (for now), and the lows in the lower-80s.  I’ve had to change my night sleep-time routines, by covering my bare legs with a blanket – although leaving my feet exposed lest that be too hot. 

We always have fans blowing on us at night, all year, mostly to keep mosquitoes from preying upon us.  Even in the hottest times of year, I cover my neck and throat because Tuk often turns on a powerful fan unexpectedly during the night.  I often wear a very light-weight wicking turtleneck and shorts at these times.  Tonight, I will break out my long pajama pants once again instead of the blanket.  I haven’t worn socks in years.  I have started turning off our (weak) a/c after midnight. 

Mosquitoes in this Rainy season pose the most danger of Dengue Fever, which regularly kills more Thais every year than has the Covid-19 virus so far.  The mosquitoes carrying this disease prey upon you mostly at twilight, throughout the night, at dawn and early morning, but even throughout the daytime.  We burn mosquito coils at doorways most nights of the year. 

(Hint:  the best way to burn mosquito coils is in steel bowls that have lids; this safely contains the burning coils, and you can put the lid on to extinguish the coil and save it for another time; get a lidded steel bowl about six or seven inches in diameter.) 

Malaria is no longer a problem in most of Thailand, only up in Kanchanaburi province on the Burmese border near Three Pagoda Pass where the WW2 Death Railway was – the Bridge over the River Kwai.  But Dengue is the malady to watch out for elsewhere here.  

-Zenwind. 

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Track & Trace in the Age of Covid-19

During our current pandemic Emergency Degree regimen, in this most recent re-opening phase, our malls/department stores have opened again, albeit with extremely strict hygienic protocols.  Some of the government controls have given me some pause.  There is a bit of dialectic tension here that has conflicted me.  

The track and trace plan here in our Age of Covid-19 is a very efficient system to monitor virus transmissions and to track, trace and do any necessary quarantines.  And since such track and trace policies have been proven to be extremely effective – think, South Korea and Germany (look at their record of minimizing deaths) – it makes sense for panicked governments to use them. 

Here in Thailand, track and trace now consists of two options if you want to do any commerce with most major merchants.  One, install a common QR-code reader on your smartphone so you can quickly scan their QR-code to register that you are entering a mall, or an individual store within it, or most of the convenience stores and markets, and then recording when you exit.  Or, two, you must write down on a sheet of paper your name and phone number as well as your time of entry and exit from the store.  In either case, you leave a record (name, phone number, time of entry and exit) of where you were in crowded public venues so that you can be contacted (tracked and traced) in case a person in the same store as you at the same time has been confirmed as being infected with Covid-19.  It tracks down the disease and its transmission routes very well. 

However, the core anti-authoritarian part of my soul, deeply grounded within my principal identity since I was a toddler, bristles and rebels at the very thought of such government snooping.  I do NOT trust any governments.  Governments have a distinct perennial track record of abusing powers given to them in the panic of dire emergencies and never giving back any freedoms or privacy after normality returns.  Powers derived from such crises are a fascist’s wet dream (as it is with all their authoritarian fellow-collectivist socialist cousins). 

Yet – in this eternal dialectic – as a 70-year-old penniless expat living in powerless exile in a foreign land and accustomed to compromising with political controls here which are not limited by any constitutional constraints or bills of rights, I know that I sometimes have to ignore my principles and relax in order to live a life free of unnecessary  hassle.  Hermit serenity maintained (but at what cost to my integrity?). 

My decision to cooperate with the new track and trace orthodoxy here evolved thusly this last week.  I went to my local store, and after they routinely took my temperature with an electronic sensor, they directed me to a table with a pen and book, where I had to write my name, phone number, and times of entry and exit.  I realized immediately that this was exceedingly tedious, and that such rigamarole, at every single store, every single day, at every transaction, serves only to seriously disrupt my zen.  I have better things to do with my precious moments of consciousness than to fill out time-consuming bureaucratic paperwork forms.  A smoother, faster, less distracting way of fulfilling these (intrusive) track and trace requirements would be welcomed – and the QR-code reader option is that.  So, I surrendered.  I acquired QR-code reader capability for my phone.  After all, it only records your phone number and times and places of public intercourse – (oh, is that all, really?  Forgive my skepticism!). 

Next day, I visited my local store and tried out the reader and scanned the QR-code at the store’s door.  I clicked “checked in”, and after exiting the store, I scanned their QR-code again and clicked “checked out”.  The day after that, I taxied to newly re-opened Central Pinklao mall for some essentials I cannot get elsewhere, e.g.:  a robust umbrella for the oncoming Rainy Season; DVDs from the finally re-opened DVD store there; and Tops Market stuff like cheeses and other imported foods.  My QR-code reader worked well.  I scanned the mall’s code to enter (and again to eventually exit), and the same at each individual store in the mall – the DVD shop, the umbrella store, and the Tops Market.  It was simple and fast.  The Thai workers who were manning the entrances seemed to be very appreciative of my cooperation. 

So, have I betrayed my principles of sovereign individual rights – my privacy – and bowed down in humble submission to the almighty State?  Most probably I have, a bit.  I have compromised.  As part of a poor excuse, I will say that, at my age, I don’t have time to storm the barricades for my ideals when there will be very little success achieved, while I do have other important values pressing immediately on my limited time.  I have so many books yet to read, reviews to write, personal correspondence to answer, etc.  I need to streamline and filter out life’s distractions.  And I also need to participate in daily market life here. 

While being a lifelong individualist, ethically and politically, I still may be able to explain my behavior by reference to my early training in Boy Scout virtues.  Scouting taught me self-actualization and self-reliance, striving for and achieving personal ideals and goals, and yet one required Merit Badge was “Citizenship in the Community”.  Scouting taught me about an additional consideration for my neighbors.  And, I am also a military veteran, with those acquired brotherhood virtues, forged in fire, that acknowledge that there are times when it is cooperative teamwork that is necessary to get all of us through extreme chaos and danger.  Cooperation with track and trace today seems like a civil way to act and to also protect myself, my family and my neighbors.  It is polite and is conducive to harmonious life in one’s community.  Today, I wear a mask, and I track and trace. 

Yet, at the same time I am, and always have been, unapologetically selfish, always striving after my own peace of mind, my own elusive personal nirvana.  (For over half a century, I’ve always been more Hinayana than Mahayana!)  And, no, being selfish does NOT exclude caring for others.  (Can you see this dialectic’s ongoing progression?)  

This pandemic is a storm of dukkha upon us all, and as Aristotle – really more of an ethical individualist at heart than he’s given credit for – said, we are still social beings living together.  My own self-interest shouldn’t conflict fundamentally with being civil, polite and cooperative in weathering this storm together with my community, upon which we all mutually depend. 

Post Script:  A novel relevant to our Age of Covid-19:  The Plague (1947) by Albert Camus.  It’s a classic that I highly recommend. 

-Zenwind. 

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Slowly Re-Opening Society

This week, Thailand entered another measured, two-week, carefully phased, partial re-opening of the lockdown we have been under for so long.  Malls and department stores are now open, under strict social-distancing rules, and of course everyone wears a mask, everywhere.  We’ll see how this goes.  Pubs, cinemas, and sports venues are still closed.  (Boxing stadiums had some of the worst super-spreader hotspots here during the early phase of the pandemic.) 

After the previous two-week phase of re-opening, there was still a continuing decline in rates of Covid-19 infections, hospitalizations, and deaths.  The number of corona virus deaths in Thailand since the very beginning of this epidemic have only been 56 total thus far, despite the fact that Thailand had the first confirmed infection outside China back in January.  One death statistic has up-ticked – since the recent relaxation of travel restrictions, the Thai highway death toll has shot up in the direction of its gruesome normal.  We consistently have one of the highest per capita road death rates in the world (one year Thailand came in second only to Libya, and they were having a raging civil war at the time).  

Today I went by taxi to my Immigration Office on business, and the roads were thankfully not too crowded.  In the big room at immigration, there were only a dozen people, all spread out and masked.  People seem even more polite than the traditional Thai norm these days. 

I have stayed in my home neighborhood and rarely venture out.  For one thing, it is still too damned hot to go anywhere.  100*F everyday with wilting humidity.  I try to go out and am blinded by stinging sweat in my eyes.  May the cooling rains come!  Soon! 

-Zenwind. 

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