Date: Tue, 15 Jun 2004 01:27:25 -0500
From: Sandi and Scott Spaeth <vespass-AT-swbell.net>
Subject: Bushido....



HILARITY from the New Yorker's "Shouts and Murmurs" column:

BUSHIDO:THE WAY OF THE ARMCHAIR WARRIOR
by EVAN EISENBERG
Issue of 2004-06-07
Posted 2004-05-31
Knowledge is not important. The armchair warrior strives to attain a state 
beyond knowledge, a state of deep, non-knowing connection to the universe: 
in particular, to that portion of the universe which is rich, powerful, or 
related to him by blood.

The unenlightened speak of “failures of intelligence.” But the armchair 
warrior knows that “intelligence”­the effort of the mind to observe facts, 
apply reason, and reach conclusions about what is true and what ought to be 
done­is a delusion, making the mind turn in circles like an ass hitched to 
a mill. The armchair warrior feels in his hara, or gut, what ought to be 
done. He is like a warhorse that races into battle, pulling behind him the 
chariot of logic and evidence. When the people see the magnificent 
heedlessness of his charge, they cannot help but be carried along.

The warrior spirit resides in the hara. It is this spirit, and not any 
deed, that is the mark of the true warrior. Thus, a man who has avoided 
military service may be a greater and braver warrior than a man who has 
served his country in battle, sustained grave wounds, performed “heroic” 
deeds, and been honored with clanking, showy medals pinned to his garment.

Because human beings are prone to illusion, the sounds and sights of 
battle­the groans of the wounded, the maimed bodies of one’s comrades­may 
remain in the mind for many years, like a cloud that confuses judgment. 
Hence, a man who has fought on the battlefield and has later risen to high 
office may be fearful of leading his people to war. Such weakness does not 
afflict the armchair warrior, who at all times is firm in his resolve.

The armchair warrior does not fear death, especially not the death of other 
people.

The unenlightened mind is easily swayed by pictures. Since it fails to 
grasp that life and death are illusions, the sight of the flag-draped 
remains of those slain by the enemy may make it susceptible to weakness and 
feelings of pity. Therefore, the armchair warrior does not let the people 
see such images, except in settings that can be properly controlled, such 
as his own campaign advertisements.

Luxury is the enemy of Bushido. It saps the strength of the people and 
makes them weak and complacent. Therefore, the armchair warrior strives to 
take wealth away from the poor and the middle classes and give it to the 
wealthy, who are already so weakened that they are beyond help.

So-called wise men complain that the armchair warrior is producing 
“deficits,” emptying the coffers of the state and sinking it ever deeper 
into indebtedness to usurers and foreign moneylenders. In their “wisdom,” 
these so-called wise men are like the scholar who came to speak with 
Nan-in. Pretending to ask a question, the scholar flaunted his learning for 
ten minutes while Nan-in, attending politely, brewed a pot of tea. When the 
master filled the scholar’s cup, he kept pouring until the tea overflowed 
the cup, ran onto the table, and dripped to the floor, forming a great puddle.

The scholar, astonished, asked the meaning of Nan-in’s action. “The mind is 
like this cup,” said Nan-in. “If you do not empty yourself, how can you 
expect to be filled?” The coffers of the state, too, are like the cup. If 
they are not frequently emptied, how can they be filled? Thus, the warrior 
takes it upon himself to empty the coffers of the state into the pockets of 
his friends, his relations, and other members of his class. Knowing well 
the corrupting power of luxury, he distributes these treasures with 
reluctance. They are accepted with equal reluctance. Yet not one among his 
fellows shirks his duty.

The goal of life is awareness; the goal of awareness is freedom. If the 
people of a foreign land do not wish to be free, it is the duty of the 
armchair warrior to force them.

The warrior strengthens his resolve and that of his followers by chanting 
sutras, mantras, or other strings of words, such as 
weaponsofmassdestruction or linkstoalqaeda or bringingdemocracytotheworld. 
It is not important that these words bear any relation to reality or even 
that they have any definite meaning. All that matters is that they be 
chanted repeatedly and with great urgency.

The Chinese word for “crisis” combines the characters for “danger” and 
“opportunity.” For the armchair warrior, the significance of this is clear. 
Every crisis is an opportunity, and the lack of crisis poses a grave 
danger. In crisis, the people turn to the warrior for guidance. Hence, if a 
crisis has not occurred, the warrior creates one. If a crisis is subsiding, 
the warrior inflames it. The seventy-third hexagram of the I Ching is 
interpreted as follows: “Two towers fall. When smoke fills the people’s 
eyes, they can be led anywhere.”

Once, a group of travellers were on a perilous journey, in the course of 
which they had to cross a river. Unluckily, their guide forgot the location 
of the bridge, so the party had to ford the river, which, at the place they 
then found themselves, was shallow but very wide. After several minutes of 
wading through the icy water, the travellers began to grumble, “This guide 
is worthless! Let us abandon him and find another!” Sensing the discontent 
of his charges, the guide cleverly led them into a deeper part of the 
river, where the current was stronger and the footing more treacherous. 
“Help us!” the travellers cried. “Esteemed guide, do not abandon us!”

The unenlightened believe it to be the height of felicity to have no 
enemies. The armchair warrior knows, however, that only a steady supply of 
enemies can assure him the loyalty of his friends. When so-called wise men 
warn him that in rashly slaughtering his enemies he is merely manufacturing 
more of them, he smiles
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