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| [n0by@yahoogroups.com] Message 2180 of 2180 From: Sarah Moore <sarahmoore@ausdoctors.net> Date: Tue Nov 18, 2003 10:01 am Subject: to noby, ramarshi, kabeer and celtic and all - part 2 Celtic Moon whirls to face Sarah, her eyes flashing fire. ‘Don’t pander to their egos, you stupid Aussie colonial-plundering git. You’re not even a sannyassin, you loser. These men are dead men walking and you’re only feeding their pathology!’ she shouts. ‘And as for you, Ka-Beer’, she says, slamming her empty Guiness pot down on the bar. ‘Bar-tender, shmar – tender! – you’re not even fit to pull beer. Your ego is so big, you think you can just stand there listening and then dispense advice to your customers, you’d do better to just shut up, listen to Ramarshi and go back to washing dishes!’. |
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| Ka-Beer just shrugs and goes back to polishing some glasses with his
Osho-blessed teatowel. Sarah cowers somewhat. ‘Sorry, CelticMoon, to offend you. I have no wish to feel the fire of your anger, the prick of your sword. ..I know I’m an Aussie, and I include the people whose land we took in my constellations’, she says. ‘they have a place there, by their surrender for our consumption. I beg forgiveness for not understanding social mores of sannyassin internet groups – after all I spent the first 18 years of my life imprisoned in an LSD cult, and my brain has never recovered. I was reared to be a guru, one of the master-race to free the world after the Apocoloypse. But I was never required: the Apocolpyse didn’t happen, and after I saw how much guru competition there was out there, I decided that life wasn’t for me. But I’m just not cut out to be a disciple either. So sorry, but I still love the darshan of the great ones, and Osho was one of those. He comes to me in dreams sometimes, and I read his books as a child, as part of our obligatory 5 hours of spiritual practice a day. I always enjoyed that rascal-guru, and he has great love for me, this I know, even though I never met him alive.’ |
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| Noby walrus is still whimpering in the corner. 'banned, banned, oh no, I
just can’t stop, I’m in my fight again, and it’s a recurring nightmare.’
He can't seem to stop, its like the record is stuck and running on 33 rpm instead of 66. Over and over again he moans, even though his wounds
are now dressed and stitched with expert care from the resident bar doctor, and all before her second beer. ‘I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: you Noby and you alone are the nightmare in your own life, Noby-friend’ states Ka-Beer from his corner, safely sheltered behind the bar, from Ramarshi’s and Celtics flashing swords, just itching to leap out of their scabbards and shed blood over the bar-room floor. |
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| Noby flaps out of his corner, beer glasses and mats flying everywhere as his huge bulk shifts around the crowded room. His walrus moustache is flecked white with beer froth, and he belches loudly, successfully clearing a small area around himself as others flee the sulphurous stench of his beer-plus-fish breath. ‘You can’t kill my friend, Ka-Beer’ he assures Celtic and Ramarshi, with desperate bravado. ‘No matter the sharpness of your sword, he has been shafted too often in the fires of ego-burning. The years with his dark Master took their toll, but you guys, no matter your weaponry, are nothing on the assaults his ego took in Bodhi-Dharma’s company. He’ll shrug you off and keep right on pouring beer. And don’t overlook the value of beer from friends’. |
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‘Shut up, Noby’, snaps Ramarshi, strutting along the length of the bar-room floor, ignoring the admiring glances of all the young women around: Sarah - despite herself - included. ‘Shut up, or I’ll quote Osho at you till you drown in his wisdom. I can more than handle myself in such a motley bar, with rif-raff, even aussie rif-raff, such as these’. Sarah’s face falls. She’d rather hoped the handsome Ramarshi would teach her some constellation technique in his new man constellations - and had already taken his advice with what to say/do with the young people at the end of constellations to great effect. She’d also had visions of other quality time with our handsome but bluntly caustic hero. But she’s also not about to abandon her old friends in their hour of need. What to do, what to do… and not even a sannyassin, not even one of the inner circle… ah dear… Thoughtfully she sips at another beer – being Australian she at least feels confident she can drink these German/European weaklings under the table. To be continued…. Love to all Sarah. |
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