Speculative Non-Buddhism

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Usually benign

Radical Potential

Posted by Glenn Wallis on May 10, 2013

MalevichSpeculative non-buddhism is an attempt to think x-buddhism via radical concepts. A radical concept is one that has the status of a transcendental minimum. In Laruellen language, a radical, transcendentally minimal concept is one that “clones” the real rather than the wholly transcendental, and is thus posited by the “human-in-human” rather than by some totalizing x-system. Intriguingly, yet confoundingly, x-buddhism itself is populated by radical concepts. In Cruel Theory | Sublime Practice, I argue that the prime calculus of classical-buddhism is constituted by radical concepts. I have in mind concepts such as vanishing, ancestral anamnesis,  symbolic identity, nihility,  surface, and others (anicca, sati, anattā, suññatā, sabba).

And yet I claim that the brutal failure of x-buddhism throughout its entire history has been its inability (or refusal?) to unleash the revolutionary potential of its thought. I further claim that what has filled the space of this failure/refusal is not a merely quasi-revolutionary force-of-x-buddhism; it is, rather, an impotent collusion. Contemporary x-buddhism’s impotence makes it easy prey to the very status quo its calculus is, arguably, designed to upset. Do we need any further evidence of this than the smooth grafting of x-buddhism onto the western marketplace? In fact, this is an old pattern. Everywhere Buddhism has been brought–Tibet, China, Japan, Thailand, Sri Lanka, etc.–it has been co-opted by the ruling power structures, and thereby seduced away from its revolutionary designs.  It is fair to ask whether today, in Europe and North America, x-buddhism is not just another product that enables its consumer merely to retreat and  refresh before the next day’s onslaught. That would certainly fit the ancient pattern. Chinese Chan, for example, was a mix of agrarianism, Daoism, and Indian Buddhism bound tightly with the heavy chains of Confucianism. In the West, we have a mix of feel-good pop psychology, Hallmark Card-like positive affirmation, and world-buddhism trapped in the bloated cage of consumer capitalism.

That unfortunate, recurring fate of x-buddhism is an issue for historians. Speculative non-buddhism is practical theory. It is concerned with the inherent, present conditions of x-buddhism. Because the radical concepts that speculative non-buddhism works with are derived from x-buddhist thought itself, speculative non-buddhism may be viewed as a form of immanent critique: It considers its subject while immersed in its subject; it remains open to and curious about its subject’s premises and postulates; it follows, in the first instance, the contours of thought drawn by its subject. But it does so not in order to validate the structure of that thought, but to expose the fault lines where x-buddhism’s governing principles break apart.

As a simple example of the confluence of some of these issues, let’s look at the following comment from another blog. The writer is lamenting the tendency of x-buddhist teachers to lure people into their groups with sensible talk sprinkled with a things as they are naturalism, pragmatism, and so on, and then eventually springing religious dogma on them. In other words, the old bait and switch of the peddler.

I saw Ajahn Sumedho give a talk on his way to retirement in Thailand where he pronounced the good news that there is more than this life! So I asked him what experience he had that he based this knowledge on, and did it occur in a meditative state. He ignored the question, like a slick lying politician, and gave me a basic dharma instruction. This is one example of that duplicity in action.

Sumedho was not being duplicitous. He was being consistent. As a bona fide peddler of x-buddhist wares, Sumedho was simply offering up the goods at his disposal. Those goods are that which is indexed by the term “basic dharma.” “The Dharma,” is a non-radical concept. It is, in fact, the polar opposite: a wholly or absolutely transcendental concept. A radical concept stems from a question, one, crucially, posed by the human in and as human, one rooted in our immanent situation. The Dharma, by contrast, constitutes a complex of prescribed answers. Like all wholly transcendental structures, The Dharma’s answers are static and inert. They are not born of the demands of our primitive situation, a situation that alters over time and that science can chart. The Dharma’s answers are born of the demands–logical, emotional, cultural–of a differential, one, moreover, of its own creation, unavailable to science or any other local knowledge.

In his essay “What Kind of Buddhist are You?,” Tom Pepper presents a valuable typology (borrowing from Alain Badiou). In the terms of that typology, Ajahn Sumedho is performing as an “obscurantist” subject (link at bottom).

The obscurantist subject is that subject who [quoting Badiou from Logics of Worlds] “systematically resorts to the invocation of a full and pure transcendent Body, an ahistorical or anti-evental body” which “has the power to reduce to silence that which affirms the event, thus forbidding the real body from existing”(59-60).  The obscurantist subject appeals to some ineffable truth beyond words, which science threatens to destroy, the “truly human” that escapes reason, and can only be found in miraculous revelations and is always hidden in obscure origins.  We see this in x-buddhism whenever there is an insistence that awakening is beyond language, that Buddha never used language to teach, that we must never think if we hope to become enlightened, or that the ultimate goal is some full and pure “substrate consciousness,” Buddha-nature, or “true self.”  We see this subject whenever argument is squashed with appeals to tradition or sutra-quoting or lineages.

The person asking Ajahn Sumedho the question seems be prepared to follow the obscurantist line. For, what if Sumedho had replied, “yes, I attained this knowledge of future births in deep, non-conceptual meditation.” Would that claim have been enough to satisfy the query? If not, the questioner may be approaching the status of a “faithful” subject.

The faithful subject is the one that notices the truth event and tries to force its acceptance in the World. “Forcing” is a term borrowed from set theory, and refers to the attempt to transform the discursive practices and institutions of the World in such a way that the truth becomes demonstrable, is able to appear and be spoken of; in a sense, it is offering a “proof” of a truth that it as yet only “intuitively” grasped. Until it is “forced” into appearing, a truth is indeterminate, it does not seem to belong to the World, and is on the fringes of the discourses and institutions—it exists, but it does not officially appear (Badiou uses the example of undocumented workers in France).  The faithful subject notices the truth event, the occurrence in a World of something that seems a contradiction, an excess, something that cannot be accounted for, and this subject struggles to remake the World to bring this truth into appearance. As Badiou puts it, the faithful subject “engenders the expansion of the present and exposes, fragment by fragment, a truth”(53).

In the terms I am using, a faithful subject thinks x-buddhism via its own radical concepts. What happens to the traditionalist’s “rebirth” and “awakening” or, for that matter, the “non-reactivity” and “present moment” of the post-traditionalist, when forced to reckon with fading (anicca), radical contingency (paticcipasamuppada), and nihility (suññatā)?

What happens, in other words, when we take x-buddhism at its own, radical, word?

____________

Link: Tom Pepper, “What Kind of Buddhist are You?

Image: Kazimir Malevich (Russian. 1879-1935), Suprematist Composition: White On White, 1918, Museum of Modern Art New York.

Posted in Critics, Interpreters | Leave a Comment »

Žižek v. Buddhism: who’s the subject?

Posted by Glenn Wallis on May 3, 2013

LacanSubjectŽižek v. Buddhism: who’s the subject?

By Adrian J. Ivakhiv

This started out as a response to Slavoj Žižek’s recent talk at the University of Vermont on “Buddhism Naturalized,” but evolved into a consideration of subjectivity, which happened to be the topic of my next post in the pre-G (process-relational ecosophy-G) series. [Links at bottom.] So this can be considered part 1 of a 2-part series.

There are Western philosophers with a good understanding of Buddhism. Some of them are Buddhologists: longtime scholars of Buddhism, like Herbert Güenther, Jay Garfield, Kenneth Inada, Jin Park (the definition of “Western” gets a little blurry here), Brook Ziporyn, Stephen Batchelor, and others who are philosophers in their own right (if not necessarily academically sanctioned ones), and who have cut their teeth interpreting original Asian Buddhist texts.

Others have come to Buddhism through a side door: either by accident or through a logical extension of their own interests. Owen Flanagan is one of these, and his recent book The Bodhisattva’s Brain: Buddhism Naturalized provides a model for how an established analytic philosopher can develop a critical dialogue with a philosophical tradition that is foreign yet ancient, complex, and clearly worthy of comparative assessment.

Then there are those whose writing about Buddhism extends somewhat beyond what they know about it. In the past, this was excusable by the dearth of material for western commentators. Buddhist literature is voluminous — one might say it’s Himalayan in its voluminousness — and the fraction of what’s been translated into European languages is still comparatively small. But there is enough now to support full-time positions in Western universities for those who specialize in refined sub-areas of Buddhist studies. And with Buddhism alive and well now in the West and in the East, there is no end to what a Buddhist scholar can do.

Where does Slavoj Žižek fit into this continuum? Read the rest of this entry »

Posted in Constructivists, Critics, Interpreters | Tagged: | 20 Comments »

“A Sickness unto Death”

Posted by Adam Miller on April 17, 2013

BrainNon-buddhism is instrumental. It’s a whetstone for chisels, a forge for hammers. Its tools are meant, as Glenn recently put it, to

deflate, flatten, and simplify the object of the application: x-buddhism. Then, you can place x-buddhism’s raw material next to mute reality. You can also democratize totalitarian x-buddhist material by putting it in dialogue with local knowledges. It is in enabling such acts of decommissioning that non-buddhism is a radical practice, “radical” meaning rendering some x-material minimally transcendental.

The aim is to “decommission” some religious material, to uncook a bit what’s been cooked up, and give us a peek at the x-meat when it’s still raw. This rawness becomes visible to the degree that the material has been rendered “minimally transcendental.” Such uncooking, Glenn suggests, can be accomplished just by bringing religious material into unprotected dialogue with other kinds of local knowledge.

Take the idea of “enlightenment.”

One straightforward way to render the notion of “enlightenment” minimally transcendental would be to assume the (not unlikely) hypothesis that “enlightenment” is, medically speaking, a pathology, a sickness, a defect, an accidental side effect of a bug in the human system.

If enlightenment is a kind of weird, local, peripheral pathology of my already strained humanity rather than the summum bonum toward which all reality bends, then . . . what?

That’s the non-buddhist question: then . . . what?

In her book, My Stroke of Insight, Harvard-trained neuroscientist Jill Bolte Taylor describes what it was like, from the inside out, to suffer a massive stroke in the left hemisphere of her brain.

It turns out that, on Taylor’s own account, this kind of massive physiological trauma looks like “enlightenment.” Read the rest of this entry »

Posted in Constructivists, Critics, Interpreters | Tagged: | 51 Comments »

How to Do Things with Non-Buddhism

Posted by Glenn Wallis on April 6, 2013

how to do thingsNon-buddhism is something that is done. It is not a program to be accepted or rejected. It doesn’t offer a doctrine to be refuted or believed. It can’t fail or succeed. It can only be applied or not. This site contains instruments for its application.

These instruments will enable you to deflate, flatten, and simplify the object of the application: x-buddhism. Then, you can place x-buddhism’s raw material next to mute reality. You can also democratize totalitarian x-buddhist material by putting it in dialogue with local knowledges. It is in enabling such acts of decommissioning  that non-buddhism is a radical practice, “radical” meaning rendering some x-material minimally transcendental.

The results of your application of non-buddhist instruments will surprise you. But your application will require struggle and resistance. For, x-buddhists themselves struggle furiously against and resist the force of Buddhism. Those who are faithful to its force are rare. If anyone believes that x-buddhists will let stand the flesh and blood humanizing of their specular materials, let the fate of Nagarjuna at the hands of the reactionaries and obscurantists be an abject warning. (Or, for that matter, consider the fate of one Siddhartha Gautama.)

How to do things with non-buddhism? What follows is an encouraging example. What makes it so? Read the rest of this entry »

Posted in Interpreters | 27 Comments »

The Myth of the Witnessing Mind, or: It’s Thinking all the Way Down

Posted by Glenn Wallis on March 23, 2013

EndlicheI want to present a comment that Tom Pepper made in response to questions posed by Matthias Steingass. I think that both the questions and the response constitute a brilliant crystallization of recurring, and quite stubborn, issues in contemporary x-buddhism. The issues hover around the interplay of self, no-self, person-formation, ideology, and meditation. But first, some background.

Perhaps the gravest criticism of contemporary x-buddhism we make on this blog is that its proponents refuse to adequately think through the very postulates that comprise their x-buddhism. Sometimes this refusal manifests as blatant hypocrisy. Patricia Ivan’s previous post on the shunning practices of x-buddhist figures is a good example of this. The people she mentions there are typical x-buddhist examples in that they preach values such as compassionate engagement, the wisdom of doubting, and having the courage to be proven wrong, yet routinely shut down dialogue that genuinely and robustly tests their commitment to those values.

While such hypocrisy is unconscionable, it is at least correctable. Even darker consequences follow from the x-buddhists’ refusal to think through their premises. I am speaking of the x-buddhist penchant for reacting against and obscuring the very teachings they aim to disseminate.

One such teaching is the sine qua non Buddhist principle of anatman. This principle holds that there exist no self-entity over and above the socially-linguistically-constructed networks of discourse within which we are embedded. This principle has extraordinary and far-reaching implications for the ways “Buddhism” might contribute to a clear-eyed assessment of what it is to be human. And yet, as many essays on this blog and at non + x have shown, x-buddhists refuse to dispense with atman, positing at every turn some version of a transcendent self.* These essays have typically been met with (i) confused, convoluted, and desperate “arguments” to the contrary, (ii) hostility, or (iii) silence (see above). Read the rest of this entry »

Posted in Critics, Interpreters | Tagged: , | 197 Comments »

Practicing in Delusion

Posted by Tom Pepper on February 22, 2013

http://www.sallygall.com

Practicing In Delusion

By Craig Neely

Inspired by Glenn’s recent post “Works of the Spirit and the Hardness of Fate,” I asked the question of Tom Pepper: “How can you sit through those deluded, x-Buddhist dharma talks at your sangha?”  Rather than give me a quick answer, Tom invited me to write a post about how I might answer this question.   The broader question is, “How does one coming from a non-buddhist critique practice in a deluded, x-buddhist context?”  I’ve come up with six potential outcomes culled from my experience as a thinking person in the midst of Christianity and x-buddhism.  The main focus of this post will be on the last two options.

Possibilities for practicing within the x-Buddhist context:

  1. Hem and haw about it ad nauseum.
  2. Quit and practice by yourself.
  3. Quit and not practice at all.
  4. Start your own sangha.
  5. Sit with the dissonance and practice as a non-buddhist in an x-buddhist sangha.  Don’t go to the things that really bother you and critique when possible.
  6. Pulling through the void…intentionally making meaningless meaning as a way of ‘sitting with’ and ‘not flinching’.

I am most familiar with possibility 1.  I’ve spent lots of time in institutions bitching and moaning about the situation and doing nothing about it.  Granted, it wasn’t until the last decade or so that I actually realized I had a choice in these matters and then it took a few more years to actually make a choice to change.  That being said, we are caught in many institutions that we cannot change or leave.

When you’re done pissing and moaning, you can leave and practice by yourself.  Or just quit practicing altogether.  These two options may seem simple, yet they can be difficult to do.  Being raised as a Christian, it took years for me to realize that I really didn’t have to go to church on Sunday.  This carried over into Buddhism where I “felt bad” about missing a week at my local sangha…even when it was just me and another practitioner.  So, there are two possible outcomes, quit and keep practicing or quit everything altogether.   If you do keep practicing, you may want to start your own group.  That is a whole other post. Read the rest of this entry »

Posted in Constructivists, Critics, Interpreters | Tagged: | 175 Comments »

non + x: Issue Eight

Posted by Glenn Wallis on January 16, 2013

nonplusxheader

Issue Eight of non + x is Out

Essays

(B ⊂ R) ⇒ ?: If Buddhism is a Religion, then what? By Richard K. Payne

This essay is intended primarily as an analysis. The one programmatic goal is to call into question the adoption of the category of religion by Buddhists.While in many cases this is simply a kind of default, there are also Buddhist groups that have purposely adopted the cloak of religion, and participate actively in the rhetoric of “we the religious (good, moral, etc.) people” in opposition to “those secular, humanist, atheistic, materialistic (bad, immoral, etc.) people.” Such a rhetoric generally employs a kind of nostalgic anti-modernism. Pointing out the rhetorical entailments of identifying Buddhism as a religion will hopefully help to make problematic the purposeful adoption of that category as a vehicle for solidarity with other religions in opposition to the realities of our contemporary existence.

A Buddhist Critique of Cartesian Dualism in the Cognitive Sciences By William S. Waldron

The task of “naturalizing mind” has been underway for some decades now and its assumptions either explicitly or implicitly underlie nearly all research in the brain sciences. “Naturalizing mind” refers to the attempt to understand how mind and mental phenomena work by reference to nothing but the material processes measurable, in principle, by the natural sciences. On the face of it, this is a promising direction. As technology keeps improving, so too does our ability to probe into neurological processes, revealing more and more about how the brain works. Unfortunately, the notion of “naturalization” carries with it certain philosophical assumptions about the relation between mind and matter that make it much more problematic than first appears.

Taking Anatman Full Strength and Śāntideva’s Ethics of Truth By Tom Pepper

There is probably no Buddhist concept that has caused more debate, confusion, and misunderstanding than the concept of anatman. Everybody seems to want to assert fidelity to this central Buddhist teaching, but nobody is quite as eager to embrace all the implications of what I will call a full-strength anatman. It is too troubling, for a multitude of reasons, to accept the possibility that the early Buddhists really meant that there is no atman at all, of any kind. So, we get a host of watered-down, more palatable versions of anatman, which turn out always to sneak some kind of atman in under another name. The implication of this, I will argue, is the complete elimination of any possibility that Buddhist thought and practice could function to decrease suffering in the world, the complete destruction of the bodhisattva path.

Creative Writing

Ninth Letter By Akilesh Ayyar

I’m telling her why New York now has bakeries to rival Paris when the sluices open and cold fact faster than a flood submerges me.

The words I just said did not come from me.

Those words came, and these words that I am thinking—these very words—come from elsewhere.

I am, after all, not sitting in some little workshop hammering out, from all possible words, these words. They just—zip—come to mind, sequential as a teleprompter. Only better, because this teleprompter reels off not just words but images and sensations of all sorts, like that red elephant on a beach ball I saw before drifting off last night, not to mention feelings and memories.

Strange I never noticed this before.

Review

What Kind of Scientist was Buddha?
Review of The Scientific Buddha: His Short and Happy Life, by Donald S. Lopez, Jr., and Buddha’s Brain, by Rick Hanson and Richard Mendius
By Tom Pepper

Donald Lopez begins the fourth chapter of The Scientific Buddha with a brief discussion of the history of phrenology. This is offered as a cautionary example, to remind us that what is widely accepted as scientific truth often comes to appear absurd in hindsight. How could anyone possibly have believed in such ridiculous notions as phrenology, alchemy, the four humors, and phlogiston? Lopez is interested in detaching the investigation of Buddhism from the claims that it is somehow scientific, that it is saying exactly the same thing as our newest scientific discourses and is therefore a spirituality perfectly suited modern times. I will return to a discussion of how successfully I think Lopez has accomplished this important goal; first, though, I want to consider another question that this discussion of phrenology raised for me: why do we persist in believing silly things?

I want to consider this question in connection with a book which is one of the most successful proponents of the scientific Buddha’s newest incarnation: Buddha’s Brain.

Please leave any comments you may have about the issue right here. Thanks.

__________________________________

Posted in Constructivists, Critics, Interpreters | Tagged: | 37 Comments »

I’ve Done It

Posted by Matthias Steingass on September 18, 2012

What can we know? That is a question of the European as well as the Buddhist enlightenment. What can we know and what are the resulting consequences of what we learn? For example, what can we know about the Buddhist notion of no-self in this moment, in our lived situation?

One popular description of no-self is that it is a timeless truth which brings deep compassion, bliss and happiness automatically to our life as soon as we get rid of our ego. This view holds that pure consciousness is the secret to eternal life and never-ending bliss, and that a certain entity called ego is the bad guy who prevents the true self from realizing the final and absolute truth. Basically this is some variation of the so-called perennial philosophy, which holds that there is a final truth, a truly real reality which “all” religions at “all” times, “all” over the globe, in “all” civilizations came to know. It is the universal truth. A prominent and influential representative of this view is Robert Thurman. In Infinite Life he states clearly that it is not a question of religion or of belief to accept his invitation to embrace the true reality he wants to be known. “It is a matter of fact, a matter of science, a matter of experiment, and a matter of awareness” (Thurman, 2004, 23). His timeless truth is Infinite Life, reached through the development of the most subtle forms of consciousness, beyond corporal reality (cf. chapter 8). These forms are hindered in their development by the ego. The ego is the ultimate evil; so it has to be destroyed. It is described drastically as “a terrorist in your brain, coming out of your instincts and culture, who is pestering you all the time” (50). This basic duality – true self vs. ego – can be found often in all sorts of esoteric talk. It is not restricted to Thurman’s brand of Buddhism. Enlightenment, in this version, is to realize the true self and to abandon the bad ego. The no-self is the absence of the bad ego whose place then is taken automatically by the true self, from which compassion arises automatically. The terms representative of this view vary. True self can be pure consciousness, pure awareness or something similar. The term ego is relatively stable – sometimes it is also called self – and it seems to have a certain attraction as the denominator of the incarnation of the evil. What does not change is a basic notion of good eternal nature vs. bad mortal nature.

Read the rest of this entry »

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Running from Zombie Buddhas

Posted by Tom Pepper on June 15, 2012

A primary concern of speculative non-buddhism is how we might think new thoughts with and about x-buddhist materials.

As the following essay by Tom Pepper shows, thinking new thoughts with and about, in this case no-self and buddhanature, requires radical reconstructions of those affective and cognitive frameworks through which we make sense of self and world. But thinking for Pepper doesn’t mean tinkering with an idea to make it fit our cozy, already-existing ideological system. He means, rather, the sustained forceful action of considering a matter, like no-self, and of not flinching before thought’s logical conclusions. That that latter demand of thought proved to be too much for as a great thinker as David Hume should give us pause.  Why did Hume, and many others since, flinch before no-self? Pepper suggests that one reason might be that thought sometimes presents us with truths so unwelcome that we simply refuse to accept them. Perhaps the hardest truths for x-buddhism to face are the ones that oblige us “to change our social and economic systems, instead of simply adjusting our ‘selves’ to the world as it is.” But what happens when we begin to think anew with x-buddhist axioms? (Glenn Wallis)

Running from Zombie Buddhas

Tom Pepper

To each human animal is given, several times in its brief existence, the chance to incorporate itself into the existing subjectivity of a truth.  To all, and in multiple types of procedures, is granted the grace to live for an idea, therefore the grace to live at all.

–Alain Badiou, Logics of Worlds

“You can’t handle the truth!”

–Col. Nathan R. Jessup (Jack Nicholson), A Few Good Men

Why do we so often blink at the truth? Read the rest of this entry »

Posted in Constructivists, Interpreters, Speculative Non-Buddhist | Tagged: | 57 Comments »

Are Buddhists Stupid?

Posted by Matthias Steingass on June 8, 2012

I dislike referring to the work of Howard Gardner; but, for better or worse, his idea of multiple intelligences seems to have settled into the memestream. Just this morning, I heard a sportscaster refer to LeBron James as “a genius.” Just as I was muttering “huh?” under my breath, the sportscaster rattled off a list of James’s  athletic abilities. He meant, of course, that James was a genius at basketball. Gardner holds that such locutions are wholly justified. We may, he says, speak of intelligence as manifesting within specific domains; namely: spatial, linguistic, musical, interpersonal, logical-mathematical, intrapersonal, naturalistic, and kinesthetic.

So, if counting cards at a blackjack table is any indication, Rain Man was a logical-mathematical genius. But when it came to interpersonal relations, he was a fucking idiot. I am an intelligent decoder of obscure ancient Sanskrit texts. But ask me to explain my financial matters, and you will be subject to the incoherent burble of a sorry-ass moron. Why not, then, ask whether we may speak of “multiple stupidities“? I am not ashamed to say that, in many areas of my life, I am stupid. How about you?

In the following essay, Matthias Steingass argues that x-buddhists exhibit a specific form of stupidity. I will let you read for yourself what he says about that. I would like to take a moment and put his argument in the terms of this blog’s project. Very briefly, the issue concerns what we may call “the principle of sufficient buddhism.” This is, obviously, the idea that when it comes to “the crucial matters of life and death,” x-buddhism is sufficient in itself. Whether we are concerned with the nature of consciousness or with the tone of our language, x-buddhism’s got it covered. Some of you may be thinking, “well, the Salvador Dalai Lama conducts dialogues with scientists all the time.” Yes, he does, indeed. But if you be a gambling man or woman, I suggest you put your cheese on x-buddhism’s remaining just as it is, thank you very much. For x-buddhism is sufficient in and of itself. It don’t need no science telling it what up.

Might we see this insistence on sufficiency as a sign of x-buddhism’s stupidity? Read the rest of this entry »

Posted in Critics, Interpreters, Speculative Non-Buddhist | Tagged: | 104 Comments »

 
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