OMG! Let's get a couple of things straight. Buddhism is about the pain of being born into this world, NOT about loving it, and reconciling oneself to it like a goddamned stupid Christian. Sex might be an interesting experience, with someone you love -- ONE person that you love; everyone knows love is impossible between more than two people, catch a clue; otherwise it's pure pornography, which is what this is with Trungpa -- once you've been forced into birth, but for god's sake, don't have any babies, and if that's not possible, because you don't have contraception, then you must find a way to enjoy sex without impregnation. It doesn't have to be this way. If we ever make a world that is good, where it's a wonderful place to be born into, where no one would object if they were forced to be born into this world, that will be another story, but that hasn't happened yet; people's minds are no where near even thinking about it. So as Buddhists, we must put an end to the suffering. Life is long and difficult, and it's not right to force people into existence.We were in Boston, where Rinpoche had finished a teaching weekend on Tilopa. Our plane to Denver was leaving at 10:20 a.m. I was frantically trying to get everything packed and in order. I had gotten Rinpoche dressed in one of his Savile Row suits and seated in a chair with his glass of sake. We needed to leave for the airport at about 9 a.m. We dragged all the bags and trunks to the hall and I glanced at the clock; it was ten to nine. I bounded up the stairs to get Rinpoche, but when I reached the bedroom floor his chair was empty. I checked the bathroom, the closets, the other bedrooms -- no Rinpoche. I leaned over the banister and yelled down to the guards in the hall, "Has anyone seen Lord Mukpo?"
Andy, one of the Boston Kusung,30 came up the stairs and whispered to me, "Ella and Sue took him into the back bedroom."
"Oh, Lord!" I exclaimed, and ran down the hall to the back bedroom where I discreetly knocked on the door.
Rinpoche's high-pitched voice said, "Come in." I opened the door. All three of them were in the bed naked. Ella was clutching his penis and guiding it into her as she moved up and down. Sue was straddling Rinpoche's neck and pushing his head into her curly mound of black pubic hair. Her bottom wiggled in seeming delight.
I stood there frozen and somewhat amazed. I was completely at a loss. Suddenly, I remembered the airport and our impending flight.
"Sir, are you coming?"
Rinpoche managed to free his mouth to say, "Any moment, Johnny. Any moment now."
We all laughed and a question flashed into my mind. "Did the Buddha eat pussy?" Well, he always had that smile on his face. Perhaps, I thought.
"Is Rinpoche coming?" a guard hollered from downstairs. "Oh yes, yes." I walked downstairs and a moment later the girls pulled a disheveled and laughing Rinpoche down to where we were waiting. We kissed goodbye, hugged, and bundled Rinpoche into the waiting car: As we pulled out, students were waving or holding their hands together in the Buddhist anjali,31 with bowed heads.
Did the Buddha eat pussy? I wondered to myself again.
I poured Rinpoche a glass of sake. He was seated between Sue and Ella. They were all holding hands and smiling. Rinpoche waved to the crowd of students and hummed, "Plop, plop, fizz, fizz. Oh what a relief it is." There was an air of pain and gentleness in the car -- the gentleness of being in love and the pain of parting, all mingled with the smell of sex, wet hair, and sake. I was overwhelmed by a feeling. I felt totally in love with anything and everything. A mental image of Tilopa eating fish heads entered my thoughts and I wondered again, Does Buddha eat pussy?
I, myself, had practiced eating vaginas by sucking on cans of sardines. Somehow vaginas were more sophisticated than sardines. It's really difficult to describe the individual taste or mustiness or wetness because you're dealing with a live entity on the end of your tongue, which is very electric.
Rinpoche looked at me inquiringly and said, "Major, are you okay?"
"Yes, Sir," I replied, snapping back to my organizational role. I ran through a mental list to be sure I hadn't forgotten anything.
"Great," Rinpoche said. "Then let's sing the Shambhala anthem." We sang to the tune of "Let Erin Remember" while dragons thundered in the sky around us.
The vagina is the gateway into the human realm. We are all born with the taste of our mother's vaginal juice in our mouths. Unless, of course, you are Caesarian, an interesting name! Sex is such a primordial act. It is so powerful, the joining of two to make a third, or just experiencing the act. Rinpoche says it's like death -- apart from sneezing, the only other time we experience death is at orgasm. Try keeping eye contact with your partner up to and through orgasm. It's an interesting experience.
Something is very wrong. Millions of human beings and other beings are copulating right now. But everywhere people are pretending that it isn't happening. What is the secret that we are all keeping from each other? Is copulation the ultimate spirituality -- even beyond such an idea of spirituality -- or is it just an event, totally in tune with the cosmos, in which ideas of anything don't exist in any form?
I look out of the car window and in its sun-reflected transparency I see my mother and father copulating-making love to produce me. They are locked in passion like two frogs. Am I in the spirit world looking on? I have a great feeling of compassion for my parents' copulation, for their mutual passion, their willingness to share passion, their willingness to feel what we all experience, ordinary, extraordinary, known, but unknown as to its source or origin, beyond conceptualization. But at the same time, conception occurs. "Thank you so much," I whisper to the reflection and it disappears into the sunlight and Boston streets. We all have that connection.
So I have answered my question. "Yes, of course, the Buddha ate pussy all the time." When he spoke it was from the ground, the ground of the compassionate vagina willing to give birth, willing to nurture, willing to be totally open, willing to be totally invitingly wet, constantly, willing to be Rinpoche.
We pulled into the airport with plenty of time to spare. I had no idea how this was possible.
-- The Mahasiddha and His Idiot Servant, by John Riley Perks
But orgies and oral sex in front of other people? Is this what they consider "holy"? What's wrong with these Shambhala people? I know I keep asking the question, but it keeps coming up. If women have signed on to this belief, then they are really getting snookered. They are being turned into prostitutes. I can understand men making sex everything holy, but women who have to suffer the consequences, and the babies they love having to suffer the consequences? Many many problems arise during a life. It's called the wheel of samsara. I thought we wanted to get off of it as Buddhists. But I understand what's going on here. The Shambhala organization is controlled and run by Theosophists for the purpose of uniting all religions into one, which means we get Christianity in the end wearing different clothes, like Tibetan chubas, and eating different food, like mo-mos, etc., ad nauseum Christianity with an esoteric gnostic spin.
The Theosophists and the Shambhalians have TOTALLY HIJACKED Buddhism. They say Buddhism is something it totally is not! They are not friends of the Buddha. And the Buddha obviously DID NOT EAT PUSSY!
All of you Shambhalians should absolutely walk away from that horribly corrupt organization. And don't look back! If you do, you're an idiot, and I at least won't have the smallest bit of compassion for your idiocy.