The Way I See Trungpa Now

[Tara]

This passage has just been bothering me ever since I read it. Why in the world would you have groveling respect for a man like this? What is wrong with John Riley Perks?

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

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.

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.

[Tara]

Humans are not animals; we are not frogs mindlessly copulating. Humans have minds; we have compassion and love, and the ability to think things out. That makes all the difference in the world. I totally object to anyone comparing us humans with animals. That's usually done by people who don't want us to rise above the animal level. Why would we want to listen to them? So we can be mindless slaves, marks for their enjoyment and profit, or the enjoyment and profit of their "masters", because the person saying this has the mind of a "natural slave", like Aristotle said?

How could you Shambhalians have ever bought that "natural hierarchy" bullshit?.

Here's the first book every Shambhalian needs to read: "The Rights of Man," by Thomas Paine. There is nobody smarter than Thomas Paine, except maybe Ralph Nader.

[Tara]

Just think about it: By not having babies, you get rid of birth, old age, suffering and death in "no-longer future" generations. Isn't that compassion? That's a way better choice than voting for Trump!

[Tara]

So Trungpa turned Buddhism into Pure Pornography. What do we think about that? I feel gurglings of anger bubbling up inside me.

He was obviously inspired by Aleister Crowley. As soon as he got out of Tibet, he was surrounded by his cadre.

When I first read Rexroth's introduction to the "Great Naropa Poetry Wars," I thought maybe he was slightly exaggerating. But now I'm sure he knew way more than even I've been able to find out through all my researches:

Introduction
by Kenneth Rexroth

THE Jataka Tales, stories of the previous incarnations of Shakyamuni Buddha, as men, women, animals, in the long climb of the Bodhisattva to Buddha, are usually considered simply folk stories. They are more than that, they are a philosophy of history. They always end, "Monks, the wicked hunter was Devadatta, the helpless child was Ananda, and the kindly tiger, monks, was no other than myself."

Devadatta is the counter Buddha, sometimes considered his brother, who always goes about seeking whom he may devour with ignorance and trying to destroy the Buddha word. In some texts he is the actual leader of an anti-Buddha sect in the days of the historic Shakyamuni. He is always with us, spokesman for illusion.

Many believe Chogyam Trungpa has unquestionably done more harm to Buddhism in the United States than any man living. He has identified the Buddha Word with a gospel of illusions. But he will pass, as Devadatta passes, always a failure, through the Jataka Tales.

I do not believe in invoking the State, a deity of illusion, least of all against its own hallucinations. The CIA giveth, the CIA taketh away. But the powers that be would be well advised, to deport Trungpa to his native land, where after due reprocessing he might be given a hoe and sent to a commune in Northwest Tibet. One Aleister Crowley was enough for the Twentieth century. No matter, all passes. The Buddha Dharma alone endures.

-- The Great Naropa Poetry Wars, by Tom Clark

The theosophists running Shambhala have tried to hide the Crowley connection. For example, Ananda Metteyya [Charles Henry Allan Bennett], who was the SECOND Englishman to bring Buddhism to London, (the FIRST being Charles J. W. Pounds [Pfoundes] acting on behalf of the Japanese proto-nazi buddhists that Brian Daizen Victoria has written so beautifully about), started The Buddhist Society of Great Britain and Ireland in 1907/1908, but Christmas Humphreys and his people (Nicholas Roerich, Dr Sarvapalli Radhakrishnan, Alice Bailey, D.T. Suzuki, the Russian singer Vladimir Rosing, Alan Watts and his father, and Meher Baba, for some) pretended it didn't happen, and started The Buddhist Society all over again in 1924 after Pounds/Pfoundes died with Christmas Humphreys as the new founder, not even admitting the existence of the first society. They wanted a proper aristocrat, a judge, to be its head. Elizabeth J. Harris describes the situation as follows:

No gravestone has ever been placed on Allan Bennett’s grave. This could have been due to suspicions which continued to surround his name after his death. For instance, Bennett never completely outlived his reputation as a magician and a member of the Order of the Golden Dawn. The young Buddhist Society was keen to dissociate itself from anything esoteric. Allan Bennett’s involvement as a young man with a movement which was controversial and his early friendship with Aleister Crowley, by then a known occultist, would have been cause enough for suspicion. It is significant that several articles during his lifetime took pains to stress that he was not a man of “mystery”, that he had rejected that part of his past. “It is necessary to say this, since some attempts have been made to surround him with mystery. There is no more mystery attending the Bhikkhu Ananda Metteyya than any other person,” an editorial of The Buddhist Review stated in 1909.66 Clifford Bax said something similar in 1918: “At first glance I realized that he never could have played at being a man of mystery.”67

-- Ananda Metteyya [Charles Henry Allan Bennett]: The First British Emissary of Buddhism [Excerpt], by Elizabeth J. Harris

But the Crowley people were still there. Take for example Marco Pallis, student of Rene Guenon, who was a student of The Marquis Alexandre Saint-Yves D'Alveydre along with Papus and his Gnostic Church of France, which is in "a state of fraternal alliance (concordat) with the Ecclesia Gnostica", Crowley's church.