The Way I See Trungpa Now

[Tara]

The more I read about this guy Trungpa, the more convinced I am that he was a complete charlatan, a grifter, him and his silly wife Diana, who has none of the pride of womanhood, and does nothing but lick the ground Trungpa walks upon. Trungpa is only interested in worldly power and glory, and Diana is happy to go along for the ride, whatever it might be, since she has no ideas what to do whatsoever. She’s practically retarded. All she can do is ride and enslave horses. (Even assuming the horse digs it as much as you do, is it good to spend your life merging your mind with a horse? Is it good to do meditations on battle maneuvers? Do you think she ever asked herself these questions? Not much of a Buddhist if she didn't.) And I cannot for the life of me figure out why anyone followed him. Were they just content with anyone who was a Tibetan, or anyone who said they were “spiritual”? Did they somehow not have the experience anywhere in their whole life of meeting an authentic, true, good person?

It’s hard to believe that all these people’s “honesty” gene just never woke up, but it appears to be the case.

I am disgusted what this Trungpa guy was up to. I am really seeing the difference between a real lama, and a totally fake one. My lama, Gyatrul Rinpoche, would NEVER have been up to all these shenanigans. He would never have wasted a penny of anyone's money. This is not dharma. This is not Tibetan Buddhism. There are no morals or ethics here.

Shambhala people are really fooling themselves BIGTIME with this idea of “tantra.” Tantra is not turning everything good upside down and making it bad. It’s quite the opposite. It’s making everything bad good. But not just because you said so, but because you wished it from a good place. And it does not mean that everything bad is good. Nothing bad is good, unless you artistically conceive it in a way that has power, that has the ability to catch on and change things for the better. This Illuminati idea that everything bad is really good, just because you have the ego for it, the delusion for it, the machismo for it, the libido for it, is nonsense. You’re going to end up in the nuthouse like Nietzsche.

Trungpa tricked his way to success. Besides having all the support in the world that he wanted to make use of, from the Theosophical Society, from the Mind Control Elite of the world, from the Aquarian Conspiracists, and all the crazy alchemical sex cultists, he simply lied to get where he got. He pretended he had attainments. He pretended he had wisdom. He pretended he had previous lives -- and then threw them in the garbage while pretending he still had them in some magnificent reconciliation of opposites. He pretended not to get drunk. He pretended to care. He put on his Tibetan lama clothes for the Karmapa, and made everyone else dress conservative, and act real proper, and had Diana tell the Karmapa that Trungpa owned every large building in Boulder, after he had draped the Karmapa’s walls in brocade. And with all the limousines and State Department detail, no wonder the Karmapa thought Trungpa was such a huge success in America. He wasn't about to approve a loser. Unless Trungpa had acquired plenty of property and influence, why would the Karmapa want to elevate him. If he was a fucking nobody? Which tells you something about the Karmapa's interest in money as well, as opposed to dharma.

Well, Trungpa lied about most of it. He lied to get his credentials. When is lying good? Especially to your teacher, or someone you love, or to anyone whosoever for any reason at all? Lying keeps people in the dark. Makes them think you are someone you aren't. That's not compassionate.

But Trungpa succeeded in his ruse to get recognition, this proclamation of approval from the Karmapa -- the disgusting arrogance of it all -- which was obviously a big thing for Trungpa, something he worked hard for, and once he had it, he knew he could trade in the future for gifts, cash and rewards of all kinds.

Then he goes to Akong Rinpoche and says, “Give me back my seals; nobody can stop me now!” And "you'll never be as big or important a man as I am, so give me what's mine!" I see a very petty person here, and it's not Akong Tulku.

But he wants more. He wants to stay in the most posh hotel in London to celebrate his "victory". Because he’s going to be rich now! So he goes out and buys a bunch of hand-tailored suits and ties at the most expensive establishments in London, and good things for Diana and Taggie as well. But he wants more. They go to France, because "they had such a good time the last time they went.” But he wants more. Diana wants to go to Vienna, to see the Spanish Dressage. And even more, she wants her lama husband to fulfill her greatest wish in life to study dressage in Vienna with sangha funds. “We’re going to have a Mercedes one day, my lovely, just you watch.”

This display of worldly dharma is astounding.

But still, he doesn’t have anything really to live for. He blew his wad at the second Vajradhatu seminary, and now, like a salmon who has spawned, it’s time to die. He has no desire to live due to compassion for all motherly sentient beings suffering in samsara. If he can’t find a worldly reason to live, then he's finished. But there is one thing that would please him, the spoiled prince: he had a dream that he was a general! But even that’s not enough for him. He wants to be a king and rule a nation!!! NOW THAT WOULD BE SOMETHING TO LIVE FOR!

























It’s astonishing to contemplate that here we are in America, and these Shambhalians act like the American Revolution never fucking happened. Truly, they are a bunch of traitors. What are they doing playing subjects to a king? What rights do they think they could possibly have in this situation? Hello, that’s why we had a revolution, to get more rights for ourselves. You know, the Western enlightenment that brought us HUMAN rights? The enlightenment that said that giving every human freedom would contribute more good to the whole than any other option, including Communism? But Shambhalians don’t hate Communism, as every good student of Western enlightenment would, knowing how it overturns every concept of democracy. They love it. They want to be Communist Monarchists, the very worst of all worlds.

Well, good luck, fools, trying to get anything for all your money, time and effort during all these years you were members of Shambhala. Really, you should have known better. How could you ignore all the bad that was right in your face? You think that’s the way to make an enlightened society? What’s wrong with you?

You should go do something real. You can start by figuring out what "real" is. Go find the real ground. You know, the dirt the buddha supposedly touched when he declared his enlightenment? Though I'm just sure he never did such an arrogant thing as declare his enlightenment. Enlightenment is for fools. Real life is for heroes.

[Tara]

It's obvious why Trungpa died young and dissolute: because he had no faith in himself, because he knew he was up to no good, and that is why he had no reason to live.

[Tara]

And Trungpa was obviously not against violence and killing. If he was against violence and killing, he would not have supported the Shambhala myth. He would not have named his sons Ashoka and Gesar. He wouldn’t want to be a general leading his troops into battle. He wouldn’t want to be a king and rule a nation. He wouldn't hate the Chinese so much. He wouldn’t hit his students and his wives. He wouldn’t torture animals. He wouldn’t say, as he did to Dana Naone after he had his kasung violently strip her, “What’s the matter with wars?” He wouldn’t wear silly military outfits with lots of made-up pins. He wouldn’t have a vajra guard who sported M-16s and submachine guns. He wouldn’t have his students pray to some mythical “Ancestral Sovereigns” praising how they subjugate their enemies, and enslave with the golden yoke of imperial rule. He wouldn’t tell his students that they need to isolate the threat and focus the blame in order to get their enemies. (Would this include murder, like Bill Scheffel?) He wouldn't have "enemies."

Shambhalians pretend they are liberals, and left-wing, but that’s not what they are. They are conservative republicans if not outright fascists. They were drawn to Trungpa because of his military metaphors. They came specifically to train as "warriors." This is Tibetan Buddhism for the military. That is why all the Tibetan guerrillas who trained at Fort Hale with the CIA want to live in Boulder, because they like the Tibetan Buddhist vibe. They have reconciled Tibetan Buddhism with military violence. And so has every single Shambhala student who agreed to the “Shambhala" idea.

Additionally, there’s a nice little overlap with Shambhala ideals and the right-wing Christian fascist crowd: getting the Chinese and the Muslims!

Trungpa gave the right-wing Tibetan Buddhist Shangri-la crowd just what they wanted: a Hitler-style Tibetan Buddhism, in the style of Julius Evola, and Miguel Serrano. See Victor and Victoria Trimondi’s “Fascist Occultism and It’s Close Relationship to Buddhist Tantrism.”

Dressing up like Republicans, drinking alcohol, learning the Queen’s English, shutting up about abuse, giving absolute authority to the monarch -– these are Republican traits, not liberal traits.

So I don’t want to hear anymore about how “liberal” Shambhala’s scene is. That is gross misinformation on the level that Republicans are always trying to do, which is to coopt the left-wing, and define the liberal identity as a conservative identity.

[Tara]

Allen Ginsberg thinks that murder might be on the list. Who would know better than Trungpa's closest student? He wonders what he would do if Trungpa asks him to murder Merwin, and confronts him with it, blaming the idea on the “monster” Trungpa who is, however, very nice. But he never follows through to give us Trungpa’s answer, diverting the question into a ridiculous tirade about a hundred unrelated things: how difficult it is to talk about Vajrayana in public, how Trungpa put himself in danger to Merwin, how Trungpa was indiscreet rather than wrong, how Allen has had enough shit to deal with with drugs, fags, and poets he doesn’t give a shit about, and doesn’t need this shit as well, and how Ed Sanders is a Satanist, and maybe Trungpa is working for the CIA and taking over Allen’s mind, and how poets think they have the divine right of poetry, and can commit suicide and murder like Burroughs, while meanwhile poor little Trungpa can’t wave his frankfurter around, and something about criticizing American culture, and declaring democracy dead because of the atom bomb, and Trungpa is an atheist, and can dharma provide something better than life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.

Q. You've said you've lately been pretty upset over this whole issue. Did you go to see Trungpa specifically because of this?

A. Well, I was blowing my top a few weeks ago, so I went to see him. I said, "What happens if you ask me to kill Merwin?" That was my idea.

Q. You shouldn't put ideas in his head.

A. It was in my head, so why shouldn't I? I mean, the whole point is that that's precisely what you should consider.

Q. If you make a test out of it--

A. Ah.

Q. Was he reassuring?

A. Yeah. Well, he was somewhat reassuring. He was sitting there really sweet, actually. I'd gone to see this monster.

Q. This what?

A. Well, I'd built up this monster in my head. And he explained what -- "I was just talking about my roots, with Dana." But I'd built up this monster. That was my paranoia, the kind that builds up in precisely this kind of situation.

Q. So rather than dispel that situation by making a clear statement on it to his disciples, he feels that they should just work their way through it by themselves?

A. No. When I went to see him I asked him exactly that question. You see, the nature of the teaching and the teaching methods is such that it's very hard. How do you talk about Vajrayana teachings in public? It's very hard to do. And it's made even more difficult by the American situation, where everything is slowly coming out anyway.

Q. Undoubtedly all this is coming out.

A. The point I guess that most struck me was -- you see, Merwin was free to leave or free to stay. Trungpa encouraged him to stay, and went out of his way to put himself in danger, in a sense. So I don't know what the rights and wrongs of it are, but I find more and more my consideration of it is not so much that Trungpa was wrong, but that he was indiscreet. So I say to myself, he was indiscreet. And then I realize what a shitty viewpoint that is. You know, that's a political viewpoint. And you know, the worst charge I have against him is he was indiscreet, and put me in a situation where I have to be here and explain it and go through all of this scandal. As if I haven't had enough with L.S.D. and enough with fag liberation, now I've got to go through Vajrayana, and pretty soon they're going to have articles in Harpers by idiotic poets that I never hired to begin with! About Merwin whose poetry I don't care about anyway! With Ed Sanders freaking out and saying it's another Manson case! Because Ed's paranoia, actually -- Ed has a large quotient of paranoia too. Anything that reminds him of secrecy -- he's been all his life studying black magic and Aleister Crowley and playing around with all that on the sidelines. I mean, getting into the Manson thing, and then getting into Vajrayana and Trungpa and Merwin, is just sort of made for Ed Sanders. And all of Ed's paranoia. And it's made for my paranoia, because half the time I think, "maybe Trungpa's the C.I.A., and he's taking over my mind." Much less all the poets, who want the supreme egotism of poetry -- that poetry should be the supreme individualistic reference point, that nobody should be above the poets, and that if anybody is they'll get the American Civil liberties Union after them! The poets have a right to shit on anybody they want to. You know, the poets have got the divine right of poetry. They go around, you know, commit suicide. Burroughs commits murder, Gregory Corso borrows money from everybody and shoots up drugs for twenty years, but he's "divine Gregory." But poor old Trungpa, who's been suffering since he was two years old to teach the dharma, isn't allowed to wave his frankfurter! And if he does, the poets get real mad that their territory is being invaded!

And then I'm supposed to be like the diplomat poet, defending poetry against those horrible alien gooks with their weird Himalayan practices. And American culture! "How dare you criticize American culture!" Everybody's been criticizing it for twenty years, prophesizing the doom of America, how rotten America is. And Burroughs is talking about, "democracy, shit! What we need is a new Hitler." Democracy, nothing! They exploded the atom bomb without asking us. Everybody's defending American democracy. American democracy's this thing, this Oothoon. The last civilized refuge of the world -- after twenty years of denouncing it as the pits! You know, so now it's the 1970's, everyone wants to go back and say, "Oh, no, we've got it comfortable. Here are these people invading us with their mind control."

And particularly, most particularly, people who suck up to Castro and Mao Tse-Tung. That's the funniest part. All the people, even myself who'd had all sorts of hideous experiences with Marxism. Or who put up with Leroi Jones. It's never questioned, you'd never publicly question that -- write an article about Leroi Jones in Harpers! You know, pointing out the contradictions in his democratic thought. Or anybody's, for that matter.

So, yes, it is true that Trungpa is questioning the very foundations of American democracy. Absolutely. And pointing out that the whole -- for one thing, he's an atheist. So he's pointing out that "In God we trust" is printed on the money. And that "we were endowed with certain inalienable rights, including life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness." That Merwin has been endowed by his creator with certain inalienable rights, including life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. Trungpa is asking if there's any deeper axiomatic basis than some creator coming along and guaranteeing his rights.

Because one of the interesting things that the Buddhists point out is that there's always a sneaking God around somewhere, putting down these inalienable rights. Urizen is around somewhere. And they're having to deal not only with the Communists, and the fascists, and the capitalists, they also have to deal with the whole notion of God, which is built right into the Bill of Rights. The whole foundation of American democracy is built on that, and it's as full of holes as Swiss cheese.

-- The Great Naropa Poetry Wars, With a Copious Collection of German Documents Assembled by the Author, by Tom Clark

So basically he floats the idea of murdering Merwin, then evades responsibility for it by taking a long detour into irrationality.

Then later in the interview, he admits that a person could take the Tibetan "poem" that says "cut the aorta of the perverter of the teachings" literally.

Q. You read for us some of the poems to the aggressive deities, the ones Merwin didn't like. They had lines like, "as night falls, you cut the aorta of the perverter of the teachings," and "you enjoy drinking the hot blood of the ego."

A. Right. So he didn't like "drink the hot blood of the ego."

Q. Or, "cut the aorta of the perverter of the teachings"?

A. That would be Chogyam Trungpa if he was perverting the teachings.

Q. Trungpa would get his aorta cut?

A. Well, the aorta's the life-blood.

Q. So that's just metaphorical?

A. Oh, I suppose so. You might take it literally. Who knows. If I were Burroughs I would say, "of course it's literal."

-- The Great Naropa Poetry Wars, With a Copious Collection of German Documents Assembled by the Author, by Tom Clark

So there doesn't seem to be a firm commitment among this group against actually killing their "enemies."

Then we have John Perks' account of Trungpa telling him to put together a commando unit to attack small military bases and perhaps kill one or two resisters to enlightenment called "Operation Deep Cut," after which they actually do a few real life operations, the first of which is to steal Trungpa's kilt back from Diana's mother's house, the others receiving the names Operation Awake, Operation Blue Pancake, Operation Secret Mind, and Operation Snow White. John Perks declares at that point that the Vajra guard is "combat ready." Obviously Trungpa was feeding these ideas in his crazier people.

It was a flowering such as had never been seen before. Naropa University opened its doors. Every major city in the United States and Europe had a Vajradhatu meditation center and ambassadors were sent out from the Court of Shambhala. When the Prince gripped my arm for support he guided me through the halls, streets, and airports. His step was sure and firm. It was as if I were the crippled one instead of him. The Court was filled with activity.

In one week I had a schedule of over 150 volunteer servants: guards, drivers, cooks, cleaners, nannies, gardeners, servers, secretaries, shoppers, and waiters. All were wanting to participate in the flowering energy that filled the Court, which made it indeed seem to stretch over several miles with a park in the center on the top of a great circular mountain. What had been created was an openness where everything could be explored. We were encouraged to practice, study, and investigate our inner and outer worlds and examine any resulting pain or pleasure.

In the midst of this creative turmoil the Prince challenged me on my military propensities with a casual remark made into the bathroom mirror one morning.

"When we take over Nova Scotia, Johnny, you will need to attack some of the small military bases there."

''Attack military bases!" I said with surprise. "Me?"

"Well, not alone," smiled the Prince, still looking into the mirror examining his freshly brushed teeth. "You could have a commando unit of Jeeps and halftracks." He was looking at me in the mirror as he continued, "You had a halftrack once, didn't you?"

"Yes," I replied, remembering the olive drab army vehicle I owned at the farming school I once ran, seemingly a hundred years ago.

"Well?" the Prince's voice sounded.

My mind activated like a World War II movie as our intrepid band in Jeeps and halftracks raced along the curved snake-like back roads of Nova Scotia toward the unsuspecting enemy. My khaki wool uniform blended with the green countryside, I gripped the metal frame of the Thompson machine gun in my capable hands. On my head was the red beret bearing the Trident badge and the motto "Victory Over War." I smelled the engine oil fumes mixing with the flower perfumes of the country lane as we whipped along on our desperate mission. The sun glinted on our bayonets, or wait, perhaps it was night ...

"Well?" asked the Prince again.

"Oh, oh," was the reply, as I returned from the battle to the bathroom. "Yes, yes, Sir," I said. "We could do that."

"Good," continued the Prince. "You might have to kill one or two.

Kill one or two? What's that mean-kill one or two? was my silent response.

"But I thought we are not supposed to kill," I said, somewhat alarmed.

"Just a few resisters," said the Prince.

Resister, what the fuck is a resister? ran through my mind. Out loud I asked, "Resister? What kind of a resister?"

"Someone may resist enlightenment," stated the Prince.

"Oh, those. Well, yes, we could take care of them," I reassured him.

"Good, good," said the Prince, turning to leave the bath­room. As he opened the door he concluded with, "Well, Major Perks, perhaps you could put all of that together."

I spent the next several hours studying Army surplus catalogs and The Shotgun News. At the local gun store I picked up copies of Commando and SAS Training Manuals. I made a list of equipment and concluded that this "invasion" was going to be costly. I went to the Prince.

"Where will we get the money to organize this armed com­mando force, Sir?" I said, almost saluting.

"Perhaps we could steal the equipment," he suggested.

"Wow," I exclaimed. "You mean like a covert operation." The words and idea thrilled me.

"Exactly," said the Prince. ''And we need a code name for it." He contemplated for a moment and then said, "How about Operation Deep Cut?" As I turned the words over in my mind he continued, "Yes, what is needed here is a surgical strike."

I excitedly repeated the code name, "Operation Deep Cut, covert operation Surgical Strike." This was going to be worth killing just one or two!

"Yes," said the Prince with delight. "Buy some books on tactics and strategy. We should all study them. And you, Major Perks, will be in command." I could hardly wait to take my leave and get started on the campaign. I put on my military hat, saluted the Prince, and ran out of the room, tripping and falling down half the stairs in my haste. The Prince's head popped out of his sitting room doorway. ''Are you okay, Major?" he called down to me.

"Yes, Sir, fine, Sir. I just missed a step," I replied, pulling my uniform straight.

"Good," he said. "Jolly good, jolly, jolly good. Carry on, Major." I saluted again and rushed down the remaining stairs.

I could not wait to tell the other officers in the military about my secret mission. They were all amazed. "Have you told David yet?" was Jim's response. "Not yet," I replied. David was the Head of the Military, now that Jerry had dropped out. I could not fathom why the Prince had chosen David for this position. David was a very unmilitary, slight of build, a Jewish intellectual. He looked more like Mr. Peepers in a uniform -- nothing like Montgomery or Patton.

"I bet his balls shrivel up like raisins when I tell him about this," I scoffed. Indeed, David was quite alarmed at my description of "killing one or two resisters."

"Let me talk to Rinpoche before you do anything," he said anxiously, falling back in his chair.

"Okay," I said, adding with a tone of command, "go ahead, but it's all set. The Prince said so."

Later the Prince called me into his sitting room. I explained that David seemed hesitant about killing a few resisters.

"Oh, he's such a Jewish intellectual," said the Prince.

"Why, that's exactly what I think," I agreed.

"Really?" said the Prince, looking at me with curiosity. "Good, jolly good. You carry on, Major. I'll take care of David and tell him you have a free hand." I left hurriedly to tell the other officers the latest news on my secret commando operation....

Lady Diana, the Prince's wife, had confiscated his Scottish Eliot Clan kilt some months back because she felt he did not look good in Scottish regalia. It was rumored that the missing kilt was hidden at the mother-in-law's house.

"What we need is a practice run," said the Prince to me one morning. "Major, here's a job for your new commando group. We will invite Diana and my in-laws to the Court for dinner and while everyone is here your group will retrieve my kilt."

I saluted with a very big "Yes, Sir" and ran off to inform my comrades-in-arms.

The mother-in-law's house was situated in a small field near the edge of town. On the night in question we waited in our darkened limousine on a side road by the Court. There were four of us, dressed in black. We watched in nervous excitement as the mother-in-law's car pulled up to the Court. and the occupants entered the building. "Let's go," I commanded in a hushed military tone, and the driver sped toward our goal. Near the house he shut off the headlights and silently rolled to a stop in the shadows. We rolled out into the grass ditch and crawled on our bellies across the lawn. I pushed at one of the dining room windows. It opened and I was halfway through when Walter hissed, "The front door is open."

It was too late, however, as I was already pinned in the open window frame by the top window which had slid down on my back. My legs were dangling outside and my arms and head were inside the dining room. The others entered the dark house in a more upright fashion and hauled me through by yanking on my arms....

Triumphantly we returned to the Court. Dinner was finished and dessert was about to be served. I placed the kilt on a silver tray and presented it to the Prince and the seated guests. Lady Diana cried out laughingly "Oh no, Darling" to the Prince, who beamed and gave me the thumbs up sign. The other guests were delightedly amused.

In the following weeks we undertook other commando operations with odd code names: Operation Awake, Operation Blue Pancake, Operation Secret Mind, and Operation Snow White. "Why Snow White?" I asked the Prince. "Because she has to be woken up," was the reply. That made no sense to me. Why did you need to wake up a military operation when we were already totally awake and combat ready? I labeled the answer as crazy and added it to the collection.

During this time I started to have flashbacks to my childhood during the war. I had dreams of the bombing, the bodies in the yellow shrouds, the news footage of concentration camps. I began to feel confused about which was real, my remembrances of things past, the present military operations and the Court, or the future takeover of Nova Scotia. My uneasy feelings returned as did the panic attacks.

I did the same old stuff to avoid confronting any of it. I immersed myself in work, sex, entertainment, alcohol, and food. I knew I was okay, if only I could get myself together. I poured out my woes to the Prince, who was no help. In fact, he did not seem to understand at all and was quite unsympathetic. The more I freaked out the more demands he made on me....

"How are things going for the military encampment?" he asked....

-- The Mahasiddha and His Idiot Servant, by John Riley Perks

[Tara]

There is no doubt in my mind now that Trungpa is a complete traitor to whatever little was good in Tibetan Buddhism. He turned his lineage of Tibetan Buddhism into some horrible Japanese Zen mutation. Everything bad about Japanese Zen that Brian Daizen Victoria talks about, it's State fascism, is taken up and promoted by Trungpa. Is he not an "emperor" junkie? Apparently, the occult establishment came to him and said, "This is how we want you to present Tibetan Buddhism to the West: Zen-style." And he said, "Okay." The Buddhist Society in London was always about Japanese Zen fascism.

What's amazing is how the Americans took it up with such "fierce loyalty." There are traitors to democracy everywhere you look in this organization.

And the same "Establishment" was behind the Nazis, no ifs, ands, or buts about it. I've been studying it intensely for two decades now, and there's no doubt about it. Check out this ridiculous effort by the theosophists to disclaim responsibility.

Hitler was a Rosicrucian.

No wonder Trungpa spent his whole life trying to kill himself.

On the way home Allen says the bodyguards don't carry guns, but they are trained in tai-chi and art of flower arrangement. "They are experts," he says, "but their jobs are very complicated. Trungpa is gravely, maybe fatally ill, he's an alcoholic megalomaniac and he can't keep his hands off the girls. Some time ago we invited a Tibetan lama to check out Trungpa and give us his opinion about the state he is in. The lama concluded that wisdom might still reside in him, but that his body is sick and polluted. Indeed, we sometimes see a glimpse of his enlightened being, but mostly he's a pain in the ass. His guards are very tense, because he's so unpredictable and does weird things. A few months ago, he suddenly threw himself backward down the stairs, to test if the guards were alert. They were not and Trungpa had a heavy concussion. We try to restrict his obsessions as much as possible, but it's a heavy task. After all, what do you do when the king has gone mad? You shield him off from the outside world, praying for a rapid and worthy demise."

It's good to hear Allen talk so openly about this. He says he doesn't feel insulted by Campert's remarks about the [spiritual] mafia. "There are more poets at Naropa who feel that way and I think it's all right. Crazy wisdom wants no followers."

-- Essay by Hans Plomp, Milk, Volume One

[Tara]

When I set my task to figure out what the Nazis were all about 20 years ago, after I removed myself from my nihilistic, violent, male-centered Tibetan Buddhist cult, I never thought the answer would come back to Buddhism. I was just trying to find out why there is so much suffering in the world. Thank you Tibet, Japan and China!

Authoritarianism is the problem. And nobody did authoritarian religion better than these countries. Except for the Muslims, which is another favorite of the occult establishment. When they can get to your deepest spiritual person with all their lies, you've really been got. Politics cannot compare to religion for controlling peoples' minds. That's why Hitler made Nazism into a religion -- blood and soil [and soul] -- based on these kooky Rosicrucian ideas of "spirits" of the land. Sound familiar, Shambhalians?

Lamas as a group were invariably described as crafty and devious in their ability to manipulate the ordinary people of Tibet and the Himalayan region. It was even reasoned that the Chinese Emperor paid homage to the Dalai Lama and his religion only in order to exploit the Lama's capacity to manipulate and control the previously aggressive Mongolian tribes....

No wonder that the people of that country are extremely afraid of disobeying the orders of the Government ... crucifying, ripping open the body, pressing and cutting out the eyes, are by no means the worst of these punishments.

-- The Myth of Shangri-La: Tibet, Travel Writing and the Western Creation of Sacred Landscape, by Peter Bishop

[Tara]

This is complete bullshit, like so much, if not every single thing, that Trungpa ever said.

There was something else that Rinpoche talked about in this lecture that was very helpful to people, which was explaining the rationale for the uniforms that he was wearing more and more frequently. He had designed a number of military uniforms for himself, which he had tailored in England. He wore these initially at the Magyal Pomra Encampments, but now he was also starting to wear them when he presented some of the Shambhala teachings. By this time, some of the senior members of the Dorje Kasung, particularly the Kasung Kyi Khyap and the dapons, also had dress uniforms that Rinpoche had designed.

People had very mixed reactions to this. Many people were concerned about this military culture at this time, and it's still the case that people are shocked when they see photographs of Rinpoche in a military uniform. That's quite understandable, actually. In his talk at the Kalapa Assembly, he said that he had been studying the history of uniforms to determine which ones were the product of aggression and which elements could be used to invoke the energy of warriorship in the positive, Shambhala sense. He talked about uniforms as bringing down the power of the dralas, bringing down the magic of Shambhala. On one level, he wanted to inspire people with the overpowering majesty of his dress. He also talked about transforming the perverse, aggressive energy of the conventional military into a pure manifestation of warriorship without aggression. He felt that the power of the military form was something that needed to be harnessed in the Shambhala world, because of the level of chaos and conflict that is unavoidable in modern life. Rinpoche was particularly brilliant and fearless in his ability to take on degraded cultural manifestations and transmute them into something sacred. On the individual level, he said that people would encounter terrifying visions in the bardo after death, and that if they could come to terms with his military manifestation during this lifetime, it would help them to work with the wrathful energy they would encounter in their journey after death.

Some people embraced his approach to the Dorje Kasung that way; others turned away. For myself, I never doubted his motivation nor was I put off at all by this approach at this point. For one thing, I was in the middle of my experience at the Spanish Riding School, where I was exposed on a daily basis to how the magnificence of military and regal traditions could be uplifting. The hall that I rode in was unbelievably brilliant and somewhat overpowering, yet that was encouragement to me in my riding and it helped to give me a better seat on the horse and more command of the energy. So this made perfect sense to me in terms of how Rinpoche was also manifesting in his dress.

-- Dragon Thunder: My Life with Chogyam Trungpa, by Diana J. Mukpo with Carolyn Rose Gimian

These are not the words of someone who thinks we all have inherent Buddha nature. These are the words of someone who wants everyone to do what they are told, who wants to make everyone their slave, and who wants to scare people into doing what they are told.

We are told over and over again simply that Trungpa is perfect, wonderful, magical, skillful, intelligent in a way that we will never understand, and that every appearance of Trungpa doing something questionable, or bad, is not the way we think it is, but actually, he is the transforming tantric master, turning all bad things good. This is such an insult to our intelligence. He is asking us to be stupid, actually insisting on it, which is quite demonic. He knows, and we don't; and what we see, is not what actually is. He expects us to believe absolutely anything he says because he is our better.

"See him in his military uniform, being wrathful, and everyone will get more used to people in military uniforms, or otherwise, being wrathful." Is this negative tautology called dharma? What he is really saying is, "Suck it up! This is a military organization, so get used to it."

And what are all these lies about creating a peaceful military? Nobody normal is going to see it that way. What kind of game does he think he's playing? He thinks he can transform the military into a peaceful organization, by wearing military uniforms, doing authentic army drills, and jacking up people's paranoia, like John Perks, by having them do commando raids and have severe panic attacks?

If we cannot rely on our natural intelligence, and have to be told how to see every single thing, how are we going to be able to accomplish anything? How are we going to protect ourselves from the predators out there who claim that they have "basic goodness, so back off"?

Oppressors always use the tactic of treating others like children, even when they teach us to be insane!

At times it was like being in kindergarten. You take chances when you're learning, and you finally figure out what works and what doesn't. Or it's like being a child learning to walk. The parent is there to catch you, kind of saying, "Yes, that's walking. Go ahead and walk."

-- Dragon Thunder: My Life with Chogyam Trungpa, by Diana J. Mukpo with Carolyn Rose Gimian

A child doesn't need to be taught how to walk. They will walk whether the parents are there or not. What the child needs to be taught is morals, and good philosophies of thinking. But all I see in Shambhala is Mark Psychology, as in "How to Be a Good Mark So That Others Can Take Advantage of You." and "How to be Meek and Perky." (How do you even say that with a straight face?) While learning to abuse each other for small gain, like now YOU get to have the $8,000 a year job.

[Tara]

Here is some advice I think is very very wrong. And this is after she kicked over a signboard and yelled at Osel Tendzin and his friends who were playing the piano and singing in a hotel in a display of what she considered unShambhala-like behavior. (She would never have done this if there were consequences. She would never have done this to any of her dressage compatriots, which could have resulted in her expulsion from that community. She only did this because she knew she could get away with it, being the "Queen" of Shambhala.)

Rinpoche and I had a real heart-to-heart talk about my role as the Sakyong Wangmo. Rinpoche gave me very direct advice. He said, "You should never question yourself. You're the Sakyong Wangmo. Any instinct you have, just go with it. Don't second-guess yourself. Just do it."

-- Dragon Thunder: My Life with Chogyam Trungpa, by Diana J. Mukpo with Carolyn Rose Gimian

It reminds me of the CIA saying: "To reason is treason," and "Be a man [or woman] of action" and "Do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the law." Is this what passes for "spontaneity" in Shambhala? This is chaos, anarchy, irrationality, license. We always had a saying in our family: "Never go with a thought in your head." I would never give this kind of advice to my children. That is a way to get in big trouble. You should always question yourself before you act, the more the better. And never express anger. Be calm and rational at all times.

[Tara]

If Diana never doubted Trungpa's motivation or approach to wearing military uniforms, and it made perfect sense to her, then why was she horrified when he showed up in his military uniform when she was riding in a show near Boulder?

During the years that the school existed in Colorado, Marie Louise and I competed in dressage shows in the area. Once when I was riding in a show near Boulder, Rinpoche phoned me at the show grounds to say that he was coming to the show to watch me ride. I thought, "Oh no!" I still had it in mind that I wanted to keep my professional world as a rider a little bit separate from my life with Rinpoche. Up to this point, I had been fairly successful. Rinpoche arrived at the show, to my horror, in full military uniform.

In dressage competition there's a rule that spectators have to be at least ten meters from the edge of the dressage arena. Not knowing this, Rinpoche's kusung and kasung put a chair right next to the arena, so close that he could have almost put his feet up on the rail. Before the competition starts, you have sixty seconds to ride around the ring. I rode past him several times, saying, "Get back! Get back! Get back!" Finally they got the message and moved his chair back. I rode the test, feeling completely paralyzed with a combination of fear and embarrassment.

After I finished, I put the horse away, and then I went to see Rinpoche for a minute. The judge for my test, Tom Poulin, was quite prominent in the United States. He was someone I was acquainted with. While I was standing with Rinpoche, since the test was finished, the judge had a break and decided to come over. As he approached, Rinpoche said -- much to my horror -- in my ear, "Sweetheart, let me meet the judge!" I acted as though I hadn't heard him. I said hello to the judge, and we started to talk about my horse and how the performance could improve. Then, I heard a voice saying, "Sweetheart, introduce me to the judge." So I said, "Mr. Poulin, I'd like to introduce you to my husband, Trungpa Rinpoche." Then Rinpoche said, "You know, so many husbands are resentful of their wives riding, but I'm completely supportive. I buy my wife the best saddles, only the best." I was thinking to myself, "It's going to be all right. This is going to be okay." Then I saw Rinpoche looking into the distance at another horse, and he said, "Isn't it amazing that ... " There was a long pause during which Mr. Poulin and I were waiting for him to finish his sentence. Finally he continued, "Dressage horses can shit and run at the same time?"

-- Dragon Thunder: My Life with Chogyam Trungpa, by Diana J. Mukpo with Carolyn Rose Gimian

She was obviously not reconciled with this display of military fakery at all. I'm sure she wouldn't have felt that way if he was a REAL military man, wearing a REAL military uniform. The problem was that it was all obviously crazy.

It seems that the only world he recognized was the world of his own imagination. If it had been a good imagination, then maybe that would have been okay. But as we now know, it wasn't.

You can't just ignore the problems of the world. That's not very compassionate. He even discouraged people from being activists. And he hated democracy. He was just a petty dictator.

[Tara]

This is very funny. You can see the pride here, Trungpa acting like any ordinary rich, tough-guy husband, pointing out to the other prominent man in the room that he too is successful and can give his woman everything she wants, because he has plenty of cash. He's generous, and has moved beyond machismo into gentle woman land. Just because he's wearing a badass military uniform doesn't mean he doesn't like the ladies.

But then he adds the humor at the end. He's not only not-bad, but he also has a sense of humor! He's a charming gangster, with sensibilities.

He couldn't just let Diana have her own relationships separate from him. He has to push himself forward and let everyone know that, "he's the man who made all of this possible."

What an incredible ego. Ha ha ha.

Then Rinpoche said, "You know, so many husbands are resentful of their wives riding, but I'm completely supportive. I buy my wife the best saddles, only the best." I was thinking to myself, "It's going to be all right. This is going to be okay." Then I saw Rinpoche looking into the distance at another horse, and he said, "Isn't it amazing that ... " There was a long pause during which Mr. Poulin and I were waiting for him to finish his sentence. Finally he continued, "Dressage horses can shit and run at the same time?"

-- Dragon Thunder: My Life with Chogyam Trungpa, by Diana J. Mukpo with Carolyn Rose Gimian