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In discussions of self defense, law enforcement, weapons… on various internet forums and even here in the Cantina, people ponder how to deal with violence, dishonesty, lawlessness, exploitation and theft. In particular, they often discuss how to deal with the problem of the dirtbag or scumbag, who is seen as a threat to the good people of the world.
I have to admit I share that assessment. Dirtbags are a threat to the good people in the world, although I think I may see the threat of the dirtbags from a slightly different angle. In this post I want to explore the dirtbag threat, and since this is the HI forum, use a little perspective borrowed from Tibetan Buddhist philosophers.
A digression on the demons of the Tibetans.
If you spend a little time looking at Tibetan Buddhist paintings (thangkas) you will see many pictures of fearful demons. Often black, with blood dripping from their fangs, and rings of severed heads around their waists. Many times they are treading on some poor prostrate wretch. In one of the most famous thangka themes, the wheel of life, the fearsome demon Mahakala holds the entire wheel of life, with all the heaven and hell realms of the intricate Tibetan mythology contained inside the wheel. Spend a few moments to google “thangka” or "wheel of life" and look at the images. You’ll find images of demons and hell realms that rival anything from the imagination of Hieronymus Bosch.
I encountered a Tibetan demon in my youth. It was after I had spent some time wandering in Nepal, seeing the paintings of fearsome demons in village temples back in the hills, staying in a monastery for a while. It a short time after I left Nepal, in a little hill station in the highlands of Sri Lanka, that I encountered the demon. He was just as in the Tibetan pictures, large and black and fearsome, and he was holding me down so I couldn't move just as I was awaking from sleep. For some reason, perhaps from being so recently steeped in the philosophy/psychology of the Tibetan Buddhists, I told the demon “You are a construct of my mind.” Not cooperating, he said in a deep voice “No, I’m not, ” and continued to hold me down. I once again made the assertion that he was my construct, and this time he gradually began to dissolve and fade away, and I could get up. Western psychologists call this a hypnopompic experience. It is a well known phenomena, involving hallucinations and paralysis upon transitioning out of the sleep state. For me, it was a lesson on mental constructs.
My interpretation of the demons of Tibet is not unique. While many unsophisticated Tibetan Buddhist farmers and laborers may see the demons as real and exterior to themselves, most lamas and monks who have spent years contemplating the workings of the mind understand the demons as mental constructs. One book that points this out quite clearly is the Bardo Thodol, or as we know it the Tibetan Book of the Dead. This book is often read over a corpse, and contains instructions for the departing spirit to navigate the bardo realms between rebirths. The bardo is also a convenient place to step off the wheel of life altogether, and choose not to be reborn. While this book is read out loud over a corpse in the hills of Nepal and Tibet, it is interesting to consider that the unsophisticated peasants who may be listening are getting a dose of rather sophisticated psychology/philosophy from an often very learned lama in the process.
The contents of the book detail the sometimes awesome, often frightening, experiences that the soul will encounter in the bardo realm. Always the key to escaping the fear and releasing onself from the bonds of life and death is the realization that the scary light, or demon, or whatever is a construct of mind. Once that realization is obtained, the soul is free to step off the wheel if it wishes. If not, it is inextricably drawn by its own desires to another womb for another lifetime of lessons.
Bill Martino was studying the Bardo Thodol in the months and years before he passed away. He told me several times he didn’t understand it, but I never believed him. He kept reading it and studying it, and that doesn’t happen if the message is not getting through.
A Tibetan demon is as terrifying as a dirtbag. In fact, the dirtbag we meet on the streets of a local city is a Tibetan demon. The dirtbag is a mental construct in the mind of the perceiver. That is not to say that one of us can’t have his skull caved in by a crowbar or be killed by a bullet fired by someone trying to hurt us. That can obviously happen. But the harm that a dirtbag can cause goes beyond those physical injuries.
Let’s spend a few moments considering the possible benefits and drawbacks of the dirtbag construct, realizing that we have the choice whether or not to employ it.
Some may argue that positive aspects of the dirtbag construct are the short-circuiting of compassion and moral considerations that could lead to hesitation in a life-or-death situation when seconds count. Also the temporary relief from guilt or moral torment from one’s actions. These follow directly from the dehumanization of the dirtbag. Military forces through the ages have used the dirtbag construct to address the reluctance of soldiers to kill. My old high school shop teacher used to regale his students with stories of dirtbags. He called them “gooks” because he was fresh from the war in Vietnam. People I have encountered returning from conflicts in the Mideast or Asia often refer to dirtbags as “towelheads” or “sand n*****s.” In a military situation some argue that a soldier is safer and more effective if he engages and terminates the enemy immediately upon identification as a dirtbag. In this manner of thinking, if the dirtbag’s back is turned, the soldier is safer shooting the dirtbag in the back rather than allowing the dirtbag to turn around and possibly engage. Similarly if pre-adolescent dirtbags have been suspected of killing soldiers, this line of thought would lead one to the conclusion that it is safest to engage and terminate a pre-adolescent dirtbag immediately upon identification. Lest this be considered hyperbole, remember the saying popularized during the Albigensian Crusade but that has been used by military forces throughout history, notably in the massacres of Native Americans not so long ago, “Kill them all and let God sort them out.”
In my youth the dirtbag construct and terminologies seemed most obviously prevalent amongst military men. Law enforcement of those days often referred to citizens as “sir” or “ma’am”, even when they had to give an order. In today’s world the dirtbag construct seems to be more widely accepted and encouraged among law enforcement. It is not unusual today to hear even members of the bar or the judiciary speaking in informal settings of dirtbags.
So what counterpoints can be brought against the arguments for dehumanizing and summarily dealing with perceived dirtbags? Here are some considerations:
We need to ask ourselves what kind of society and lives we want. Heinlein said “An armed society is a polite society.” It could be, if strong individuals acknowledge the humanity of other individuals and act with clear perception and compassion. However, if armed men walk around obscuring their perception with a dirtbag construct, Mr. Heinlein may be wrong.
Can one live with integrity and honor while affording other humans respect? Can one upon necessity engage with, hurt, or even kill another human while maintaining that essential respect of one human for another. These are important questions for every individual to address, sooner or later.
I have to admit I share that assessment. Dirtbags are a threat to the good people in the world, although I think I may see the threat of the dirtbags from a slightly different angle. In this post I want to explore the dirtbag threat, and since this is the HI forum, use a little perspective borrowed from Tibetan Buddhist philosophers.
A digression on the demons of the Tibetans.
If you spend a little time looking at Tibetan Buddhist paintings (thangkas) you will see many pictures of fearful demons. Often black, with blood dripping from their fangs, and rings of severed heads around their waists. Many times they are treading on some poor prostrate wretch. In one of the most famous thangka themes, the wheel of life, the fearsome demon Mahakala holds the entire wheel of life, with all the heaven and hell realms of the intricate Tibetan mythology contained inside the wheel. Spend a few moments to google “thangka” or "wheel of life" and look at the images. You’ll find images of demons and hell realms that rival anything from the imagination of Hieronymus Bosch.
I encountered a Tibetan demon in my youth. It was after I had spent some time wandering in Nepal, seeing the paintings of fearsome demons in village temples back in the hills, staying in a monastery for a while. It a short time after I left Nepal, in a little hill station in the highlands of Sri Lanka, that I encountered the demon. He was just as in the Tibetan pictures, large and black and fearsome, and he was holding me down so I couldn't move just as I was awaking from sleep. For some reason, perhaps from being so recently steeped in the philosophy/psychology of the Tibetan Buddhists, I told the demon “You are a construct of my mind.” Not cooperating, he said in a deep voice “No, I’m not, ” and continued to hold me down. I once again made the assertion that he was my construct, and this time he gradually began to dissolve and fade away, and I could get up. Western psychologists call this a hypnopompic experience. It is a well known phenomena, involving hallucinations and paralysis upon transitioning out of the sleep state. For me, it was a lesson on mental constructs.
My interpretation of the demons of Tibet is not unique. While many unsophisticated Tibetan Buddhist farmers and laborers may see the demons as real and exterior to themselves, most lamas and monks who have spent years contemplating the workings of the mind understand the demons as mental constructs. One book that points this out quite clearly is the Bardo Thodol, or as we know it the Tibetan Book of the Dead. This book is often read over a corpse, and contains instructions for the departing spirit to navigate the bardo realms between rebirths. The bardo is also a convenient place to step off the wheel of life altogether, and choose not to be reborn. While this book is read out loud over a corpse in the hills of Nepal and Tibet, it is interesting to consider that the unsophisticated peasants who may be listening are getting a dose of rather sophisticated psychology/philosophy from an often very learned lama in the process.
The contents of the book detail the sometimes awesome, often frightening, experiences that the soul will encounter in the bardo realm. Always the key to escaping the fear and releasing onself from the bonds of life and death is the realization that the scary light, or demon, or whatever is a construct of mind. Once that realization is obtained, the soul is free to step off the wheel if it wishes. If not, it is inextricably drawn by its own desires to another womb for another lifetime of lessons.
Bill Martino was studying the Bardo Thodol in the months and years before he passed away. He told me several times he didn’t understand it, but I never believed him. He kept reading it and studying it, and that doesn’t happen if the message is not getting through.
A Tibetan demon is as terrifying as a dirtbag. In fact, the dirtbag we meet on the streets of a local city is a Tibetan demon. The dirtbag is a mental construct in the mind of the perceiver. That is not to say that one of us can’t have his skull caved in by a crowbar or be killed by a bullet fired by someone trying to hurt us. That can obviously happen. But the harm that a dirtbag can cause goes beyond those physical injuries.
Let’s spend a few moments considering the possible benefits and drawbacks of the dirtbag construct, realizing that we have the choice whether or not to employ it.
Some may argue that positive aspects of the dirtbag construct are the short-circuiting of compassion and moral considerations that could lead to hesitation in a life-or-death situation when seconds count. Also the temporary relief from guilt or moral torment from one’s actions. These follow directly from the dehumanization of the dirtbag. Military forces through the ages have used the dirtbag construct to address the reluctance of soldiers to kill. My old high school shop teacher used to regale his students with stories of dirtbags. He called them “gooks” because he was fresh from the war in Vietnam. People I have encountered returning from conflicts in the Mideast or Asia often refer to dirtbags as “towelheads” or “sand n*****s.” In a military situation some argue that a soldier is safer and more effective if he engages and terminates the enemy immediately upon identification as a dirtbag. In this manner of thinking, if the dirtbag’s back is turned, the soldier is safer shooting the dirtbag in the back rather than allowing the dirtbag to turn around and possibly engage. Similarly if pre-adolescent dirtbags have been suspected of killing soldiers, this line of thought would lead one to the conclusion that it is safest to engage and terminate a pre-adolescent dirtbag immediately upon identification. Lest this be considered hyperbole, remember the saying popularized during the Albigensian Crusade but that has been used by military forces throughout history, notably in the massacres of Native Americans not so long ago, “Kill them all and let God sort them out.”
In my youth the dirtbag construct and terminologies seemed most obviously prevalent amongst military men. Law enforcement of those days often referred to citizens as “sir” or “ma’am”, even when they had to give an order. In today’s world the dirtbag construct seems to be more widely accepted and encouraged among law enforcement. It is not unusual today to hear even members of the bar or the judiciary speaking in informal settings of dirtbags.
So what counterpoints can be brought against the arguments for dehumanizing and summarily dealing with perceived dirtbags? Here are some considerations:
- The dirtbag may be later reclassified. Consider the recent case of Kelly Thomas, who was beaten to death by law enforcement officers on the street. Later it was discovered that Kelly was the son of a retired LEO, that he had psychological problems but was known for his gentleness, and some people reevaluated his dirtbag status. Another case involved John T. Williams in Seattle carrying a knife and a piece of wood who was engaged and terminated by law enforcement. Later John's dirtbag status was reevaluated by many who remembered him as a gentle, deaf woodcarver who was known and cherished by many in the neighborhood where he was shot to death. In both these examples and many others society and the judiciary judged the results regrettable but not punishable, implicitly endorsing the utility of the dirtbag construct.
- Individuals using the dirtbag construct are subject to delayed guilt and moral turmoil. Now we are losing more ex-soldiers to suicide than are being killed in action, arguably due to the application of the dirtbag construct and the later turmoil it causes in their consciousness.
- Any of us could be subject to classification under a dirtbag construct. In that case we may be subject to summary execution without a chance to explain ourselves. This element of danger to every member of society counterbalances the increases in safety from instantly engaging perceived dirtbags.
- Damage to society due to the loss of respectful interactions. A great gift of our humanity is the chance to respectfully engage with the depths of each other. Those depths are obscured in the cartoon world of dirtbag constructs.
- Use of the dirtbag construct obscures reality.
We need to ask ourselves what kind of society and lives we want. Heinlein said “An armed society is a polite society.” It could be, if strong individuals acknowledge the humanity of other individuals and act with clear perception and compassion. However, if armed men walk around obscuring their perception with a dirtbag construct, Mr. Heinlein may be wrong.
Can one live with integrity and honor while affording other humans respect? Can one upon necessity engage with, hurt, or even kill another human while maintaining that essential respect of one human for another. These are important questions for every individual to address, sooner or later.
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