Yea, the post was getting some positive feedback so I went back and
reread it. You're right.  It started off neat.  I know this will sound
weird, but we all know what a dog is like who is hand shy.  Even the
hand that comes down to pet him, (usually a neighbor or friend will
elicit a drawing back response.  That is the way I kind of am with
Barry's posts.  I know there is some good stuff, but Ialso  know what is
likely to come.  This may make me come off as a pussy.  But so be it.


--- In [email protected], "whynotnow7" <whynotnow7@...>
wrote:
>
> I had the same thought, but decided to self edit that stuff out.
Ironically the only reason the TM/TB stuff kept intruding was the rest
of the imagery was so good! Belgian chocolate, a train through the
European countryside...who can't imagine themselves there? Sounded
expansive and comfortable, wanted to hear more about that ride.
>
> --- In [email protected], "seventhray1" steve.sundur@
wrote:
> >
> >
> > Here's a thought. A persistant theme in your posts is "MMY as an
> > average guy". Could all the (supposed at least) TBers accept such a
> > premise, and why not try it on for size. Maybe challenge yourself
and
> > try posting without the persistant mocking and continual referral to
the
> > TMO. Yea, I think many your insights are interesting. But I read
your
> > posts knowing that the "put down" is always right around the corner,
and
> > rarely am I disappointed. Seems like you came up with two of three
in
> > this post. (I don't feel like re-reading). But Purusha brewed beer
as
> > Yak piss. Pretty much the typical fare you provide. Sorta not funny
> > anymore. At least for me. Maybe others like it.
> >
> > P.S. At the risk of appearing weak, I hope you don't respond, or
even
> > read my posts, because I like you, and dislike having to take the
> > position of chastising a friend.
> >
> >
> > --- In [email protected], turquoiseb <no_reply@> wrote:
> > >
> > > Sitting in my window seat on the fast train back to the
Netherlands, I
> > > watch the Belgian landscape zip past and try to figure out what
makes
> > it
> > > different from the Dutch landscape. Probably the same thing that
made
> > > Brussels so different from Den Haag or Amsterdam -- the French
> > > influence.
> > >
> > > It was a real pleasure to hear French spoken again, and to watch
the
> > > lips of the women speaking it. There is something about the French
> > > language that makes me think it was invented by a God who --
unlike
> > the
> > > God of Shankara who saw women as corpses or bags of feces -- LOVED
> > women
> > > and wanted to see them at their best. Speaking French causes one's
> > mouth
> > > to move in ways that no other language I am familiar with does,
ways
> > > that are tremendously flattering to women. Add to that the fact
that
> > the
> > > women were on the whole dressed more in the French style
> > (uh...stylish)
> > > than the Dutch style (uh...not so much), and I had a wonderful
time.
> > >
> > > It was just a short business trip, but the business part was over
by
> > > midday yesterday, so I've gotten to spend the rest of the time as
a
> > guy
> > > on vacation, doing what a guy like me does while on vacation. That
is,
> > > walking around taking in the sights, visiting a couple of
Brussels'
> > > treasure trove of Art Nouveau museums, and sitting in cafes
writing.
> > Not
> > > everybody's idea of a holiday, but it is for me.
> > >
> > > One of the high points of the journey was sitting on the Grand
Place
> > and
> > > connecting real-time over the Internet with a friend who was
sitting
> > on
> > > the front porch of his new house in Arunachala, India, former home
of
> > > Ramana Maharshi. He described the view of his street, filled with
> > > beggars and saddhus and (according to him) siddhas, and I
described
> > the
> > > view of my street, filled with tourists and women on their way to
work
> > > or (judging from the looks on their faces and the lilt in their
walk)
> > to
> > > an assignation with their lovers. Different strokes for different
> > folks,
> > > different spiritual paths. :-)
> > >
> > > I miss Joe here on FFL because he, more than anyone else I can
think
> > of,
> > > would enjoy hearing about the beers I got to taste while there. To
my
> > > sorrow, should he appear and be curious, the piece of paper on
which I
> > > carefully wrote down their names has now disappeared. The only one
I
> > can
> > > remember offhand was something like Westmalle, a Trappist Tripel
beer
> > > that was both wonderful and powerful (9.5% alcohol). While I may
not
> > be
> > > much of a monastery kinda guy, my hat is off to the monks who came
up
> > > with this one. If their inner life is a tenth as cool as their
beer,
> > > they are happy froods indeed.
> > >
> > > Can you imagine the beer that Purusha guys would brew, were they
into
> > > that sorta thing? Like yak piss, and drinking a few of them gives
you
> > a
> > > nasty hangover, but no buzz. Beer as tapas. :-)
> > >
> > > The other Belgian things I had to try while there were chocolate,
of
> > > course, and moules (mussels). There is really very little as
> > satisfying
> > > in life as a big bowl of moules with frites and a cold beer. Then
> > again,
> > > some wouldn't consider that satisfying at all, and would say that
the
> > > only thing that is satisfying in life is enlightenment. Their
loss.
> > And
> > > my satisfaction only cost me ten Euros. What has their pursuit of
> > > enlightenment cost?
> > >
> >
>


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