On the bus to work today I got to listen to two Caucasians exchanging meaningful information. As Caucasians do. The gist of it was that oatmeal was bad for you, because of something poo related -- can't remember what, exactly, because I was trying to tune their inane conversation out -- and you should not have orange juice in the morning if you value your poo, plus the oatmeal and orange juice remember, karmically, the violence by which they were produced, metal blades and such, and one of them does half an hour of yoga in the morning which makes him feel fulfilled.
During the last hour at work, a white-haired Caucasian fellow in the lounge lectured the sub-continental about meditation, yoga, zen, and how Nepalese people don't go to the doctor because they just meditate, which ups their MegaHerz, and astounds western medical practitioners. He himself learned meditation from one of the original yogis, and has been doing it for years, he does it really well, and his doctor has shared his amazing results with many researchers world-wide, because he has a unique brain, and teaches people for free, as comes naturally to him. The Lotus Position!
It's just wondrous, the Indian gentleman should try it!
At one point, N leaned over and asked me if the talkative spiritual gentleman ever shut up. I whispered back that he didn't.
Naturally, there was a pilgrim on the bus back this evening.
Wearing colourful ethnic clothing, and beads.
Because it's all pure, man.
But the one thing I learned today was that if you really want to have some entertainment, you show your Cantonese female apartment mate the glossy brochure for Shen Yun which I found in my mailbox upon my return. The upcoming schedule of performances larded with appreciative quotes from people who had been to see it.
"That's for white people, you're all into the meaningful shit."
Followed by a short pungent rant about how Caucasians are all about "mystical" and "spiritual" and tend to go goo eyed over such things.
We're like crows confronted with blinky stuff.
Or nicely rotten roadkill.
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Crows, or Jackdaws? or perhaps Magpies?
All of the above. They share common characteristics; a love of shiny things, and a human-like taste for carrion.
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