Zen and the art of insanity
Reading t he ‘piece of string’ brain bender reminded me of the book Zen and the art of motorcycle maintenance
by Robert Pirsig (now deceased, bless his soul.) On my f irst reading, being heav ily into motorcycle touring, I couldn’t see past t he actua l physica l journey of riding a motorcycle across t he countr y. Re-reading it a few years later while searching for t he meaning of life I embraced t he spiritua l angle while t hinking ‘Wow! This is truly deep, heav y shit! ’ I didn’t rea lly understand it but it sure sounded great.
Many years later, reading it a t hird time and being older and somewhat more cy nica l, of fset I might add by a sense of humour, I’ve been assured it is more t han just a litt le warped, I concluded that the bloke thought too much about life as a huge never-ending mathematical problem and drove himself insane. Watch it Morley, I’m a bit worried about you.
Aussie Sadler,
Mornington Vic
Morley Says...
HEY AUSSIE, I reckon you and I are the only blokes ever to finish reading Zen and the Art. Many people started reading it, but the ones that finished it are a very small roll-call indeed.
For my money, I reckon Pirsig might have scratched too deep, even though he makes a long and reasoned case for his thoughts. From what I remember, he spent a huge chunk of a huge book trying to distil what `quality’ amounted to. He applied all sorts of values to the concept but, for mine, he missed the obvious one: Quality is what you like. And he probably should have left it at that.
At the risk of scaring you further, Aussie, I reckon that something can be termed a quality thing when it gives you pleasure (don’t be dirty). The Kiwis call it `choice’. The fact that we, as humans, share the brain-chemicals that give us our moods and preferences, it stands to reason that some things will evoke almost universal feelings of pleasure. Like a politician copping a cricket ball in the nads, for instance. Sure, you might not find that funny, but at that point, I’d imagine you to be a lane-eight swimmer at best.
I reckon it’s why the majority of us look at a 55 Chevy and smile. Or why beer is an agreeable substance to so many of us. Meantime, instead of being concerned for me, Aussie, I reckon, as the ONLY bloke I’ve ever heard of who has read Zen and the Art not once but three times, it might be time for a quick trip into the hall of mirrors for you, my son. Or a check-up from the neck up.