My Path to Cultdom

A couple of posts ago I talked about some of the crazy Buddhist cults we have all around the world. And yes, I announced that I had in fact been a part of one. Today, I’ll try and tell my story and a little bit about the group. All these events happened about a year ago.

Fujitaisekiji Kenshokai, members in the millions

It was late spring of 2010. My second year on the job teaching. My main concern at the time? Women. Oh, yes, I was obsessed. I could not find a loving companion to rock the casaba with. My life was not complete. Of course I had women I was interested in, the problem was they weren’t interested in me. To this day I still don’t know why, cause I’m totally awesome. Anyway, a few months prior, the school got a new cute female teacher! She was nice, energetic, and young! Oh yes, I had the eyes for this voluptuous pussycat. But, being that were in a work environment, I couldn’t really do anything about it. But one day out of the blue she actually asked me out! It was completely random! Needless to say, I was ecstatic. My first break in months. Ever since this job had started, I had seriously the worst luck with women ever, and now I was finally getting asked out by a girl. Not only a regular girl, but a girl who wasn’t afraid to take the initiative. Frickin sexy, and super rare in Japan.

They day of the big date came! She decides to come by car and picks me up. We go to a cafe in a place only accessible by car (this will come into play later). So we start a talkin’! We were talking for about five minutes before I realized that we didn’t really have anything in common, and being with her was a drag. Still wanted to get into bed with her though so I was riding it out like a trooper. That’s when she dropped the first bombshell. She had a boyfriend. Now, okay, I shouldn’t have been too upset. But really, my heart was aching. And not the kind of aching you get when you’re heartbroken. This aching was full of “What the fuck!?” and “Why am I here!?”. This is also where she makes her second and most sneaky move. She tells me that actually, she invited me out for a reason. A reason? She takes out a book and asks me what I feel about buddhism. Crap! By this point I’m already far into her trap. She then spends the next hour taking to me about buddhism, this guy named Nichiren (a Japanese buddhist prophet), and this special group that she’s part of. Here were the main selling points:

-All young people!
-You look damn good when you die!
-You will get everything you want in life!
-No bad things will ever happen to you!
-Doomsday philosophy!

The literature she showed me. It's entitled "A Japan that goes against the great sage Nichiren is doomed".

I’m quite stunned at this point. Was this actually happening to me? I couldn’t do much other than nod. All I could do was wait for the inevitable question. And when that question came all I could do was nod my head and say “Ok, I’ll try it”. Now you’re probably asking yourself why I even said yes. It’s a hard question to answer. Well not really. One, I have a hard time saying no to anything, and two, I had just realized why she had brought me to this cafe only accessible by car… crap.

Have you ever imagined what it’s like in a cult center? I feel like I had some idea from watching TV and movies my entire life, but when I was actually brought to one , I realized that it was worse than I could possible imagine. When I walked into the place it was a sensory overload. First thing I noticed was the smell. It smelled like a dank hospital. Like your dying grandma in a hospice. Not pleasant. Second, the sounds. The muffled sounds of someone yelling from a TV, applause, and crying babies. Yeah, crying babies. And third, the sights. It was a very small, darkly lit room, with people sitting around in fetal position. Needless to say, it was uncomfortable.

My hot recruiter shuffles me into another room (the previous room was more like a hallway). I was surprised to see about 60 people stuffed into a space the size of a bedroom, watching a recording of speeches made at what seemed to be a large gathering of the cult. The room was packed, but I managed to find a little bit of space to sit down. I felt like I was being watched at all times, I literally kept looking behind me just in case someone was getting ready to stab me. What can I say, it was my first time at a cult center! One strange thing I noticed was the way they clapped at the television. We were definitely watching a DVD, yet everyone in the room felt the need to clap at the end of everyones speeches like they were actually there. Yes, I clapped along as well to avoid getting stabbed. Finally, when Mr. Supreme Leader Asai Sensei got up to speak, everyone sat up and looked very attentive. He spoke about how Japan was going to be invaded by China, and how a big earthquake was coming. After all that, everyone in Japan would finally realize that this cult was the way to go. Pretty standard if you ask me. The end of the speech brought thunderous applause (still a recording, by the way).

After the speeches were done, they turned on the lights, and people started trickling out. It was now time for my initiation ceremony. After a small fee of about 6 bucks, I was given my prayer beads and prayer book. We chanted for about 20 minutes and that was it! I was officially a cultist! The woman who preformed the ceremony asked me after why I had decided to join them, I couldn’t say a thing. It was also explained to me that every time you chant (you’re supposed to twice a day), you must face towards Mt. Fuji. Islam needs to file for some copyright infringement on this shit. It was a long day, and my recruiter finally let me go home and reflect on what I had just done.

After a great deal of soul searching, I told my recruiter I was through after about a week. It took about a month to actually get her to stop trying to convince me otherwise. She even called in backup in the form of another cultist from a city about 500 miles away to try and stop me from quitting. Thinking about it, I’m lucky I got out at all.

Moral of the story, beware of hot chicks who ask you out out of the blue, they’re actually cult recruiters.

-Maxim

The Four Year Old Artist

When I was very young I took art classes. My mom would invite all my friends to my house, and paid someone to come and teach us art. I don’t know how old I was but it was probably around kindergarten. My mom recently told me that I created some sort of clay sculpture that the art teacher said was absolutely ingenious. She also said I was better than anyone in the class and I should continue to pursue art to nurture my “gift”. I have no recollection of this and my mom said that this sculpture was broken shortly after I made it, though, I can imagine how it probably looked. Judging from other pieces of art I created from this time, it was probably a formless blob. Yes, my formless clay blob was a work of frickin’ genius.

Warping back to today, I can only wonder where all my artistic talent has gone. Today at work I was urged by some kindergarteners to draw something for them. I drew an awesome stick-figure, sticking his tongue out, giving the thumbs up sign. I was ridiculed by the group of girls for the next hour (I get ridiculed a lot, by the way). They showed me all the awesome art that they’ve drawn, and it was incredible… well, for kindergartners. But these six year olds girls were light years ahead of me. They then took my drawing and ran all over showing it to as many people as they could. Everyone laughed at me. Then for the rest of recess they continuously snook up behind me and slapped me hard in the back for my indiscretion. That shit hurt.

So anyway, this 4 year old australian girl is getting a lot of attention in the art community. She has an exhibition of her work showing in New York, and she is getting offers up to 30,000 dollars for one piece. I got to say the amount of hoola-hoops people are going through to peg this girl as an art prodigy are absolutely staggering.

First, lets take a look at two of her featured works:

Get it? No? Here are some explanations the artist gave while showing off her work. I took the liberty to mark the parts of the paintings she is talking about.

"That's corral, and that is a corralSSS, and that is the dolphin waving to the rock".

"That is the river, and that is the boat with allllll of the rrrainbow...uhh. b-b-birdies going to their mommy. And thats the...errr. baby bird coming to the same mommy".

So what genre of art would you put these paintings in? If the first thing that came to your head was “abstract expressionism with a dash of surrealism”, you’re right! That’s what the art community is calling her work. Now take a moment and think back to my clay blob… or any kids art for that matter. Expressing themselves? Check. Abstract? Check. Why? Because usually kids can’t draw for shit. You know it’s true. How many times does a kid come up to their parents and say “Look what I drew in class today!” and the parents goes “Ohhh… what a cute puppy!” and the child replies “It’s not a puppy, it’s a horseshoe crab…asshole!” and runs away crying. I challenge this girl to paint anything that isn’t blobs of paint with glued on dolphins. Seriously.

A big reason why they’re claiming that she’s a real artist, and not just some kid throwing paint around, is because she’s consistent. The gallery director, Angela di Bello, explains that her children were painters as well. But her children’s painting didn’t look the same each time, they weren’t consistant. That’s why they weren’t real artists. Remember those girls who made fun of me today for my stick figure drawing? Yeah, they were pretty awesome at drawing but, the one thing is, all their drawings looked exactly the fucking same. They just draw the same things over and over again. Thats what  kids do. They like princesses? They’re gonna draw a hundred princesses. Princess needs a pony? Yeah, those hundred princesses are each getting their pony.

You may be saying to yourself, “Yeah, that all may be true, but these paintings look a lot better than my kids paintings.” Wanna know why? If your child showed an interest in painting, most parents would give their kids some water colors and a sheet of paper. This girls parents are artists. They’ve been giving their daughter unlimited professional paints and canvases literally since she was in diapers. They basically put her in a room with a canvas, paint, and toys and tell her to go at it. Tell me, what kid couldn’t do that?

So, one’s gotta ask… Who’s getting the money from all these paintings? Certainly not the little kid. Yeah, it’s the parents. Fucking assholes.

Anyway, if you still don’t understand what I’m talking about, watch this video. And pay extra attention to the little girl. She’s, well…special.

The World Will End

In my previous post I mentioned something about some sort of something song that I wrote. Well, even though I can’t play the guitar or sing for shit, I still think it is a piece of lyrical genius. The song is still missing a bridge and a one verse, but I thought I would share it. It would be a crime not too. Again, I must advise all people reading the song to read it silently with the voice of Jack Black in your head. Words in all caps are there for emphasis. Use your Jack Black head voice to scream those parts.

The World Will End

by Maxim

It’s a nice nice sunny day

All the animals come to play

With those fuzzy wuzzy tails I want to touch!

 

One comes up close to me

And he says one simple thing

The world is gonna end… you’re gonna DIE!

 

It starts off slow at first with

*The thunder and the lightning

But the next thing you know

You’re  running from RABID BEARS

 

*Chorus*

The world will end

There’s nothing to lose

We all need help

We’re so fucking screwed

 

People running scared

From all those rabid bears

Do not realize that it’s a trap

 

The bears have formed a pact

With the dogs and the cats

And soon that pet chiwawa has your HEAD

 

You thought it was a good idea

To put Snickle fritz on youtube

But little did you know

It has led to your doom.

 

The world will end

There’s nothing to lose

Those dogs are pissed.

We’re so fucking screwed

 

Bob right down the street

Told me something neat

He said that there’s a way to save the earth!

 

He says we must go on a quest

Into the hornet’s nest

And kill that snickle fritz, YES, one and for all!

 

That chiwawa’s a beast

Don’t let his looks deceive you!

He’ll tear out your heart

And turn it to poo!

 

The world will end

There’s nothing to lose

Snickle fritz!!!!!

We’re so fucking screwed

 

 

Thats all I have for now. Makes you wanna step on a couple of chiwawa’s heads doesn’t it? Still got to figure off how to kill of snicklefritz…that bitch.

Cya around, bloggies.

-Maxim

The Beginning

This is it. The beginning. My blog. Let me just inform you that I have started this on a complete whim with no idea of where this will be going. Will I even continue writing through the week? As with most people, that’s probably based on how popular and awesome it becomes…which I must say is very, very likely.

The question: Can I even do this?

The answer: Probably not, but my heart says YES!

Let’s break this down.

Reasons why I can:

  • Extreme short term confidence: I usually start things with this amazing confidence that I will be able to succeed and excel above all others. This includes when I get into drunk fights against opponents much larger than me.
  • An inordinate amount of free time: This is a doozy. The down time I have at my job allows my mind to wander to the abyss of my imagination. This is where I get many of my ideas, including the one where I decided I want to be some sort of rock star.
  • Interesting interests: This may be a piggyback off the confidence thing, but I think what I like is interesting and other people should like it… or learn to! Not to come off as a self-centered jerk or anything but… yeah… I REALLY DO THINK THAT!
Chicken confidence

I'm the one on the right.

Reasons why I can’t:

  • I can’t write: You may have noticed by now, but I can’t write for shit. Excuse the language. If I could write, I would be able to replace shit with some other magical, less offensive, word to express my feelings. I’m more of a verbal wordsmith. I run my mouth off and piss people off. I can’t do that in writing! For most people this would be a deal breaker… you can’t write then don’t. Keep to facebook. But not I.
  • I give things up quickly: Remember when I said I have lots of confidence in the short term? Well, that runs out awfully fast. An example: Yesterday I wrote a song. I thought this song would make me an immediate rock star. I got home and realized I couldn’t even play my own song on the guitar… and my voice doesn’t sound like Jack Black (that’s the way I sung it in my head).
  • I’ve got no friends: Pretty self explanatory.
  • It won’t become awesome.
  • It’s slightly embarrassing.
  • Boobs.

Woah, got super negative at the end there! What happened to all that confidence?! Anyway, logic states, based on my proven method of reasoning, that I shouldn’t do this. But I’m gonna.

Stay classy and keep reading, blogsphere. To end, one of the ultimate confidence songs of all time… from the Karate Kid with Mr. Miyagi… “You’re the Best Around” by Joe Esposito.

-Maxim