The War

If you haven't watched any of Ken Burns' astonishing survey of World War II on PBS, you owe it to yourself to take a look. We've seen all the video of Hitler, and the newsreels, and watched The Duke take Nazis and Japs on at the same time, but this leisurely fourteen-hour recounting is the story of your father's or grandfather's war, not FDR's. For seven episodes, the people of four small towns in America remembered that time, including moments they've shared only rarely over the years. There are many opinions about this huge documentary, of course, but I'm pretty impressed. It's hard not to be reminded of Howard Zinn's People's History when watching all these events through the eyes of foot soldiers, fighter pilots, and the girl friends at home, unembellished (for the most part), unaffected, as they really were. There's a good article called Master of Deceipt by Dan Flynn at FrontPageMag.com that would seem to corroborate my theory.

There are other touches as well. Burns doesn't blink at the topic of Japanese internments, and shows us another side of who we were. Then there are the segregated black and Japanese platoons, and their soldiers who tell their story with so little rancor, but Burns makes sure we've heard them, and know what they have done. At the end of the FUBAR episode, there's also an Indian, and his is another wonderful story you won't want to miss.

I'm going to write my own FUBAR blog entry soon, I think. There's a FUBAR feel about things I'm having a hard time shaking. It's like we've been walking on what we assume to be solid ground, then all around the earth falls away to reveal our seesaw. Some of us are on one side, while on the other they're adding weights, and ballast, heavy weapons, and cash, and I'm starting to feel a decided tilt. In case you haven't been paying attention, this is a common sensation, I'm told, for a lot of us right now, and it's bordering on the epidemic. I've been engrossed by these glimpses into our last great descent into madness, and the simple dignities of mankind that survive it all, but I know that the events of today will write their own story, and could play out in a distinctively minor key. I need to dig down and see if I've left anything unsaid, and I'm doing that. I need to percolate a bit.

I read a short sermon (or teisho, if you like) by Shunryu Suzuki called "Freedom From Everything". Master Suzuki didn't believe in modest goals. He confessed that he never practiced zazen really well until two years prior, when he nearly drowned in a creek while trying to cross. It was the realization that things can end, he noted, that finally focused his thinking. Zen really is a relative of martial arts, and demands the same resolute approach as the Samurai facing his death. If this were really our last moment, would we still go on fooling ourselves, and still try to make do with half measures? If my own condition does not improve, will I die confused?

I watched another very good video on YouTube. It's a talk by Gudo Nishijima (no, I hadn't heard of him) on the Meaning of Zazen. It's a wonderful talk, with helpful discussion on the pure physiology of zazen sitting to achieve a natural balance. The Zen influence in Buddhism is practical to its core, and its practice is therapeutic in many ways. We have so much to learn.

I really believe you'll enjoy Gudo Nishijima's clear, simple style. I also hope you will notice there really is something special about him. Actually, what's so special is that there's absolutely nothing special about him. There I go with a riddle again ...