Flowers at My Feet

t-20There are iconic images that remain burned into your memory; this, for me, is one of them: the Buddha is sitting calmly in lotus position, a beatific smile stretches across his angelic face. We see that he’s beset on all sides by menacing enemies: monsters, demons, deformed animals. They’re all—at one and the same time—hurling weapons and abuse at The Enlightened One. Darts dipped in poison sail through the air. Flaming arrows fly towards his heart. A mighty javelin inches its way to his forehead. But he remains thoroughly unscathed! As the deadly weapons near the Buddha, they’re all magically transformed into flowers, beautiful wild flowers, which fall gently to the ground around him as he sings, sings to his enemies: “Let fly your fiery darts, sweet enemy, sweet friend! Say what you will, do your worst; it matters not. So many flowers: flowers at my feet. And my, how they fly, in the afternoon sky! You’re not even done, but I’ve already won. Just turned your poison words, into sweet singing birds.”

—John Faithful Hamer, The Myth of the Fuckbuddy (2016)

About John Faithful Hamer

John Faithful Hamer is a college professor who still can't swim, drive, or pay his bills on time. His sense of direction is notoriously unreliable, yet he'd love to tell you where to go. His lack of practical skills is astounding, and his inability to fix things is renowned, yet he'd love to tell you what to do. His mismanagement of time is legendary, as is his inability to remember appointments, yet he fancies himself a philosopher and would love to tell you how to live. He wouldn't survive in a state of nature, of that we can be sure; but he's doing quite well in the big city, which has always been a refuge for the ridiculous, a haven for the helpless, and a friend to the frivolous.

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