In the course of discussing the "Zhendao school", some forum participants expressed their attitude to this "school" in the form of free creativity. The works they created are collected on this page.
For those who don't remember — this is the scene with the donkey that Hodja Nasreddin passed off as an enchanted prince.
A truly immortal work.
How clearly this reminds one of the "understanding" of texts by the zhEndao sect!..
Artemyev D.A. What would you say, confronted with the following phenomena...
1. Language schools began to spread where their leaders propagated their own vision, for example:
in English-language schools the word cat, without any grounds, came to be studied as "a snake", and heaven as "water". In Russian-language schools "dad" came to name a lamppost, and "mom" a transformer booth.
Question: would you yourself teach such nonsense, and teach it to your children?
Can such "tolerance" be admitted in schools?
2. In medicine new methods of treatment began to spread, namely:
tonsillitis came to be "cured" by a game of tic-tac-toe, and chickenpox by reading coffee grounds. Would you yourself go to a dentist who would treat without a diploma, simply because he read on the internet how teeth are treated? Can we, out of fear of "violating tolerance", allow him to cripple people?
I foresee objections — but there may be unusual methods, including new ones...
New ones — require qualified verification over a long period of time.
Traditional ones (I speak of China) are known by their belonging to Schools. To consider the question of transmitting such knowledge without at least knowing the language is unserious; read the themes of this section and you will see that no "daigong" helped the founder of zhEndao avoid making elementary stupid errors, such as Yuan You, Lungaizao, Wei, etc.
So what kind of tolerance can we speak of?
Medicine fights harmful microbes, granting them no tolerance; the Taoist patriarchs in the canons criticize false "schools"; true teachers fight for the preservation of the system of correct education. Maybe there is sense, after all, in not letting a sick man die only because he cannot think and his head is stuffed with the garbage of the propaganda of "freedom", when in fact a greater slave than he cannot be found?
Therefore when here they try to impose on me the opinion that knowledge of the language is unimportant, that countless errors are ignored, that nonsense is presented as "methods", and that "we will keep going because we like it", then I will say this: go even under yourselves, but do not say that everyone does it traditionally according to the Taoist method. The fact that you do not notice the stupidity of your position does not mean that everyone should have the same clinic. For you this is tolerance, but for any specialist you are no more than a sect of the most primitive sort, and on an idiotizing basis.
Is there anything to constructively object to? I am always ready to discuss.
Nothing to say, and indignation chokes you — I cannot help in any way; you ended up in a garbage pit, and that is why it is stuffy. One must get out, and not look for a golden key in it — it cannot be there by definition; "Buratino" led you to the field of wonders not out of ignorance, but out of your greed for easy knowledge and discounts and the fog of "ancient schools". So there is something to seethe about — free cheese is only in a mousetrap.
Artemyev D.A. "Dreams come true"... or the Tale of how one is initiated into zhEndao.
"...Having done the habitual practice of letting go of the mind and waiting until it hides around the corner, the two travelers at last approached the appointed place. At that, one of them began to instruct the other in an inspired voice, on a high note:
O soldier of the Tao, now, after
your mind has at last left you,
you must close your eyes
and stop up your ears,
because "HE" always comes in teleportation
and you will not bear it — you will go blind and deaf,
which is why the method of Lungaizao was needed —
it creates a protective hut in the head that cleanses the brain..."
At these words the tone of the voice shifted to terrifying notes of howling, which caused a mass exodus of birds and of all living things from this mountain within a radius of 10 li...
The soldier of the Tao, shaken by all the grandeur of the moment, weakly "sank into meditation", creating the protective hut and closing his eyes and ears. He prepared to wait...
And he saw and came to know everything — on the horizon of his cleansed consciousness two figures appeared — one, the larger, pressed to its chest a volume of Thomas Cleary and repeated the mantra "I am the true Tao"; the second, smaller, in a worker's padded overall, seconded: "zhEndao, zhEndao, verily zhEndao".
Tears welled on the face of the "soldier of the Tao"... "I knew they existed, despite the opinion of this 'Petersburg center'; I believed in it, and they have come"...
The figures came closer, driving off, to a safe distance, the mind that had already begun to return. The large one said thoughtfully: "The level of lungaizao-tization is still insufficient; insignificant doubts arise, which draws the mind back..." The small one seconded: "The 'intermediate mastery' would have helped, but here's the trouble — the mind has grown altogether passive, all the dreams repeat one motif, that he is a 'soldier of the Tao' and 'the Tao is his general', and therefore he cannot drive off the mind once and for all..."
The large one glanced into the volume of Thomas Cleary: "Maybe knock it out with daoyin? No, he already does gymnastics every day — it doesn't help"...
The small one had a revelation: "And what if we apply to him the most radical method, the one for exceptional cases?"
The large one was even startled: "You mean the application of 'that which never was and cannot be', the 'basic method of the meeting of the cognizant spirit SHI SHEN with YUAN SHEN'; don't you pity him?"
The small one took offense: "I'm proposing what's best; he's a 'soldier', after all, maybe he'll endure it. Otherwise, who knows how long he'll keep doubting; our economic development cannot allow doubters in our artificially-masterful ranks."
The large one cheered up: "well, that's a thing; this effect has been known since antiquity as 'the mind went beyond reason!' and it should surely help."
At these words the "soldier of the Tao" suddenly fell into a slowed state and saw how his released mind rushed fearfully back to the body, trying to return into it before the "act was performed". But at that moment the two figures seized his "ego" and united it with the "subconscious" through "awareness".
An explosion rang out in the head, and bliss descended upon the "soldier"; "now it will never be necessary to think" — he thought happily, slowly opening his eyes...
"Well, did you see? Did you see?" — it was they — a proud squeal pierced the ears of the "soldier"; "they always come like this, and then, in the park, the first time, the same"...
"And who was it?" — the "soldier" exhaled unexpectedly in someone else's voice, feeling that he could no longer extract anything from memory by thinking"...
"Why, it was 'Lüshiyang' and 'Zhang Baishi' who visited you personally" — cried out discontentedly the first traveler, making incomprehensible passes over the "soldier"...
"And where am I?" — the "soldier" continued his line of non-distinguishing...
The first traveler grinned contentedly and said:
"Well, now you are a real soldier, ready for second-level instructorship" — and added mysteriously: "Dreams come true"...
Artemyev D.A. "The Children" of "Patriarch Lü" (based on "The Golden Calf").
On reception days, in the residence of Guan Yu, there had lately been a stir. And today, too, the first petitioner was already hovering at the door from early morning.
— Whom do you want? — asked the secretary sitting at the desk by the door. — What do you need the venerable one for? On what business?
— Personal — he said dryly, without looking back at the secretary, and thrusting his head into the door crack. — May I come in?
And, without waiting for an answer, he approached the writing desk:
— Good day; do you not recognize me?
The venerable one looked wearily at the visitor and declared that he did not recognize him.
— Really, you don't recognize me? And yet many find that I am
strikingly like the patriarch.
— We all want to resemble the patriarchs — said Guan Yu impatiently. — Come to the point; people are waiting in the reception room.
— The whole matter is, which patriarch — the visitor remarked sadly. — I am the grandson of Patriarch Lü.
The chairman was embarrassed and half rose. He vividly recalled the famous appearance of the patriarch, known for his unusual attainments and unprecedented spiritual feats.
While he was gathering his thoughts in order to ask the petitioner a question befitting the occasion, the visitor was surveying the furnishings of the office with the gaze of a discriminating buyer.
— It is very good that you have come — said Guan Yu at last.
— I will immediately inform the patriarch of your appearance. Are you passing through, or staying long?
— Yes, passing through, but I am in a hurry and would not like to trouble the patriarch unduly; it is only a matter of recognizing rights. Just put a signature on the right of inheritance, and after discussing the details I would like to withdraw; I have a retreat.
The venerable one, unexpectedly for himself, smiled sympathetically and said:
— I understand; there has been no shortage of illnesses lately... Tell me, do you yourself remember anything of Lü's teaching?
— Vaguely, vaguely — the visitor answered. — Well, I don't really need it; I am, you know, a practitioner myself.
— Forgive me, but what is your name?
— Lü... the True Lü. Or Lü of the true Tao...
— And your patronymic?
— "Oh, how awkward!" — thought the visitor, who himself did not know the name of his father.
— We-ell — he drawled, evading a direct answer — nowadays many do not know the names of heroes.
Suddenly it dawned on him: — My father's name is Lü the Unknown, or the Elusive. But he communicates exclusively with me. I ended up in your city quite by chance, actually. A road mishap. I was left without a hryvnia. That, in fact, is why I need the rights to the inheritance.
Guan Yu was very glad of the change of subject:
— What did you say? Without a hryvnia? That is interesting.
— Of course, I could turn to private individuals — said the visitor — anyone would give it to me, but, you understand, it is not quite convenient from the Taoist point of view. The grandson of the patriarch — and
suddenly asks a private person for money...
The grandson of the patriarch pronounced the last words with anguish.
The venerable one listened anxiously to the new intonations in the visitor's voice. "What if he's a fit-prone one?" — he thought — "there'll be no end of trouble with him".
— And you did very well not to turn to a private person; we only need to sort out a few moments before entering into the inheritance.
First of all, we must understand what you will do with it, since the inheritance is not only rights, but also obligations...
That has all been decided already, — the visitor interrupted him, — I and my students will recreate the ancestral school — under the names Dezhen, Zhende, Daozhen, and so on; we haven't yet chosen which name to settle on; the retreat will show...
Well then, — Guan Yu's eyes fixed intently on the petitioner — and what proof could you present to attest to your kinship?
He did not have time to finish when, behind the office door, there sounded a stomping and a restraining exclamation from the secretary.
The door hastily opened, and a new visitor appeared on the threshold.
— Who is in charge here? — he asked, breathing heavily and darting lecherous eyes around the room.
— Well, I am — said the venerable one.
The one who entered fell to his knees and began to beat his head against the floor with exclamations of "I believe in him" and "Blessed is he, for we are with him".
— Is that all? — asked the venerable one, having barely broken through the repeated cries.
— I have a legion of such; is that not enough? — the visitor began to lose patience. — What else do you need?
— I would like to hear the testimony of worthy people; who could confirm this? — Guan Yu made a sign, and the one who was beating disappeared from the office...
The visitor thought for a moment.
— Eh, a pity my teacher Lü the Elusive never comes out "of seclusion"; he could certainly... Well, except that once I was passing through a certain city and, in a park, an old woman, seeing me, cried out "he's certainly a blessed one" when I began to do there the wushu gymnastics movements I had learned from cassettes.
— Yes, that is a bit little; maybe you'll remember something else?
— What is there to remember; the people have come to believe in me, what more is needed. Everyone repeats that I look like him, so the rumors are not from nowhere... By the way, I would like to clarify the size of the inheritance; they say the immortals have such "doubles", and if one imagines that each double has his own property, then just think what hryvnias come out of it... — at these words the visitor languidly rolled his eyes in anticipation...
The venerable one was already about to call the secretary, so that he would help lead the guest out, when suddenly his gaze was drawn by a large photograph of the visitor, pinned to his chest.
— And why do you wear this? — he asked curiously.
— I am fond, you know, of my own photographs; the students say that they "remove karma" and "change lives". There is something in it, and I myself like to admire them; it cleanses one, you know, of vain thoughts. One so wants to resemble oneself; I sometimes even quietly envy myself... Well, and what about the inheritance?
Wait outside the door; I must inform the patriarch of your claims. And meanwhile I will receive the next visitor...
The guest withdrew into the reception room, and a new stranger barged into the office:
— Greetings, Venerable — barked the newcomer, extending a spade-shaped palm. — Let us get acquainted. The son of Patriarch Lü.
— Who, who? — asked Guan Yu, staring.
— The son of the great, unforgettable hero, Patriarch Lü — the newcomer repeated.
— Like that same Lü the Elusive? So you've come out of seclusion after all... But here sits a comrade — your son, Lü... the True Lü. Or Lü of the true Tao.
And Guan Yu, in complete distress, pointed at the first visitor, whose face suddenly acquired a sleepy expression.
A ticklish moment arrived in the lives of the two swindlers. In the hands of the venerable one, at any moment, the long, unpleasant sword of Nemesis might flash. Fate granted only one second of time for the creation of a saving combination. Terror was reflected in the eyes of the son of Patriarch Lü. His figure began to blur, lost its formidable contours, and now decidedly inspired no respect. A nasty smile appeared on Guan Yu's face.
And then, when it already seemed to the son of the patriarch that all was lost and that terrible wrath would now fall on
his red-haired head, salvation came from the pink pouffe.
— Papa! — cried the grandson of the patriarch, jumping up. — Do you recognize the son of the true Tao?
And the grandson embraced the secluded ancestor.
— I recognize you! — exclaimed the seeing Elusive. — I recognize my own dear blood!!!
The happy meeting was marked by such tumultuous caresses and embraces so extraordinary in strength that the "papa" emerged from them with a face pale from pain. The son, in his joy, had squeezed him rather hard.
Embracing, the little family cast sidelong glances at the venerable one, from whose face the vinegary expression did not leave. In view of this, the saving combination had to be developed on the spot, replenished with everyday details and with details of Lü's deeds that were new to the World Taoist Association. Holding hands, the father and son sank onto a settee and, not taking their flattering eyes off Guan Yu, plunged into recollections.
— What an astonishing meeting! — the grandson exclaimed falsely, inviting Guan Yu with a glance to join the family celebration.
— Yes — said the venerable one in a frozen voice. — It happens, it happens.
Seeing that Guan Yu was still in the clutches of doubt, the grandson stroked the papa's curls, red as a setter's, and asked tenderly:
— When did you arrive from Nikolaev, where you lived in seclusion with our Grandmother?
— Yes, I lived — the Elusive mumbled — with her.
— Why did you write to me so rarely? I was very worried.
— I was busy — the red-haired one answered glumly. And, fearing that the restless brother would at once take an interest in what he was busy with (and he had been busy primarily with sitting in the correctional houses of various autonomous republics and regions), the papa seized the initiative and himself asked:
— And why didn't you write to me in seclusion?
— I did write — the youth answered unexpectedly, feeling an extraordinary surge of gaiety — I sent registered letters. I even have the postal receipts. But you know, letters don't reach seclusion...
And he reached into his side pocket, from which he indeed drew out a multitude of stale little papers, but showed them for some reason not to his father, but to the venerable one, and from afar at that.
Strange as it may seem, but the sight of the little papers (strange, these immortals — sheer bureaucrats) somewhat calmed
Guan Yu, and the recollections of the little family grew livelier. The red-haired one grew quite at ease with the surroundings and, quite sensibly though monotonously, recounted the content of the mass booklet "Tales of Taoism". The son adorned his dry account with details of "practical retreats" and of the "channels of the preservation of life and immortality" he had discovered, so differing from the canonical ones that the venerable one, who had begun to calm down, again pricked up his ears.
— Well, and on what business have you come to us, esteemed one? — he addressed the head of the "true elusive family"...
— Well, we're here for the inheritance; I've come out of seclusion specially in order to carry out what is due... I'm recreating a school, the ancestral one, Daopai, or it is also called Paidao.
Guan Yu tensed: — Permit me, but just now your son mentioned altogether different names — the venerable one glanced at his notes — Dezhen, Zhende, Daozhen — the names differ!
It smelled of a frying pan in the air. Suddenly the son flopped to the floor and began to lament: "I hid the secret word 'pai' in seclusion for 10 years, not of my own will, but solely for the sake of the truth, lest people, or gods, or students learn the secret word for ever and ever"...
— Well then — Guan Yu began to tire — wait in the reception room, both of you... Until the decision is made...
The son and father had only just left the office when the door swung open and the next petitioner penetrated the room. Pressing his hat to his greasy jacket, he stopped by the desk and introduced himself:
— The founder of the Zhenpaidao movement, son of Patriarch Lü and brother of Patriarch Zhang.
The venerable one lost the power of speech: "Rather too many Lüs for one day... When at last Patriarch Lü answers my inquiry, they'll have filled my whole reception room..."
He had not had time to think this when the secretary entered and reported: "Venerable one, two papers have come addressed to you; here is their content: 'Patriarch Lü has no such children and grandchildren' and 'In various regions outside the Celestial Empire, a surge of pseudo-messianism has been recorded under the name of our patriarchs. I ask you to take urgent measures.'"
A spark flashed in Guan Yu's eyes, and instantly two stalwart guards appeared in the office. One seized the "new son" by the arms, the other by the legs, and all of them vanished rapidly.
Guan Yu felt relieved: "He won't show up for a long time now; and where are those two, the 'grandson and father'?" — he swiftly went out into the reception room. The secretary turned pale and squeezed out: "They heard our conversation and, apparently, hid".
— Hid where? Bring them back at once! — the venerable one liked to see things through to the end.
A fax sounded, and the secretary handed Guan Yu a paper with the text:
"We have gone into seclusion and retreats; we do not insist on Lü's inheritance; we agree to any other; we invite you to lessons: whoever brings a person with him practices free for a month, whoever brings the secretary of the reception room practices free for half a year, whoever persuades the venerable one practices free for a year; we are ready to accept any donations from people and immortals..."
"Yes" — thought Guanjong — "times go by, but people do not change; only before this outrage was within the Great Wall, and now it crawls outside; here too one must keep watch... Temporary measures will not help; one must petition for the closure of the residence and its transfer to the upper worlds; the true ones will reach us anyway..."