BARAKA BASHMENT

Some of these next few are repeats but updated as I am putting together a manuscript. A number are brand spankin’ newbie.

Do you not see that all creatures
in the sky and on earth glorify God—
even the bird on a wing?
Each one knows its prayer and manner of praise.
Qur’an 24:41

The outline of the human figure is often hard to perceive. The farther one stands the more blurred our once pristine reference becomes as it merges into innumerable Others. And yet, approaching the Other gives us a similar lack of outline. The closer we investigate—the deeper we dig—the human skin once again loses interest in its definition and dissolves into a deviant migration from one atom to the next. Tendon yields to wormhole yields to the unnamed. The human being! The assumed form of context and experimentation.

However, the irreducible rarely remains as such. Always a work in process, this culmination of interest, ecology, language, salt water, and breath constantly defines and is instantaneously defined. The senses relay to the totality a category of responses. Upon utterance the deliberately almost-constitution—now a human-thing—walks with a (not always) invisible burden. This human-thing, no longer a work in process, is idolized and immersed in the corporate plasma of social admen. The continuous unfolding becomes frozen in time.

Do they seek something other than the religion of God,
to Whom all in the heavens and on earth
have submitted, willingly or unwillingly,
and to Whom they will be returned?
Qur’an 3:83

If God is (not just) the uncontainable totality of is-ness, and Islam is a peaceful surrender to the already immersed nature of the human being into this is-ness, and to be muslim (not necessarily a Muslim) is to be a person who willingly or unwillingly submits to these conditions, how than and to what does the plasma stick?

Rock. Tar sticks easily to rock. Feathers stick easily to tar. On the road to Mecca there is rock, tar, possibly feathers, and a number of road signs. One sign in particular dictates that all Muslims may stay the coarse while all non-Muslims must exit to the right. The questions one must ask are: does this sign describe anything real—anything possible? Who in the desert must really veer to the right? If a person exits to the right, does the road continue to turn right until it places the human-thing where it previously veered? Does the exit from the road to Mecca even exist? Can a person really veer in any direction? Are we not all willingly or unwillingly enveloped by the perpetual manifestations of Truth?

The world as experience exists as an infinite number of potentials. In the constructed social realm (how social this realm truly is has yet to be seen) people do in fact turn right—people whose identity does not coincide with the dominant identity construct. All non-Muslims must exit, which ironically enough includes muslims who do not bare the title Muslim™. At its best, radical monotheisms consider all beings partial to the same divine motivation, thus challenging egocentric sectarianism and categories beginning with “non.” Radical monotheism recognizes a common breath that manifests in as many ways as there are people to in fact breathe. To restrict this breath is to provide only a straw through which to suckle air, over time converting raw brainpower into a lethargic brain damage.

However, this strangling of the process-human is by no means limited to religious affiliation. The human-thing is a perpetual manifestation of the linear narrative that careens through the mind upon noticing an Other of notable interest. Atheism may strangle. Pantheism may strangle. Communism may strangle. Monotheism may strangle. Anarchism may strangle. Post-postmodernism may strangle. The common thread is the common narrative where ideological borders solidify and condemn those outside the gates to subjugation. This narrative typically plays out as such: Two people are walking towards one another at which point the mind begins to construct a flawless personal identity that in turn maintains an Other’s flawless personal identity. Here is a person doing the “business thing.” S/he is an asshole. I probably wouldn’t be able to talk to him/her about anything. They are against all that I believe and therefore is an enemy and needs to be avoided. At best I will ignore this person.

One way to even begin to recognize a subversion of this common scenario is to possibly follow this person (to whatever degree this objectifies her/him and makes him/her a goal I am not sure) and proceed to engage her/him in the most lengthy conversation possible-making sure to ask many questions. With a sense of humility the conversation may yield a transcommodified experience—one in which the minute orchestra of cellular activity is (sub)consciously appreciated. Mind you, this is not a goal. And this is certainly not an attempt to have us “get along.” Rather it is a simple practice of moving away from engaging with the representation of the Other (via film, TV, newspaper, etc.) towards engaging the Other directly, taking notice of the subtle body language. Smelling the breath. Hearing the voice among other voices. Remarking about someone’s cough. I don’t expect us to like this so-called Other, however, I expect us to recognize its humanity. It’s a very preliminary and small step with possible radical implications.

The questions still remain, however. Is talking to a stranger revolutionary? Will it lead to a global or even local dialogue? Are we using strangers for our own therapy? Have we merely fashioned them into golden calves? Is the exit from the road to Mecca an expression of samsara, a blessing, both, or neither? Maybe we should first get in touch with our loved ones. Have we listened what they have to say? Have we asked? And when they answered have we heard?

This was recorded sometime around 2002/3

Your head will be severed. Kali Ma is the severing of one’s head. She is the dying and decrepit and the fresh and newly born. She is the death-mother with an unconditional love immune to conceptualization. She is a force where one’s own release is its only means of relation. Her text is a tooth-eating teeth.

About a year and half ago I had become, what I believed to be, very close to Kali Ma (if still with boundaries and slightly voyeuristic). It began on a trip to South Africa where it was summer. D’s mother was in a new house that had a niche around the side of it carved out for me to “meditate.” I have never been a good meditator, though this personalized niche’s novel presence did manage to get a little meditation out of me for a while. Maybe in an effort to do anything but meditate, I eventually began to sing in that niche. I would wake up early, morning, and singing notes is a very pleasant thing to do. Just a series of attempted a-tonal “ah”s for the quick morning arc of the sun. “Ah” is a wild West note. It is the /a/ in Allah and the /a/ in God. It is a note for singers. It is meaningless and ready for personal meaning-making. It is the first letter of (not all) international alphabets. It is therefore mudane and not universal. It comes highly recommended.

The impulse to sing of course came from a place less mystic and more commercial—somewhere seemingly un-earth-presence-merger. D- bought me a wonderful set of “learn how to chant/sing songs of India cassettes” by Chaitanya Kabir. I gave it a shot. It stuck. I still listen to these today and Chaitanya is a wonderful known to me man.

I had since returned from South Africa and the songs to Kali had made an imprint. You will have your head severed. You will have your head severed.

Maybe a year later?

One night at around dusk I was home alone singing a song to Kali Ma: Chaimundaye. Kali Ma, Kali Ma, Kali Ma, Kali Ma. Up to this point in the year, I had been having very strong experiences while singing this song around dusk. The changing from day to night is a special time. (It’s how a person might sing at the time of the sun setting and have little fear of actually worhsipping the sun. The spiritual orthopraxis lawmakers have underestimated us I say! The Qur’an mentions three times of prayer. Of those three, two are the most talked about: morning and night. I often wish the companions wouldv’e been able to simply handle what descended through the mouth of the Prophet instead of obsessing over details. They’re like those kids in your class who used to ask the teacher why s/he didn’t give us homework. But what do you mean pray? How does one do that? Only three times? That seems like so little. Ugh. Just keep cool and be quiet I say! Just figure it out and be peaceful to one another. Erg. Thankfully the Mother-force-contradiction of the head-huntress Kali can render these naught!)

I had an immediate relationship with the head-huntress. Immediate. I still do. The manifestation of the great contradiction and the severence of fear. Often I would hear the sound of two swords slicing together. shhhhink If I sang this song while walking around town I would hear these sounds behind me. shhhhink shhhhink To me, it was the sound incarnate of the irreducible conundrum of fear and pleasance. Kali Ma apparently does not discriminate. Kali Ma cuts off your head. The head is the ego discriminator. The fear discriminator. It discerns out of fear rather than love. This is the fear-head. This is in contrast to the love-head. The fear impulse is problematized and is removed(?). Despite recent Kali wannabes playing God and severeing the heads of humans, getting your fear-head cut off is a good thing. When reconciled, this state of constant death is turned into strength. (see Buddhist &/or Samurai meditation on death).

On this particular night, however, the air was pre-storm air. It was October? and worthy of a fire. Pre-storm and deep fall mile-high mountain air is special. It is somatic. It ruptures your sense of I’m-on-top-of-the-worldness. It is bigger than you. You are smaller than the entirety of it’s its. It was a fine time to acknowledge the archetypal fearless. Big stone walls. Big glass candles. Little dusk flicker lights. It went deep.

After about five minutes of singing, I became VERY scared. The ability to hear was very much crystallized. Exact. Sound felt almost solid. I began hearing very clearly the sound of metal blades sliding against one another. shhhhink Over and over, the sound of metal on metal. shhhhinkshhhhink It was very present in the room. Between the sounds of metal there was the type of silence that is experienced as a vacuum.

shhhhink . . . . . . . . . . shhhhink

Dust can be heard. . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Spiders can be heard. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

The room itself was both silent and revealing its own minute utterances. The clinking of metal would return. It was unclear to me whether I should keep singing or just stop and get out of there.

And then the dry heaving came—uncontrollable heaving and spit. It was as if something was trying to climb out of my insides. It felt like some sort of air-demon. I kept saying in between words of the song: Get out of me. I felt like I was having a physical manifestation of ego-exorcism. I had never experienced this before. A little fear maybe. But never such a bodily response. If in fact the ego and its close relative, fear, can manifest somatically, than I would say it did so on that evening (or so my few life references have me believe). This eventually passed, though by the time it was over my stomach felt as if someone had been punching me in it for an hour.

Days later, the large house flies began to be a bit more curious of me, or at the least I became more aware of their curiosity. Were they scavenging the skin of a dead person? It didn’t feel right to shoo them away. They felt a bit different. Almost like they knew something about me that I was only partially made aware of. D- did not like the flies. She hadn’t had the experience and like me previously simply didn’t want the flies around. I however, felt they were now part of my daily experience, like angels and caught left-over body essence, AKA ghosts or spirits. Unfortunately for me, my angels hung around feces all day and threw up every time they landed. Such is the irreducible…

Not quite in the shower, but getting into the shower is when I often find myself having these This is going to be it! thoughts. By now I am old enough to realize that these are little pieces to a greater complexity of thoughts and movements (little, not flag waving) or repositionings. As such, however, I find it best to engage these ideas as if they were in fact IT so as to give them the attention they deserve, or at least necessitate to flower.

With that in mind, I want to offer something to you. Something that I have been looking into over the past year or so. It’s a somewhat forgotten, totally marginalized, more or less vehemently declared to be heretical aspect of the Islamic tradition. And yet, such is the case with me concerning most marginalized aspects of culture, it is the aspect of Islam that I find most promissing. Not for its “decadence” (or maybe deca-DANCE), but because it presents itself as alltogether anti-arrogant. It is not that I want to be heretical. It just seems that that which is often deemed heretical is often the most interesting and offers the most umpff in moving towards a personally radical/engaging lifestyle/reality construct. The little rule of thumb seems to more often than not hold true: if the “majority” reviles it, and the “majority” is boring, than that which is reviled should at least be looked into, if only out of curiosity. It’s not a hard and fast law, but sometimes something interesting pops up. Sometimes an entirely new way of engaging the world presents itself.

Introducing the Murji’ah. My first introduction to the Murji’ah was through a relatively unbiased statement that said they were those early Muslims who refused to condem either Uthman or Ali to hell fire, because frankly, how could anyone know except God. Thus they received their nom de plume “Those that postpone judgement.” I acquired this information before I quickly found out that this group has since been deemed heretics and anything they have to say is more or less irrelevant to Islamic discourse. The case being made that Murji’ah in the end had to say that a person’s “Islamness” could not be judged by their actions but only by their iman, their faith. As such, even the most reviled of humans may have a place in heaven. Imagine that!?!?!?! This basically takes the rule of intention to its logical conclusion, that if a person is acting out of love and in accordance with what they feel is best for themselves and humanity that someone like Osama bin Laden or George W. Bush could no doubt end up in the land of milk and honey. Blasphemy!!!

Not for me.

To me, and I am guessing a number of people out there, this seems the most obvious conclusion that can be made, especially in light of Divine statements like “I forgive whomever I forgive” and “I know though you know not” etc etc etc… For those of us who have actually internalized at least a fraction of the vast implications of Allahu ‘alam, God knows better, it seems only natural to align ourselves with others who understand that we are in no place to judge another person’s Islamness, especially in relationship to the laws that will govern that person’s rights. I.E. who is in the club and who is out. So for me the murji’ah are a perfect platform from which to move forward in creating a new paradigm in which the limitless nature of Allah is embraced rather than rejected and a new approach is to be developed.

It comes as no surprise to me that a movement like the Murji’ah has been completely hereticized. At the core, Murji’ah values undermine the fascist impulse to codify and regiment the borders of identity. If a person’s place within Islam can not be clearly defined, how can that person be punished when they step outside of those limited definitions? The move to not only postpone judgement of another human being, but to “defer to one’s expertise” (i.e. defer to the greatest knowledge of them all, Ya Allahu!) is an act of kindness and humility. An act of charity to humanity and a nod to the fact that in the end, we simply can not know, and those who profess that they do know the nature of another person’s complexity is by far the worst idolater of them all. For they worship their own judgement. What a pity. What boredom!

The immediate question one may ask, however, is what would a society based on these principles look like? Surely it will crumble into murder and mayhem some will say. For others perhaps only civilization a la Derrick Jensen (scroll the name for double links!) will crumble and possibly not into murder and mayhem. Are we really that base? For now I ask that we put all that aside. We are not even remotely there yet, nor are those scenarios inevitable. But may I suggest as an aside and off the top of my head (Off with his head!) that the rules governing small enclaves of mini-communities could be based on the Golden Rule AKA The Ethics of Reciprocity and mutual aid AKA not being a hoarding jerk. Maybe a law or two regarding the unacceptablity of limiting a person’s engagement with the world so long as it does not limit another person’s engagement of the world, etc etc, but I digress. Did a semi-self-proclaimed “anarchist” just speak of laws?! Come now, we’re just talking. Who knows? We’re not there yet and Allahu ‘alam.

So I am officially putting it out there. I would like to develope a Murji’ah Think Tank. I can’t do this on my own, and information on the Murji’ah is limited at best. Whether its two pages out of the 1200 pages of Seyyed Hossein Nasr’s mammoth tome History of Islamic Philosophy, or a little blip here and there in some other “The Concise History of Islamic Theology,” most of what you will find will run the likes of:

They advocated the idea of “delayed judgement”. Only God can judge who is a true Muslim and who is not, and no one else can judge another as an infidel. Therefore, all Muslims should consider all other Muslims as true and faithfull believers, and look to Allah to judge everyone during the last judgement. This theology promoted tolerance of Ummayads and converts to Islam who appeared half-hearted in their obedience. from Wikipedia

An aspect that doesn’t jibe with me is their take on the allegiance to rulers regardless of their faith. While, I don’t think a persons faith should be taken into account (ever be taken into account?) as much as their actions, I obviously contest the entire notion of a leader and allegiance to thereof and offer the envisioned essence not (indescriminate?) violence of the Hashashin (Assassins) as a possible antidote or check to Murji’ah complicity. The crime of course being the heralding of unquestioned authority.

Which brings me to another impetus for even bringing this up, which is to suggest something much more personal and mundane, but no less revolutionary. That is, the construction of a personal silsila or lineage.

More on that tomorrow insh’ Allah

Dear Baraka Bashment:

Well done! And thanks for the post! Rather “honest” isn’t it. You’ve gotten very proclamatory haven’t you. I appreciate it. I really do. A sort of “true colors” one could say. I wouldn’t say that, but certainly one could. True colors. Or rather a few colors. I’m prone to thinking “red” but that is giving you too much credit. It’s more pink-orange. Have you seen pink-orange? It just doesn’t have the same bold nature as red. It’s a bit scratchy. Like a rash. Necessary for personal growth, don’t get me wrong, but a nussiance all the same you see . . . one needs to take a few precautions when pulling up weeds. Protective eyewear, some rubber gloves. You mustn’t think yourself above rubber gloves. Do you? Do you think yourself above rubber gloves? Of course you may think yourself above rubber gloves but you may not think you are above rubber gloves. It’s important to make that distinction. Nonetheless you are a piece of the puzzle and I love you with all my smarts and that is that.

You raise a number of points. I’ll address a few of them but first I want to make a note of your language—a piece of your language that maybe you didn’t want me to pick up. Notice. A language of hope.

You said, and I remember when you were debating this statement: “Islam as an institution is unworthy of my time.” A fine statement. Really splendid. But I remember how you felt it necessary to put in the clause “as an institution.” Do you remember it? Come one now, don’t be shy. It’s OK. You are allowed to be hopeful if not full of hope. And I agree. Islam as an institution is, as you say “a hulking death.” But what this leads me to ask is: What is the other option?

It’s a rhetorical question really because I of course have an answer. The other option is pre-fascist. It may not be pre-binding, but it most certainly is pre-code. I am of course talking about I:Peace (Team Willow). islam. the verb-noun. the always already releasing of egoic efforts for God’s efforts. Do you remember such a tendency? Perhaps it’s lowercase nature slipped beneathe your radar undetected. islam can do that. Slip under your radar. Meaning: it is already there slipping by. Not to be militaristic, but it’s rather stealth. Slippery like a snake if you’ll pardon the taboo imagery.

Now. I saw that you mentioned Muhammad as the final Prophet. You were teasing me with that. I can tell. You just knew I would speak on such an arrogance. Not to me. But to some I’m sure. We mustn’t forget the some. But I’m not going to. Not now. We’re at work. But I will tell you this: What a blessing it is not to have to wait around for yet another prophet telling me/us what to do. I’m happy he’s the last prophet. A. We’ll finally be left alone. and B. it appears God feels we have everything we need. Oh I can’t resist! C. The spiritual reverts back once again on the human individual. Waiting for a prophet is future-thought. It’s certainly not present moment. And you as well as I know that the Buddhists have been trying their hardest to hip us to that concept for some time now. So let’s at least try to embrace it, no?

Oh Baraka Bashment. You are so many! You are so much! I appreciate you even if our othernesses do not. This islam says the Qur’an is all we need. The hadith is a good reference (not binding or law). And we take heart in Lungfish’s Daniel Higgs singing: “I pledge to stand at attention. I pledge to never swerve. I pledge to sing a thousand more songs. In confusion I shall serve.”

In love,
Baraka Bashment

A first step in any healthy break-up is an appreciation of the different parties’ points of view. I, being the type of person that must at least perceive the carrying out, the following through, of personal and multiple beliefs, feel that it is time to appreciate the parties within myself as they break or align themselves with ways of being in the world, namely big “I” Islam as it is incompatible with our bloody hearts. Break-ups are never “easy”, but they wouldn’t be worth our time if they were. So, below is the beginnning of a conversation with selves. It will come in installments. This is installment one. You the reader are a voyeur. I as in the others am also, in part, a voyeur. If you feel like engaging your selves by engaging our selves than by all means chime in and become a realized part of the Global Human. It’s kind of like Voltron. This is a contribution to identity (de?)construction and the dismantling/recontextualizing/problemitizing of superimpositions. A commentary on “outside” and “inside.” Or whatever floats your canoe. The idea of “coming to” a tradition from somewhere else. Where? Really? One world don’t permit.

Dear Baraka Bashment:

I think it’s time for a little rant, no?

If you may permit me to be a naughty this-is-the-way-it-is for a few moments it will allow me to get through this.

Permission granted?

Good.

I’m shocked. Really shocked. It’s an insult to you. It’s insulting. Really. It’s insulting to actually be discussing why “Islamically” the death penalty for homosexuality is NOT OK. Why waist your time with “these people”? Are you really discussing what people should be “allowed” to wear in public? Don’t you think it’s insulting? You’re a smart person. You don’t believe in any of this stuff. Certainly you find it much more reasonable to worship a statue than some invisible mystery God. At least you know where the statue stands. It’s right in front of you for goddness sake!

Muslims? The people with all the rules? You? Interested in THAT?! It’s an oppressive institution just like the rest of them. Islam as an institution is unworthy of my time. Dare I say it is unworthy of your time? Since you have permitted me to do so, if only this once, than I will certinaly say it. Islam as an institution is unworthy of your time. ALL religious paths engaged as the institutions their pundits so obsessively desire them to be are unworthy of your time and in the long run should be dismantled by any means necessary. They are a hulking death. And such a shame on this beautiful Spring afternoon to have such a hulking death encroaching on our good will to embrace and maintain a grass-stained existence. Shame on them! But in all seriousness, I think we should actively and consciously dismantle the whole lot. Top to bottom. Maybe make a few outrageous statements like: “Not only does Islam permit homosexuality, but it requires it!” and “Have you heard? Islam allows women to have sex with whomever, whenever they want. Glorious!” or “Yes you are right. We are making up definitions as we go along. ‘Marriage’ means ‘burrito’ and ‘infidel’ means ‘marriage’!” Why not? Chaos? I never knew you. And it’s very overrated I suppose. Sounds sexy, but by the time it reaches our doorstep it will have a receipt attached and a buy one get one offer in tow. So, you know, not really our concern.

(Not) just a question: Is it time to begin to rewrite the whole of it, the great garden of repose and reposition and reposess your home in a word or two related to the speaker her or hisself. Cause seriously, if I have to hear another product-of-organization “righteous” handsomely trimmed beard white-boy saying “alhumdulillahi” after everything I or someone else says I’m gonna go crazy. Seriously. Like ragamuffin style. All growly and fists in the air chanting down Babylon in all it’s manifestations. We’re gonna have to nice up the dance in a whole new way.

Now come on. You’ve got your own ideas that work. Last Prophet? Puh-leeeze. How many times do we have to hear that again?!

So tell me: Mob rules in religion doesn’t it?

In love,
Baraka Bashment.