Orang's Human Dreams He Is A Baby Naga

[orang37]

Orang's human had a dream that he was a baby Naga (phayanaak) named "Chawplenduayluahh," that liked to make mischief by turning over boats (like to play with boats = "chawp len duay luah"), and splashing women bathing at the river at the end of the day. Orang realized his human's dream was in fact a fractal matrix of quantumly entangled metaphysical half-truths from which the following "mantric invocation of rain" crystallized out, catalyzed by an overdose of soy-milk :

"Little Phayanaak Chawplenduayluahh, Sublime Serpentine Watery Ophid floating half-asleep in the Oceans of Samsara around the wall that separates Tavatimsa Heaven from the Realms of Creatures and Men,

This Imperfect Vessel, Orang, a hybrid of a once imprisoned Orangutan, and an ignorant foreigner from a modern, prosperous, vast, crowded, but empty-hearted land, dares to Salute Thee and Beg You to rise from your Divine Slumbering in which your dreams of the countless Lives of the Buddhas secrete your Magick's Essential Power, Refine it, and, finally, Distill it into the Amritsa and Soma of your Mercy and Compassion ...

Forbear and Forgive, Great Ouroboroan, Sweet Equatorial Torrential Talisman, these few twisted and deformed words this Vessel of Impurity and Defects places before you. They are but the troubled surface of water made muddy by the crossing of water-buffaloes returning home; they are the stains of moths eaten by geckoes on white-washed temple walls.

It is not your Divine Mischief this bourgeois simpleton busker invokes with these particular pathetic strings of verbs and nouns. No, This Muddied Cup of Discarded Water, does not presume to ask for You to rise and twist your magnificent beautiful tail and slam it down hard and cause the Ping, the Kok, the Mekong, the Mae Lau, to suddenly flouresce with vibrating eddies, loosening the sarongs of the women bathing in the early evening so that the sight of their pert breasts ... and those so-ripely fallen emblems of motherhood and long labour also ... distract and disturb the young men who should be thinking about making rockets and sompuay water for the Day of the Flowing Away of Experience.

It is Your Beneficence, as Blessed Intermediary between the Worlds of Plants and Trees and Rock and Water, and those Other Worlds (which some call "Higher," and others know better than to call anything but : "Anything"), such Worlds as the World of Evanescent Desire, the World of Temporary Infatuations, the Domains of the Falling Away of Self Through Obsession with Another ... in the form of Rain ... we seek ...

Pretty Please, more ... Rain."

Yes, operator, this is a collect call.

~o:37;

Edited May 3, 2010 by orang37

[BigWheelMan]

Bladdy ell, I`d hate to have a conversation with you, my brain urts.

Anyway, man, peace on you.

BTW, you`re not red Indian by any chance?

[ThaiPauly]

Stroll on

[whiterussian]

So mote it be!!

Especially... cause the Ping, the Kok, the Mekong, the Mae Lau, to suddenly flouresce with vibrating eddies, the loosening the sarongs of the women bathing in the early evening so that the sight of their pert breasts ... and those so-ripely fallen emblems of motherhood and long labour also distract and disturb the young men who should be thinking about making rockets and sompuay water for the Day of the Flowing Away of Experience...

Edited May 3, 2010 by whiterussian

[dave2]

orang37

re .... Pretty Please, more ... Rain."

you might get your wish tonight as ive just seen two flashes of lightning over doi suthep and thats where the wind is coming from

dave2

[harrry]

Hope the other half of you wasn't too frigtened by the naga.

[Thakkar]

Orang, you're a miracle worker. It's raining heavily right now in Sansai Noi.

Not bad for a long-winded collect call.

pert breasts ... mmmm

[greasemonkey]

I dunno which is funnyer, The collect call or the replies.

"stroll on" Ha ha ha.

[CMX]

Orang,

I never considered at all the possibility that your soy milk was fermented. As an abiding image, water is a good solvent for the blending of cultures and pictures provided. One day I might learn enough about Buddhism, Hindu influences, and Thai culture to elevate my imagination, if not dreams, to shimmer too.

And so the prayer. But among the familiar (desires in particular just before the phone call), I could not place "Ophid." That is, I knew from somewhere in a sense, but wondered where you'd found it - and how it fit except poetically. (In spite of what I guess about the derivation, it pleased me as a nexus.)

Anyway, I was immersed, thanks.

As for the rain, I wish with and for the farmers for its blessing.

Edited May 3, 2010 by CMX

[jackr]

<deleted>. Wish I had time on my hands.

[WinnieTheKhwai]

Jesus F.C. on a stick...

Edited May 4, 2010 by WinnieTheKhwai

[CMX]

There ought to be a room in every house to swear in. It's dangerous to have to repress an emotion like that.

- Mark Twain, a Biography

Under certain circumstances, urgent circumstances, desperate circumstances, profanity provides a relief denied even to prayer.

- Mark Twain, a Biography

--------------

I agree with Twain. Because I'm so ignorant about Buddhism, local stories and myths, it took a while to look up a number of references in the story.

But once I felt that I "got" the tale, I was rewarded. To me, it made a very attractive "conceit," with some nice ideas. Plus, as everyone agrees, it offered pretty pictures.

Sorry to have been disobliging. I had meant only to compliment the author.

[orang37]

Sawasdee Khrup, Khun CMX,

Thankee kindly for quoting Mark Twain ! Serendip : we just absquatulated [1] out of finishing the excellent biography of Twain by Ron Powers.

In our humble opinions, the authors were chuffed nicely and warmly by your kind words in response to our hymnodic rhapsody in the key of Omega Minor using the "farang bai lao" scale with one-hundred-and-eight divisions within the octaves (two squared times three cubed equals one-hundred-eight), but no octaves.

We do note a disturbing tendency in our human component to interpret anything as a compliment in spite of his being exposed, frequently at high levels of serendipitic radiation, to this seminal teaching of Ur-Orang :

"What other people tell you: 'you are,' is as unimportant as what you are telling yourself 'you is' right now."

PM us, please if you wish to know the two books in English (both out of print, but sometimes findable in local CM second-hand book emporia) from which some of the "ritual" language, and Naga lore, was "absorbed and then mutilated" under the "poetic license" open-source Geneva conventions regarding the treatment of languages captured in war, but which have not surrendered.

best, ~o:37;

[1] Absquatulate and Sockdolager

Edited May 5, 2010 by orang37