Cessation of All

It has been this consistent thing of late where I see a living thing and recognizing that thing in its perpetual suffering and mortality depresses me in horrific existential crisis to my fragile core and all I want to see as a cure is the cessation of all existence.

© Ryan Scott Sanders and Dharma and Belligerence: Mad Rants from a Free-Range Buddhist Hooligan, 2015. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Ryan Scott Sanders and Dharma and Belligerence: Mad Rants from a Free-Range Buddhist Hooligan with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Just Insanity Things…

I think I might be schizophrenic. Does doubt concerning one’s own sanity itself exclude the possibility of insanity? I am definitely paranoid and delusional. As stated here before, I can identify certain things in my mind as absurd and delusional on an intellectual level, but that does not prevent me from believing these absurdities to be true, on an emotional level. It is impossible to form or maintain any sort of healthy and lasting connection with another person when the things in your mind are constantly distorting and perverting your interactions with and perceptions of everyone and everything around you. Paranoia and confusion breed frustration and I only know how to react in anger and desperation. Those closest to me suffer the brunt of my unpredictable and destructive flailing throes of madness even as I doubt the very legitimacy of their existence.  How can I make any attempts to resolve my issues when I don’t even know what’s “real”? This life is a fucking joke and I am the punchline.

I will not do what the tick tells me to…

© Ryan Scott Sanders and Dharma and Belligerence: Mad Rants from a Free-Range Buddhist Hooligan, 2015. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Ryan Scott Sanders and Dharma and Belligerence: Mad Rants from a Free-Range Buddhist Hooligan with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Misanthropic Rant Hinged on a Gypsy Dream (No Dharma Here)

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I hate people. It’s a horrible thing for an aspiring Buddhist to feel. But, I hate people. I hate their busted faces, and I hate their bullshit opinions, and I hate having to put up with their constant barrage of inane moronic stupidity. But, most of all, I hate that they are goddamn everywhere and that I have to live among them. Because SOCIETY.

SO. The plan.

1.))) Make some money.
2.))) Learn how to save money.
3.))) Purchase a caravan.
4.))) Trick that bitch out, ultimate gypsy wanderlust road warrior style.
5.))) Plug in the Gogol Bordello discography for perfect rubber trampin’ ambiance.
6.))) Live on the road and/or in glorious hermetic seclusion the fuck away from everyone as much as possible.
7.))) Work on my “attitude problem.”

This may take some time, but I’m in it for the long haul! Also, I should maybe move the “attitude problem” thing up a few notches in priority. Maybe…

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* I’ve been doing this whole #LetsBuseyThisPlaceUp thing on the Books of Face and that Instacrap thing. It is…ridiculous. 🙂

© Ryan Scott Sanders and Dharma and Belligerence: Mad Rants from a Free-Range Buddhist Hooligan, 2015. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Ryan Scott Sanders and Dharma and Belligerence: Mad Rants from a Free-Range Buddhist Hooligan with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Misplaced Indignation

All day, the internet has been up in arms over a depiction of rape that occurred on a fictional television show last night. A show that is no stranger to intense and disturbing content, mind you. Still, fans and critics alike have been passionately and vocally outraged over the incident.

Meanwhile, in the United States a sexual assault happens about every minute or so, depending on the source for statistics. About 80% of those sexual assaults are at the hands of someone the victim knows. About one in four women will be sexually assaulted in her lifetime. And only about 20% of sexual assaults are actually reported. Exactly ZERO of these rapes happen to fictional characters.

Hey, Public. Hey Internets. How about you people express some moral and emotional outrage over something that actually fucking matters?

National Sexual Assault Hotline 1-800-656-4673

Rape and Incest National Network (Including Online Hotline)

Click here for other national hotlines, helpful links, and information for victims of crime.

Rantings on Madness with a Dose of Damn the Man

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After months of dealing with paperwork, questionnaires, waiting in lines, hours on hold on the phone, ridiculous inquiries, bullshit red tape, and other fucking ridiculousness, I still am no closer to obtaining health insurance. I have no idea what is going on with my mental health disability claim, and am at a loss of who else to try and contact. All avenues explored for low-income or no-income access to medical and/or mental health treatment services have been a fucking flaccid cock suck. I am too broke to afford food for my dogs. And I can’t even get hired at goddamn shithouse Target or fucking Wal Mart.

THIS. THIS is why motherfuckers snap and lash out in horrific, destructive violence. Fuck my life.

I’m throwing a self-pity party, and you all are invited. Bring cake you fuckers.

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Then, later….

So.

Around the same time that I started trying to get that good government-funded insurance coverage at the beginning of February, I also filed a claim with the Social Security Administration for mental health disability. Anything to get a little assistance while I try and un-fuck my mind.

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Just as we were about to move to Cheyenne at the beginning of April, I finally saw some movement on this when I got a call from a representative at the Tucson SSDI office. They needed to schedule an evaluation with a head shrinker to determine if my Crazy is legitimate. However, this appointment wouldn’t be happening until the start of May, by which time I planned to be nestled snuggly in the springtime snow drifts of Wyoming.

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Of course, this creates a problem. And the government minions in Tucson have no powers of influence outside of their own little Sonoran desert bubble, so the entire case would have to be put on hold and transferred to the Cheyenne SSDI office for further processing. Sure, whatever, just get it done. “Someone should be calling you in a couple of weeks,” I was assured.

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Here we are, six or seven weeks later. Fuck all. So I call the local Social Security office to check in, find out what’s what, see if I can do anything to move this along. Lo and behold, it turns out the fucking case was never even transferred from Tucson. It has just been sitting in limbo this entire time that I have had a thumb jammed up my ass to try and keep the Crazy from leaking out too much.

Fuck you, Government. Your shit is ABSURD.

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Oh, and I forgot to mention. It’s not that I don’t want to work. I have had several interviews over the last several months, in both Tucson and Cheyenne, for jobs I would have been proud to work. The interviews start off great. By the end of them, I have devolved into a bumbling, anxious, sweaty mess that can barely utter a comprehensible sentence. Call me crazy, but I suspect that might have been a factor in me not getting hired…

BitchFest over. For now. 🙂

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But first, for good measure….

In my madness, I am actively trying to alienate most or all human meat popsicles from my life. I’ve managed to purge several high profile carcasses so far this year, and there have been a few unplanned casualties. But all that means is we clearly need to step it up a notch!

Still chock full of irreverent sarcasm, however. We’ll need plenty of that to be in this thing for the long haul…

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© Ryan Scott Sanders and Dharma and Belligerence: Mad Rants from a Free-Range Buddhist Hooligan, 2015. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Ryan Scott Sanders and Dharma and Belligerence: Mad Rants from a Free-Range Buddhist Hooligan with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

To Attempt Openness

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Image by Andrew Gable

It has been brought to my attention, by some of the more laid-back voices in my head — they had to band together in solidarity to be heard over the rest of this rabble — that, by and large and for the most part and all that, our posts on this page have been somewhat heavy on the belligerence, whilst largely ignoring the dharma.

After some careful self-reflection (which was, of course, preceded by ire, indignation, denial, and not a small amount of surly, boisterous resistance) I am inclined to agree. Actually, this imbalance is — as allegorical symmetry is so wont to do — reflective of a physical and psychic disparity of serenity in my “real life” that I have been aware of for some time. And while I am keen on reflecting in ponderous deliberation a meriad of cause and effective methodology with which to address this pervasive disquiet, the lethargic, apathetic procrastinator in me is loathe to take any real and deliberate action.

This must change. And this change must begin now. I am very much aware of the things I need to do in order to progress along this path of steady calming. It is time to stop thinking on them, to stop talking about them, to set aside my fears and reservations and actually fucking DO something.

For now, that something will be this, a two-parter:

1.))) I must practice zazen much more often, and with deliberate regularity.

2.))) I must WRITE.

There can be no peace in life with such disquiet and upheaval in the mind. The zazen is intended to address this on a spiritual level, and the writing will address it on a cathartic artistic level. And I don’t mean more of the same of what I’ve been doing, simply churning out casual snippets of egocentric musing when the mood strikes, or because I feel I need to fulfill some personal obligation to post some drivel on WordPress every day.

I need to be writing in earnest, with passionate deliberate fury, writing honestly and unabated and without fear or reservation or expectation, without even intent of having what I write be seen by eyes that are not my own. I need to be writing madly and selfishly and obsessively. I need to stop shallowly pondering meanings and themes and intent and stop attempting to prematurely ejaculate some kind of superficial, pretentious grandeur into the idea of a thing and simply fucking WRITE it (I’m speaking about my “novel” here).

And don’t forget the zazen.

And, so it goes that I will be throwing my energy into fulfilling this two-part goal in the coming minutes and hours and days and weeks. I may share some of what’s produced on here, but my focus needs to be on doing these things selfishly and with absolute self-serving intent, for now. No expectations.

That being said, I’d like to welcome a new pen to the WordPress community, a madly brilliant young lady who is also a dear friend of mine on “the outside.” Monica unleashed her blog, Musings of a Baby Tiga, upon the world only a few days ago, however if you give her a follow you are sure to be intrigued, disturbed, inspired, obsessed, and otherwise enthralled with what she and her mind have to offer. She is most certainly One Of Us…

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Image by InfernoTheRoyal

© Ryan Scott Sanders and Dharma and Belligerence: Mad Rants from a Free-Range Buddhist Hooligan, 2015. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Ryan Scott Sanders and Dharma and Belligerence: Mad Rants from a Free-Range Buddhist Hooligan with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

An Intrepid, Wandering Hermit

Goddamnit if my happiest, most serene moments of any given day don’t always come when the “rest” of the world is asleep. It’s in these moments that I can’t imagine why I would ever try to deny that fact, that I absolutely prefer to exist in solitary and apart from everyone else. It’s also in these moments that I wonder how to reconcile my antisocial misanthropic isolationism with aspirations towards a more compassionate Buddhist sense of spirituality.

The struggle is real…

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Image by Tim Burton

© Ryan Scott Sanders and Dharma and Belligerence: Mad Rants from a Free-Range Buddhist Hooligan, 2015. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Ryan Scott Sanders and Dharma and Belligerence: Mad Rants from a Free-Range Buddhist Hooligan with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

A Right Prick Rant

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Asshole Art

Image yanked from Polyvore

You’re goddamn right I’m misogynistic! I’m also misanthropic, controversial, offensive, irreverent, belligerent, empathetic, egotistical, megalomaniacal, effusive, contradictory, paradoxical, sarcastic, benevolent, largely confused, spiteful, forgiving, aggressive, lethargic, prone to rampant adjective abuse…

…and SO many other things.

Update: Such as the following, contributed by a friend, or possibly the voices in my head…

“[Also] macabre, narcissistic, sadistic, repugnant, irascible, incorrigible, indomitable, surreptitious, ethereal, immutable, perspicacious, tenacious…sorry, I would have more but my mind doesn’t seem to be working properly tonight. Maybe I’ll try again tomorrow.”

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Also an Asshole

From the self-titled album by Black Plastic Caskets

© Ryan Scott Sanders and Dharma and Belligerence: Mad Rants from a Free-Range Buddhist Hooligan, 2015. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Ryan Scott Sanders and Dharma and Belligerence: Mad Rants from a Free-Range Buddhist Hooligan with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

There’s more than one way to pleasure the beast…

Image by Bill Smith

Image by Bill Smith


Whilst pursuing various “scholarly endeavors” today, I’ve been listening exclusively to Converge’s entire discography — including splits (no fucking demos, though) — in chronological order. The experience is akin to masturbating furiously and then punching oneself in the dick just before climax, over and over again, with fluctuating intensity. And I mean that in a good way.


Les 3 Meres by David Nebreda

Les 3 Meres by David Nebreda

How important is intent in art?

Vincent Van Gogh, Wheatfield with Crows

Vincent Van Gogh, Wheatfield with Crows


These musings were initiated, in part, by the article 5 Insane Theories That Change How You See Great Works Of Art on Cracked.com.

How important is intent in art?  Are the striking visuals of Van Gogh’s paintings any less meaningful were we to discover he was colorblind?  Do the creations of an autistic individual count for less, simply because their creator cannot express meaning in a way most of us can comprehend?  There is no indication that Fernando Pessoa ever intended for his great trunk full of seemingly random musings to be seen by outside eyes, yet assembled posthumously as The Book of Disquiet, they are his most well-known and enduring work.

Image by Tom Foot

Image by Tom Foot


Visual works crafted by non-human animals are generally controversial in the pretentious art world, largely because we cannot ask their creators, “But, what did you mean by that?”  The works of street artist Mr. Brainwash are often criticized by his detractors as uninspired, devoid of originality, the products of mimicry and rote repetition, largely due to a perceived lack of depth that comes across in his dialogue.  But, does this make work from either of these worlds any less expressive, any less worthy of study or appreciation?

Who besides the artist themselves can pretend to know the mental processes involved in the creation of a visual or aural work?  Is specificity of intent or purpose even a prerequisite — or should it be — for a thing to be worthy of appreciation as a piece of “art”?

Artwork by Sam Kieth (yes, the comic book artist)

Artwork by Sam Kieth (yes, the comic book artist)


© Ryan Scott Sanders and Dharma and Belligerence: Mad Rants from a Free-Range Buddhist Hooligan, 2015. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Ryan Scott Sanders and Dharma and Belligerence: Mad Rants from a Free-Range Buddhist Hooligan with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.