In my art history class today, the professor introduced the numerous Buddhist hells. One scroll flaunted “The World of Screams,” where two naked women flailed unyieldingly on the ground with contorted faces as insects fed on their festering wounds. The other depicted women drowning in a sea of pus as maggots happily fed on their putrefying bodies. The professor showed us around eight more of these horrifying scenes, and interestingly, all the sinners involved seemed to be women. The professor was smiling evilly the whole time, and the more I looked (at her grinning face) and listened—the more I became convinced that I was going to hell. It was all pretty depressing. To lighten the mood I found myself singing the “Na na na batman!” song in my head. I’m really hoping that Buddhism doesn’t exist because if it does I’m definitely going to the most terrifying hell Buddhism has to offer:
It’s pitch darkness, but you can feel it watching. You feel its breath on the nape of your neck; you hear its whispered words hissed into your ear. It’s waiting. And then out it comes! A giant, fire-breathing chicken!
…Apparently this chase between man and chicken is the eternity doomed to us meat-eaters.
I’ve learned one other thing; women are seen as “Eves,” sinful temptresses, in almost every religion. Buddhist monks would hang scrolls illustrating the slow decomposition of the beautiful woman’s body until the pus-filled, rotten body is finally eaten by mangy beasts and crows. This image seems to help Buddhist monks get over their desires for women and their subsequent erections.
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In my English class, my professor made the offhand comment: “We are all minor characters. But we are all Hamlets to ourselves.”
Some days are hard, some days are easy. The days that had once passed by so quickly with another now pass equally slowly. Regardless, time passes by.
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