China Expat is a cultural and literary forum for expatriates interested in China and has been published by Asia Briefing Ltd since 2001. The sites resident China culture writers have included such expatriate luminaries as 
Buddha Dreams and this World of Horror
I knew I was dreaming, because everything was so vivid. Lotus petals and delicate bamboo stalks framed a small, exquisite garden. And in the center, a few paces before me, sat the Buddha. The towering sages on either side of him stood mute, staring at something ages away, but he was beaming at me as though at his lost puppy, and gestured me forward.
“Look,” he said, pointing to the small koi pond at his feet. “I will show you your Buddha Luck.” He took a light stick and struck the brass ox standing in the middle. Then he took a few quick handfuls of water and sprinkled them in the garden around the pond.
Of course! I tingled with relief and gratitude, and began to tell him of how I would use my luck in the world. As soon as I began, we were standing in an office tower, hordes of corporate cannon fodder passing by expressionless, not noticing me or the Enlightened One. He didn’t mind them, or my stratagems.
“Let me show you your Buddha Luck,” he said, and instantly we were back in the garden, where he again performed the ritual.
I lost the meaning soon after waking up, but I bought a Buddha bracelet a few days after and even wore it for a while. I also pondered the dream and decided that the Divine Fat Man and the ox must have something to do with China. The images never left me, although their true meaning continue to elude me.
As a guy who dredges up copy from any nook or cranny he can on a day to day basis, I know well that the power of the image vastly outweighs the power of the word, infinite. Alas, even the infinite turns cheap and deceitful, when it comes in a flood instead of in raindrops. Television, movie, and Internet images suck us into a dance with Kali that leaves us spinning, unable to look at something unless it’s changing every two seconds, longest.
We cannot tear our gazes away from the images, but we pretend to have a choice, and try to sort them into a frame of reference. What else can we do? So I watch news, Chinese. Satellite tube tempts me like I’m Willem Dafoe, but damned if I’ll give in, because my downtime sure will be, a Hi- definition hell of CNN and ESPN. The only thing that will move will be the images on the screen, and the trail of drool from my slack jaw.
What a goofball. I used to actually say out loud that Chinese news was all propaganda when I got here. The Internet, and meeting internationals, taught me that Chinese news might be some good ol’ homemade red-chili-flavored propaganda, but that the American Mass Media was pretty much a twenty-four hour infomercial. It just doesn’t tell us to “act now” because we already are; we already bought it. Still I try to sort it all out, all those images, both sexy and sadistic, touching and repulsive.
It’s an obsession, that constant watching and sorting. But if we all have it, is any one of us sick? Last night, I was sick of it, sick of the news, DVDs, Internet, sick of the dance. Then I noticed.
Right above my box of horrors hangs a large painting in a golden frame. It’s the visage of the Buddha. Not the Jolly Obese One. Sakyamuni. The Prince. His face is neither young nor old, fat nor thin. A light upturn at the edge of a sensuous mouth is the only indication of emotion, for his gaze is fixed past the TV below him at infinity, and his expression shows it. Peace. The Prince of Peace.
I’d looked at the picture many times, but last night I saw it, the image. And I understood enough to turn off the box. There are still horrible images to sort out, the million faces of Kali, the starving, mangy, blind Pekinese I saw approaching its death in an alley today. But Sakyamuni saw them too.
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Hang in there, buddy!
I took a left turn at Albuquerque and headed down the road to Roswell, NM; famous, of course, for being the birthplace of John Denver. Friends back home asked me which was worse, but I thought I, too, had died and gone to heaven! I have made that drive so many times! I love it. I stayed last time with my dog Capone. We stayed at an old hotel that was dog friendly. It had a casino on the main floor, so I got to walk through with my big ole Bullmastiff. It was really fun for us both.The great thing about dreams is not having a strict agenda, and being able to roll with the punches. When I die, I do not want to go to heaven and then watch the events of my life unfold on the big screen. I’m sorry, but I don’t. I’ve lived it once, and, quite frankly, a good portion of my life has been rather boring. For instance, who really wants to watch themselves sleep? Every night? For their entire lifetime? No thank you. That’s not to say that I wouldn’t like to see select moments in my life. I just want the ability to select what moments I see. That’s why I hope that when Google’s inventors get to heaven, God gets them busy designing what will come to be known as Google Life. I know that God could make it himself, but I think he’s probably got better things to do. And since the Google guys are so good at what they do. You know: Google Mail, Google Earth, Google Maps. They deserve to spearhead the Google Life project.It’s got potential, people! Think about it: You know those situations where you’re having a conversation with your mom and you say, “Remember that time when we saw John Denver at the fair?” And then your mom says, “No, we never saw John Denver. You must be thinking of someone else.” But you still feel fairly certain you saw John Denver and your mom is crazy? That’s where Google Life comes in. You type in as much information as you think you remember—John Denver concert when I was 10—and Google Life searches through your entire life and brings up relevant results. And then you watch the video version (on that big screen, with heavenly picture and sound) and you and your mom both know who is right and who is crazy. Okay, I admit it. I’d really like to have Google Life right now. I mean, my entire generation is so used to instant answers to most who, what, where, when, why, and how questions. It’s frustrating that we can’t have the same instant gratification for these questions in our own lives. However, I recognize that since God’s got exclusive access to a free and unbiased account of my life, I’ll have to wait for heaven in order to get it. Dreams are beautiful. Thanks for sharing.