Wednesday, 17 October 2012

I hate everyone... starting with anger management fascists

"Psychologists tell us that depression is just anger turned inward, but I say, why waste your time? It is what it is and quite frankly I'd rather be angry than depressed. Why? Because antidepressants like Prozac, Wellbutrin and Zoloft can cause bloating... and I hate bloating!!!" - Joan Rivers

Gotta hand it to Joan. She tells like it is, no fluff, no shri, no sugarcoated shit sandwiches. I wonder what she'd say to some womanizing pretentious doughy manipulative abusive cult-loving lying cheating asshole guru named John.

Recently two well known yoga teachers, Spicy Hello Kitty and The Yogi Muse, wrote about anger but from two different perspectives. I, Sarcastic Yogi, figured I'd throw in my two cents, not that what I say carries as much weight, nor would I put myself in the same league as they are... shit, I'm like a dung beetle compared to Spicy Hello Kitty and The Yogi Muse. I love shit. I embrace shit. I am the embodiment of shit. I can't live without shit. But that's a different conversation.

A while back I taught a little show-n-tell about yoga at work and got gently reamed out by a local teacher because of it. You can read about it here. Not to open an old wound... trust me, I'm going somewhere with this blog. I don't shoot blanks.

So yes, I was angry when I wrote it. If yoga were meant to get rid of anger, it certainly wasn't working. Hmm... I must be doing it wrong! I was supposed to be all zen and compassionate and lovey dovey like a hippie high on love and marijuana... Oh my loin! Bless me, guru, for I have sinned! I failed to repress my anger! Hot damn, I am not yogic because I was angry! I failed yoga! Baaaaah!


What's yoga? What is yoga in the Western world? What is yoga in the Western world now? Yoga in the Western world 20, 30 years ago was a very different thing. Back then "inspired" was not a designation that required a licensing agreement. There was no "Yoga Journal conference" or "Wanderlust". There was no Manduka super black mat or Evolution jar of pubes. "Yoga for golfer" or "something something yoga dot com inc." was practically unheard of.

Today yoga is sexy. It's where people go to hook up or recruit coven angels. It's about a room full of sweaty tight toned bodies in skimpy tight Lululemon shorts. It's being groomed to be a competition event in the next Olympics. It's about branding, franchising and selling your pubes in jars. It's about getting a title like "Swami Springer Sisters", or "Guru Lickmyonion", or "Crusty Nono Myass". It's about showing off some crazy postures that put the Cirque du Soleil dancers to shame. It's a luxurious vacation in some all-inclusive resort in Barbados with hot mermaids. It's some white dude demanding to be addressed by the Hindu name he picked. Shit, if all fail, create your own cult religion, or copyright your ass movement sequence and call it "the roots" "the vomit".

Hmm... that doesn't sound very sexy at all.

Fast forward...

Some of us have been labeled as non-yogic because we have the ability to feel anger.

Sunday, 14 October 2012

Random and unsexy thoughts

Here it goes... I'm turning 21 today. Yeah, I know, it's hard to believe Sarcastic Yogi is already in his 20s and is such an international sensation shit. On this auspicious shri grace-filled day, I invite you to ask yourself these questions:
  1. Would you date "you", as in, if you were a third-person in the conversation, would you date "you" in an non-narcissistic, non-masturbatory way?
  2. If yes, why?
  3. If no, why?
  4. Who would attend your funeral? Who wouldn't? Why?
  5. Those who would attend your funeral, what'd be in their eulogy?
Time for some more cake.

Friday, 12 October 2012

A Bollywood classic

Well, I deleted a blog I worked on for a few days by accident... baaaah! I needed to look at something inspiring to ease the pain. So here you go, the classic Indian nipple song. Spicy!