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Chapter 7: Your Master Is Your Whole Universe

He that will not reason is a bigot, he that cannot reason is an idiot, and he that dares not reason is a husband.

The best training up to now has been marriage, if you want to attain enlightenment. But that enlightenment will be as miserable as the sources from which it is coming. I want sages who can dance, sages so innocent that they can laugh, sages so innocent that they can enjoy small things of life with such joy, sages who can live on this earth as if it is paradise, not asking for any paradise beyond. But up to now our sages have all been psychologically sick.

A little time for enjoying enlightenment.. If you cannot enjoy it forever, there is no harm in enjoying it temporarily, even for a few moments. When you laugh you all look almost like Gautam Buddhas. When you sit silently, you look like a congregation in a church!

Mendel Kravitz arrives at a cabaret club and asks the doorman who he should see to get a booking for his singing act.

“You should see the concert secretary,” says the doorman. “By the way, you’re not a hypnotist, are you?” Mendel assures him that he is not, and goes in.

The concert secretary looks up suspiciously and says, “I hope you are not going to tell me you’re a hypnotist, are you?”

Mendel assures him he is only a singer, and is sent to find the organist for a tryout. The organist likes the songs but looks uneasily at Mendel. “You don’t do any side acts by chance, do you?” he asks. “No hypnotism for instance?”

Mendel is tired of the question and demands an explanation.

“Well,” says the organist, “last week we had a hypnotist here. He was so good that he had at least two hundred of the audience in a trance.”

“What’s wrong with that?” asks Mendel.

“Nothing,” continues the organist, “but half way through his act, he fell over the microphone, hurt his foot, and yelled out, ‘Shit!’ The cleaners have only just cleaned the hall.”

Kowalski and his wife are celebrating their thirty-first wedding anniversary. As a surprise he comes home with a little monkey.

“What’s that?” asks his wife.

“It’s a monkey,” replies Kowalski. “What did you think it was? This is my anniversary present to you.”

“You are crazy!” she cries. “What are we gonna do with a monkey?”

“Well,” says Kowalski, “he’s gonna eat with us, he’s gonna sleep with us..”

“Sleep with us?” shouts Mrs. Kowalski. “What about the smell?”

“Listen,” says Kowalski, “after twenty-five years, if I could get used to it, so will the monkey.”