The Recalcitrant Meditator

Sunday, January 11, 2015

Session 46: And a mustache shall lead them

In today’s column, Jonny Sava discusses why we should not mistake the parts for the (w)hole.

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Challenging nature itself – Captain Crook – Vicars and tarts – Last bird on earth – Trains across the sea – Hairy, you’re a beast – Future ex-clocks of America


Dear The Recalcitrant Meditator,

Recently, I took my son, Chas. Mercy, to the newly remodeled Burger Baron on West Grand Avenue, where he loves to repose in the fantastical playland they’ve set up out back. You know what I’m talking about—it’s the one replete with all the well-known characters of our childhood, such as Baron Burger, Viceroy McBiscuits, the Fried Guys, the Hot Doggler, Rupert the Sexy Chicken, Grumpus, and Richard Widmark, as “the Mangler.” Like so many of his peers, Chas.…

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Wednesday, December 24, 2014

Session 45: The Ephemeral Artery (or, Auditioning for the End of Civilization)

In today’s column, Jonny Sava cautions a reader against clinging too tightly to “the habit of mindfulness” by relating a holiday tale, and goes on to suggest that two breaths are better than one.

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 Between the devil and the deep blue seizure – When slights are slow – I’ve grown accustomed to your taste – Gibletting – Rage of the age – I feel petty – Lullaby of birdland.


 Dear The Recalcitrant Meditator,

In the recent run-up to Thanksgiving, that day of days when stress seems to feed on the flesh of the living like a succubus, I started meditating extra hard, double-time, occasionally blacking out from the strain.…

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Wednesday, June 25, 2014

Session 44: Venal Equinox

In today’s column, Jonny Sava advises a reader to appreciate “the extraordinary possibilities for some genuine satisfaction in the commonplace facts of our bodily mortality.”

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The loneliness of the long-distance gunner – Nice scream, astronaut – Cuplet – Supermarket seep
Nero’s expedition – After the brawl – No, the wheel was never invented.


Dear The Recalcitrant Meditator,

Recently, I’ve been having this freaky, recurring dream. In the dream, I am a middle-aged man, a little older than I actually am today, when awake. Furthermore, my father is not who my father is in my waking life—i.e., Butch Mercy, renowned inventor of Goat Glue™, the only glue that works on goats—but instead, an international banker obsessed with downhill skiing.…

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