December 10, 2003

 

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. al cultivation, legends of

In the Pagoda

Mathew Little
OP Contributor

In the Pagoda is a new
Column in the Other Press. It
will feature stories of spiritu-

enlightened beings, articles
about new science that
challenge old conventions,
and more.

This section is named in
honour of the Little
Swallow Pagoda, which
lies south of*Xi’an City,
China, in the center of
Jianfu Temple. It is a typ-
ical Buddhist pagoda
with multi-layer dense
eaves. It is called the
Little Swallow Pagoda because
it is three kilometres away
from the Big Swallow Pagoda
and is also shorter in height.

The Little Swallow Pagoda
was constructed during the
reign of Emperor ‘Tang
Jinglong (707-709 AD). The
pagoda is 45 metres tall and
has 15 levels. Its design is one
of the most commonly seen
styles of construction during
the Tang Dynasty. Legend has
it that the pagoda was built
after Buddhist Master Yijing
applied in writing to the
throne for funds to build a
pagoda in order to store the
treasured Buddhist scriptures
brought back from India.

The exquisitely elegant
Little Swallow Pagoda stood
in contrast with the magnifi-
cent and solemn Big Swallow
Pagoda. This brick pagoda is
almost like a spindle in shape,
43.38 metres in height.
Horizontally, it is square in
structure with each lateral
11.56 metres in length.

Under each eave, two layers
of water caltrop shaped beaks
were built to form the multi-
ple eaves and sectioned ter-
races—valiant and beautiful.
The entrance is framed with
dark stones decorated with the
delicate refined carving of the
Tang Dynasty. The pictures
above the entrance show peo-
ple offering provisions to
heavenly beings, which reflect
the respect and worship of
ancient people to Buddha.

Weathered by rains and
storms over hundreds of years,
the legend has it that Little
Swallow Pagoda was once
fused back together by gods.
In the 23rd year of Emperor
Ming Chenghua’s reign (1487
AD), an earthquake took
place in Shaanxi Province.
The carved records on top of
the entrance state, “In Ming

Chenghua’s =. 23rd

year,

 
 
  
 
   
  
 
 
 
 
 
 

Changan (today’s Xi'an) had
an earthquake. The pagoda
cracked from the top to the
bottom, a foot wide, and open
like a window. Passers-by
could clearly see it. At the end
of Ming Zhengde’s reign, the
earth shook again. The huge
crack completely disappeared
as if gods had fused the
cracked parts back together.”
In the later years to come, two
more similar phenomena hap-
pened. That a brick pagoda
could sustain earthquakes
without collapsing and even
resume its original status is
definitely something miracu-
lous.

Today’s people have discov-
ered that ancient builders
observed the geological condi-
tions in Xian, and construct-
ed the pagoda’s foundation by
tamping it into a hemisphere,
which enabled the pressure
from the quake to evenly dis-
perse. The Little Swallow
Pagoda is like a “tumbler” (a
toy figure with its lower body
resembling a hemisphere that
wobbles but never falls), sur-
viving more than 70 earth-
quakes and still standing as
firm as a rock.

Perhaps some of us feel like
the Little Swallow Pagoda,
like the Earth has shaken and
we have been cracked down
the middle. Maybe some of us
have also felt that there is
something out there, some-
thing powerful and benevo-
lent, and it can help us fuse
ourselves together. This col-
umn is dedicated to remind-
ing us that like the Little
Swallow Pagoda, there is
something deep in our being,
at our very base, that gives us
the ability to keep standing no
matter how hard the Earth
shakes.

For articles, suggestions, or
to receive “In the Pagoda” arti-
cles in your email write to
rectify@ziplip.com

 

Dear Telus:

Ted Morrison
OP Contributor

“I am no longer surprised at the
deficiencies of Telus service. Just
disappointed. The more so
because I’m certain the person
reading this is working very hard,
while the ship sinks about them.”

The sentence above appeared in
a message I sent to Telus from the
feedback area of the mytelus.com
website. It was actually the last
sentence in the letter. The rest will
take some explaining.

I own a 1964 Harmony guitar,
which I purchased at Barry’s
Guitar and Barbershop in Vedder
Crossing, a little suburb of
Chilliwack. Barry’s a great guy and
I wanted to drop in on the week-
end and kibitz a little. But I don’t
have his business phone number,
and didn’t feel like getting raped
for a dollar by calling directory
assistance from my home phone.

Last year, Verizon Jr., I mean
Telus, decided that they would no
longer provide directories for the
Greater Vancouver area.
Residential customers would now
get only the directory for their
home municipality. This was part-
ly justified by the assertion that
most households in the GVRD
now have internet access, and that
therefore customers could avail
themselves of the mytelus.com
website directory service.

My journey started well enough.
I got the address wrong—I'm still
punching in mybc.ca, but the redi-
rect worked brilliantly, and I got to
the mytelus.com homepage. The
menu was good, and I quickly
found the “Directory” page.

There I found a new form. This
page asked me to fill in blanks
under “canadian people finder,”
“canadian business finder,” or
“british columbia blue pages.”
That's how they were spelled by
the way—no capitals. I guess
being quasi-literate is cool in
telecommunications? Or maybe
its a slip that shows how Telus
feels about us unwashed masses.

On the “business” form, I filled
in category blanks related to
“Province,” and “City.” “Business
Name” I left blank, as I wasn’t cer-
tain what Barry's place was called
these days. Then I looked at the
“Category” space.

I clicked “Browse Categories,”
then found “Arts, Music, Books
and Photography” on the list (Isn’t
it amazing how they capitalize
everything except “Canada” and
“British Columbia?” I really think
that’s an attitude indicator).

Under the AMBP listings |
found and_ clicked on
“Instruments.” This took me back
to the business finder form. I filled
in the “City” blank with “Vedder

Crossing” and the “Province”
blank (from the list) with BC.
Then I punched “Find It.” The
response I got was: “Sorry. The
category “Music instruments” and
the city “Vedder Crossing” could
not be found.”

An accompanying list of things I
could have screwed up included
spelling, modifying my category to
be more general than “music
instruments” (a category I selected
from a Telus list) and using “offi-
cial postal service names for cities
and towns.” I guessed the postal
service, which reliably delivered
mail to Vedder Crossing for

 

decades, probably had the name
written down somewhere.
Nonetheless I grumbled and
changed “Vedder Crossing” to
“Chilliwack.” The — response:
“Sorry, the category “Music instru-
ments” could not be found.”

Now remember—I picked this
category off of Telus’ list, I didn’t
invent it. This is presumably one
of the handy categories Telus may
find useful to categorize things in,
as in “Suckers” for residential and
pay-phone customers, or “more
Ca$h” for business customers, or
“better service” for what increasing
numbers of annoyed Telus clients
would politely call “layoffs.” But I
was undaunted. Why? Because I’m
stupid.

I returned to the form. I found a
link to “search by distance,” and
followed it to another form. There
I entered the self-same category
“Music instruments,” and asked
Telus to look for a business of that
type within 200 kilometres of
Vancouver. The list, I expected
would be long, but I could sort it
out fairly quickly.

Guess what. There are no musi-
cal instrument stores within 200
clicks of Vancouver. Doubtless
Long & McQuade will be horri-
fied. What’s Tom Lee up to in that
four-story building on Granville
Street? The RCMP should defi-
nitely be alerted, no?

Again, the category “Music
instruments” could not be found.
At this point, I was steaming.

http://www.otherpress.ca

“Dear Sir: I browsed your busi-
ness categories. I selected
“Instruments” from the drop-
down list. When I searched the
engine told me that the category
could not be found. As an experi-
ment, I expanded the search area
to within 200 km of Vancouver.
Same result.

Now I know that musical instru-
ment shops exist in profusion
throughout Vancouver and the
Fraser Valley. I can only conclude
your directory is of limited use.
But to be honest, Telus has contin-
ually failed to impress me. Pay
phones now charge for directory
assistance. I am charged for look-
ing up newly changed numbers. I
pay $.16 a month for 911 services
and no one has yet justified this
cost. My costs for home service
have risen, while said service has
become consistently worse.

The dirtiest manoeuvre of all is
that a telephone company partially
owned by a publisher of telephone
books—Verizon, has decided sud-
denly to fail to supply me with the
appropriate phone books for my
personal and business area—
Greater Vancouver.”

The last sentence in this letter is
the first one at the top of this edi-
torial? Rant? Whatever.

Id like to think that my mes-
sage, sent in the current climate of
panic by Telus over their less-than-
stellar service, might have motivat-
ed a few small changes. Perhaps
those in charge of the conspiracy
to defraud would mellow and
allow us the service we pay for. But
it wont, I can guarantee that.
Y’know how I know?

Two days later, a message from
Telus turned up in my “account I
use when nosy websites want
somewhere to send the Spam”
account. I was pleased that a
response had been dispatched so
quickly under such trying condi-
tions as the support people have
doubtless had to endure. Pinched
as they are between management,
and angry Telus customers
(although calling them “angry”
may be redundant, I suppose), it’s
a wonder they get anything
accomplished at all.

I opened the message, to find
inside a note from
postmaster@telus.net. The subject
was “Delivery status notification
(failure).” Let me clarify: A mes-
sage sent from a Telus webpage
(whose purpose is to solicit and
transmit feedback) to a Telus cus-
tomer service address was dumped
into my mailbox as “undeliver-
able.”

I didn’t laugh. It said it all,
really.

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