December 10, 2003

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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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