Some Buddhist folk would have us believe that sensual pleasure is our enemy. Seriously, they actually employ the word enemy. This idea is, as I'm sure you are aware, a steaming, stinking pile of incorrectness. Sensual pleasure is what makes us human, what makes us great, what makes us beautiful.
This morning I stepped out, a fine mist of rain brushed my face, I kicked through the last of the damp Autumn leaves. The pretty girl in the cigarette shop smiled gorgeously, the first nicotine hit my brain, soon after the first caffeine. I was awash with sensual pleasures, they made me feel alive. Without them I would have no reason to leave home.
I can imagine a serious minded young man taking on this inane advice, doing what he can to defeat his enemy by taking no joy in sensual pleasures. Invited to a dinner party he requests the hosts fry some cardboard for him. He is convinced to take one glass of wine, for his digestion. The wine warms him, he suddenly notices that Simon's friend, he thinks her name is Tiffany, is smiling at him attractively. Suddenly the cheese is lush, the fruit acidic and fresh, the nuts crunchy and salty. He feels a warmth for all humanity, something close to happiness. What he doesn't know is that Tiffany has also heeded some of the advice of the Buddhists, just some because she is middle class, and has sworn off sex so as to more readily attain enlightenment. These middle class wankers, the true home of Buddhism, are the complete middle way, taking what suits them from teachings they don't really understand.
The equivalent of Roman Catholicism, Tibetan Buddhism, would have us believe that oral sex is "misconduct", even between married couples. Their celebrity leader lama has written tracts on the subject, like a medieval pope. The whole concept of denying sensual pleasure is medieval and ridiculous. Soft thighs, scent, flavour, the union of two in ultimate pleasure, denied by some desire for a higher high. And no one truly believes it, old Tibetan monks have their way with novices as regularly as priests with altar boys, it's all talk.
The wonder of being human is that we can find sensual pleasure in so many wonderful ways. Could you live without music? Is a warm bed on a Winter's night a delight? Is the anticipation and consummation with a lover one of the greatest things that ever happened to you? What can we possibly gain by denying ourselves these joys? Some kind of boring, senseless serenity that relies on the work of others to fill it's bowl? The less enlightened folk with a lust for life build the sewers that take our shit away, the planes that fly us to each other, they cook the food that makes our mouths cry, they compose the music, they do all the things that middle class wanker Buddhists consume with pleasure whilst their lips pay service to denying sensual pleasure.
Life is a constant stream of sensual experiences. What else is it? Deny those experiences, live as if they are of no interest to you, combat your enemy, lie down and be dead now, you may as well be. Half baked, half arsed, half comprehended Buddhist philosophy is a cop out for shallow lives.
Desire honestly, fill your senses, live and love wholly, ignore those who would describe sensual pleasures as your enemy.