Mahayana Buddhists are famous for their concept of the bodhisattva: when one has nearly achieved the perfect enlightenment that will lead to Buddhahood and Nirvana, the choice can (and should) be made to hold back and stay in the world of samsara, so that one may become a teacher to help others reach the same state: a bodhisattva. This is called the bodhisattva ideal, and many Mahayana monks take a vow that they will not enter Nirvana until every being in the Universe can reach enlightenment.

Now imagine: the time is countless eons in the future. All beings have discovered the value of enlightenment and have endured the endless cycle of rebirth to reach the final goal: all beings are now bodhisattvas and are ready to pass into Nirvana.

Except for this one guy who absolutely refuses to accept enlightenment. He does not accept the idea that the world is nothing but suffering - hell, he likes this world... quite a bit, in fact! Why let go of things like beer, sex, football, sex, television, sex, etc? As a matter of fact, he thought things were just great until these damned bodhisattvas had to go around enlightening everyone... now there's nobody to have sex with, and television is nothing but reruns.

The bodhisattvas themselves are, of course, appalled. Ages have passed, universes have been born and have died, and now countless beings await their final liberation... but they can't go until this one guy gets out of his goddamn recliner and at least tries a few breathing techniques!

Discord arises among the almost-enlightened. Numerous delegations of bodhisattvas appear before the man, first to offer compassion, encouragement, and maybe a koan or two. He is unmoved. Then it turns to guilt trips, mild scolding, even veiled threats. He tells them they're blocking his view of old Survivor reruns. Finally, they are reduced to tears, begging, pleading with him... throughout the universe, all beings grovel and weep to one slightly overweight guy masturbating to internet porn.

Then finally, he speaks. They listen.

And slowly, a trickle begins... a trickle of beings embracing the path of unenlightenment: they speak of clinging to your desires, embrace their sense of self, and find that the emptiness of being can be quickly filled by cheap beer.

The ages turn, and the ranks of the unenlightened swell. And long after he has turned to dust, they still speak of him in reverent tones at the strip clubs and flea markets: That One Guy, the anti-Buddha.

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