Ben wrote:It was the Christians and Muslims who appeared to have the voice of reason against the shrill yet barely concealed vituperations and childish stereotyping and chides of Hitchins.
I did catch a bit of that. But I stopped because I couldn't bear to watch--as you say--the vituperations and childish stereotyping and chides of Hitchens.
pink_trike wrote:I find many (perhaps most) of David Bohm's conclusions to coincide with the Dharma.
David Bohm, as you are probably aware, had many conversations with Krishnamurti. I know some people have reservations about Krishnamurti, but he had on several occasions expressed his respect for the Buddha. I don't know if you have seen this, Ben, but he once had a conversation with Goenka: http://www.buddhanet.net/bvk_study/bvk22c.htm
In fact, there is a study on Buddhanet examining the relationship between Buddhism, Vipassana, and Krishnamurti: http://www.buddhanet.net/bvk_study/bvk002.htm
(There is a section in the study that examines Krishnamurti's thoughts on sensations--might interest you, Ben.)
I especially like this beautiful poem that Krishnamurti purportedly composed where he expressed his devotion to Buddha (this from a man who went to great lengths to denounce all 'isms'): http://www.buddhanet.net/bvk_study/bvk22a.htm
The Immortal Friend
I sat dreaming in a room of great silence.
The early morning was still and breathless,
The great blue mountains stood against the dark
skies, cold and clear,
Round the dark log house
The black and yellow birds were welcoming the sun.
I sat on the floor, with legs crossed, meditating,
Forgetting the sunlit mountains,
The immense silence,
And the golden sun.
I lost the feel of my body,
My limbs were motionless,
Relaxed and at peace.
A great joy of unfathomable depth filled my heart.
Eager and keen was my mind, concentrated.
Lost to the transient world,
I was full of strength.
As the Eastern breeze
That suddenly springs into being
And calms the weary world,
There in front of me
As the world knows Him
In His yellow robes, simple and magnificent,
Was the Teacher of Teachers.
Looking at me,
Motionless the Mighty Being sat.
I looked and bowed my head.
My body bent forward of itself.
That one look
Showed the progress of the world,
Showed the immense distance between the world
And the greatest of its Teachers.
How little it understood,
And how much He gave.
How joyously He soared,
Escaping from birth and death,
From its tyranny and entangling wheel.
He gave to the world, as the flower gives
As I looked
At the sacred feet that once trod the happy
Dust of India,
My heart poured forth its devotion,
Limitless and unfathomable,
Without restraint and without effort.
Beautiful! If only I can weave words as he did.