I bought a TiVo PVR recently, hooked it up to my various and sundry entertainment equipment, and everything was just grand. Except I started finding myself watching more TV than ever before... But that is not their fault... Their lack of even a shred of real customer service, however, earns them a place in hell. They want customers to pay money every month for their service, but are not willing to provide any real customer service in return.

I'm a technical kind of person, so I went to the tivo.com website and walked through their troubleshooting guide a few times and then called tech support. After waiting on hold for twenty minutes, I was then transfered to tech support, which promptly disconnected my call, and since it was then after their hours, I could not call back. The next day, I called again, only to have to wait yet again (20 more minutes) to be transfered to tech support which then necessitated an additional wait of 35 minutes. After all that BS, I received the rather unhelpful (or clueless, as I think of it) advice to please try rebooting the unit (one of the steps in the troubleshooting guide) yet again and to please call back. Sheesh, it's as if when I said I'd performed the steps in the troubleshooting guide, I was speaking Greek or something. Perhaps I should have tried in another language.

Utterly disgusted, I then hooked the adapter up to my Linux machine (the TiVo runs on a modified linux kernel). As I suspected, it was all good, could surf the web, etc. So then I plugged the adapter back into the tivo, re-walked through the troubleshooting steps, and dialed up tech support, yet again. Yet again, 20 minutes of muzak, and then 20 minutes on hold. The technicial at least tried to figure out the problem this time (to her credit) but ended the call with asking me to please go buy another adapter and try that. If that failed, she promised TiVo would exchange the unit.

So I go get another card, plug it in, and what do you know, same problem. So back to the phone, wait 10 minutes, transfer to tech support, wait 65 minutes, and then a tech support guy gets on the line and tries to help. I say tries, because he obviously cannot read from the notes that have been left on my account at this point. As he goes through the list, and I tell him I've been theire and done that, he gets huffy and says that the TiVo runs linux, and that the adapter working on my PC does not mean that the adapter works. I explained that I run Linux, and he parrots what the last tech said - that I need to go try another adapter. What, do wireless adapters grow on trees or something?

So I explain that I'd already tried two, and that I was told that the unit would be exchanged if the second one did not work. He refused and stated that they would not exchange out the machine for any wireless problems, no matter what. Nice.

So, left with no other alternative, I explain that I'm within my first 30 days, return the POS. He says, OK, please hold for the returns desk. ARGH!

Ten minutes later, at least the lady was very nice at the returns desk (perhaps she heard me screaming since we're in the same state and all). She explained that all the pieces need to be in the box, yadda, yadda, yadda, now go pay to ship it back to us.

So much for TiVo's being easy-to-use. Serves me right for not trying freevo or mythtv first. Heck, ReplayTV is still an option too. Not to mention the cable companies, who, incidentally, are eating TiVo's lunch. Serves the bastards right too.

In signal processing, there's this notion that noise (undesirable stuff) and signal (desirable stuff) are intermixed in the entire signal being broadcast. As such, we look at the ratio of signal to noise as a qualitative measure, with higher signal and lower noise being better. This is quite natural and entirely intuitive to my left brain tendencies. I've noticed that my noise-sense filter seems to intercept a large amount of cruft at meetings these days. It's like a buzzing noise that picks up when leaders announce grandiose campaigns, or when contributions or publications subscriptions start being discussed. Am I a bad Buddhist for patently ignoring such things? I don't think so, and here's why.

Usually I speak up and patiently dispute unreasonable things I hear in small meetings, but one gets tired after a while, and I just don't have the energy to do it in a large meeting. Not to mention that being known as a wild-card has a double-edge to it, and one must use care in order not to wound the beast into becoming defensive. The cornered animal is far more deadly than the one being gently dissuaded.

Certainly this new tendency toward lunacy has contributed to my aversion to attending "fufu" meetings like WP Gongyo, in favor of attending "real" meetings where study and practice take place. The latter activities just seems to suit me better - they refresh my spirit, and that is the whole purpose of activities in the first place. I've rediscovered the "New Members" and "Gosho Study" meetings, and "Tosos" (hour long chanting sessions for you newbies out there) are high on my do-not-miss list. Faith, practice and study - it would seem I have my bases covered. So what am I missing?

In the end, no one else is fit to judge anyway, so I guess it will do. I'll go one making my contributions to kosen-rufu the way that appeals to me, darn it. That way, I won't feel like I'm wasting my time, and yet I'll still remain positive. More or less, anyway.

The reality is, people are so disillusioned, they seek spirituality wherever they can find it. They are inherently trained in our society to distrust any other human being, so they drift aimlessly through seminal works in every religion. In doing so, they seek out small gems to quench their thirst for fulfillment. I say gems because they are rare, small, because in their restricted exposure and narrowed focus, they miss the wider view, the big picture.

I have been thinking recently along the lines of 'opening the eyes' and what that means to us as human beings. Sight, of course, is a primary sensory perception in our world. Without sight, you can live, but without sight, you can't drive (though, perhaps you could still drive better than the people around here), severely limiting your independence, and there are many other issues there as well. I mention this, because I don't think the Buddha meant that we are/were "sightless" from birth per se. Newborn puppies don't open their eyes for a while after they are born, they are virtually helpless until they reach a certain age. They are also fundamentally governed by animal instincts - they instinctively seek out their food source and cuddle for warmth, for example. However, we, as humans, make conscious choices on so many scales that I think the immaturity analogy breaks down - we simply sometimes do KNOW that what we are about to do is very wrong, and yet we set our course in that direction anyway. We can see the path ahead, we see the precipitous cliff, and yet we dogmatically march right over the ledge. (And then we express dismay, as though laws of gravity were supposed to apply differently to us).

What I think the Buddha meant about 'opening our eyes' was slightly different - I think he meant seeing the big picture rather than the small one - opening our eyes WIDER than the narrowed perspective with which we normally view the world. With our eyes focused on a narrow path, we don't see the alternate routes through the maze, we can only see the path we focus on and choose to see. Like in a dark labyrinth, the puzzle becomes infintely easier when we widen the cirle of light around us and are able to observe alternate routes. Once we get to a certain point, the entire puzzle is illuminated, and we can steer ourselves out... Escape from samsara!

The legend of the blind men describing an elephant (http://www.noogenesis.com/pineapple/blind_men_elephant.html) is also applicable here. When we restrict our view too narrowly, we miss the big picture. What I like most about Buddhism is that it encourages us to widen our view - seeking out that which is universal in truth and applying that to our lives.

So, bottom line, I think its all about opening our eyes. Just what exactly that means, is the topic of so much debate.

Did you ever stop to notice... ...Buddhism is about opening our eyes?

So it seems only natural to develop a sense of hopelessness - one of pure cynicism, wherein the only hope for mankind is for them to nuke the Earth, go back into caves for a hundred or so years, and then start afresh. Perhaps a little extreme, but then, so is the pervasiveness of the problem. The only hope I have left is my faith in cause-and-effect - that in the end, the scales will be balanced.

So I get to trust, just not naively...
But did you ever stop to notice... ...trust is a lost art?

To be a little more fair to the other view, I do understand that people want to know how their money is spent when they contribute to an organization. Organizations sometimes have a couple of shifty folks who ruin it for the honest ones. Typical cynical distrust of organizations aside, I think it is important for transparency just to take the wind out of similar criticisms. However, such criticism should be tempered by the fact that many of us members trust that our money will be used wisely and appropriately, without the added expense of publishing a detailed accounting of organizational funds.

I mean really, when you get down to it, cause and effect is very strict. Misappropriation of money (especially that which was sincerely donated for the purpose of kosen rufu by SGI members) is a cause, and is certainly one that would reap an equal effect. It's fundamental to this Buddhism, after all. It is perfectly logical for people to see both sides of this issue, there's no need to get in a twist over it.

Just expressing my exasperation;
Did you ever stop to notice... ...people pick the darnedest things to get in a twist over sometimes?

This is a crucial point, and there are some natural, salient implications and inferences that come to mind:

1. Practical vs Theory: This is the age old fallacy about theoretical solutions always being practical or realizable (in theory...). I could elaborate, but I won't right now for time, hopefully this is enough to convey my meaning. The crux of this point is that the leadership structure of SGI is organized around leaders who have kids, jobs, and other relationships and constraints (that they must deal with in their daily lives) and therefore naturally place emphasis on the practical advice and "nutshell" literature available. For people with the aforementioned constraints, perhaps these sources of Buddhist knowledge provide a foundation rich enough in theoretical basis and yet practical enough for those people to use in their daily challenges and assist them in their (bodhisattva-practice) attempts to help and encourage others. Kinda like walking the middle (way?) ground between the researcher (theory) and the engineer (practice).

2. Optimization of the Problem: How do you get maximum traction towards your goal? If your goal is to inspire others, it is simply more effective to concentrate on strengths. When I meet someone for the first time, I don't introduce myself and then immediately rattle off a list of all my bad habits (besides, my list is always outdated according to my partner anyway). Similarly, we in SGI are lucky enough to have a large corpus of encouraging works handy, and very often the sources cited during our meetings are from that corpus out of convenience. In my observation, this is because the problems being faced by members and leaders often has some bit of encouragement in that corpus that directly applies (or at least is very relevant), thus making it easier to recall and share later. To understand similar encouragements from works originating from outside the SGI corpus, I've often found it is necessary to give a background summary before sharing such encouragement, so that the point can be shared. This digression noticably lessens the effect on the listener and mutes the actual communucation of ideas (despite the desire to broaden horizons in doing so). In my experience, the "old-timers" that have dealt with problems similar to those I face have a wealth of encouragement from SGI sources, and when I'm down, I'm not capricious about the exact origin of the source I derive encouragement from. Maybe I should be, but I don't see the point if it works. Of course, I still have a rotary phone in my house, because the darn thing still works...

3. Time Ain't in Infinite Supply: There simply aren't enough hours in the day. This is true of leaders that lead normal, hectic lives. Studying works from outside the SGI may be an admirable effort, but many people I know and love in the SGI can scrape together a few minutes to peruse a magazine, but are not able to set aside the time necessary to finish a book, particularly when that book requires at least passing familarity with a slew of other reference materials and terminologies. This means that, in general, SGI leaders are often less familiar with outside sources, than say, a monk who studies such works many hours a day.

The above points are not generalizable to all leaders, because I know quite a few that have a very broad background/understanding in Buddhism, to which the above circumstances clearly do not apply. However, I do think these points are well suited to leaders in the trenches, on the front lines in SGI chapters and districts, who are looked to most often, and who form the bulk of the leadership in sheer numbers.

So I'll sign off with a final thought;
Did you ever stop to notice... ...that SGI leaders have a life too?

With that in mind, one never-ending-saga has been a pitched battle with a home builder for three weeks now over my desire to have a private inspector inspect a property I'm gonna buy before I buy it. They have literally fought me tooth and nail at every juncture, which has only strengthened my resolve (not to mention my annoyance at the whole affair).

So what is the first thing you do when you approach an obtacle? Now be honest... When driving, my approach is to SWERVE, and SWERVE HARD. I flinch first. When I was a kid, we used to see who would flinch first, and damned if I would always lose. Why? Not cuz I'm a coward, but because I figured out early that being seen as cool by a few people did not outweigh the downside of a lost eye. Yes, we were some wild kids...

Anyway, the builder fought the good fight and then fought dirty and finally succumbed to my persistence. At first they tried simply ignoring me. That worked for a while, but is not much of a long term strategy, because they just can't stop answering the phone forever if they want to stay in business. Next, they decided that what I wanted was against "company policy." What they failed to realize was that I was not their employee, and therefore counldn't 'give a rats behind' about their policies. Then they tried the "Doubt" approach, which is far subtler. In effect, they tried to convince me that it was in my best interest to save the money I would spend on a private inspector, since, according to them, all home inspectors are charletans anyway. This tactic is so subtle most people fall for it. While I agree that there probably are some home inspectors that are charletans, surely they realize that I would not be fighting so hard if I thought MY inspector was a phoney. But lets talk about overcoming the obstacle now...

Faith - I knew I could get them to let me have an inspector before the close of escrow. No doubt in my heart at all that this would be resolved favourably. This meant that I had the conviction in my heart that, if the deal fell through because of this one thing, it would work out for me in the end, no matter wht happened as a result.

Practice - Action, action, and more action. I was polite, never threw a tantrum or anything, returned phone calls, and pursued the matter up the chain of supervisors. I followed up on all things I discovered in the next step which was...

Study - I did research. When people started ignoring me, I did the footwork on the Internet and local business bureau to find out what other developments by this builder were going up, contacted their sales office for the number for the managing supervisor, and then called them for info. I researched the builder's "customer service" history of dealing with buyers, and gathered certification and liability insurance details about my inspector to thwart liability arguments.

It was way more work than this summary, but hey, 'both barrels', remember? In the end, all this effort was what was necessary to get it resolved in a way that placated my concerns about the builder. When dealing with bureaucracy, perhaps the three pronged attack with persistence is our only weapon.

So I'll sign off with a final thought;
Did you ever stop to notice... ...that persistence is hard, and that sometimes the hard way is necessary?