Hotei

[rowens]

The poor man's well-fed body, the golden ball
in the beggar's bowl. The loving, accepting agonistic
buddha; the all-knowing Ignorance. Accept GOD and
kill GOD. Kill the Sun of GOD; the sun dies,
the golden ball beyond the sun that is the sun dies and
never dies and comes back after having never left.
The empty-context laughs the soulful laugh
of the retarded baby. That pure sense is so 
pure it isn't real. An illusion.—There are
no illusions where there are no things real. There
is no Path, there's a Walking Smile.
     Laughter is a Walking Smile, and so is a man
who walks. And sits. And lies.

[dukealien]

The poor man's well-fed body, the golden ball
in the beggar's bowl. The loving, accepting agonistic
buddha; the all-knowing Ignorance. Accept GOD and
kill GOD. Kill the Sun of GOD; the sun dies,
the golden ball beyond the sun that is the sun dies and
never dies and comes back after having never left.
The empty-context laughs the soulful laugh
of the retarded baby. That pure sense is so 
pure it isn't real. An illusion.—There are
no illusions where there are no things real. There
is no Path, there's a Walking Smile.
     Laughter is a Walking Smile, and so is a man
who walks. And sits. And lies.

Quite nice.  The smile, the laugh are monkey threat-expression which please because they're known, or found, to be empty of actual threat.  We laugh at the standup comedian because he exposes our ignorance or failure to anticipate the punch line, but he can't actually get at us.  So we bark like apes and show our teeth, but (usually) don't rush the stage and thrash him for his impudence.  Clowns... well, don't get me started on clowns.

You don't know Hotei lies; he's the Buddha of the Future, after all.  There's hope of a happy ending right up to the end, and after that who can say it wasn't happy after that?  Well, anyone can say it - cynicism and despair are valid poses.  But are they true?

[rowens]

Truth is as pointless a concept as ego.
I am self, arbitrarily, beyond real.

The golden ball beyond the sun is beyond truth and reality. Absorbs and transfigures all doubts and certainty.
I know this through my Angel, who for my benefit looks, as I've said elsewhere, like the actress Emily Browning. One wing represents unrequited love and the other love nonetheless. The golden ball beyond the sun, for me, is conscience and conscientious love. Universal love and selfless desire. For a caveat regarding 'selfless', attend one of my seminars, and bring your neighbor's wife.   

Between me and the golden ball beyond the sun, there is It, and there is Mystery. It shapeshifts into tropes and canons and iconography of religions and philosophies and pop cultures and other things. Mystery is self-explanatory. 

The inbetween is demonic, in the sense of multiple; between this and that, me and you, me and anything, there's room for all sorts of chicanery. Where there is no division, all of those things are lies, and we live accordingly and not blindly or sheepishly. I AM ad hoc ad libitum.