The Blind Hunger of Nothing

As I write this in 2025, I’ve become fascinated by the amount of people in our culture that are Performative (capitalization intended). They want attention, internet clicks, regard, and engagement, so therefore do whatever gets them that. The Influencers, many a politician, no small amount of media personalities, and way too many social media addicts are Performative; some seem to be only Performative.

OK actually all of those kinds of people are Influencers. Anyway, let’s go on

A peculiar thing I keep noticing among these people for whom Performance is a lifestyle, is the only thing in their life, is an anger that burns inside them. It seethes beneath the surface, it bursts out in conflict far beyond something for attention. It’s seen in the glowering, contemptuous eyes and the edge in the voice that disregards most everyone if not everyone.

I’ve wondered as to the nature of this anger, as there are times it seems outright inhuman. The Performative people are all image, all anger, and in some cases seem barely human. There’s an emptiness there.

So, let’s talk desire.

Desire is the cause of suffering, a we are all too aware from our studies of psychology, Buddhism, Taoism, or just being alive and unhappy. Dealing with desire is a major part of mystical and not-so mystical practices.

Desire cannot truly be sated, it always comes back. It can be satisfied temporarily, perhaps enough for regret or enough to move on. One may recognize the temporary nature of the satisfaction and employ that awareness for wise choices. However many desires have at least the illusion of satisfaction, and in turn there’s some chance of definition.

We want to get laid. We want a drink. We want to get that promotion. Desire has at least some definition, even if we’re deceiving ourselves.

But for those who are Performative, I think satisfaction is elusive. You may engage in Performative behavior to make money or sell something, but the Performative nature can overtake your life. Some people just want the attention – or end up that way – and their entire lies are just about putting on the act to get the clicks, the praise, what have you.

The desire for attention is inherently unsatisfying. It’s temporary, it has to always been maintained, and it’s easily challenged. It also doesn’t relate to anything. You may become Performative to achieve some other goal, but your goal is to be someone else for people you don’t know to get ephemeral attention in order to get advertising dollars or something. You end up abstract from your goals – to achieve solid goals you must be epehmeral.

And that’s if there’s even much of a goal beyond a desire for attention.

I think the Very Performative people are so angry because there is nothing that can satisfy them even temporarily. The become only an act, without even the solidity of the illusion that they can feel satisfaction. They exist as pure performance, always on, always for the ephemera of attention, always empty.

Imagine walking around knowing you are nothing inside. Whatever was there rotted away as you worked on The Performance. You can’t even feel right. Even your anger is just a bitter resentment of everything because you’re nothing.

This insight is helping me understand the Very Performative, that look in their eyes, their instability, their sudden outbursts. They’re a giant yawning gap of desire with no chance of satisfaction because they’re empty of even something to desire. Their a ghost haunting the empty house of their own lives.

Xenofact

McMindfulness: Aware In The Dark

I picked up McMindfulness by Ronald E Purser when I saw it at a store, right after it had been mentioned on a podcast.  I’d heard of this look at the “mindfulness industry” and how repurposed stripped-down Buddhism was used to basically serve capitalism.  So I picked it up, read it, and found that my summary was a little too genteel.  So let me review the book – and heartily recommend it.

The book starts by looking at how, over the decades, mindfulness exercises taken in part from Buddhism had become big business in seminars and corporate advice.  The core idea is that you become more aware of your actions (and reactions) and thus mindful, are not as troubled by the world because you are so aware.  You’ll notice, by the way, it stops there – you just learn to navigate the world better as opposed to asking “why am I so stressed out?” and “why do things suck?”

The author, a Buddhist himself, walks through the Mindfulness Industry and shows how widespread it is but also how useless it is.  Since the industry is firmly lodged in neoliberal capitalism, it has no interest in fixing the system it’s in – which often causes the problem.  In fact, seeing how Mindfulness has become a corporatized product illustrates the problems of our economic and culture – which the Mindfulness Industry can’t and won’t solve.

During this tour, Purser notes firmly and intelligently that this separated selfish pseudo-self awareness misses out on Buddhism’s teachings on community, compassion, and responsibility.  The Mindfulness Industry doesn’t just take a few bits of Buddhism, it outright excludes the social elements of the religion and its teachings.  It couldn’t include them since then they’d basically be selling something that wouldn’t fill those big corporate conferences – and worse.

Because, Purser goes in depth more than I expected on mindful politics, war-waging, and more.  We’re so used to the “mindfulness” stuff we might not realize how far it’s penetrated, showing up in banal political speeches and efforts that desensitize people in the name of “not being reactive.”  Even if you pay attention to this stuff, you may be surprised beyond your capacity for cynicism.

Purser also speculated on how McMindfulness produces a selfish, separated, almost abstract sense of self.  I can see echoes of the prosperity gospel and online conspiracy theories in his speculations – both ways to seek wealth and self-aggrandizement, but without any responsibility or even real transformation.  If anything, I think there’s more to study in this area.

He does see hope – or ways – to free Mindfulness from its current corporate shackling.  So it’s not a hopeless book – it’s one carried by a kind of passionate loving rage.  So yes, you’ll get angry Buddhist when you read this.

A firm recommendation for seekers like ourselves.

-Xenofact

The Ecosystem And Greater Development

I’ve been reading “McMindfulness,” a book on how a kind of stripped-down Buddhism became a big fad by promoting “mindfulness.” Basically you learn to be aware of stress and decisions, while of course doing crap-all to make the world a less stressful place. It’s a few techniques used as a kind of though-stopping cliche. Also it’s written rather angrily by a Buddhist, and angry Buddhist writing is an experience.

One thing the author notes, repeatedly is that such “Mindfulness” techniques are bereft of things like ethical teachings, the importance of community, etc. The famous “Eightfold Path” which is sort of integral to leading an effective lifestyle for a Buddhist is missing. Its just awareness exercises otherwise, and you’re not that aware without them.

This struck my own experiences in what I call “the ecosystem.” My meditative work, Taoist-derived, is far far more effective, insightful, and useful combined with a “big picture” set of efforts. Ethical and social considerations, reading the Tao Te Ching, use of symbolic systems like the I Ching to interpret states, and so on. Meditation without a larger structure is just different ways to sit there but not “sit there” if you know what I mean.

It dawned on me that having an ecosystem is necessary to spiritual practice and without it you’ll develop little if at all. In fact you might just be self-centered and more withdrawn, being really aware of how you’re not doing anything with your spiritual awareness.

The ecosystem provides a way to support your growth – and often that involves supporting others. To deal with ethical considerations, choices, and operate among people is vital for spiritual development. You often need people for that development anyway, even if some of us really wonder about being hermits now and then. To exist in society and pursue spiritual growth requires a framework.

The ecosystem also primes you for real growth. To ask about moral considerations, one’s role in society, and so on is to prepare you to use those insights. Your spiritual growth is not trapped inside a bubble of self- it helps you become a much larger person.

Finally, the ecosystem is a form of meditation. What does the Eightfold Path really mean to a Buddhist? What do Taoists mean when they say that sounds can “deafen the ear?” To have an ecosystem of ethics and social practices is to ask why they exist and give you more to contemplate.

Meditative practices, mindfulness practices, do not end at just being a bit more aware. That’s the beginning, and to remove the larger ecosystem of ethics, social principles, etc. is to strip down meditative practices to nearly nothing. Certainly enough nothing to be marketed in endless seminars where people are taught to put up with all the crap in the world.

I’m not yet done with this book, but I’m getting why the Buddhist writer is pissed off.

Xenofact