Title: Self-indulgent
Product review: There is a notion in the Buddhist tradition that there is no such thing as a self. Given that this book is totally self-indulgent, and about Buddhism (I think), then there are some paradoxes here. It is written in that absurd opaque self-referential style characteristic of bad post-modernism, and is basically for the author's own self-delight. The rest of us are doomed to stand outside for a moment, watching the juggler of notions in the dime store window, looking at himself delightfully in a series of distorting mirrors -- then, shrugging our shoulders, we head out into the business of life once more, carrying our much worn copies of "Being and Nothingness" in our knapsacks as we trudge along.
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