around in circles

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For some reason, the punchline on a joke whose back-story I cannot remember keeps insisting this morning.

The joke concerned a bird that was flying in ever-diminishing circles around a mountain peak. Smaller and smaller and smaller the circles became until finally...

"He flew up his own asshole and disappeared."

Sort of a less philosophical and less polite version of Zeno's metaphorical snake ... munching its tail until finally ... what?



Is spiritual life like that? Circling, circling, circling ... munching, munching, munching ... until there is neither munching material nor muncher? All that's left, if anything can be said to be 'left' ... is this.

Perhaps I will think of a more graceful topic later. :)
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