One night in an online coffee house a selfordained Zen Master named Moulton said to him Go to the dilapidated mansion you will find at the URL which I have written down for you  Do not speak to those who dwell there you must remain silent until the Moonbeams students arise  Go to the large parlor on the right of the main hallway sit in the lotus position on top of the rubble in the northeast corner stand humbly in the corner and meditate  He did just as the Moultonic Zen Master instructed His meditation was frequently interrupted by worries anxieties and the occasional Bombesin rush  He worried whether or not the rest of the plumbing fixtures would tumble from the second floor toilet to join the pipes and other debris he was sitting on He worried how would he know when Moonbeams students arose for their next blogfest on Ethics in Journalism  He worried about what the people who walked through the room said about him  Man I tell you this guy had spilkes  His worrying and meditation were disturbed when as if in a test of his faith courage and personal integrity Moultons provocative responses fell from the upper stories onto him  At that time two Wikipedia editors blithely sauntered into the scene  The first asked the second who the man was sitting there was  The second replied Some say he is a holy man Others say he is a shithead   Hearing this the troubled young man became enlightened if only for a brief instant of cosmic time  Adapted from