Zen and the Art of Sundays

Haan so see.
You've heard of those Zen guys and their insistence on calmness and sereneness and thinking about your face before you were born, and contemplating a rock garden and other such "Arre but!..." stuff?
All supposed to cultivate a state of nothingness, emptiness, and everlasting peace with oneself. They go to great lengths to get there too.
Missing the point, those guys. They do stuff in order to not do stuff.
Consider, on the other hand, the typical male Sunday.
Correction.The typical bachelor male Sunday.
Get up in the... no no.... wrong already.... get up in the afternoon,have grub.
No bath.
Sit in front of TV, watch Mithun act in inexplicable movie.
Feel rumblings of hunger.
Order pizza.
Open cans of beer.
Nod off to sleep.
Come out of hibernation, watch Schumi defeat somebody.
Open cans of beer.
Order rich oily Moghlai food. Watch Manchester United defeat somebody.
Open cans of beer.
Have Death by Chocolate, watch some late night movie.
Need I say it?
Sleep.
The globe over, millions of young people practice the art, albeit with suitable variations, with zeal and unflagging enthusiasm, day after day, as often as they can.
Who says they ain't religious?
Course they are. Zealots, for all practical purposes.
God bless Sundays.
Amen.