In Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, Robert Pirsig wrote something to the effect that the Buddha can be found in the workings of a motorcycle as surely as on the mountaintop.
By the same logic, is the Buddha present in the guts of my dvd player? Can the Buddha be found in a cluster bomb? In a land mine?
Is the skyscraper as natural as the beehive?
The guts of my dvd player are unlovely, but I've seen the guts of deer spread out on the highway, and they are not particularly lovely, either.
What makes something holy? Is this a quantum question, the answer residing as much in the observer as in the thing observed?
What does it mean to be broken? Are we broken? Are we in need of redemption? And why does salvation, if needed, come not in this life -- where it might actually be useful -- but only after one is dead? Of what use is that?
We have a new dvd player. The old one is now salvage. Copper wire, resistors, circuit boards. Ashes to ashes.