The Santi Asoke (Thai: สันติอโศก (อะโศก) "Peaceful Ashoka") was established by a former television entertainer and songwriter Phra Bodhirak after he "declared independence from the Ecclesiastical Council in 1975". He had originally ordained within a monastery recognized by the Thai Sangha, but soon left with a small following to form this group, which he sees as a mixture of both Theravada and Mahayana Buddhism. Described by Donald Swearer as "a radical sectarian movement" that "reflects the forest tradition's ideals of simplicity", the tradition also claimed an early influence from Buddhadasa, which it later rejected.
Samana Phothirak was once a bhikkhu of Dhammayuttika Nikaya, but his preceptor refused to take care of him after finding he had repeatedly breached the Buddhist doctrines. Phothirak then resorted to Maha Nikaya at Wat Nong Krathum (วัดหนองกระทุ่ม), Nakhon Pathom Province. As he still repeatedly contravened the doctrines, the community of Thai monks requested the Supreme Sangha Council (SSC) to look into the case. Several inquisitorial panels were set up to investigate the monks' complains and a decision was made that the SSC should exercise the authority under the Sangha Act, BE 2505 (1962), section 27, to defrock Phothirak. On June 10, 1989, Ariyavangsagatayana, 18th Supreme Patriarch of Thailand and SSC President, commanded Phothirak to leave order within seven days.
If you find yourself standing
At the end of your line
Looking for a piece of something
Maybe a piece of mind
Fed up, lost, and run down
Nowhere to hold on
Tired of, take your place at the end son
We'll get to you one by one
No light ever shines
Dead end tears that dry
Maybe a waste of words and time
Never a waste of life
Every hour will be spent
Filling a quota, just getting alonghandcuffs hurt worse
When you've done nothing wrong
No thanks to the treadmill
No thanks to the grindstone
There's plenty of dissent from
These rungs below
The clockwork of destruction
Hanging low over our heads
Always a smokestack cloud
Or a slow-walking death
No light ever shines
Dead end tears that dry
Maybe a waste of words and time
Never a waste of life
No thanks to the treadmill
No thanks to the grindstone
There's plenty of dissent from
These rungs below
The clockwork of destruction
Hanging low over our heads
Always a smokestack cloud
Or a slow-walking death
No light ever shines
Dead end tears that dry
Maybe a waste of words and time
Never a waste of life
Maybe a waste of words and time