U.G. Krishnamurti is an iconoclast of all human consciousness, stating that there are no spiritual teachings, and the impossibility of any human change. To go even further, there is no self to learn or to think thoughts. Each person? Beliefs? Nothing but illusions of egoistic self-defense and survival. His worldview reminds me a lot of antipraxis, the idea that there is nothing to be done.
Are the bugmen justified in being spiritually dead, looking at things with their thousand-meter virtual-reality stare? Perhaps there was never a soul behind those dead eyes to experience qualia to begin with, zombies in the philosophical sense. Perhaps they are closer to enlightenment than anyone else, by not seeking any form of enlightenment or salvation at all. After all, it is desire, yearning for attachment to something, which leads to suffering.
Each person under techno-capital is but a cog in a machine, in which agency itself is annihilated, being in service to an unrelenting, inhuman system. In some sense, the system has inadvertently pushed humanity towards the realization that nobody is really in control of their own lives, that few people derive any benefit from their own existence, and that life itself is fraught with uselessness. We got Bullshit Jobs as David Graeber pointed out, because of the need for some narrative of agency, control, or meaning in our lives, a society-wide delusion of grandeur in the self-importance of human lives.
Nothing to know
"If you meet Buddha on the road, kill him." - Linji Yixuan
As U.G. Krishnamurti asserts, there is nothing to know, nothing to achieve or attain. This is antithetical to the Gnostic's claim that divine knowledge will lead to salvation, and its overly simplified cousin, faith in Jesus Christ, along with the holy water ritual of baptism. If one is seeking enlightenment or salvation, this is what is preventing one from attaining one's goal to know the unknown, it can only be revealed.
Hypothetically, even if there is such a thing as enlightenment, then almost no one has attained such a state. In U.G. Krishnamurti's own experience, his coming of being into a natural state did not come to him by his own actions, but by chance. By extension, one could claim that no one can be saved from eternal death, because there are no true believers in Jesus Christ, and even within their own congregations no one can estimate how many are saved, because only their God can cast judgment. It is a point of absurdity that believing in a myth will grant eternal life.
Self-annihilation
I had first read about U.G. Krishnamurti on the web long ago, before reading about him again in Thomas Ligotti's Conspiracy Against the Human Race. To my puerile mind at the time, it was reassuring to know that I know everything there is to know, by knowing nothing. A child's mind is relatively unhindered by cultural bullshit, compared to that of an adult who has grown up in a society. As a child, I struggled a lot to fit in, this had been confounded by my mildly autistic modes of thinking, which is not learning via social cues. It is very hard to be an ordinary person, because it is essentially trying to become someone I am not, some idealized fiction of a person.
Imagine that you suddenly no longer experience conscious qualia, that you were no longer able to enjoy the food you were eating, feel the sensation of pain, or experience carnal knowledge. All of these experiences which are essential for surviving long enough to reproduce, viewed from the lens of an impartial observer, would seem rather banal. Like playing the Sims, from the top-down deity perspective, all the suffering and temporary pleasures of your Sim character exposed as contrivances to facilitate the survival of the organism. You would cease to be.
What role am I supposed to fulfill in this world? I am just another East Asian bugman, really nothing more than an insect in the eyes of my enemies. Why should I even have any stake in the well-being of the society I inhabit, one which does not care at all about me, and even worse, derives benefit from treating me so callously? I never asked to be here after all, and my suffering is rather meaningless.