Orlando Bloom on Buddhism, Nam-myoho-renge-kyo and Daisaku Ikeda.

Not that I would compare myself to the illustrious Mr. Bloom, but I also am a convert of Nichiren, have read and understood, I think, the Lotus Sutra (and really liked it), and practiced chanting nam-myo ho ren gay kyo for which I was immediately rewarded (a lid, i.e. an ounce of marijuana and a single person's monthly allotment of foodstamps), and to the existent corporate entity of which I sent  [to a monastery in Japan] a little less than fourteen dollars, in faithful exchange for which I received a gohonzon (a sort of wooden box without a lid, intended as an altar, and a seriously beautiful, hand-brushpainted by a monk scroll that said NAMyohorengaykyo), and lovely hand-crafted buddhist prayer-beads. I gave the Gohonzon to Toni Pugh as per the entry "Okay, Peyote," who fuckin loved it, and gave it space of honor on her livingroom wall. I gave the beads to a friend in hospital who was about to have a risky operation: He was miraculously cured, and did not fail to pass the prayer-beads on to a friend of his who was in hospital and was cured....

Quite a fellow this Nichiren. He, and his, stood up twice, on their kamikaze winds, where Mighty Babylon and Korea had fallen, to the great Mongol Tiger of the thirteenth century. I think he only pretended to be a Buddhist.