I sort of know what they mean -- or anyway I imagine I do: "Imperial Zen" and "blue-collar Zen."
Imperial Zen is full of cultured brocade and the next cookie is delicious in the same way the one before it was. Imperial Zen follows a path that is sometimes said to be "2,500 years old." As in a scavenger hunt, it digs up bits of treasure marked upon ancient maps.
Blue collar Zen is as homey as folk art -- lovingly created and chiseled and yet not quite smooth around the edges. Blue collar Zen's simplicity is obvious and its beauty is mysterious. Sometimes blue collar Zen means Zen for Americans, something that reaches beyond "a bunch of smart white guys." It is for everyone.
As I say, I sort of know what these bits of terminology mean, what they're pointing at, what dangers and delights are implied.
But outside a little social conversation, I don't like either one of them. Something inside just cringes -- seriously cringes. It's not as if imperial Zen or blue-collar Zen were wrong.
They're just wrong.
Someone else will probably have a more nuanced and educated point of view.