There was also a personal aspect of that question: How was I going to pay attention to a game that lasts five days? I'm a typically over-connected modern worker bee. Lately, as the trips run into each other and I go 50, 70 days on without one off, I often feel frantic, wondering what I might be missing. I have two phones. An iPad and a Kindle. Three MacBooks. I take my iPhone into the bathroom, to text and play Zombie Gunship. Sometimes I take a call, hitting mute to flush. I use airport urinals with a phone in the other hand. I compulsively check my email. At dinner. In bed. At funerals. No, really, I checked messages at my great-aunt Thelma's funeral. I was a pallbearer. Lately, though I haven't told anyone, I've been having trouble reading. Half-finished books pile up. I open stories in browsers and get a few paragraphs in before I'm distracted by another link, another pop-up video. I'm an addict. As I settle into my seat on my way to London, the plane over the Atlantic, I start a book called "Hamlet's BlackBerry," which hypothesizes that all our devices are removing the moments before and after important events, amputating both anticipation and reflection, robbing our lives of depth. I feel like the writer is inside my head. There's a passage about each generation fearing the new, describing how Socrates believed the invention of writing would be the end of creativity and critical thinking, the permanence of words calcifying ideas. Writing was to Socrates what video games are to current parents. This is fascinating stuff, just the sort of modern philosophy I'm usually drawn to, but my strobing mind distracts me. I mark my place and never pick it back up again. Oh, and I'm reading a book about the poisonous effect of our devices … on my iPad. Such is the depth of my sickness as I leave passport control at Heathrow. And yet, as my cab heads straight to Lord's Cricket Ground, I still feel in control. I mean, for instance, I don't imagine this trip will lead me to reevaluate my life in a Buddhist temple on the seventh floor of a north London public housing building. ------ It occurs to me, sitting in this grandstand, that maybe I'm looking for answers in the wrong direction. For a few days now, I've been focusing on the game itself, reporting on the state of Test cricket. It obviously doesn't fit in a modern world. People don't have five hours, much less five days, to be disconnected. One look around the stands and you realize many don't have five minutes, or at least they think they don't: a parade of kids eating ice cream cones, holding hands with dads on BlackBerrys. The game is out of sync with today. But maybe it's deeper than that. What if it isn't the world that's changing? Like a muscle, the brain strengthens the part of itself that it uses the most. This isn't new. Scientists can point to the invention of the hand-held tool hundreds of thousands of years ago, and a corresponding growth in the size of the frontal lobe. The Internet is really just a sophisticated hammer. What will future anthropologists find out about our brains? The good news is that, for digital immigrants -- people who grew up without these stimuli -- a few weeks away will allow the brain to return to normal. But digital natives -- those who've always known the Internet and smartphones -- might be forever different. Before the age of 20, there's a significant amount of pruning of the synapses. The generation coming of age now might have permanently changed its brains. Studies show humans are losing some ability to interpret facial cues. What's next? Will people one day be unable to read a novel? Or, say, watch a five-day sporting event? "Digital natives are very impatient with mental tasks that involve delayed gratification," Small says. "That's what you're going to see with cricket. It will be very challenging for this long form of cricket to survive, except among a few aficionados. What's happening to the brains of young people is going to affect the fan base as well as the player base." That's a new thought, a frightening one. Separate from the economics of television and advertising, from the money pulling at the players and the time required of fans, the biggest threat to Test cricket might be the reconstituted brains of those who watch it. The face in the mirror is our own. We created a world without space for a pastoral game. We created a world without enough hours in the day. Forget great generals and politicians; unintended consequences are the true drivers of history. When the clock was invented, there was no minute hand. Nobody really needed minutes until around 1700. The modern wristwatch was invented in about 1820. What happened in between? The Industrial Revolution. For the first time in history, people needed to be at work on time. Minutes mattered. Now seconds matter. So we check our email every few moments, even feeling phantom vibrations in our pocket -- like pain in an amputated limb -- wondering what we're missing, even as we're doing something we profess to love. --- http://sports.espn.go.com/espn/eticket/story?page=111225/testcricket
Thursday, December 29, 2011
Shabbos?
Posted by Just like a guy at 8:29 AM 11 comments
Labels: Baseball
Thursday, September 8, 2011
Tough Life
Exactly fourteen days after my previous post, I again take writing implement in hand (metaphorically, of course) and pen this missive to the masses. Actually, that's an interesting point. Would my fingers in this case be considered my writing implement? I suppose the keyboard would have that function. But if I were, say, scratching this out in the sand with my various digits, presumably my finger itself would be the writing implement. In which case how would I possibly take my writing implement in hand? My finger (thank the one above for his kind beneficence) is always in hand!
Moving right along, today is the ninth of Elul, which means that we say the 25th through the 27th chapters of psalms. Now, being that I'm currently enjoying the 25th year of my life, I say the 25th chapter of psalms every day. My daily psalm schedule is to say the Rebbe's chapter, followed by my own, and then the daily recitations for Elul and the month (The second ת in ח״תת [or is that חת״ת?]). And yes, I know the general rule that we do more common things before we do uncommon things, but in this case I'm afraid that I'll forget the extra three chapters if I say the others first, so I just say them first. We all need something to do Teshuvah for, right?
Point being, it feels really weird to say the same psalm twice in a row. Is there some sort of protocol I should be following to prevent this sort of thing from happening? I could say, for example, the Rebbe's chapter after my own, but that just feels wrong. Or perhaps I could say the Chitas ones first, but there's just as much trouble to be found there as anywhere. Heck, if I was a really precocious ten month old and it was Rosh Chodesh Elul, I'd have the problem however you looked at it! Unless I said my own last. Hmm, that's an idea.
Today I just ended up saying them back to back, which made me feel a bit like Prince and the (semi) Hebrew Hammer, but is there a better way to do things?
These are the questions that torment me on the subway ride to work.
Posted by Just like a guy at 7:33 PM 10 comments
Labels: Shtuff
Thursday, August 25, 2011
Smiles
Exactly twenty four months after my marriage, and eighteen after Yossi Shomer's, I attended the nuptials of my dear chavrusa and partner in argument, Michoel (Moo) Rose. Not only did I teach him the proper role of aircraft carriers in WWII, but I also helped him develop a lot of character. You're welcome Mrs. Rose.
Posted by Just like a guy at 10:18 PM 8 comments
Labels: Mazel Tov
Sunday, August 21, 2011
C.D.S.G.
I recently attended a non-Lubavitch Shul for Shabbos Davening, which was pretty much the same thing as a Lubavitch Shul for Davening, except that they started at the obscene time of 8:30. Ridiculous.
Anyway, the Kiddush was in honor of a family that is leaving the community after a decade to move to Israel. One of the locals made a speech, which went something like this:
There are many communities which have the minhag to make a "seudas preidah," a separation meal, when people leave. It's interesting to note that the word, "preidah," separation, is also the same word for mule. Why is this? Well, a mule is a strange animal. On the one hand, it's sterile, it can never have progeny. On the other hand, it's a very hard worker. So a mule is bittersweet. So too is a separation: we're taking leave of one another, and it's very sad. At the same time though, it's a new start, a new beginning, and we're happy that they'll be moving on to greater things. So a separation, just like a mule, is bittersweet. Sure, we hope we'll keep in touch, but at the end of the day, this is it.
During this speech I started thinking, "Hmm, I've never heard of this whole seudas preidah thing." And then it occurred to me- this is exactly why, in the immortal words of the brothers Marcus, "Chassidim don't say goodbye." We don't have a separation, we don't leave one another. Sure, there may be a temporary parting, but we know we'll see each other again.
As a Lubavitcher, we hear things like C. D.S.G all the time, and it sounds trite and common and obvious. Then you hear things from another perspective, and all of a sudden, you realize that we really are better than everyone else. Ok, maybe not. But we do have the right idea.
Posted by Just like a guy at 10:18 AM 38 comments
Labels: Lubavitch
Monday, August 1, 2011
UnKosher Questions
In today's Chumash (specifically, verse 13) we read about a question asked of the R' Yosi by the Bishop Arius. There's a very interesting comment in the Sapirstein edition of the Chumash (page 12, note 9) which says, "Nothing other than what is mentioned here is known about this person. His name appears nowhere else in Torah literature." Funny that there's an entire Sicha (volume 34, page 9) about this guy's question, but that's neither here nor there. Of course, this is the Artscroll volume which famously quotes from Likkutei Sichos in the notes (quoted as "Beiurim LePeirush Rashi Al HaTorah" [notice the lack of a bibliography in the volume]), but again, take that as you will. My real question for you tonight is whether this Bishop Arius we are dealing with here is the same one who became famous for Arianism? It does seem possible, because Arianism is more monotheistic than Christianity, so it seems altogether possible that Arius was talking with famous Rabbis. What say you?
Posted by Just like a guy at 9:53 PM 32 comments
Labels: Parsha Thoughts
Thursday, July 7, 2011
Jews
I got this email a few minutes ago, from jddaniel9247@verizon.net:
I am considering a portion of a posting on your blog "The Real Shliach" as an insert for a work to be published.
Please reply with all your requirements (citation, format of same, etc.) for both circumstances (profit/non-profit) as I have yet to decide which route this project will go.
Thank you and regards,
JD Daniel
Some quick Googling revealed this.
So I wrote him:
Sorry, I do not allow republication of any of my work under any circumstances, especially not for Christian publications.
What say you, loyal readers?
Posted by Just like a guy at 10:11 PM 61 comments
Labels: Shtuff
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
Are you ready?
Two years ago I posted, and today I was once again inspired to post similarly.
The version I recall is:
Before the Rosh was officially Lubavitch he informed his yeshiva hanhala that he'd be in 770 for shavuos, not in Lakewood. They cried, "But matan Torah is in Lakewood!" The Rosh responded, "Yes, but Moshe Rabbeinu is in 770."
The version ex-Mossad recalls is:
The Rosh reponded, "True, but Koballas Hatorah is in 770."
--
I prefer my version if only for being more radical and in your face. I suppose one could ask the Rosh what he said, but that would ruin the fun. Besides, as studies have shown, memory is bogus.
Posted by Just like a guy at 4:28 PM 14 comments
Labels: Farbrengen
Saturday, May 14, 2011
J'accuse!
Apparently Educational Institute Oholei Torah decided to boycott this years Lag B'Omer parade unless the organizers uninvited the Marcus brothers, who were scheduled to perform at the event. Apparently, the organizers of the event gave in. This is, I may add, the same Educational Institute Oholei Torah which is honoring people at their own event who don't necessarily follow the principles which the school stands for. I refer, of course, to their lack of facial hair. Apparently however, their money is Kosher, while the music of the Rebbe's Shluchim is not. Which strikes me as strange, because MBD, a non-Lubavitch performer who is being allowed to ply his trade at the parade, has sung more songs to non-Jewish tunes than the brothers Marcus ever did.
Why did the organizers give in to this terrorism? I don't know. But I'd like to make it clear that I will be boycotting this event. Because I don't believe in giving in to terrorism.
Posted by Just like a guy at 8:36 PM 29 comments
Thursday, April 14, 2011
At least
In the first part of the month of Nissan it has become customary to recite the portions of the Torah which deal with the offerings of the Princes of the Twelve Tribes. The Prince for the 11th day of Nissan, the Rebbe's birthday, was from the tribe of Asher. The Medrash says that each tribe is named with the redemption and praise of Israel in mind. The Prince of Asher, Pagiel Ben Achran, brought his because of the Jew's choice of Hashem to be their L-rd, and Hashem's choice of the Jew's to be his special nation. The immediate question is that it's only possible to make a choice between two things which are either equal or at least comparable. Between Hashem and all other (false) gods, there can be no comparison, and the same goes for the Jew and the non-Jew, the reason for which you should consult Tanya, Chapter 49.
We can understand this by first prefacing with an explanation given by the Medrash of the verse, in Eicha 3,24, "Hashem is my portion' says my soul, 'therefore I have hope in Him". The Medrash says that this is like the parable of a king who comes to a country, surrounded by his many ministers, and the populace of the country come out to greet him. One person there says, "I choose this minister to represent and help me," while another picks one of the satraps to represent him, and a third man chooses one of the King's secretaries. There was one smart man present who said, "I choose the King, because all the others are temporary, but the King lasts forever." So too the nations of the world serve the sun, moon, stars, or constellations, but the Jewish people only serve Hashem. The question is, what's the genius involved in picking the King? Everyone knows a King is much greater than his servants. And what's the reason the wise man gives, that the King lasts forever? Even if the King is just as temporary as his ministers, he's still greater.
Back in the earliest generations people thought that it was necessary to serve false gods. Just like a person thanks and tips a waiter for bringing him food, even though the waiter obviously had no hand in the preparation of the food, one should thank the sun and the moon for giving him sustenance. The people thought that just like the waiter does have some choice whether to present the food or not, the moon and constellations have some say in the amount of G-dly sustenance they pass onto man. The mistake of these people, what they did not realize, was that the heavenly bodies are only like an axe in the hand of a woodchopper, a tool made by G-d and directed solely by Him. The early idolaters thought that they could influence the celestial bodies to give them more than they were supposed to get, like a waiter can be asked for more. An axe, on the other hand, is utterly powerless without a hand to wield it.
From this mistake came an even greater one, the belief that Hashem had left the world in the hands of his creations and therefore they were the be-all and end-all of divine service. People thought that this situation was comparable to a King who appoints a governor to rule over a province, leaving it entirely except in times of great need. So too people believed that Hashem had left the world in the hand of the constellations, intervening only when absolutely necessary.
Obviously this isn't true, and Hashem continues to sustain the world in exactly the same manner as when he first created it 5770 years ago. It takes the wisdom of the Jewish people to know this, and therefore they don't serve the false gods, who only appear to run things, but rather worship the one true G-d, the only being with any true power in the world.
This explanation, while good, is not the correct one. The parable presented by the Medrash features ministers who have free choice, and therefore choosing them does positively impact the benefit they give out. These ministers have the freedom to give those who ally themselves with the ministers more sustenance. We can therefore understand that service of the King itself, rather than the results it brings, is what the wise man seeks. From this we can understand in real life, that the reason the nations of the world worship the sun and stars is not because of their mistake, but because they would rather have physical benefits than serve G-d. Their choice does bring about actual benefit; there is in fact an advantage to worshiping the constellations. In general, there are two advantages to idol worship over G-d worship. The first is that the benefits provided by the idols are not dependent on self-nullification, which is a condition for receiving sustenance from Hashem. The second is that the benefit itself is greater than that received from choosing to benefit solely from the side of holiness.
In the desert the Israelites complained that they ate for free in Egypt; what they were saying is that their physical sustenance came without any corresponding spiritual struggle. The side of holiness only allows for benefit when the right thing is done, and even then it only gives according to a person's work. Kelipos get their life-force from a source above nature, where there are no barriers, and therefore they can provide virtually unlimited sustenance.
According to this explanation, the greatness of the Jew is that he declines to associate himself with the forces of darkness and instead chooses Hashem, even though this means he must work hard for less.
The wise man's reason for choosing the King and not the ministers is because the ministers are only temporary while the King lasts forever. What does this mean? The benefits which accrue to those who align themselves with the forces of darkness, even if these benefits are greater than those available to holiness seekers, are only temporary. After Moshiach comes, and evil ceases to exist, all the G-dly sparks which were contained within that evil will cease to exist. In addition, the benefits for those who choose the side of good will be much greater (after the coming of the Messiah) then ever went to evil-doers in the pre-Messianic age. This is expressed in the Talmudic saying, "If so much goes to those who go against His will, how much more will go to those who follow Him."
This explanation is not sufficient, however, because it implies that the only reason the wise man chooses the King is because he is smart and has figured out that with patience he'll have increased material or spiritual benefit. This is problematic, because the Medrash implies that the Jewish people choose their King because of their soul, because of the greatness of serving the King, not because of the material benefits associated with that service. Indeed, the Jew chooses Hashem because the great physical bounty which goes to the sinner is not given with Hashem's full will, as it were, but rather as a man throws a gift to his enemy behind his back, with disgust. Hashem gives the Jew because he wants to give the Jew, and the Jew takes this, because he wants to receive what Hashem desires to give. Also, the physical sustenance that goes to those who go against His will are not everlasting, and therefore they don't have a true existence even when they are present.
Where does the benefit which comes from the other side actually come from? It's siphoned of from Kedusha, from holiness, and this is the only way it exists. Since that Holiness with them is exiled, as it were, they (the Kelipos) are actually dead. The people who draw from them are also called dead, as it says in Talmud, that wicked men are called dead even while they're alive, because (as it says in Tanya) their life source is death. When a person chooses the King, he chooses life, not death, holiness, not impurity.
This explanation is still not sufficient, because at the end of the day the wise man is still making his choice based on his intellect, and the Medrash seems to be saying that his soul, which is above intellect, is making this choice. In short, the nature of man is to choose whichever path will bring him the most wealth, happiness, peace, or anything and everything good. This nature is what causes the nations of the world to worship their false gods, because they acknowledge only themselves, and therefore choose only that which benefits them. A Jew, on the other hand, because of his divine soul, is able to look beyond himself and choose to worship Hashem, even though he will get (at this point in time) less benefit, because G-dliness is truth, and his soul chooses to align itself with that truth.
What does it mean when we say that those who go against his will get their life force in a "backward" manner? We can understand this with a Mashal, a parable, of a King who makes a great feast for his ministers and honored servants. From the overflow of food from the King's table his lowly servants and maids, and even the dogs, are also able to eat. The King did not make the food for them, but they are able to survive from his bounty.
There are four levels in the mashal, and all of them are meaningful. The lowest, the dog, survives off the bones that are thrown off the table. He doesn't serve the King; rather his whole purpose in life is self-gratification. We can see this from the word for dog in Hebrew, Kalev, a contraction for Kulo Lev, or "All Heart". The human being represented by the dog is fundamentally flawed, because naturally, a person's heart is ruled by their mind. In this person though, not only does the heart rule the mind, but there is no mind. Sure, the dog gets everything it wants, and much more, but it's all left-overs, not given with the King's desire.
The next level of person is the lowly servant or maidservant, who serve the King because of their fear of punishment, not because they want to. Their sole desire in life is to escape work, to be free to waste their time. Because of this, their place is not at the King's table, because they do not wish to be there. The honored servants, on the other hand, serve the King because they understand how great such service is. Sure, they're doing it because they accept the King as their master, but at the same time they understand how great it is to serve such a man. The greatest level is that of the ministers, whose understanding of the King is so great that they manage many of his affairs. They don't serve the King out of fear, but rather out of love. Among them there are obviously many levels, with different responsibilities assigned to different men.
In the analog, the lowly servants represent the seventy guardian angels of the seventy nations, while the servants and ministers that the King serves at his table are holy angels who do G-d's will, the highest emanations of holiness, who are always with the King.
We can now understand the greatness of the Jewish people. That they don't want to receive anything like dogs or servants is easily understood, but their refusal to deal with anyone but the King, in place of his highest and most trust-worthy ministers, is admirable. This is comparable to a person who visits a King, and passes through chamber after chamber, each filled with more treasure than the previous one, until he gets to the last chamber, which is more incredible than anything any man has ever imagined. Many people will stop at this last chamber, because they're filled with awe; only the true wise man will pass by and go to meet the King, because only the true wise man is filled with the desire to see not the king's wealth but rather the King himself.
This is what the Alter Rebbe said, "I don't want your Garden of Eden, I don't want your World to Come, I want you alone." The Alter Rebbe certainly knew how great these levels were, and in fact he had a greater knowledge of them than most people. And the highest levels don't hide G-d, rather they transmit his rays. And yet he only wants Hashem. This is why the Alter Rebbe specifically said, "Your Garden of Eden, Your World to Come", because even though they are Hashem's, he still wants only Hashem.
These two explanations of "I choose the King", that a person doesn't want even the highest spiritual emanations, but only G-d himself, and the simple meaning, that a person only serves Hashem and not idols, have a connection. The Garden of Eden is great, because it's an incredible spiritual experience, where the souls bask in the rays of divine glory. When Hashem himself is chosen though, it leads to complete nullification. If a person makes a mistake and chooses to bask, choosing pleasure in front of truth, then it can lead to a person choosing to worship false gods. He might even come to that these false gods have free choice. Idol worshipers thought that there was something to be gained from serving the sun and stars; choosing anything but Hashem, even his greatest spiritual worlds, is the same thing.
Even is someone wants the Garden of Eden specifically because it's Hashem's, there is a problem, because he can come to think that Hashem gave it, or anything in the world, power to choose who to help, as was explained above. A Jew has to know that everything in the world comes only from Hashem.
The main mistake people make in serving idols is that they confuse something which is only a tool for the master. The sun and moon provide benefit for the world, but they have no choice in the matter. The benefit gotten is also mistaken. The physical world is not an ends, but rather only a means with which to serve Hashem. That's why some people choose to worship false gods, because they think that physicality is primary, and therefore they spend their lives trying to accumulate as much of it as possible. The same thing is worth the highest spiritual worlds; they too are only a means to an end, and choosing them is the first step on a slippery path to idol worship.
The source of gentiles is in the "outer will"; they only exist for another reason. They don't realize this, and think that they are the reason for existence, and from this comes the thought that whatever brings the most physical benefit also has the free choice to dispense that benefit. Jews, on the other hand, are the primary purpose of creation, and they therefore recognize that they should serve the primary, Hashem.
The Jewish people serve Hashem because of their souls and because of their intellect. The soul sees that it's source is in the inner will, that it is the purpose for which the world was created, and that affects the brain, that it too should be able to understand. From the intellect the choice in Hashem will permeate every thought, word, and action, causing a Jew to truly be a G-dly person.
King David asks Hashem in Psalm 70 to remember him. This can be explained with a parable. There was once a King who got angry at his flock of sheep and sent them away. At the same time he destroyed their enclosure and fired the shepherd. Later the King was reconciled toward his sheep, and brought them back. He also rebuilt their home. The shepherd wondered what was going on, and asked the King, "Why haven't you rehired me?" So too David asks Hashem, from the end of Psalm 69, "You have remembered Zion and and rebuilt Judah (end of the aforementioned Psalm 69), but I have not been brought back?" Therefore David asks Hashem at the beginning of Psalm 70 to be remembered. The question is, if the King remembered the sheep, why didn't he remember their shepherd? The answer is that a person can have everything but still lack the main thing, which is a revelation of G-d. The purpose of the King is to teach Torah, and since the Torah as we have it now is nothing compared to the Torah of Moshiach, David asks Hashem to let him shepherd the Jews in this infinitely higher way.
Now we can explain the Jew's choice of Hashem and Hashem's choice of the Jews. Hashem chooses the Jews because they are the purpose of creation, and this leads to the Jews choosing Hashem, because they recognize the truth. A Jew wants Hashem, to the exclusion of all else. Whatever Hashem wants, the Jew also wants. Since the whole purpose of creation is to make a dwelling place down here for Hashem, that is also the Jew's goal. Hashem gives physicality, and the Jew turns it into spirituality, and this will be fulfilled with the coming of Moshiach, speedily in our days, Amen.
Posted by Just like a guy at 7:48 PM 7 comments
Labels: Chassidus
Friday, April 1, 2011
After Norway
In the great TRS tradition of yore, I hereby present to you a slightly abridged account of a speech recently given by Alan Dershowitz in Cape Town, SA, as recorded by LtD.
Heavy security without the location being given and tickets only once they had received an email from you with ID number, etc. Dershowitz's time in SA was very controversial as he forcefully atacked Bishop Desmond Tutu for his double-standard towards Israel and thereby got all the liberals mad at him. The audience in Cape Town, numbering 1200, was very warm and cheered most of his statements.
Argument by ethnicity.
Posted by Just like a guy at 6:50 AM 41 comments
Labels: Israel
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
Ponderings
On Yom Kippur one year the services were going swimmingly. So splashy were they (in the Lipa sense) that the Rabbi was sufficiently moved to loudly declare, "Oh G-d, you are so great, and I am nothing!" The entire congregation was duly impressed by their Rabbi's pronouncement, and commenced to pray with renewed concentration and vigor. Seeing the stir that the rabbi had caused, the cantor raised his voice and proclaimed, "Oh L-rd who dwells most high, and I am but dust and ashes!" The entire congregation was once again moved at this great show of piety, and their tears rent the very heavens with their intense sincerity.
The president of the shul was aroused by these two expressions of humility, and when he sensed an appropriate time in the liturgy he lifted up his voice and said, "Almighty G-d, how can I pray to you, I who am less than the most insignificant flea!"
The Rabbi turned to the cantor with a sneer and said, "Look who thinks he's a nothing."
---
Cute, eh? The question occurred to me, as I thought upon this joke, who would be the funnier third caller, the president of the shul or the gabbai? After all, the president is the boss of the rabbi and the cantor, so naturally there'd be some friction in that direction. Usually, that friction is born of religious matters, and so when the president proclaims his religious devotions there's bound to be cynicism on the part of the religious leaders. Another explanation could be that the president of a synagogue is normally its most prestigious member, and so his religious protestations could be interpreted as a "keeping up with the Joneses" type thingamajiggie.
But then we come to the humble gabbai. Or maybe even the shammes? Both are truly nothings, hounded by administration and congregants alike, the traditional butts of much Jewish humor. In this case, the rabbi and cantor are somethings who proclaim their nothingness, but the nothing? He can't proclaim it, because who does he think he is?
Posted by Just like a guy at 9:11 PM 10 comments
Labels: Jokes
Monday, March 21, 2011
Yes we couldn't
Whoever thought that all that hope and change would end up in nothing?
Posted by Just like a guy at 8:41 PM 18 comments
Labels: Barack Obama
Thursday, March 17, 2011
Third front
"The time has come,"
the Walrus said,
"To talk of many things:
Of shoes--and ships--and sealing-wax--
Of cabbages--and kings--
And why the sea is boiling hot--
And whether pigs have wings."
(here)
The time has come...
Dee & Dum: ...the Walrus said...
Walrus: ...to talk of other things. Of shoes and ships and sealing wax, and cabbages and kings. And why the sea is boiling hot, and whether pigs have wings. Callooh, callay, no work today! We're cabbages and kings! ...(Here)
Posted by Just like a guy at 7:20 AM 36 comments
Labels: Poetry
Sunday, February 27, 2011
Midnight wonderings
If they had known about this back in the day, would Reb Yehuda Hanasi have had thirteen years of toothaches taken away?
Posted by Just like a guy at 11:02 PM 33 comments
Labels: Halacha
Friday, February 25, 2011
Lefi anias daati (again)
All right folks, here's the story: why is gay marriage wrong for a non-Jew? Because acting on homosexual instincts is wrong for a non-Jew. Why are homosexual acts wrong for a non-Jew? Because they're prohibited in the 7 Noahide laws. As Jews, and specifically as Lubavitchers, we have the obligation to teach non-Jews about the 7 Noahide laws. Therefore, we have the obligation to say that gay marriage is wrong. Right? Right.
Now... according to the 7 Noahide laws, murder is verboten. According to the Rambam, abortion, at least for a non-Jew, is murder. As Jews, and specifically as Lubavitchers, we have the obligation to say that abortion is wrong. Right? Right.
Now... when was Roe v Wade? 1973. What did the Lubavitcher Rebbe say about this legalization of abortion? I'm sure he said lots about it in letters and in private, but in public? Hmm? Can anyone give me any place where the Rebbe said anything about abortion?
So... the same Rebbe who said we have to publicize the 7 Noahide laws (apparently) didn't say anything publicly about abortion. And remember, the Rebbe was not afraid to speak his mind in public. On Shleimus Haaretz, he was extremely vocal. And so too with many other issues. But on abortion?
I very much suspect that the Rebbe would be equally reticent on the issue of gay marriage. Do we have to promote it? Of course not. Should we picket gay pride parades? Did the Rebbe say to picket Planned Parenthood?
Posted by Just like a guy at 2:42 PM 34 comments
Labels: Lubavitch
Monday, February 21, 2011
Next stop: Melbourne
Hard on the heels of my hard-hitting critique, Mark Webber, celebrated Australian F1 driver, said, "When you hear of people losing their lives, this is a tragedy. It's probably not the best time to go there for a sporting event. They have bigger things, bigger priorities."
Obviously he couldn't go for a full-out condemnation, seeing as Bahrain money supports him and his, but still, what he's saying is pretty good. Bernie Ecclestone, on the other hand, continues to support the illegitimate regime, but what do you expect of a Nazi?
Posted by Just like a guy at 8:16 AM 33 comments
Labels: Shtuff
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
Bogus
This is ridiculous. Here are people dying for freedom, and all these morons care about is their race. Won't anyone stand up and say, "I support democracy, or some reasonable approximation thereof"?
Posted by Just like a guy at 9:58 PM 18 comments
Labels: Shtuff
Monday, February 14, 2011
Yesh mukdam
Why did Aaron make the golden calf? Because he saw that the Israelites had killed Chur. That's in verse five. In verse six, the Torah says that the Jews got up to sport, which connotes adultery and bloodshed. "Here too," the Tanchuma states, "Chur was killed."
Say what? When did he die, before the altar was built or after?
Posted by Just like a guy at 9:39 PM 11 comments
Labels: Parsha Thoughts
Sunday, January 30, 2011
Salaried
There were two missives in the 22 Shevat issue of Nshei Chabad which are worthy of response on this worthy blog, but I'll only be responding to one, for reason which shall remain obvious to those who are already cognizant of them.
There was an article in a previous issue of the newsletter which stated that Chabad Yeshivos provide wonderful educations. The author provided various proofs for his assertion, and came to the conclusion that Lubavitcher bochurim learn all the skills necessary in their educational endeavors for two (and only two) professions: shlichus and entrepreneurism. And that's it. Because that's all you need: either you go out on Shlichus, which is really entrepreneurial in and of itself, or you start your own business, which is really Shlichus.
In this most recent issue someone responded that the above assertion was actually incorrect. Contrary to the author's beliefs, the fact that bochurim leave yeshiva with a very limited skill set reflects a major deficiency in the system, not a positive. As the first responder says, there's a very limited number of shlichus spots open, and many people simply don't have the ability to be entrepreneurs.
In response, the author of the original article says that the main thing which matters is the person's own faith and belief and self. If you believe it enough, it will come true. There's no need to go to any sort of school, because the most successful people all just believed in themselves, and this is exactly what the Lubavitch educational system teaches.
As the commentaries would say, this is the end of the quote.
And as the commentaries would undoubtedly be too polite to say, this is bogus. The best way to respond to naivete like this is to point out the Rebbe's establishment of vocational schools in Israel. The only way to disprove someone who has drunk the Kool-Aid is to bring something which directly contradicts them.
Next up, it's simply ridiculous to assert that everyone could start their own business or at least trail blaze a new path in life. After all, if this was the case, where would the doctors come from? I'm all for people starting their own medical companies, but I would like them to have gone through some medical training first.
Besides, most people, yours truly included, simply don't have the temperament, inclination, or natural-born abilities to make something on their own. The author seems to have these abilities, and is astonished that the rest of the human race does not share his own nature. At the very least, he assumes, seven or eight years in the Yeshiva system should drill enough self-belief in someone that they're able to make it on their own in the big wide world. After all, as long as you believe in yourself, you can do anything, right?
The purpose of this post is not to posit a deficiency in the Lubavitch educational system, but rather to say that wishful thinking is no substitute for an actual education. Quoting Tony Robbins and thinking that there's some sort of mantle which will fit all Lubavitchers is absolutely ridiculous. Everyone is different. There are 600,000 general souls, and each soul has their own path in life. Sure, there's one Rebbe, but that Rebbe was smart enough to know that everyone is not the same.
Posted by Just like a guy at 8:20 PM 57 comments
Labels: Lubavitch
Saturday, January 1, 2011
Now you know
In honor of the upcoming Hasc concert, I thought it'd be a good idea to go through my favorite Hasc songs, in no particular order. The number next to them is the number of times I've listened to them on my iPod, which of course does not reflect the number of times I listened to them on my previous 1.5 iPods.
1. Yoel Sharabi's Hineni Kahn (1023). As many of you will know, I sang together with him, and yes, he really had that hair.
2. MBD's Golus Paroh (1185). Apparently this is the Weiss family's favorite song, and truth be told, I really can't blame them.
3. It took this long to get to Avremel? But here he is, with Eliyau Hanavi (127).
4. And again, with L'shana Habah (1279) . No words, just right. Well, almost no words. Still just right.
5. And back with MBD, Daagah Minayim (31). What can I say? He's right.
6. Tzadik, from Avraham Rosenblum and Ruby Harris (1551).
7. MBD again, with Ko Amar (63). I think this might be my favorite song of the bunch. Maybe that's because it's so easy to sing.
8. MBD with Mimkomcha (703). I love this song to bits, but the intro is a bit grating after the first thirty listens. But that's ok.
9. It's funny, because I really don't listen to that much MBD in general, but he's on the list here again with Heaven on Earth (1032).
10. The one and only Dedi with Elokai Neshoma (1536). On a side note: isn't everyone one and only? I mean, even people with identical DNA are different, no?
11. Chaim Dovid with Nafshenu Chiksah (1535). Truth is, his Open Up Your Gates (327) should also be on this list. As should the finale of Hasc III, There's a Small Piece of Heaven (3). As should the finale of Hasc IV, Candles (19), even if MBD sounds terrible there. And once I'm there, is it fair to leave out either Forever One (10, 63)?
12. Piamenta's Birkat Hamazon (67). I didn't always appreciate the brilliance of this one, but now I do. Strange things happen, eh?
13. Avraham Fried, Dedi, and Ohad's Yossi Green medley (641). Gorgeous. I wish Avremel would put out a cd of oldies, and give prominent billing to Kadaish (112) off of Goodbye Golus. My heart stops every time I hear that chorus. Fortunately it's not a very long one, otherwise I'd have to put Hatzalah on speed dial. But yeah, the first two numbers covered in the Hasc medley should certainly receive preferential treatment. V'zakeinu (79) and Keayol (15) are, as I already said, gorgeous.
14. The next two songs are, now that I'm further reflecting, possibly unworthy of their place on this list. Boruch Haboh (38) from last year's Hasc is great, but is it an all time great? Especially with Lipa cracking in the middle? Which brings up another point. Some people are fantastic in the studio, like Yaaov Shwekey, but aren't worth a lick live. Or else, maybe he is amazing live, but recordings of him live aren't much. I wouldn't know. Others are fantastic in studio and live and in subsequent recordings thereof, like Avraham Fried. Everyone knows that I love Lipa, but recordings of him live aren't so great. When in a studio he's able to do a lot more than when he's bound by the laws of physics, but seeing him on a stage? His presence more than makes up for any deficiencies in his voice. Not that there are many, but they certainly do exist. The same applies to the next song, the greatest hits medley (40), also from last year's (XXIII) Hasc. I really had it on this list (which mirrors the "Hasc Classics" playlist of the official iPod Touch of TRS) because of one song, Vehi Sheomdah 7). Like everyone else, I love that song. But now that I actually have Shwekey singing it, do I need this version? Especially with Fried's corniness? I understand that it's a family trait (ouch! that wasn't nice!), but again, after thirty listens, is it really necessary? Ich vais nisht.
Posted by Just like a guy at 10:10 PM 36 comments
Labels: Music