Kol haposel

You all ready for some shulchan oruch I learned today? Excellent. This is in no way intended to replace a thoroughly competent orthodox rabbinical figure, and anyone who paskens from here deserved whatever happens to them.

The mechaber writes, in siman 110 Halacha 7, concerning any mixture of kosher food and food that is not able to be nullified, for example a live animal, an insect, a piece of meat worthy of being served for a guest, or a forbidden item that will in the future be permitted. If one of these non-Kosher foods is mixed up (not cooked) with a similar kosher food then the entire mixture is forbidden because it's impossible to know what is kosher and what is not kosher. If, however, one of the pieces of the mixture is lost forever, for example it's eaten by someone accidentally, then the remainder may be eaten, provided that double the amount of original forbidden food is consumed each time consumption occurs.

For example, if someone has ten kosher steaks and a tenth non-kosher steak gets mixed up among them, and then one of the steaks is accidentally eaten, then a person could eat two steaks at a time, no problem. Why two? Because then there's always at least biblical permission to eat the one (potential) non-Kosher steak. If there's only one then at some point you'll definitely be eating treif, and of course it's forbidden to eat treif. The same reasoning would apply if three treif pieces originally fell into the pot; you'd have to eat six pieces every time, in order to make certain of the biblically-mandated majority kosher meat.

The Taz (ches) asks why the Mechaber allows the remainder of the previously-forbidden mixture to be eaten. It's because we consider the missing piece to have been the forbidden piece. The question then arises, why didn't the rabbis forbid this mixture, because we should be scared that someone will then intentionally eat one piece in order to permit the remaining pieces.

The reason the rabbis didn't forbid this is because what this person would in effect be doing is eating a piece of treif meat (remember, that's what we consider the missing piece to be) in order to make the rest of the meat kosher. But if he cares about the rest of the meat being kosher, then he's not going to eat the treif! And if he doesn't care, then he's going to eat it anyway! So either way, you're fine.

The Taz says, this can't be right. Of course no Torah-observing Jew is going to eat treif, but who's to say he won't get rid of it somehow else, like by giving it to a non-Jew or dog, or by throwing it into the sea? Therefore the Taz says that we do in fact prohibit the entire mixture, even if a piece is accidentally lost.

The house

You will recall (for so have I commanded) that last week one of my posts referenced the next great American novel, or something very much like it. Well, here it is. As the Magratheans would have it, "We are not proud".
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Chapter One:

I was helping my father, the Rabbi, put his sefarim on the bookshelf when the blue minivan pulled up in the driveway for the first time. My father was tall, with a long, black beard, hints if orange in odd places, and prematurely graying hair. I was seven years old, the firstborn, a regular-looking boy, with my mother's eyes and my father's nose.

The doorbell rang, and my father, embarrassed as always, let my mother answer it. She walked into the living room from the kitchen with a slight frown on her face. "Oh, thank you," she said, "how very kind." It was a homemade apple pie, presented by a woman, a year or two older than my mother. My mother didn't yet know how to say that she couldn't take the pie, it wasn't kosher, her family only ate kosher-thoughts tumbled through her head, and she raced to respond appropriately.

"My name is Mrs. Simons," said the woman at the door, "welcome to the neighborhood." My mother didn't yet even know how to respond to this midwestern friendliness, and she hadn't even had time to think of something to do with the pie resting in her hands. Helplessly, she invited Mrs. Simons into the house, directing her past my father and I putting books on the shelves and into the kitchen.

My mother put the pie down and offered her guest a drink. "I'm sorry we only have water and iced tea," my mother said, taking a jug out of the nearly empty fridge, "we've only just moved in." Mrs. Simons replied, "That's no problem."

I heard this exchange from the living room and wondered if I should get a glass of iced tea myself. My father had stopped putting sefarim on the shelves because he had found one that was interesting. Later that night he would read it aloud to us around the dinner table, translating the Hebrew words into English for my mother. In any case she was too preoccupied with my younger siblings to pay much attention to what my father was reading. I would listen though, not understanding everything, but feeling a bit of the awe my father felt for the words contained in the book. This was no ordinary book, it was a transcription of a farbrengen, words written down by wise men, guided by the divine and the expectations of the many.

Years later, when I too could read these farbrengens, I felt a bit of the awe my father felt. But it would never be the same. He had been by the Rebbe when these words had been spoken; actually, I had also been there sometimes, but I was too young to remember anything that had been said.

When I was in high school, writing short stories for my own enjoyment, I never wrote of the Rebbe or his farbrengens. They were holy, above fiction. There were so many stories told about him, and they all professed to be true. No one was brave enough to mention him, even in passing, without at least claiming to be true. Of course, not all the stories could be true-only a fool would believe them all, but at the same time, they could have happened.

To put this man of truth in fiction, a lie? To knowingly say or write that he did what he did not? Leave that for historians, who neither know nor care. For us the pain was too great, the knowledge too dear.

My stories instead featured a boy named Joshua who challenged all the belief's his author held. I didn't realize it at the time, but the stories were cries for what I could not allow myself to have. I wrote of a youth in turns cynical, sarcastic, and above all humorous; I strived for all three, but only managed to produce what I was, a confused mess of ideas, tangled beliefs, and teenage humor.

Laughing at jokes I could not comprehend and making light of elders who comprehended too much. Pretension I hated above all, yet no matter how hard I fought to keep it out of my stories it came through in great chunks, with little spaces in between for my laugh at society and its moors.

[the end]

For no other purpose

Something is only work when you don't want to do it for its sake. The day a baseball player only steps onto the field because he wants his paycheck, not for the love of the game, he's working, not playing. There's nothing wrong with work; in point of fact, it's quite the wonderful thing. Forget the financial aspects-there's something very satisfying about doing something you're not particularly interested in doing and doing it well. But at the same time, it's only a means, not an end. G-d created a world, and everything in it, but he didn't create it all equally. He wanted to create non-Jews, but not because he wanted a world filled with goyim; he made them because he wanted them in his world. Jews, on the other hand, were not created for another purpose. They're just there because He wants them.

Speaking of work, today is Beis Iyar, the birthday of the Rebbe Maharash, Lechatchila Ariber, as the Rebbe would often refer to him. Of course, if you're Shlomo Cunin then you put on your Sefer Torah (at Running Springs) "Lechatchila Ariber unAriber" (ooh, chasssiiddisshh), but that's neither here nor there. As the Tzemach Tzedek remarked when his son was complimented, "What do you expect of Tiferes sheb'Tiferes?"

The Rebbe Maharash has always been a little mysterious. We don't have a picture of him. (Actually, I have heard tell of a likeness possessed by some family in Crown Heights displayed under a glass counter top, but that could just be over-active Bochur imagination). He was first married at the age of fourteen to his niece Rebbitzen Shterna, after a whole round of sibling squabbling. She became ill soon after the wedding, and after a prolonged illness she passed away. When he was fifteen he was married again, to Rebbitzen Rivkah, no relation. (For a complete biography, see here)
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Meanwhile, in other news, the latest Haveil Havalim, ably hosted by the Rebbitzen's Husband, is up here.

Dear TRS: The oddly calmed edition

R' Shmuel Munkes once invented a mouse poison which he guaranteed would kill all and any mice. A chassid bought it, and came a few days later to complain, "You're poison doesn't work! The mice won't touch it!" R' Shmuel said, "Very simple. First you catch the mouse, then you make it swallow the poison, and then it dies." The Chassid said, "But once I catch the mouse, I don't need the poison anymore!" R' Shmuel said, "Ain lecha nami."

With that story in mind, it's time for a wholly original Dear TRS. Yup.

Dear Sir:

Why do penguins/bochurim, while on the street, spontaneously burst into song? It's unnerving.

Signed,

Alarmed
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Dear Alarmed,

Your question is very important to us, and as soon as we finish humming this tune we'll attempt to get back to you.
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Dear Sir:

I really must know, why is a fish?

Signed,

New Age Feminist
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Dear New Age,

Because if it wasn't, then what would it be?
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Dear Sir:

If even snags admit they are allowed to sing during sfira why do they prohibit recorded singing (a capella) as "too much like music"?

Sincerely,

Hypocrisy Rocks
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Dear Hypocritical,

One of the most fundamental elements of snagginess of learning not to question the Gedolim. When the gedolim say something, you should listen. In other words, the words of the Gedolim to you must be the law. What I'm trying to say is, the Gedolim must be listened to and trusted in implicitly.

Having said that, I would like to point out that in fact only a capella music that is able to be listened to is banned from being listened to. Therefore, any non-listenable music is permitted to be listened to.
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Dear Sir:

Will you join my organization Morons And Dumkopfs Negating Endlessly Stagnating 'Stereotypes' (MADNESS) We have several guidelines for our members to follow. In the interests of furtherance of multiculturalism will you agree never to speak to a Muslim lest you offend his or her religious sensibilities? Furthermore, will you agree never to take a picture of a young sfardi chareidi lest it be misinterpreted as an image of Muhammad may he rest in pieces?

Sincerely,

A.P Manson
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Dear A.P. Manson

At first I was very excited to join your organization, but then I realized that you made fun of the prophet Muhammad, and I resolved to blow you up.
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Dear Sir:

Don't you know that it is the height of shamelessness for an advice columnist to solicit questions?

yours truly,

Heckler
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Dear Heckler,

I merely follow in the best traditions of my predecessors who always have a mailing address by their columns. Besides, wouldn't you think it weird if I had an advice column and no one to address the address to?
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Sincerely to all, TRS

Wake up

Have you ever felt an overwhelming sense of deja vu? Or maybe it's just because it's raining, and it's much easier to simply post what was once posted, without comment, then to write something anew, awet. Whatever the case may be, here's an encore performance entitled Typical Lubavitch shtuff, originally published Monday, January 28, 2008.

Whenever a topic doesn't immediately suggest itself I try to remember something interesting that I learned recently. Today is one of those days. How about some Gemara? That's usually exciting. My thanks to Mesorah Publications/Artscroll for (presumably) not reading this blog and suing me for copyright infringement. I do recall a Halacha (law) that allows a person to ignore warnings such as the one reproduced in the beginning of the volume if by doing so a person will be spreading the light of Torah throughout the world, and possibly to California as well. Anyway, you're supposed to have Mesiras Nefesh to teach Torah, right? It's like the verse says, "Even if Nosson Scherman doth commence litigation, I shall not tarry." Or something like that.

The Gemara in Berachos, 3a, quotes a teaching of Rav, and I'll quote it too. "Rav Yitzchak bar Shmuel said in the name of Rav: The night consists of three watches, and at each and every watch the Holy One, Blessed is He, sits and roars like a lion and says: Woe to the children because of whose sins I destroyed My Temple, and burned My Sanctuary, and exiled them among the nations of the world.

I learned a Maamar with my dear friend and fellow Shliach YYXPS (Yosef Yitzchak Shusterman) that deals with exile (B'laila Hahu 1968). Back in the day I learned in Rabbi Nachman Wilhelm's Yeshiva, and he used to like saying a certain thing that I'll now relay over to you, my devoted (and apparently patronized) followers. Don't worry, this all connects in the end. At the beginning of Psalm 126 we say, "Shir Hamaalos B'shuv Hashem Es Shivas Tzion Hayinu K'cholmim, which literally translates, "A song of ascents, when Hashem will return the captivity of Zion, we will be like dreamers" (Again, thanks to out friends at Artscroll).

There are many different explanations of this verse, and this is Rabbi Wilhelm's: when Moshiach comes we will look back on exile and see it as if it was a dream. As the Maamar says (see? I told you I'd tie it all in), many strange things can happen in a dream. An elephant can walk through the eye of a needle. An airplane can eat chicken. A chicken can eat an airplane. Heck, the eye of a needle could even walk through an elephant. A dream is not merely something which makes no sense; it is something which made sense at one point, during the dream, and now is incomprehensible. Our lives make sense, but only because we haven't yet woken up. Once we wake up, with the coming of the Messiah, we will realize how everything we experienced in exile really made no sense. Hey, most of it barely makes sense anyway.

It's a nice vort, no?

Getting back to the Gemara, we see that Hashem waits for us to come back to him. So why don't we start listening, and end this bad dream?

(If I was in a different mood, I'd savage this pretentious post with a quickness reminiscent of the late great Karl Retburg's famous impression of tortoises on steroids in January. In the snow. Yeah.)

Thrice original

They say that a wise person perceives the future and acts accordingly. Here's part of a (originally comment-less) post, originally entitled So much shtuff, originally published on February 14, 2008. Enjoy.

In other news, I have a cute story for you from Laibl Wolf which I trust you will find to be as entertaining as I thought, followed by a similar story, told over by LDT, which provoked much the same reaction. Here goes:

Once a guy sold his house and bought a horse. The whole town told him that he was crazy, but all he said was, "You don't know, wait and see." The next day the horse ran away into the forest, and again the whole town told him he was crazy and called up the local institution to find out if they had any space for a new patient. All he answered them was, "You don't know, wait and see." The next day the horse came back with ten horses in tow, and all the town's people proclaimed the man a genius and canceled his psychiatric evaluation. All he told them was, "You don't know, wait and see." The next day one of his children was walking by the horse and it lashed out at him and broke the poor kids leg. All the people in the town called up to say that he was obviously still very crazy and that the evaluation was now rescheduled for Friday. All the man replied was, "You don't know, wait and see." The next day a children's crusade broke out and all the children of the village were gathered together to die at the hands of the Muslim infidels, except of course for the horse buyer's kiddie, whose leg was in shambles. All the people in the town said, "Wow, what a genius," while he said, "You don't know, wait and see."

The moral of the story is obvious. At least, the moral according to Laibl is obvious. Personally, I would shoot the guy. Anyone who was told me, "You don't know, wait and see" that many times deserves to have some steel implanted in his head.

Ah yes, onto our next victim, oh, I mean story. Again, this is courtesy of LDT.

Once there was a Moroccan King who had a Prime Minister who responded to every event with, "Don't worry, it's all good." He said this so often that people called him "It's all good". The King, rightfully enough, got pretty annoyed with all this self-righteous nonsense, but the Prime Minister did a good job, so the King figured that he could live with this little issue.
One day the King was being interviewed by the local press, and he took them into the Royal Grounds for a little demonstration of the King's horticultural prowess. Unfortunately, the King cut off the tip of his thumb while trying to trim some bamboo, and all the King's horses and all the King's men couldn't put the King's finger back together again. The press were of course all thrown into prison, to suppress the story, and the Prime Minister was sent for in order to give his expert opinion. When he was appraised of the situation all he said was, "Don't worry, it's all good." The King was incensed, and he threw his Prime Minister into prison with all the journalists, vowing that none of them would ever see the light of the day again.
Three weeks later the King, along with 93 members of the Royal Retinue, went on a trade mission to Kenya, but once again fortune turned on him and his ship was waylaid by a passing storm and washed up on a cannibal island. Immediately thirteen thousand cannibals surrounded the Royal Retinue and demanded to know who their leader was. "It is I!" proclaimed the courageous King, and he was immediately taken off to be eaten. As the cannibals were undressing him they noticed that the tip of his finger was missing, and fearing that they might contract some dangerous and deadly disease they let him go and instead ate the new Prime Minister, allowing all the other people to leave the island in peace.

A historical note: As per the poll on the Real Shliach, they ate him with A1 steak sauce, and he was quite delicious.

Anyway, the King returned from Kenya, and realizing that his chopped off finger was the reason he was alive, and that his Prime Minister had been correct in telling him not to worry, the King took him out of jail and gave him back his old position. The King asked forgiveness from his Prime Minister for incarcerating him together with a bunch of journalists, and the Prime Minister answered, "Don't worry, it's all good." The King was astounded. "What do you mean, 'It's all good?' You were in a cell with a bunch of journalists for three months. It must have been a living hell!" The Prime Minister answered the King, "If I had accompanied your majesty on his trip, I would have been the one served with the A1 steak sauce."

Nice story, eh? The Prime Minister is slightly less annoying than the horse guy for the simple reason that he's rather less insulting, but I think that the moral of the two stories is that while it's fine, and even commendable, to have this attitude for yourself, as we see in the Talmud and various Lipa Schmeltzer songs, it's quite another thing to have this attitude when it comes to other people. Actually, I think I blogged about this a couple months ago. Basically, for yourself, accept the suffering with equanimity, but when it comes to other people, you should storm the very heavens (as opposed to what?) in order to bring about an end to their pain, sadness, grief, and the various other things that afflict people locked up together with journalists.

More old, still good

Continuing in last night's vein of posting oldies but goodies that no one ever bothered commenting on... I present to you Fraughts of the evening, originally published on May 9, 2008.

Last night I decided to write The Great American Novel. One of the problems with this plan is that half the book will be explaining Jewish concepts and words. The other problem is that I have a hard time fleshing out ideas. To come up with something brilliant is easy; making it work is the hard part.

Obviously, the book will be half memoir, half novel, and a quarter over-written. The critics will love it, because it'll be ethnic, soul searching, and my first book. The second will of course be widely panned, discovered seven years later, and made into a badly-directed film starring people in the twilight of their immature careers. I'll become a literary critic, living on the fringes of high society, producing books which are decidedly not The Next Great American Novel but are good enough to put bread on my grand-children's table.

Sound like a plan? Anyone know any literary agents who can get me a nice advance? Tremendous.

Moving right along, I learned a Maamar (Emor 1984) this morning that brought back memories of the Rosh's speeches. After Pesach, Shabbbos afternoons are long, and the Rosh gives a Pirkos Shiur diatribe. His favorite topic is Elazar Ben Dodarya, but I won't quite get into that now. The basic point though is Teshuva, that elusive not exactly repentance/kind-of return type thing that Jews like to talk about so much, possibly because we're all so bad at it.
In Pirkei Avos this week we learn that Reb Yehuda Hanassi, compiler (and possibly writer [depending on who you ask]) of the Mishna. He says, "Which is the right path for man to choose? Whichever is for himself and for mankind." This saying seems to imply that while this path is good, there are others which are equally valid. And in fact that's the case. There are two paths for a Jew, that of the Tzaddik and that of the Baal-Teshuva. Hashem wants us all to be Tzaddikim, perfectly righteous people without a sin to blemish the pure white linen that is our souls. Unfortunately, people seem to enjoy spilling all sorts of shtuff on that pure white linen, which makes it very dirty and not so white anymore linen. The answer at that point? Bleach. And because heavenly bleach is of a slightly higher quality than that enjoyed by temporal types, the pure white linen that makes its way out of the laundering process is even whiter and more pure than it originally was. So when a person sins, he is in fact doing a good thing.

At this point I expect that everyone reading this will be doing one of two things. They will either be commenting or sinning furiously. I'd therefore like to add a small caveat to my previous statements. The only people who are entitled to view sinning as a good thing are those who have no connection to it, meaning that the temporal types I earlier referenced are out of the equation. Basically, the only being who's entitled to view your sins as merits is G-d. Sorry.
When a human being sins, he's not doing it to become closer to G-d. He's doing it to satisfy the animal lusts which course through his veins and look suspiciously like cholesterol. So when that heavenly bleach is applied, it's going to hurt. This is not a punishment though, it's a cleansing process. And when the person cries bitter tears for the separation between himself and his G-d, he is also cleansed.

As Reb Yehuda Hanassi says though, there is a much easier path. Just do good, avoid wrong, and everyone will be happy.

Go us, and them, and everyone in between

This afternoon my family and I paid a visit to Byerly's in S. Louis Park where I beheld, for twenty six dollars, "Death by Chocolate." Crazy, no? The cake was half the size of cakes which cost half as much, and yet they had the chutzpah to display it prominently... Who knows, maybe it's worth it. Maybe it's not.

In other news, certain nefarious individuals have requested that I read Liberty and Tyranny: A Conservative Manifesto. I told them that a roommate of mine at RCA read Lies (And the Lying Liars Who Tell Them): A Fair and Balanced Look at the Right, and that I wouldn't want to stoop to his level. They weren't impressed. 

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Tomorrow morning I fly, and to celebrate, here's a nice little post originally published on November 15, 2007, entitled Story time with Uncle Shliach: 

Can we cue the corny music please? It's time for stories! Rabbi Nachman Wilhelm, fearless leader of the Lubavitch Yeshiva-Wexler Learning Institute, and all-around genius, gave us, the Shluchim of YHSTC a Shiur yesterday. It was very interesting. The part that I wrote down was of course the stories, so here goes: The Tzemach Tzedek was once provoked, and he made a quick mental search through the entire Talmud Bavli and Yerushalmi to figure out if he was Halachicly allowed to get angry. What's the point of the story? It's just cool.

Second story: People once asked the Friedriker Rebbe, Lubavitch is Mekarev (brings in) many people, but doesn't it say in Shulchan Oruch (Code of Jewish Law), in the fourth section, Choshen Mishpat, that there are only certain people who we bring closer, and there are some who we even push away. How could Chabad bring in everyone indiscriminately? The Rebbe answered, "First let me deal with every person with the first three sections of Shulchan Oruch, then we can discuss the fourth." Point of the story? Chabad is all about love, baby. 

Third story: Reb Mendel Futerfas once said, "Why by the orthodox world is an engagement celebration called a "Tenaim", literally "conditions", while in Chabad it's called a "Vort", a saying? Because when a Bochur leaves Yeshiva, it's a descent for him, from the rarefied air of Torah learning down to the corporeal world of our mundane lives. This is helped along by the Yetzer Hora, the evil inclination. So by the rest of the orthodox world, they make conditions, have a give and take with the YH. But by Lubavitch, we tell the YH what's what. He has no say." And nowadays, Lubavitch doesn't even have a Vort, we have a Lchaim. Why? Because even talking to the YH can be dangerous, so we just say Lchaim. Point of the story? With yourself, no love, you've got to be firm. 

And the fourth story? Here goes: Reb Yoel Teitelbaum, the Divrei Yoel, former Rebbe of Satmar, was once asked why in the Torah, the laws of personal dealings, Parshas Mishpatim, comes right after the giving of the Torah, in Parshas Yisro, while in Shulchan Oruch it's the final section? So Reb Yoel explained. We try to avoid a court case, the application of the final section of Shulchan Oruch, because it's strict judgement, and someone's bound to get hurt. Two people can't both be right. So instead the Rabbis try to make a compromise. But when it comes to Torah, you must immediately know right from wrong, there can be no compromise! The point of the story is, even Satmar has some cool stuff. 

Haveil Havalim 213: It's been a long time

It's now 2:40 AM and I'm just now beginning to compose this week's Haveil Havalim. But wait! What is a Haveil Havalim? I never thought you'd ask. 

Founded by Soccer Dad, Haveil Havalim is a carnival of Jewish blogs -- a weekly collection of Jewish & Israeli blog highlights, tidbits and points of interest collected from blogs all around the world. It's hosted by different bloggers each week and coordinated by Jack. The term 'Haveil Havalim,' which means "Vanity of Vanities," is from Kohelet, (Ecclesiastes) which was written by King Solomon. King Solomon built the Holy Temple in Jerusalem and later on got all bogged down in materialism and other 'excesses' and realized that it was nothing but 'hevel,' or in English, 'vanity.'

As everyone who's anyone knows, we're right now in the days of Sefirah, between Pesach, the festival of our liberation, and Shavuos, the festival of the giving of the Torah, otherwise known as Pentecost. These 49 days were originally quite joyous and whatnot, but then a bunch of Rabbi people had to go around disrespecting each other, and BOOM! G-d cuts them up something cruel, which resulted in the something cruel practice of acapella music. Actually, I spent a good twenty minutes trying to explain to someone tonight why the whole thing was bunk anyway, but she wouldn't listen, and in commemoration of that failed attempt I'll be classifying every post presented here with a song that I think would go well with it. Don't listen to these songs, of course, because that would be a mortal sin (according to her), but maybe on Lag B'omer you come back here to get the full list and give me some hits, you wonderful people you. 

All right, on with the show. I was thinking that the Rebbe was always particularly about opening with Dvar Malchus (Torah), so here we are. Paul Kipnes over at Or Am I? presents Redemption Comes Thru Singing, which would seem, to me at least, to fit in with Avraham Fried's Baruch Haboh from Shtar Hatnoim. 

Next up is a delightful entry from muse over at Shiloh Musings, Birkat HaChamah Videos none of which I watched, but which I'm sure are well worth watching. By the by, my friend Yossi had a nice little exposé of the whole thing with his Correction, which at the time brought me great joy. And oh yes, appropriate music for muse's would be Yaakov Shwekey's Shehechiyanu from Shomati, and Yossi's post would go very nicely with a dash of Ich Hob Gevart from MBD's album of the same name.

Continuing in the sun-worship (blessing, whatever) vein is Yisrael Medad's And The Sun Rose Over Shiloh, whose musical accompaniment would be Shlomo Carlebach's Hiney Lo Yanum (I have no idea from which album).

My own humble contribution to this group of Torah words, Almonds too, would go well with the Marcus Brother's Furt a Yiddeleh from the very first 8th Day album.

 One of the problems I have with frum Jews is that traveling with 'em is always a major Chillul Hashem (the title song of 8th Day Vol II: Brooklyn, or maybe even the title song of Lipa Schmeltzer's Lipa Baderech?); with that in mind, here's this week's Anti-Semitism.

We'll start off with a dose of LB who blogged Responding to ?New? Antisemitism which ends off with a call for mass emigration to the Zionist entity, which is good enough for me to recommend Ron Eliran and Amos Ettinger's Sharm el-Sheikh. 

Next up is muse's Will The U.S. Stop This Deal?. The deal referenced is one selling drones to Russia, and I just have to wonder, do we really want to sell military shtuff to Medevev and Putin? I mean, these are the same dudes who blasted the heck out of Georgia this past summer... hmm, come to think of it, wasn't Israel selling military goods to the Georgians also? Are they trying to replicate US policy in South America in the early fifties? On that note I'd have to recommend Moshe Kravitsky's Schizophrenic Soul.

And that concludes this week's peek at the jerks who hate us. Next up? Culture. Woohoo! I can tell your excited. First up is Lady-Light and Our Illustrious Guest. It would seem to me that this would be a good time to say that the best thing about gezheh is six feet under, but it does seem like the guest lived up to his illustrious heritage, so I won't. I'll just mention that Yosef Karduner's Sheimot Hatzadikim from Choice would seem to fit the bill here. 

Mark has Major League Baseball Opening Day Rosters, all about the amazing Joe Mauer, Justin Morneau, and now, Jason Kubel...I'm just kidding. It's actually about Craig Breslow, our beloved Jewish Twin who has not started the season off to well, but at least he has that sefirah beard going for him. Speaking of Sefirah, how about some Sefirah music? Lipa Schmeltzer's Men Darf Bahalten from Leeilu Uleeilu, which seems to fit in nicely with the whole beginning theme Mark is working at over here. 

And that's it for culture. Good thing, because I was never big into culture. History though, that's more my line. Muse (my, she's been busy as a bee) wants us all to Remember The Titanic! Honestly folks, is anyone ever going to forget it? Just to make sure you don't, go listen to Benny Friedman's (btw, Mazel Tov!) Achas Shaalti. 

Ben-Yehudah has Jewish Naqba النكبة which is all about the Jews who were kicked out of Muslim lands with nary a penny of compensation. I'm not sure who sang it originally, I think Amudei Shaish, but MBD and Baruch Abittan did a fine job with Yizkereim at Hasc XV.

All good things must come to an end, but don't worry, there's (hu)more on the horizon! Sorry, I know that was bad. I couldn't resist that introduction for Humor. Get it? Great.

Muse (holy smokes, she must be working overtime!) has an Important Annoucement! for us all, and while your reading, listen to Chaim Israel's The Blue Sky from Garden of Life.

Shtetl Fabulous was getting a manicure and came up with Tatu Tattoo which would be nicely accompanied by ibid's Playing on Pain from ibid.

Toby Curwin has Duck Duct - Redux which features some snikcohg snleilpg, which could only be rectified with Piamenta's Slach Na from Big Time.

Elisson has a cute post ON RED SEA PEDESTRIANS which reminded me of Shlomo Simcha singing Shlomo Carlebach's Moshe v'Aharon on Hasc XV.

I had a cute little post Dear TRS: Reality sets in answering your questions, and because Kiddush Hachodesh is all about math, why don't you listen (on Lag B'omer, of course) to Lipa Schmeltzer's Kiddush Levana from Letova?

And foremost in our minds if last on the humor list is our mentor and sage JackB telling us all about The Best Clothing You'll Ever Own, which at first I kind of doubted, but now? I'm a believer. Speaking about belief, how about Miami Boy's Choir's Ani Maamin from It's Min Hashamayim (a cop-out, I know)?

Rahel starts off Israel by paying A Visit to the Light Rail Depot which is cool. I may be a staunch conservative, but I love trains. Is there a better song to listen to on a train than Abie Rotenberg's Ride the Train from the second Journeys? I think not.

Yisrael Medad wonders at those who aren't staunch conservatives in Jeremy, J Street Jew and Roger Cohen Keeps Getting Tougher which would go nicely with a little Arabic Medley from Sameach Music's Sephardic Dance Mix 1. And yes, I know they're Persians, not Arabs. 

LB complains about morons in the Israeli army and media with Religious Soldiers and the Establishment, which put me in mind of Avraham Fried's Aleh Katan.

Ben-Yehudah waters the mouth with Jealous?, though I'm not sure why anyone would have to toivel a brand new BBQ. Having problems with digestion? Listen to ibid's Adon Hashalom from Chazak for peace and calm.

Karen has some photos of The KOTEL on Pessach. Wish I was there. Jerusalem is Calling (Avraham Rosenblum, title track).

Eric tells all of us that Lieberman's Two State Solution might just work, but would it be the best solution? Is there a best solution at this point? Of course there is! It's MBD's Moshiach! (Or anyone's Moshiach, for that matter).

Harry says that Yoga puts religious Israelis in an uncomfortable position, and that TV’s The Office to open a Petach Tikva branch, and that Foto Friday - Yuval Nadel takes to the air. Those are all pretty self-explanatory, no? And I think Dudu Fisher's Lo Yarda Shechina from Odecha would sound good right around now. Work out the connection yourself, I can't think of one.

Joel Katz asks, "Hey, where can you get all the articles dealing with religion & state in Israel -- in ONE place, every week, including ultra-Orthodox, Reform, Conservative, Orthodox, Secular points of view -- you name it... Religion and State in Israel is the only review of media coverage on issues of religion and state in Israel. Religion and State in Israel is not affiliated with any organization or movement." The answer is that it's all at Religion and State in Israel - April 13, 2009, which is simply begging for Oif Simchos' Tzarich Liyot B'yachad from Od Avinu Chai.

Oh, this is a surprise. It's Ben Yehudah with some Jewish Music! He asked, What's Different About This "Mah Nishtanah?" Go listen and find out. Convenient, no, that I didn't even have to come up with my own song for that one?

Now it's time for Judasim our oft-misunderstood religion. Lady-Light gives us another song with Ki Ata Kadosh. . ., straight from Adi Ran.

Mordechai Torczyner, the Rebbitzen's Husband (but aren't we all [females excepted]?) explains what I have always believed in A Tale of Two Loves: 3-day Yom Tov, and Shir haShirim (Song of Songs) which puts me in mind of Avraham Fried's Around the Year (title track).

Shvach Yid defends himself in Schvach - פני דל  and let me say that "Hey, I'm a Lubavitcher, and I read at least this post!" He also blogged about Schvach - פני דלa and even though it looks like it's the same post, it's really two posts. The London School of Jewish Song performed at one of the early Hasc concerts-that would seem to fit the bill here.

Home Shuling has The ultimate in home shuling which sounds like it's about Chabad Houses but is actually about Pesach. Ken Burgess provides the soundtrack with The Hero from I'll Never Walk Alone in the Desert.

Leora Wenger writes strictly for orthodox Jews (no peeking!) in Banging on the Bimah, which goes nicely with Country Yossi's Deaf Man in the Shteeble.

David Curwin gets all dikdukey on us with omer, all about the history of the word omer and the phrase sefirat haomer, which goes well with Vetaher from Lipa Schmeltzer's Letova.

Mordechai Torczyner, The Ugly Side of Kashrus Recommendations, which is very interesting (and disturbing), coupled with Gershon Veroba's Bugs, from Just One Shaitel, makes a new beginning for Kashrus,  and Baila ends it off with some delicious-looking Challah on Happy Day-after-Pesach! I hope there's no bugs involved in that! 

Now we're onto Personal, and Elisheva has a whole lot of personal shtuff going on at Update: Freedom and all that. How about some Bein Kach u'Bein Kach from Avraham Fried (title track)?

Yoav B made it on, no worries, with Passover in the IDF: The true meaning of Freedom, which touched even this cynical old blogger, as did Lipa Schmeltzer's Yoishvei Eretz Yisroel from A Poshite Yid.

GP talks about horses in Blessed by the Best « Manely Montana, and even though I don't like the beasts much myself, I do like Avraham Fried's Al Tirah from Bein Kach u'Bein Kach.

Politics it is to end the night, and Barbara begins it with Wah! Wah! Israel's Bullying Us!, which sounds like a cry for help, or at least The Sydenham Choir's L'Dor Vador, from Shabbat.

Shmuel Sokol will end it for us here folks, with Foreign Policy's "evenhandedness" unfair to Israel, and it seems like as good a time as any for Moshe Kravitsky's American Lies.

And that's all folks! Sheesh, it's been fun, and make sure to submit your next post with the carnival submission form, and check out all the old haveil's at the blog carnival index page. So long, and thanks for all the gefilte fish!

The last of the Litvaks

So here I am, at an obscene time of the night, listening to Yosef Karduner's a capella; and now it's the same style from the Friedman family. My point? Pesach has passed over, and now we're in that six week period between the festival of Matzos and Pentecost, characterized by a severe lack of hair cutting and other forms of merriment. The more religious/gullible among us also refrain from listening to proper music, and so we're left with vocal efforts. Happens to be that these two albums were excellently produced, but they still can't compare to the majesty that is any one of the old MBD or Avraham Fried albums. Oh well, what can be done?

Meanwhile, in other news, this afternoon I walked a disappointing 9.6 miles from beautiful S. Paul, MN, to not-quite-so beautiful but-not-entirely-without-charm S. Louis Park. I call the walk disappointing because I thought it nearer to thirteen or fourteen miles than sub-ten, but I suppose I'll get over it. Every year there's a, in the words of Rabbi Lieff, "Neilas Hachag, or as it's known here, Seudas haGra, or as it's known by Chassidim, Moshiach Seudah." A wit among us (moi) suggested that in fact it was not only the neilas hachag but also the neilas harav. That's right, Rabbi Lieff is leaving the community, moving onto greener pastures, i.e. the Agudah Shul on Nostrand and Avenue L. What will next year bring? Who knows? I for one can't wait to find out.