pack (maybe the worst blog entry ever)

Wanderingstu is in a grouchy way, dear reader. Not because of a woman or a class or a frustrated attempt to do this or that or this. Rather, as those who know me most deeply will surely deduce, because i am packing for a trip.

perhaps the worst-ever was packing to come to Israel. This summer I spent weeks in psychic agony, tormenting Troy and Jillian and probably the rest of Brooklyn and lower Manhattan with my rantings, my packings and unpackings my contemplations and my detailed schematic drawings.

In the end, I got to Israel and wished I had more sweaters and more plastic bags and more vitamin tablets. I ended up paying an overage weight on baggage, and could have slipped in an extra 50lbs with my new overage alotment.

But none of that is the issue. The issue is that
JASON AND SARAH GOT ENGAGED IN YELLOWKNIFE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (sarah's hometown) MAZAL TOV!!

It's just proof that having your photo featured on wanderingstu.com is a guarantee of good fortune, especially in matters of the heart.


I don't look like that anymore, by the way.

But anyhow, Esta is here, and we are leaving tomorrow for a week up north, and I am packed as though we are trekking across Asia Minor to do pilgrimage at the shrine of Turkish False Messiah Shabbtai Tzvi of Smyra.

Uh.... what am i saying?
Right. So one bag has the menorah; one bag has the 58 books I NEED so i can be a good yeshiva boy while i skip class for three weeks; one large bag has lots of clothes so i don't have to be too stinky; one bag has the computer and other mildly fun stuff; one bag has snacks and tea; one bag is a space heater in case esta gets cold; one bag makes you smaller, one bag makes your larger.

Truth-be-Told, I am tired, and tired of this post. So pretend you never read it,
and accept glorious Hanukah-Christmas-JaySarRog Day-New Years wishes from me and mom.

much love

My best friend is exceedingly more cuter than yours

And he's not afraid to hug the devil.

I was hanging out in Tel Aviv the other night with someone excellent and, on the way out of Yafo, passed this little candle store that had a little Christmas tree in the window. Aaaahh... I miss Christmas, and all the lights and smells and new yorkiness and hullaballoo, and eggnog flavored burgers from White Castle. And I miss you, cuddly reader.

I went to sleep and woke up at all the wrong times including a mouse-invoked midnight arousal that lasted several hours. It may not have been a mouse; it may have been my friend Snotty the cat lurking in the rafters of the trailer, or my friend Micha the South African coming home late and doing his thing. Irregardably regardless, right not I am hungry, haven't had my old man oatmeal yet, and have shirked several of my duties to spirit, mind and body, duties to Am Yisrael, The Holy One of Being and myself.

But shimmy on a shingle if my Jason Rogers isn't the mostest.

Esta comes to town Tuesday night. First time here in 18 years. First time ever hanging out with the religious fanatics I now call mispacha. 'sgonna be live, folks. Good times ahead.

terms to clarify:

am yisrael- The people Israel
Esta- My mom (mom Yisrael)
mishpacha- All Y'all- the fam'ly

men of spirit

here's something from a yeshiva around the corner from us, from a fellow named Rav Aharon Lichtenstein. sounded pretty good to me, especially these days, when i'm feeling like a man of no spirit-- but of many dreams:

The requirement to acquire all this by the time one leaves yeshiva is, of course, quite difficult. Nevertheless, there is, perhaps, one central point whose realization it is reasonable to hope for. It is fair to hope that one completing his yeshiva studies will leave a spiritual person, one in whose heart beats an eternal spirit, one who thinks and weighs, builds and plans, in a manner different from that of the pragmatic technocrats who fill the world. This is not a small thing. When God calls upon Moshe to appoint Yehoshua in his stead, He defines to the new leader in one phrase: "a man who has spirit in him" (Bamidbar 27:18). The word "spirit" has multiple meanings: it includes courage and prophecy, wisdom and fear of God. What, if not these, distinguishes the Messiah? (See Yeshayahu 11.) In this, everyone is obligated.

The Talmud (Berakhot 55b) states: "Anyone who goes seven days without a dream is considered wicked." Anyone capable of traveling on a path for one complete cycle - a full week - with everything in its proper place and according to its routine, without any striving, without a spirit pulsating and screaming to break out of the routine - such a person is wicked. A good person strives, dreams, and thinks. He dreams about achieving greatness, scope and depth, and clinging to God. The particular dream each person must decide for himself. Although the actualization is not always up to us, surely the individual in whom there is spirit can become a dreamer.

Get off the bus, Jewboy

So my friend Avraham held the bus for me, while I ran like a maniac to pack my backpack. I zoomed back and leapt onto the bus, en route to Jerusalem to launder some borrowed sheets, to bring my famous blue raincoat to Shalom the Tailor, and to meet with some good folks for tea and sympathy.

On the bus, I felt around-- no phone. Ach!! No phone. I panicked, then felt every pocket another 3 times, then checked the backpack and other places in which the phone could not possibly be. No phone. I must have dropped it while running.

"Oh well," I told myself, "I don't really need a phone, do I?"

Well of course I did. How else to call Jeffrey and Raz and Shalom the Tailor?? I don't even have their numbers, except on the phone. Stop the bus- I lost my phone!!!

Bus driver (in Hebrew): You lost it, or you forgot it??

Huh-- if I had merely forgotten it, would he have refused to stop and let me off??

He stopped at the top of the big hill, I jumped out. Feet hit the ground, and I bellow- as barbaric a yawp as I can muster. Argh. The urge to give the Finger to the One Who Createth All electrifies my tongue. Luckily, my reason set in, and I did not curse the Maker [thanks, Dr. B_.]. Rather, I screamed to the Heavens:

What the F*&@ was that all about??!!

A bold challenge if there ever was one, I reckon...

At that moment, I turned my head and saw a rare sight in Bat Ayin (never seen before, in my case): A group of 4 or 5 deer sprinting across the forest. Beautiful. Pristine. Perfect.

"So that's what that was all about," I muttered, effectively humbled, and walked back to town.

A walk in the park in Romania

While discussing times of high-livingness and moments of sudden, ecstatic resolution in my life (perhaps I should detail some of these someday-- you might find one or two in your wanderingstu: romania archive), I uttered some sort of pithy summation of my deepest yearnings:

The point of life is to be tapped into the true source of being.

Ugh.
It sounded great on a hillside overlooking the terraced olive groves.
Now it sounds like poopy.
But I wanted to get it out there.

Wanderingstu.com is a soundingboard, brethren and sistren, not a polished museum piece.
Now get some damn comments up here before i cry again.

The Ultimate Ends of Strict Logic is the Nothingness of Love

Or something like that-- good thing I'm not a philosopher: those guys are all about the catchphrases.

The Gemara (the Talmud), employs wild contortions of deep deep logic to prove various positions of Divine Law. All sides of a case are explored, torn apart, and, very often, shown to follow a brilliant course of rational proof. I say that it's night, you say that it's day, and we both prove, beyond a reasonable doubt, that our position (savara) is right.

And thus, God's will is interpreted and brought down into the world as a somewhat ascertainable reality.

Of course, the true essence of the Holy One, BBH, is ungraspable to finite creatures, transcendent beyond language, ultimately hidden. The true name of God-- the Yud-Heh-Vav-Heh is unspeakable -- encompassing all Creation, and yet infinitely greater and deeper than it.

And then there's love (among other human frailties...). I have, in the past, in times of emotional crisis, explored the viability of a love relationship by using the incisive logic style of the Gemara, developing savaras for every possible position: it's good; it's no good; it'll get better; it's broken beyond belief; we should be married; i'm in love; i'm not in love but we should get married anyway; she makes great tamales; i'll never be loved again; what would esta say......

and in that way, on the page ("inside," as we say in yeshiva), this Talmudic logic works, proves that the ultimate truth of each and every position IS the supreme Emet (emes- "truth"). Therefore, since every contradictory position is the Ultimate Truth-- the Ultimate Truth is a giant self-contradiction, which cancels out all reasoning, and reveals itself to be-- NOTHING.

Nothing in my mind, at least.

It's as if, by using all of our mental faculties to bring God into the world, we've succeeded by showing that God, The Holy One of Being, is the very negation of all thought, all logic.

{hey-- it's 1:00am after a long day. you didn't come to wanderingstu.com for sensicality anyway. quit sniggering and read on}

And so, logic ultimately fails the test. analysis goes out the window, and just have to DO God's Will, and then figure it out. The Book of Names (Exodus) has the People Israel responding to God's command-- Na'aseh v'Nishma!! "We'll do it!! Then we'll figure it out..."

[yo-- i'm talking about love and Gemara, not killing people or stealing or beating up old ladies-- in those cases, use some damn logic]

[yo-- chances are, i don't even KNOW what I'm talking about. that's why I'm becoming a rabbi...]

So you move with the gut, and pursue the Emes. And when you reach the Throne of Glory, before which ALL is Revealed and Known, you say "Amen, Selah! Ain't the Lord Good!?"
And if your gut is all tangled up-- uh, well, uh, my unsubtle message to the Universe is-- pursue love & connection, for they are the highest values.

And when you fall on your face and forget there even EXISTS a Throne of Glory-- then Rebbe Nachman says "Azam'ra l'Elohai b'Odi-- I shall sing out to My God with what little I have left."

Sing on, holy fools and friends.

and if anyone made sense of any of this, let me know. because i'm not proofreading tonite.

hold on to faith in faith

someday i will throw up. my questions. and thoughts on faith. for now, that previous post is just like a little dangling skin tag or vestigial organ or preemie in a Jar.

Don't forget to read the comments on these posts, especially if you have posted a comment-- sometimes someone brilliant (or perverse or rapacious) will comment on your comment. What fun.

Today is Thursday, Yom Hamishi (day 5) of the week. Tomorrow I go to Jerusalem, as I do almost every Shabbat, to be a part of a new minyan that prays together in my neighborhood on Shabbat. Besides having a coveted seat on the minyan's Council of Elders, I am the Gabbai, which means that I make announcements, push guys out of the way when they are obstructing the ladies' walkway, keep my eye out that everyone is happyish and comfortable. Most importantly, I run the Torah service, assigning aliyahs and giving blessings in a way that I would describe as amateurish, but my friend Raz, who is the Rav of the minyan (but don't tell him that) calls, "filled with wonder."

To which a friend of mine added (in my voice) -- "I wonder what I'm supposed to do up here."

Shabbat Shalom!!!

tell someone you love them today. Even if you don't mean it. (no-- mean it)

what the hell is faith??

more to come... until then, yiyeh tov-- it's all good

The Gemara is

real milk chocolate- I love that Hershey bar.

Actually, The Gemara Requires:
deep concentration, creative thinking, patience, energy, fire, the ability to read Aramaic and Hebrew interspersed, a sharp legal mind, durability, endurance, other words based on the (presumably Latin) root dur.

Wanderingstu Has:
a scattered mind, flighty dreams, visions of love, rock n roll on his lips, mild depressive episodes, a lack of patience, and someone elusive and lovely on his mind.

Wanderingstu's encounter with today's Gemara was:
brief, frustrating and unsatisfying.

If a bull chews on a child's hand- evaluate the value of the limb according to the going rate in the slave market. But in Babylonia we do not assess fines, so why even evaluate?

Good question.

the pain of his sinister lies

So I warned Esta ahead of time, but several other sweet friends took me too seriously, so I will have to issue the following statement for the record:

I am not engaged to a 19-year old. I am not a rabid Arab Hater. I am not a radical religious fanatic.

I am living at Bat Ayin right now. We are kinda wacky out here, but nothing to be afraid of. I am considering leaving HUC for good and pursuing Rabbinicism here in the hills.

Funny little typo: At first i typed "I am considering leaving HUC for god..." But it was inadvertent.

By the way-- my cousins Doug & Stacy just had a baby!! MAZAL TOV!! Sophie Lauren Weiner. She is little and tiny and cute and she is my first cousin once removed.

Praise the Lord.

(by the way-- i am still holding a bitter and babyish attitude towards the rest of you, fanatacism or not)

for the first time, Stu is frank and overemotional

Besides my wonderful aunt barbara (the redneck), it seems that no one gives a big fat rat butt about wanderingstu.com . being neurotic and isolated on a hill in the west bank with a bunch of ultra-orthodox warriors, i feel the need for some love from my old school gang all the more acutely. even my mom and sister don't read the blog. my own sister doesn't even email me. even elijah, who i dressed and bathed and taught how to pee standing up doesn't email me. tommy is probably passed out somewhere in the Mission, so he has an excuse, but otherwise, the only thing sadder than my friends abandoning me is the ridiculous babyish way in which i am whining about it. but it's true. i could list names, but i won't.

so i thought i'd let you know here, since you never write:

i quit HUC, am moving to Bat Ayin full time to claim the land in the name of Hashem, who promised it to our forefathers. the rabbis here have introduced me to a nice young girl, Rivka Sarah. She is 19, and is almost done with her army service. we met and had coffee a week ago, then i took her to dinner last night, and after shabbat i am going to propose to her. i will be learning here for the next 5 years, then i will be an orthodox rabbi, after which i will, with God's help, move to Hebron to help keep the enemy away from the Maarat Machpelah, the tomb of our ancestors Avraham, Yitzhak and Yaakov. the arabs think it is theirs, and i am ready to fight for the truth.

bad blogger, bad.

uh, first of all, no comments makes me sad. : ( (sad emoticon)

secondly, I thought it would be responsible blogging to report that the aforementioned romantic relationship was disbanded 2 weeks ago. So stop sending flowers and willow-branch wreaths. {I'm okay, don't worry-- getting yer tuchas into the Sukkah does wonders for the soul}

thirdly, not to tear down the walls of this little microcosm here at wanderingstu.com, but I am leaving HUC on a [temporary] leave. I am going back to Bat Ayin [temporarily] to learn Torah and explore the possibility of getting Rabbinic Ordination (smicha) there instead.

Read the last post for some explanatory information.

This week in stunews: Esta survived the hurricane with no damage, having held up a glass door for an hour. And Elijah Gazman just turned 7-- Mazal Tov!!

Have a great week!! No more hurricanes, okay??!

and the moment of truth approaches

Wow, friends, my first complete High Holiday Cycle-- what a ride! From Slichot before Rosh Hashanah, to a week of shaking the Lulav, and finally a wild Simchat Torah all day today and last night. It's really amazing how deep this stuff can be, and how joyous these Jews are when in the thick of it. (Forgive me for not writing much and forgive me for not explaining all those weird Hebrew words up there-- it's late, I gotta sleep, I been busy, I'm lazy, etc...)

What happens, wanderingstu.com fans, when you come back to the place where you once truly felt at home, and you realize that you are home-- not like home in Israel, never to return, but home in terms of lifestyle, community, spirit in the air-- home in the existential sense? What happens when you remember what quickened your soul the most in this world, and then wake up to the incompatability of this realization with your current situation??

That's the question of the month (of the year)-- and I'll leave it with you now, vague as it is, and hope for some valuable insights from all y'all (whoever is out there... are you out there??????)

Much love- hoping to see you all soon.

The Awesome Day of Awe- The Day- The Sabbath of Sabbaths

I can't give a full report of Yom Kippur in Bat Ayin, because I have to shower (stinky!) and put the final touches on my sermon for this Shabbat at HUC.

BUT, here's a few brief factoids on this Yom Kippur:

- We were praying in the Beit Midrash (where we learn and pray) from 6:30am until 7:00 this evening.

- Unlike most synagogues, where lots of older folks are there to say Yizkor, the whole room cleaned out- only 5 out of maybe 30 guys had lost parents. Heavy.

- In the feverish last moments before the final shofar blasts, I really broke open the shackles of my heart by seeing the faces of all my loved ones before me, and praying that all of them (all of you, that is) should have an amazing year filled with love, blessing, peace and happiness. I also did a lot of screaming for total healing for all of our afflictions, so may we all be healthy this year.

- We caught a ride back to Jerusalem with a guy who was doing like 80 mph through the West Bank while I sang Guns n' Roses and held onto my kippah for dear life.

- A friend of mine is always talking about how he wants to do a full prostration at Yom Kippur services, but is afraid that the congregation would fire him if he even tried. One time a few years ago, Esta and I saw the hazzan (cantor) do the full prostration before the ark at a service at the Woodlands Country Club in Tamarac. These two guys stood beside him and helped him up, kinda like a James Brown routine.

This year, both at Bat Ayin and for Rosh Hashanah in Jerusalem, we ALL did it-- towels, napkins, rugs on the floor, and down we go, all splayed out before the Lord, Praise His Name!! Good stuff. I took the opportunity to pop in some yoga and held child's pose for a while to give my aching body a rest after about 8 hours of prayer....
________
That's all for now. Some bookmarks. Please remind me, someone, to dicuss:
...Tramping
...Bat Ayin (with photos)
...Our new Jerusalem minyan
...that's all i can remember (other topics 0f interest)

I'm on vacation!! Hope you're having fun too.....

My Name is Nachman, and I Don't Stutter

Her name is Tamuz. There, I said it. She was born in the US, but is an Israeli. She sings. She is adorable. She did better than me on the S.A.T. When I revealed her existence (or at least her connection to me), Esta asked 2 questions. The first one was brilliant:

Is she Jewish?

Then Mom gave me some very sweet advice: Keep it Light. {insert cacophony of guffaws here}
Well, beloved friends, any of you who have spent any time here at wanderingstu HQ know that it ain't so easy for this stu to "Keep it Light." But I try....

For example- on Sunday we are going shopping at the mall and to see a bad American movie. How's that for light?? I'm hoping to find an Orange Julius.

But this is the point:
Walking Tamuz home tonite after the Opera (!!!), we were stopped three times by people in cars asking how to get to the Kotel (the Western Wall). Of course, we were on the opposite side of town, but folks enter Jerusalem, make the wrong turn, and end up down by us. No sweat. Small city, easy drive. The first two requests were little hatchbacks filled with secular Sefardi guys in their early 20s. The final request was from a bunch of religious guys.

After saying goodnite to Tamuz, I returned via the same route, along a wooded path overlooking an old old monastery, the Kenesset building and the Israel Museum (home of the Dead Sea Scrolls). When I hit the big intersection, I was summoned again to give directions. This time to the Liberty Bell Park. And this time, it was a bunch of secularish Sefardi kids, all wearing giant kippot, and two of them specifically with Na-Nach-Nachma-Nachman MeUman Kippot.

These Sefardi kids love to wear these Nachman kippot, and sing Breslover songs, and act like Chasids. It's crazy. Tamuz and I met a pack of them on a school trip in Nachlaot (my Holy Neighborhood). All the guys had the Nachman Kippah. And they love to speak with the heavy Ashkenazi accent-- "You are Breslev?"

But I miss the best part-- this car full of Sefardi pseudo-Breslover kids was driven by a Sefardi pseudo-Brelover MIDGET!!!!!!!!!! And that dude was the leader of the gang. Hot stuff, kids-- only in Jerusalem.

By the way, the whole Na-Nach thing started many years ago when Rabbi Israel Ber Odesser didn't fast properly on the Fast of Tamuz. Feast or famine, baby.

A Gmar Chatimah Tovah to all of you-- which means-- May you be inscribed in the Book of Life for Blessing, Happiness, Length of Days and Health.

I wish you all a profound and meaningful fast.

Smooth Criminals

A very special friend of mine wanted to go dancing last week. I admonished her, suggesting that a dance party was not appropriate to these Yamim Noraim- Days of Awe and Judgment. She went anyway, God bless her beautiful soul. That night, in that Jerusalem "coincidence" kind of way, I met a close pal of hers. He suggested that dancing during the Yamim is perfectly appropriate, if one is "dancing for redemption." What better, he asked?? And since he was cute and went to Yeshiva of Flatbush and comes with the Seal of Approval of the aforementioned very special friend of mine, I took it to heart. And told her so. And I think she was glad-- since it's Tati who judges, not wanderingstu, right? She got some dancing in that night, and she deserves a lot more, and I owe her a bit of dancing myself.

[Tati-- Abba, Avinu Malkeinu, HaKadosh Baruch Hu, Hashem, God, the Good Lord--- Tati is really the best name yet that I've found for Him. Although it does force and occasional male pronoun, which is not desired...]

Dance your souls to redemption, beautiful friends. But, contrary to the great R&B track (which I was singing two weeks ago in the streets of Tel Aviv)-- I do see something wrong with a little bump n' grind. I mean, drunkenly humping your neighbor (or a stranger) in un-awareness of the awesomeness of these Days probably doesn't exercise the soul and give drink to the thirsty spirit. Feels nice on the uglies and the ego, though.

But dance-- in a field, in your room, in the shul, in the street, Lawdy, Lawdy!

In honor of a girl named after a month named after a pagan deity, and in honor of the pain and joy and scariness and ultimate glory that is life, love, Jerusalem, the High Holidays and Tati Himself, Avraham Eliezer and I danced our tuchas off last night while listening to a little Michael Jackson. White hats optional.

God willing, our booty-shaking (and yours) will raise the holiness of all Am Yisrael, all the world, and maybe even rub off on poor MJ, who seems to have lost the funk in recent years, after all the beauty (albeit oft with macabre lyrics) he gave us.

Dance friends, dance-- and walk slowly and with open hearts, for the Gates of Judgment are open.

Have a great week. (And write some damn comments).

return, return to Me

Haven't been sleeping much-- too much to talk about, narrow streets to walk, odd people to encounter, soup to eat, nothings to murmur in someone's ear...

Rosh Hashanah/ Yom Kippur-- it ain't about sin, but rather missing the mark. Not fully being the person you are capable of being. None of us ever fill the bill totally-- there is always something that falls short, in our relationships, ways of dealing with our own health, connection to the environment, care for our fellow humans...

Tshuvah means "return," not "repentance." Return to our Maker, return to a state of inner calm and confidence, return to our loved ones, return to our truest selves. Return to holiness.



When Reb Zusia was on his deathbed he said:

In heaven they aren't going to ask me, "Why weren't you more like Abraham?" or "Why weren't you more like Moses?" Of course not. When I get to heaven they will ask me, "Why weren't you more like Zusia?" And for this, I will have no good answer.

Our prayers of Tshuvah are meaningless if we have not sought reconcilation from the people we have hurt. And so please, please, beloved readers... Accept this as my Tshuvah:

If I have hurt or offended you in any way-->
- by neglect
- by obnoxious acts or comments
- with malice
- without malice
- by not controlling my urges and impulses
- by not containing my dark moods
- by ignoring your voice
- by not communicating enough
- by talking too much
- by being judgmental, impatient, curt or scornful
- by being too serious
- by not being serious enough
If I have, in any way, given you less than the total love and respect that you all deserve,

Please forgive me, release me to make Tshuvah with God, and accept my sincerest apologies and wishes for a full reconcilation between us, in love and brotherhood.

And so, Shanah Tovah, a Happy New Year, Chag Sameach, and a Chatimah Tovah-- may you be inscribed for LIFE in the Book of Life.

Have a great Rosh Hashanah

not my baby, by the way

Goodbye brother, hello sister, welcome home to Yerushalayim

Ach, beloved friends (and assorted readers of wanderingstu.com), it's so great to return to the Holy 'Hood of Nachlaot, to walk her streets and really feel home again. Spent an awesome Shabbat with Craig (Dr. B_., that is), in Tzur Hadassah, where his in-laws live. It was a little surreal to be hanging out with the whole family, mom, dad, saba (grandpa), and two siblings, but without Keren "The Favorite" there. I kept looking at them and reminding myself-- "Hey, this is Keren's family!!"

Craig and I spend Thursday night in the desert-- unreal!! More to come on that soon, with photos, I hope.

I have to run and help Rabbi Raz pack up and move his house. And then we are on the short road to Rosh Hashanah. Check back here sometime before Monday night for my big Tshuvah--- I might owe YOU an apology.

So sad to say goodbye to Craig- I love him so much. On the other hand, so sweet to know that, after a long Shabbat, someone out there is excited to see you. May her bus move swiftly across this holy land....

The man comes around

I did the sweetest, most fantabulous, perfect and long-awaiting thing this evening. And I also mopped the ad-hoc synagogue, and ate some sour soup with dumplings.

As I was walking home from this amazing thing, I was doing my hitbodedut, which means I was talking to the Master of the Universe in an out-loud kind of voice, in the style of Rebbe Nachman of Breslov. At one point, I was listing the various responses one might have to a past that is painful, traumatic, tormented, disappointing, or just kinda "eh." I said, "Well, you could be miserable, or you could just give up on life and totally despair-" And just as that thought came out of my mouth, I walked past a dirty car with a dirty bumper sticker on it that I instantly recognized by its ornate lettering----

"Ain shum ya'ush ba'Olam"
which obviously translates to "There is no despair in the world,"

A prerogative for joy, the words of (guess who?) Rebbe Nachman of Breslov.

That Rebbe Nachman, I gotta tell you......

um, yes, okay, here i am and here's what's happening

Blech-- second bad stomach adventure this month---- been running around, running, cleaning, praying, studying, eating, singing, praying and running--- sorry for the lack of updates. A few bullet points:

-- Dr. B_. (Craig) arrived safely and with many hugs at the end of this last Shabbat. We sat in the park the other night, and drank tea yesterday. Tomorrow I am going to Beer Sheva to hear him address the medical students. Thursday night we are camping in the deserrt, then Shabbat with Keren's parents and her Saba (gran'pappy)

-- Lots of amazing people here in the neighborhood. Amazing what a deep and loving community this is. Hope you all can come and see and play.

-- For those of you "down" with the Jewish blog scene (heaven forfend), hand Shabbat with Mobius (Dan) the Orthodox Anarchist-- more famous than ChazarMaveth, and almost as cuddly....

-- That's it. Gotta run. Rosh Hashanah is very soon-- Happy New Year, much health, joy and love for all. Sorry about the short blandness of it all. Just imagine for a moment all the amazing adventures wanderingstu must be having. Ready, set, go.................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................

Better? Great.

Hugs for all.....

You want the truth??? Do ya?? Yeah, I killed it.

This is a photo of the bird I shot. The pheasant I shot in Indiana, Pennsylvania, last winter. The pheasant I shot with a rifle on a chilly Shabbat morning before teaching my Religious school classes in Indiana, Pennsylvania, last winter. The pheasant I shot and then ate, way back then, when we were free and naive.

But, alas, now that we have begun to fully accept the Ol Malchut Shamayim (Oil Malchus Shomoyim- Yoke of the Kingdom of Heaven), and the (we hope) profundity that comes with that much less freedom, we feel a tinge of guilt for having, in the role of Rabbi of Indiana, Pennsylvania, hunted on Shabbos and eaten the unkosher carcass.

A tinge, as noted. A tinge.

And that sucker wasn't even a fair kill anyhow, because, while the other pheasants flew away in terror, making the act of destruction an act of skill, this one just sat in a tree, right above my head. Just sat, and waited to meet its Maker.

Meanwhile, the yoked we is now wrestling with how to attend a wedding celebration in Yaffo (on the beach near Tel Aviv) that takes place on EREV SHABBOS---- that's why I love my secular Israeli friends.

(For those of you wondering if I have become a religious nut-- one glimpse of my fantastic shirtless Michael Jackson dance performance last night will assure you that nothing has changed here at wanderingstu.com.)

Tomorrow night I am going on a midnite hike in the desert by the Dead Sea-- full moon! Then I have my longest day of the week on Tuesday-- classes from 8:30 am - 4:15 pm with NO LUNCH BREAK. Then 11 hours later they expect us to be awake to go on a little field trip to a Sefardi synagogue to hear Selichot (penitential prayers done in the month before Rosh Hashanah). Then the Shabbat Wedding Party three nights later, and then Dr. Craig B_. (see earlier post) arrives in the Holy Land.

What a life! Just don't assume I'm having FUN.

Kisses to all.

The Truth Revealed-- I shoulda gotten an MBA

From the glorious minds at the Onion, the truth about the elusive search for meaning.

Take care, enjoy and be well.

back to the blog

But not to the beach-- i haven't been to the beach at all since i came here... UGH!!

So I had an interaction with a shrimp and a cute waitress at the "eem-ka" (Josh Lobel / J-Lo told me that that's how the Israeli's day "YMCA") in Jerusalem over a week ago. The Y here is not a place for boys in leather to lather each other down and eat hot stew, but rather a fancy hotel and utterly not kosher restaurant.

I didn't mean to say "eat hot stew" up there. I mean I did, but the spelling stands.

It was the day that the Kerber family arrived (Hope, Justin, Small-E, Daisy), and things were not in good shape due to a filthy apartment with an icky couch, so me and Howie G and Jen-O and J-Lo and Liz-Lo were trying to curb the Kerber's ire with some victuals and conversation. So there I am, fresh from the West Bank, sitting at a restaurant in Jerusalem, and i see meat on the menu, and I see cheese on the menu, and i think, "how odd, that isn't proper in a nice israeli restaurant." And then i see SHRIMP on the menu, and I am utterly conflaburgasted by the fact that I was in an unkosher restaurant in Israel. I mean, I once ate in a not-kosher felafel place in Hadera years ago, but still a felafel place, nu? This was my first encounter with the mysterious (and seemingly not-so-elusive) DAVKA GLATT TREYF offerings of the Holy Land. (translation-- totally shrimp, yo).

And i was wearing tzitzit and a kippah, and the waitress was adorable, and i was giddy with the juxtapose-- i mean, six weeks (approx.) Kosher and Shomer Shabbat, and it's like I had forgotten all my porky friends at New York's finest chinese dives.... It was so nutty, and wacky, and, well, shrimpy-----------------I ordered it.

Then washed hands (netillat yadayim) and made appropriate blessings (hamotzi lechem) and ate. And afterwards blessed again (for the good land that He has given us).

That night, or maybe the next, middle of the night, I had a scare that the old "on-the-bathroom-floor-in-utter-internal-distress-begging-God-to-stop-the-pain" adventure was back (see the wanderingstu archives from 1987, 1992 and 2001 for more on Divine Wrath on the bathroom floor). I hung out on the can, then did a little weeping and crying to God, and the pain never got too too bad, but my stomach was a wreck for 2 days. By Friday night it had morphed into the snotty cold, the end of which I am only now, a week later, seeing. (don't end a sentence with a preposition)

It might be fair to mention that the shrimp lunch was followed by a barbecue at my house for a Sheva Brachot (7 days of partying after a Jewish wedding), and my roommate Yaakov, Der Grillmeister, left his duties briefly, and some cat let me eat an undercooked piece of chicken. That trickster God-- dishing out punishment, then giving hard science to defend alternate explanations of reality that aren't as dramatic or sexy.

So I been sick, and spent last Shabbat in utter blech (except for my lovely Shabbat dinner with Julie Weill and the delicious and tiny Ruthie), and had by then sunk into a yicky lonely funk ("crushing depression" is too harsh a word for a specific portion of wanderingstu.com's more delicate readership), which a week of pretty good classes (you can't get overexcited and decide on the semester based on the first week alone), and some pleasant social interactions have done pretty well to alleviate for the moment.

So that's where the blog was and here's where we are now.

Next time I will try to tell you about Ron Golan the cycling scribe, and the mad junkie who got stabbed after we had felafel.

Shabbat Shalom.

"How is your spiritual life?"

A good friend asked me this question in a recent email. I reckon that the question and its response are relevant to our mission here on wanderingstu.com, so i am presenting some of my answer here for all of you all. It's a bit raw, but it's my thoughts, so hey. Hope all is well. Shabbat Shalom:


so i see these guys who are so friggin on fire with God, all whirling around and sighing and psshhh-ing and moaning---

but that ain't me (usually)-- i've been trying to pray 3 times a day, use the liturgy, and also talk to God in my own words in a form of intimate meditative prayer used by Rebbe Nachman of Breslov.

some days are good and others aren't. also been reading these little booklets based on Rebbe Nachman's teachings that promote joy and no despair-

so i sometimes see my thoughts turning in the right direction rather than the wrong, and perhaps these things are helping----

but i feel soulless (as always) without love and without some sort of creative outlet. i live with an accomplished musician- in fact most, of the guys in this Religious-Americans-turned-Israeli crowd with which i hang seem to be musicians. and that gives my spirit a friggen slap in the head, for not practicing, for not taking steps to better myself.

i think the most powerful spiritual idea (for me at least) is humility, real crushing of the ego-- it might help me to have a true love and to play sizzling guitar (or at least to be able to sing some plaintive neil young tunes), but really, the way to be satisfied is to want Nothing. especially since i ain't no impoverished asian monk with a terrible skin condition,,, shit! i have 2 platinum credit cards....

so if i can subdue the ego, that wants to be loved, wants to feel important, skilled, etc, then the world, rather than an endless challenge and frustration, becomes a source of ample blessings and adventures, which is how most people see my life from the outside anyhow.

So i have been trying to cultivate that as well.

But then the next minute, some beautiful woman walks by, or you see some family who "have it all" and you start wanting wanting wanting again..............

So then you breathe again, slowly, deeply, think of that monk with the skin condition, lissen to some more Wilco and Billy Bragg, and try to subdue it all for another hour....

i meant to stick this in weeks ago

but never did, and now it's almost shabbat and i feel sorta bad leaving off like this with such a troublesome statement, but anyway:

A guy here at the Yeshiva told me that my eyes have "that Israeli look." Further inquiry revealed that statement to indicate "a bright sparkling soul light which has been brutalized and crushed."

Felt like I needed to share that.

On Sunday I am going to yet another wedding, a religious one this time, and then moving to Jerusalem. Or perhaps in the other order.

Have a great weekend, and stay in touch.

I have a date with a beautiful French babe

But that's not the point. Tonight I went to a secular wedding with Rav Yehoshua (of Bat Ayin fame). My second wedding this week! I nibbled on the enormous and glorious array of appetizers. He didn't-- you know-- issues with the hekhsher. What's a hekhsher?? Good question. Someone answer.

Cheese? These Israelis have these gorgeous function halls with elaborate gardens and sultry mood lighting. This place was up near Pardes Chana, where I once smoked cigarettes and ate felafel with Amber Rogers, and where Jason met Sara (and, some say, where Harry met Sally). I am going to take this moment to mention how beautiful and smart and kind and generous Sara Kravitz is, in hopes that she might COMMENT ON MY BLOG at least once.

Ah yes-- so the Chuppah (the little tent under which a Jewish wedding is performed) was on a little dock in a little pool in this gorgeous garden. As the bride and groom walked the little bridge to the little dock in the little pool together, the little DJ played a brutal instrumental version of ABBA's Dancing Queen, slowed down and writ grand with the addition of an angelic chorus singing the melody. That's how I want my bride (may she appear in my life soon and in glory) to walk to the Chuppah-- accompanied by ABBA. Or even better, maybe I can get Chris Meade (who has probably never read this blog) to bring his Harpsichord and play an instrumental processional version of Give it to Me, Baby by Rick James, z"l.

But wait-- take 10 steps back. The ABBA begins, the handsome couple approaches the bridge, and when they reach it-- shaznizzle!!! the remote-controlled sparklers explode on the sides of the bridge, spraying sparks of the purest white into the air. Actually a nice touch, and yet.....

But wait-- at the end, at the very instant when the groom smashes the glass in memory of the as-yet-unrebuilt Jerusalem (classic moment in any Jewish wedding), the oh-so-Israeli DJ cues a SOUND EFFECT OF SMASHING GLASS to accompany the just-not-real-enough sound of actual glass breaking---- the music kicks in, and the wild rumpus begins.

This wedding, with the gorgeous people in the gorgeous garden eating gorgeous food also featured a real-live ARAB WOMAN baking pita in an oven-- right there while-you-wait.

Reminds me of that Alabama wedding I once went to where they had the "plantation theme," and a few unkempt Negroes sitting on some bales of hay and pouring black-eyed peas onto freshly-baked cornbread.

Look-- I found a picture of both of the people to whom I referred earlier in this post. And me!! At my big birthday dinner and Karaoke bash. You weren't there? Hell with it, I'm in far-off Israel, I'll tell the truth--- you weren't invited. Really.


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By the way-- tonite I had my worst gin and cranberry ever. Cheap gin, cranberry syrup gunk and the Israeli inability to mix a cocktail. Blech. But all in all, a wicked good time, and a great drive with Rav Yehoshua, who became a Rabbi at JTS, and then moved over into the Orthodox world a few years after.

the ol' mule barge birthright thang

here is the latest installment of a recent email conversation that i have been having. prizes for the most creative (or accurate) interpretation:

No - I just like using the words B'ivrit..I didn't say "Yachmar" which is the same. Donkeys are given a bad rap..or are they mules? Did you ever take the mule barge canal boat ride in New Hope Pennsylvania..all pulled by mules who are supposed to like what they do. This is how it was back in Pennsylvania in those days..mules hauled items up the canal.

Even as you delve deeper stealing someone's birthright seems downright wrong with or without commentary.

Good night,

Alexander Marc Siegel, z"l ; 15 Av, 5765

Tonight is the 2nd Yahrzeit of my father, Alexander Marc Siegel, Avraham ben Shaul, zichrono liv'racha, may his memory be for a blessing. He died of diabetes on 13 August, 2003. He was 59.

Alex loved the pleasures of life. Everything about him was big: his belly, his mouth, his hair (in the 70s), his appetites and his heart. He loved people, and always tried, in his often abrasive and convoluted way, to help those in need. Mark Horn, a Chabad Rabbi from Miami, said this at the funeral (paraphrased by me):

Believe it or not, Alex was one of the most religious men I have known. He passionately pursued the most important Mitzvot of lifting up the downtrodden, of helping the orphan and the widow.

Alex's funeral in South Florida was like the funeral in the movie Big Fish; a motley crew of ex-cons, lawyers, family and men of the cloth turned up to honor his passing.

Famous quote from the funeral from Uncle Jerry, my dad's brother:

My brother touched a lot of people in his life. Where he touched them, I can't say right here, but he touched them nonetheless....

My father died on the 15th of the Jewish month of Av. "Av" means "father" in Hebrew. The 15th of Av, also known as Tu b'Av is like the ancient Israelite Sadie Hawkins day. Supposedly the single women of Jerusalem (or maybe Shiloh...) would go out to the fields on this day and dance around in plain white clothes, and single men would come out and choose a wife from the crowd. Or something like that. A fitting day to remember Alex-- a day of dancing girls.

Tu b'Av is a day of love, a day in which ideas of marriage and love are auspicious. Or at least in the air. May those of us who yet walk alone in this difficult life be blessed, through the memory of my father Alex, to find true love, and holy satiation for all of our appetites.

Shabbat Shalom.

Other Side--- They Suffer Too, and the Guavas die

It's so hard to balance my repulsion and anger at Palestinian hate-mongering and ultra-violent rhetoric on the one hand, and my immense pity for the suffering of the individual Palestinians on the other. Why is the IDF (Israeli Defense Forces) in the territories? To oppress the Palestinians ruthlessly, or to protect the Jews from unstoppable violence? If the Palestinians tolerated a few thousand Jews on their land (8,000 out of 1.4 million people in Gaza), would Israel be less restrictive?

My guess is that we are all playing dirty in this one. (notice how I say "we." but does being a Jew automatically include me in what goes on? philosophically, yes-- and you too)

Look at the second half of this article for some details on how life can be so hard for the Palestinians. Not because of ideological matters, or direct clashes, but because of logistics.

Last night I had a dream that I went to Publix, after hours, to buy eggs for Esta. I know she likes Jumbo, but the Jumbos were all broken, so I told her that she would have to settle for Large eggs. The rest of the dream is too sad to recount.

Shabbat Shalom

More images

All from the Yahoo! news slideshow site. Lots of stuff there.

I hope she comes for Esta's baby next

People love The Onion. That's a fact. Try this tidbit:

Angelina Jolie Coming For Your Baby

MALIBU, CA—Angelina Jolie has filed for adoption of your newborn baby, sources close to the actress reported Tuesday. "Angelina loves your baby, and you should be honored that she has chosen it," said publicist Jacqueline Silver, citing the growing collection of babies Jolie has culled from families worldwide. "Color, creed, whether your child is wanted—none of it matters. Angelina has fallen in love, and through legal means or force, your baby will soon be hers." Immediately after acquiring your child, Jolie will dress it in Betsey Johnson infant wear, give it a faux-hawk, name it after a random passage from the The Tibetan Book Of The Dead, then resume her relentless search for babies.

Images

This stuff is truly heart-rending. And meanwhile, some Israeli monster had to go and kill random Palestinians as an attempt to stop the disengagement/expulsion. Stupid. Let them be the terrorists...

Thanks to Mobius for the link on Jewschool to this enormous photo archive. And for those of you aspiring Jewish hipsters, take note that the 2 top Jew-Cool sites, jewschool and jewlicious, are both deep deep with coverage of this most difficult and sorrowful time. To wit- real cool has substance behind it. That is to say, you won't find coverage of the disengagement/expulsion at Heeb.

Black smoke is still billowing from the fires.

It sounds more intense than maybe it is. That line might be more appropos for a piece on the Shoah (Holocaust) or the 17th century Chielmnicki (sp?) massacres than for the disengagement/expulsion. But it was an intense sentence, so I put it there:

Black smoke is still billowing from the fires.

Anyway, check the Jerusalem Post and Haaretz for lots of coverage on the whole process. Here's an interesting quote, revealing a significant difference between Israeli and American society:

Eliezer, who would not give his last name, said he would not strike soldiers, "but I might possibly hit the police if they come."

Wanderingstu contest!! can you figure out what this quote tells us about Israeli society (hint: how does the structure affect the attitude?)? POst an answer-- and no cheating!! The winner gets something. Here's another powerful quote, expression the mixture of anger and deep sorrow:

She and others plan to stay in their homes until the soldiers come to evict them. "We will fight with all our strength but will not strike anyone. There will not be violence in my house; we have suffered too much already," she said Tuesday.

In Jerusalem itself, things are calm. Business as usual. Time will reveal the wisdom or folly of this move-- unheralded in political history, by the way.

As for those worried about wanderingstu-- here I am. I have been away from my computer since friday, and so that, among other fun facts, accounts for the gap in posting. Among other fun facts.

A couple more tidbits on Gush Katif. This is from a Haaretz piece:

I have lived here for 29 years, Toker replies. And in every one of those 29 years, they came and told me that next year I would not be here. Every year they asked me, Anita, where will you go. And for all those 29 years I have replied to whoever has asked that with God's help, he will come here next year and ask me the same question. I am not blind. I know that this time it is different. It is closer. But look around. Everything is growing here. The settlement is alive. And I am a believing person. Every farmer is a believer. So last week I planted 10,000 celery seedlings. This week I will plant another 10,000. I still believe.

And a last bit of scathing commentary from Daniel Pipes.
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Hope you're having fun, wherever you are. Take some time for a litte late summer enjoyment before August rolls out-- you are all commanded to go swimming! for crying out loud.

I am going to IKEA today...

Living the Vida Estupido

Golly. Even in Israel, stupid, narcissistic crap trumps drive-by shootings and mass-protests any day. (Pardon my slight exaggeration.)

It appears that our own Ricky Martin (he is considered an American, right?) taking up the cause of oppressed Arab children ("As a Latino, I understand your plight") got dressed up pretty like Arafat on international TV. Luckily, a quick meeting with Israel's Consul General in New York cooled the tenuous Israeli-Martin relations.

...as a special gesture he planned to play a concert in Israel on his next world tour in spring. During their meeting [Consul General Arye] Mekel suggested that Martin collaborate with Israeli artists, and Martin replied that he would be happy to do so.

In an attempt to further patch up relations, Martin told Mekel that he learned several Hebrew words from his friends in Los Angeles. He then turned to Mekel and said "my dear" in Hebrew.

At which point the former IDF Navy Seal put Martin into a secret ShinBet choke hold and threatened to crush his wind pipe if he every "Got all smarmy and Latin-like" on his ass again.

Mekel summed up the meeting by saying: "especially in these times when we are busy with issues like disengagement and the Shfaram murder, Martin's arrival in Israel is both a breath of fresh air for issues over and above the conflict, issues that we are interested the media cover."

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Meanwhile, the Jerusalem Post page on which I found this article has a "Google ads," box. So an advertiser pays Google for an ad, and then Google buys as space on various other (and probably more prominent) sites. The ads are supposed to be related to the site on which Google places them. So, for example, if you are selling wheat germ, Google ads might place your ad on a natural cooking site, but not on the Victoria's Secret site. On this particular Jerusalem Post page, the Google ad offered the chance to purchase an article called "Israeli Atrocities." Whoops! The internet is magic.

JPost articles prove that everyone is mean to everyone

Looks like no one can win....

Shoot a Jew;
Ruin an Arab's life.

Do it now--> Talk For Free, to me, to each other

SKYPE.COM
(sorry about no link--> technical difficulties)

SKYPE.COM.
my name is wanderingstu . it's free. it's like IM, but with talking.

do it now

Love from heaven, Discipline on the ground

During the day on Wednesday, thousands of people gathered on a dusty field in the little town of Ofakim to protest the disengagement. It was a lukewarm rally, to be honest. Lots and lots of people (although, in theory, there could have been many more), but not enough fire in the belly. This was no Selma, Rav Natan pointed out. There was a stage, and various speakers addressed the crowd. Some got excited cheers, and the name of Mr. Sharon always got some emphatic boos The highlight of the afternoon rally was this character in the flying machine, which had the slogan "A Jew does not expel a Jew" written on its underside. He was tossing orange bracelets onto the crowd as he looped around over our heads. From the stage at the front of the field, someone announced something like "even in heaven they support our cause!" or something like that.


This guy was selling ices and other frozen treats out of a shopping cart, and ranting loudly. His politics demonstrated a bold mix of national identity and personal concern: "Protests are good for the People of Israel!! Protests are good for the economy!! Ice pops are good for the Jewish people!!"


After dark, thousands of people marched out of the town of Ofakim and headed down the highway, ostensibly towards Gush Katif. There were 15,000 soldiers and cops out to stop us. They stood in what was often total darkness, lining the sides of the highway, arms linked, faces stoic (for as long as they could remain so). Teenagers in orange t-shirts ran up to them, offering snacks and hugs, and chanting: "Soldier! Cop! I love you!!" On the other hand Rav Natan, reliving his youthful days battling NYPD in the 60s, bellowed "MEDINAT MISHTARAH!!! (police state!)." {It's worth a reminder here that the soldiers, unlike in the US, are not voluntary. So these were just kids, friends, neighbors, family members, ordered to block the protest, regardless of their personal beliefs. A cop, on the other hand, is a cop...}

After a mile or so we hit a junction, at which point the human blockade cut across the street, and along the intersecting road for quite a while. There was a row of soldiers/cops right along the road, then another row further out in the brush. At the junction itself, there were some huge floodlights, cops on horses and a few large armored police vehicles. Not tanks, but more like some scary Mad Max stuff. I did not see any dogs. Some of the cops carried huge nightsticks, especially the shorter ones. Rav Natan found this quite amusing.

Unable to move, and unwilling, as of yet, to back down, tired protesters lay down in the dust and thorns at the side of the road to wait out the night. A few cars had been outfitted with p.a. systems, and folks called out slogans and logistics ("boys sleep on the right side of the road, girls on the left") all through the night. It was really an amazing site. Most of the area was dark, but, as you can see in some of the photos (click the title bar for the whole gallery), there was an area which was bathed in a surreal orange glow from the streetlights. This area was away from the main center of energy, and so had an oddly subdued tone, in spite of the human barrier lining the street. As you walked further from the main junction and deeper into this yellowed domain, the stoicism began dissipating. Cops joked and chatted, protesters and soldiers shared cigarettes, people let down their guard.

Here are some news articles on the event (click the text in parens):
-Gearing up- Wednesday afternoon (JPost)
-The rally ends (JPost)
-Joy at others' sorrow? (NYTimes)

[you might have to log in to read this piece about the Arabs in Gaza celebrating the pullout, including some fun slogans like "Gaza today, Jerusalem tomorrow!"]

-US money funds withdrawal? (Al-Jazeera)

As if US money isn't propping up the Palestinian economy and half the developing world at the same time..... But nonetheless, in this piece you see an Arab perspective that the disengagement is not much of a strategy towards peace:

"Furthermore, an advisor to Sharon said in an Israeli newspaper interview that the withdrawal from Gaza is not part of any peace plan. It is just an excuse to put off serious peace negotiations.

"Some 8,000 settlers from Gaza will be removed, four small settlements in the West Bank will also be shut and that's it. As Sharon's adviser admitted, there won't be any serious negotiations with the Palestinians until they 'turn into Finns.'"

As always, watch out on Al-Jazeera, the bottom of the page is a quasi-open forum, usually filled with hate, anti-Semitism and threats of violence. Read at your own risk.

-Bibi says 'NO' (JPost)

An article about former Prime Minister Binyamin Netanyahu, who is against the Gaza pullout (from this interview). I specifically liked this quote, in which he objected to the Israeli Police blocking roads to prevent people from even reaching the protest:

"I thought that the decision to stop vehicles in distant cities [ahead of the protest in Netivot and Kfar Maimon] was strange, even bizarre. I am not aware of even one instance where in any democracy forces were used to prevent people from gathering for a protest located far away from where they were blocked,"

- And then there's this: Miracles(?) (JPost)

I'd love to hear your thoughts on all of this, especially the miracles thing. And Dr. B_., whose entire family are gold circle patrons of this site, would love to debate on any issue. Even the most mundane.
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Hey friends, just remember-- I ain't wearing orange in this photo, more of a neutral brown. Just holding the flag for the sake of the photo-op. But, the more I think about it, the more I don't like this whole process. It's got nothing to do with the Palestinians in my mind, but more about how Jews treat Jews. Check out the Al-Jazeera quote up there for more on the value of this "disengagement" in the efforts towards making a real peace. And for more fun photos, click the title of this post, or just clicky click here.


_________________________________________
And, as a little treat, here's a quote from the Jerusalem Post profile of yesterday's lunatic moron murderer reminding you that they're not all like that out here:

Though he appeared on some Shin Bet [Israeli Security Agency] lists, he was rather anonymous, unconsciously camouflaged by the thousands of the settlement movement's entirely peaceful activists. His newfound fanaticism fueled his hatred, and compelled him to do what the vast majority of settlers think unconscionable.

___________________________________________
Sorry to end it all with such madness and pain, but that's the scene over here these days.
Shabbat Shalom, a wonderful weekend, and much joy and blessing. Please stay in touch my, beloved friends.

how rare the air, replete with prayer

Taking one of many all-too-frequent "breaks" from my (half-)learning of the Gemara (Talmud) on Shabbat (the Sabbath):

Above, the stars, below, the lights of the cities of the hills and coast twinkle in the deep darkness. From the next hill over, the sound of our cousins' prayer rises and fills the void, defining the night with its thick cacophony of supplication and yearning.

I suspect that our voices shall do the same tomorrow night.

Let us hope that they pray for peace and redemption, as should we. As should you.

In Praise of the White Man

My friend Lisa Whiteman is wicked cool. And cute as a button too. And even more so, she's got amazing powers of observation (like she can assess the mood of a sparrow from 300 yards) and a wonderful way of putting it all in words. And she snaps snappy snapshots too.

We met at a hostel in London in 1997, and then we moved to New York City the same day in 2002, the first time I "moved" there, before being shipped to Cincinnati. Separately, of course.

Why this sudden heaping of praise? Just because a recent blog entry of hers tickled me. Though not a star, I have made a few choice appearances on her site.

These are pictures of me in London in 1997. Original context, with titles,here.

Prelude to some fun pix of Jews in Orange

Note-- after reading this political background/ranting on the issue, check the more recent post with more pics and a personal account of the Ofakim rally



It's not the longest word in the English language, but antidisengagementism is a pretty fun word to type. And it's even more fun to observe. Yesterday I hopped into the van with Rav Natan, his wife Ruti, and five of their ten children (we met up with two more later) to drive to Ofakim, in the Southwest of Israel, to protest the impending disengagement of the Gaza Strip. "Disengagement" is a mild sounding term, and refers more to the relation between Israel and Palestine. From the perspective of the Jews living in Gaza (most of them in the region called Gush Katif) and their supporters, the more accurate term is "expulsion."

Regardless of how you hold on the issue of vacating Gaza, giving land to the Palestinians, etc., what I have realized, is that people being forced to leave their homes with little warning (a few months?) and no say in the matter (democracy?) is just that: people being forced to leave their homes. And so it ain't so nice.

Leave out the fact that Gush Katif is a gorgeous strip of beachfront turf that this small community of Jews has nicely cultivated over the past few decades. That's aesthetics, and maybe muddies up clear analysis of the issues. What is worth considering is the following:

- Ariel Sharon is the guy who encouraged the settlements back in the day, and who was most recently elected by viciously condemning the idea of disengagement.

- This is not so much of a move towards peace as a literal disengagement: let's get the hell out of here, then keep building a giant wall between us and them and just be done with it.

- Expelling people from their homes is fascist, whether it's Jews or Palestinians. A friend of mine who is against the settlements laments (as do many Israelis) that her friends and relatives risk/lose their lives in the army to defend these settlers, because any "religious nut" who wants to put a trailer on a hilltop gets immediate military protection. One one hand, this policy of the government is perhaps confusing. The government might say, "if you want to go settle this hilltop against official policy, go ahead, but you're on your own." In cases where it is official policy to build (as it has been with Sharon in the past), well then the problem is the government, not the settlers.

On the other hand (I just don't know enough about the real details of the security situation to give a real analysis of this), many people maintain that the settlements help the security situation in Israel, because the Jews living in the settlements end up being the targets of attack more than people living in Israel Proper.

Rav Natan suggests that a truly democratic process would let the Jewish settlers know that this land is being handed over to the Palestinians, and then give them the choice of what to do. A tough choice it would be, but at least a choice. Just as there are Arab citizens of the State of Israel, why couldn't there be Jewish citizens of the Palestinian State? At the moment, of course, this is more theoretical than practical, because Jewish settlers left without military protection probably wouldn't be too safe-- and so we end up with a situation like the one we have. Rock and a hard place.

So anyhow, as I mentioned in a previous post, thousands and thousands (millions?) of Israelis are against the disengagement, and are garbed in orange, the official anti-disengagement color, jack-knifing the summer wardrobes of scores of pro-disengagement Israelis. Two days ago there was a giant rally in a town called Sderot, and the fun continued yesterday in Ofakim. This has gone on quite a bit here, so the actual rally i will deal with in a later post.

By the way, friends, this was my first attempt ever ever to ever say anything in writing about politics, a topic which terrifies me, because I never see how you can make a assertion without disenfranchising some element of the whole picture. So if i missed a point, or said something incomplete or ill-informed, be gentle. Guide me, but be gentle. Feel free to engage in active debate, if you so desire.

Fruitfulness and Multiplication

Gotta hand it to my former Yeshiva buddy, avid commenter, fellow Floridian Yid Blogger and friend Chazarmaveth, who just had a baby girl!! Well, his wife did-- he just kvelled. Check out her first appearance in cyberspace. Then check out her second. I'll tell you what friends, having a baby gets blog comments a lot quicker than whining about not getting comments. So in that spirit, I am heading to Tel Aviv for some disco action.

So, just in case some folks (like someone whose initials are D.CDB) think that Chazarmaveth is just some other random dude on-line with whom I trade geeky and insider-elitist backscratches, here's the scoop:

1992. When I first got to BU, Mike Walsh (a/k/a DJ Mike Walsh) somehow got me emailing with his pal Jerry (a/k/a "Choad"). I had no idea who this guy was, but we had a bit of a correspondence, trading off-color jokes and information about Wookiees.

1999. Sevenish years later, when I was here, at the Bat Ayin Yeshiva, I met, among others, this wacky character named Jerry Silverman. So what.

That spring, a pack of us Yeshiva guys took a bike trip from Israel's far north, the Hermon, to the southern tip, Eilat. We were a convoy of bearded gents with kippot and tzitzit, cruising the Holy Land. Somewhere in the middle of the desert, Jerry and I were shmoozing, and, piece by piece, figured out- yes, he went to University of Florida; yes, he knew Mike Walsh; yes, HE WAS THE GUY WITH WHOM I HAD BEEN EMAILING.

Wacky.

2003- .So now, Jerry and his wife Sarah live in New York, in Riverdale (the Bronx). And we have hung out a few times over the past two years. He's got a blog, I've got a blog. It started on line, and now it's still on line, but in the middle, we are cuddly, squishy, real-time friends.

Mazal Tov, Jerry and Sarah, on your beautiful first child!!!

I was kidding about Tel Aviv. As Goethe famously said: Ich kann nicht disko.

Esta Knows

The lost of art of kitchenology:

i was thinking about your idea of an electric wok i
use my electric fry pan much more than my wok it is
more diverse than a wok i stir fry in it more than i
do in the wok and the fry pan can be used for eggs
sauteing etc. it has a bigger cooking surface just
sharing my experience

Yo- not only is my mom thinking about my means of food prep here in Israel, she's droppin' the science on it. Esta puts the 'economics' in home economics (my favorite class in middle school). Unlike Jayrog, who puts the 'ho' into home-ec.

Speaking of Jay-- he is on his own adventure right now- Paris, Prague and points lower on the NATO list. Check this quote from and email, and then check his site:

guess where I went last night...that's right the moulin rouge. You would have loved it. Dinner theater kind of vegas setup. Then the show, and to break up the acts of topless dancing and fairly cheesy themes, there was juggling, clown comedy and an act with mini ponies and one topless girl in a tank of water with boa constrictors. Everything a young boy needs.

I have no idea what he means by "you would have loved it." I don't condone that sort of behavior.

______

UGH!!! I just lost the previous post----> there's some crazed blockage action on the Israeli internet service here (fam'ly values and all)-- and it found a word on the blog it didn't like, and so refused to let me see the blog page. I tried moving some posts out of the way, like this one, with the word TOPLESS up there, but to no avail. I can't see my own blog!!! Nutty.

As long as you can see it, we're cool.

Done

So that's it. Due to lack of comments posted directly to this blog, I will never ever communicate with any of you again. I will start a highly elite blog to which only Dr. B_. and Chazarmaveth will have access, and I will be demeaned and scorned across the blogosphere as the most reviled blogger to ever walk the earth.

Even my own mother refuses to post comments here.

My own mother.

GO ON, I DARE YOU-- FIND ONE OTHER BLOG IN THE UNIVERSE THAT HAS A JEW WHO LIVES IN A YESHIVAH POSTING PICTURES OF ARAFAT'S TOMB (not to mention an image of America's premier physician smearing cream cheese on a bagel)... GO ON-- FIND IT!!!

I deserve some sort of award, not to mention a link of Jewlicious.

This hideous turn of events can only be avoided if I receive comments, posted directly to this blog, from 18 (EIGHTEEN- Shmonah-Asar) different people. Otherwise, I shall fade into these hills, and none shall know of me, save the Doctor, the Chazar, and my flock of goats.

Love,
Stuart

Fer cryin' out loud, people, just click the word COMMENT below and write something.

Ram'Allah- Goats, Lions and the grave of a man

At Ibrahim's shop last week, I met a woman named Susan who is a professor at a Canadian law school. I ran into her again at Shalosh Seudos last night, and she invited me to come along for another tour of the Palestinian West Bank, this time guided by Rev. Clarence Musgrave, who is pastor of the Scottish Church in Jerusalem.
So you all should click on over to here and check out my photos of Ramallah, where the Palestinian Authority is headquartered. The first few shots are some rubble from a demolished house in East Jerusalem-- the folks built without a permit, and ended up living in the tent you see in the photo. Next, we return to the Khalandia checkpoint-- you can see the balloon girl trying to fly over the wall. There are some other amazing bits of art on the wall using the black-and-white silhouette to make statements about freedom. Sadly, I have no shots of the others. One in particular shows silhouettes looking out a window (through the wall). The image through the window is a brilliantly colored scene of a tropical paradise.

The rest of the shots are of Ramallah, which is actually quite a lovely city. The lions are from a plaza in the center of town. Many of the shot's are of the Mukata and Arafat's tomb within. The Mukata is the compound that serves as the main headquarters of the PA. You may remember a few years ago, the Israeli army had taken over the compound, and had Arafat trapped in a few rooms in the compound with tanks pointed at him for 2 1/2 months. Amazingly, we just parked the car and walked into the Mukata and straight into Arafat's tomb.

An interesting note-- I met up with Rev. Musgrave outside of the Jerusalem Regency hotel. It was in this hotel that Israel's Tourism Minister Rehavam Zeevi was assassinated in 2001. Arafat's failure to arrest the murderers is cited in the link above (this one) as the reason he was imprisoned in the Mukata.

Notes: Tomorrow I am heading out to Bat Ayin, in the Gush Etzion area of the West Bank. I will be out there for a few weeks, so posting will be less frequent than it has been. Thank God!! After 10 days here already (how did that happen??), I am finally going out to the hills to sink myself deep into some solitary learning. Baruch Hashem as they say.

Trashed-- Bustin' Up the Shabbes Koydesh

Last night I wrote this lovely post, involving lots of html formatting and the definition of melochos. The Israeli internet ate it.
Argh.
In brief........

Here are the ways that I violated the Sabbath this past weekend:

-- I tore toilet paper
-- I carried a check in my pocket
-- I opened the refrigerator, which caused the light to go on

Here's how I taunted the spirit of the Sabbath this past weekend:

--I read 350 pages of The DaVinci Code in essentially one sitting, from 9am to 6pm. You may as well wait for the movie.

Here is one violation of the Holy Shabbos in which I did not engage this week, unlike last week:

-Using a bar of soap, which entails a melachah that is assur, something to do with smoothing.

For more on Shabbat and melachot/melochos come back later, and I will eventually recreate last night's post, z"l

Brother from another mother

Ladies and Gentlemen (and others), when I think of the beautiful side of humanity, its potential for caring, sharing and daring, this is the image I see in my mind's eye. Help spread the love. This is Doctor Craig D. B_., M.D.

I was gonna go with the "brotha" thing, but "motha" looks too much like "mothra."

boom boom blah blah

I'm sitting in the "Coffee Shop" on Emek Refaim road in Jerusalem. Emek Refaim is like the Park Slope of Jerusalem (that said, I guess Ben Yehuda street is like the village-- there is no Time's Square-- Israeli's are far too cool for such spectacle), but with more teenagers and more taxi drivers and more parking on the sidewalk. I've had a Chai, a Latte and a glass of water and quite a bit of bandwith. And I've watched a whole lot of people come in and out.

I'm tired--> been here for a few hours after eating a felafel down the street. A little while ago, I heard some explosions outside. Yikes? Nope, just someone setting off fireworks somewhere not too close to here. A good idea in Jerusalem??


Last night in a mediocre but fancy Asian restaurant with a beautiful rear garden area, I listened to a fun conversation. A black guy from Texas was eating dinner with two Israeli girls, one of whom he was obviously dating. The other Israeli gal was poking fun at his American slang and his hip hop dance style, and he was trying to convince her that his way is the definition of cool in the US. And he was pretty right-- he reminded me of Kingsley for those of you who've been to the Tea Lounge or on jdate. I reckon that his moves were far better than any Israeli guy's cheesy club action. On Emek Refaim, almost half the people are North Americans. It's quite nutty.
Here are some pictures of the Sulha gathering, a yearly peace event with people from many cultures and traditions. [for the newcomers- click the pics and they get bigger, click the colored text and a link opens] There were a lot of honkies like me, a lot of wild Israeli hippies who dress like nomads and are generally gorgeous, and some Palestinian folks who had to get special permission from the Israeli government to enter Israel for a few days. I need to write more on this, but I am bushed after spending hours messing with photo software, so more to come.......


IF you comment.

And if anyone knows how to make iphoto not be utterly frustrating, please email me!!!