Thursday, July 21, 2005

the joke still fits

Condoleezza Rice is coming to visit today, and I'm reminded of this old joke:

On one of his trips to China, Henry Kissinger was presented with silk fabric by one of the Chinese diplomats. Kissinger went to several tailors who all told him that there wasn't enough fabric in order to make a suit for him. Finally, he went to a tailor in the strictly-Orthodox neighborhood of Mea Shearim in Jerusalem. There the tailor took Kissinger's measurements and assured him that not only would he be able to make a suit for him, there would even be enough fabric to make an extra pair of pants. Kissinger asked the tailor how this could be, when afterall, several other tailors had told him that there wasn't even enough fabric for a suit. The tailor replied, "That's because by them you're a very big man. By us, you're not so big."

it's nice to see a company that doesn't take itself too seriously

Google Copernicus Center

Wednesday, July 20, 2005

A powerful article by Rav Aharon Lichtenstien

Reflections on decisive times and decisive orders

Tuesday, July 19, 2005

Now this is a great cellphone accessory...

ThinkGeek :: Retro Phone Handset

Monday, July 18, 2005

What I'm reading presently

Duh.

Wednesday, July 13, 2005

My daily web jog

I thought I'd share my daily web habits. I like "jog" better than surfing or browsing, since it's more of a regular routine, like a jog around the neighborhood. (Actually, I don't ever really "jog" - at most a brisk walk. During the last local elections, someone asked me if I "was running" - which in Hebrew is the same as "do you run". I said, "look at me, does it look like I run?")

I've been using the internet for quite a while, back to around 1993. For a while I used bookmarks/favorites to mark those sites where I wanted to return to visit often. But recently, I've begun taking advantage of the wonderful technology of RSS, which allows you to "subscribe" to web sites that publicize their changes. Some people use software to read their RSS feeds, but I prefer web based, since I check them both at home and work. So the first site I visit is My Yahoo! which contains many (most?) of the sites that I visit daily. It's very convienent, since I can very quickly see which sites have new content.

So on My Yahoo!, what do I check? First, the news. Ynet is the only Israeli site with an RSS feed of their own. But I also visit HaAretz regularly. And when I want to follow a breaking news story, or just see what's been going on in the past hour or so, I go to Fresh. Fresh has up to the minute headlines from most Israeli news sources (in Hebrew.) My Yahoo also has headlines from Reuters, so I can keep up with what's going on in the rest of the world.

Then comes the blogs. My regulars:


  • Chayyei Sarah. In a way, this one got me interested in the world of blogging. We have a common friend in Jerusalem, and when we had a shabbat meal together, she mentioned something (which I've long forgotten) that I wanted to lookup after shabbat. When I tried finding it on Google, I came across her blog, which led me to others, which led me to starting my own, etc.
  • Lamed. Lamed is run by a friend, neighbor and teacher, and on a daily basis has an interesting link about something in the Jewish and/or educational world.
  • An Unsealed Room. I've been following Allison Kaplan Sommer since the Gulf War (before she was a Sommer). I've always enjoyed her writing, and was pleased to come across her blog when I was looking for gossip about the management changes at the Jerusalem Post.
  • Treppenwitz. We live in the same town, although I don't think we've ever met. Constantly good writing, daily updates, interesting pictures, and often gives me cause to comment. A real leader in this field.
  • Ben Chorin. Another fellow resident (although this one I've finally met!). A fascinating thinker with much to say. After hearing him speak in public, I'm even more impressed. He's leading some amazing changes in this country - someone to watch.
  • Bloghead and Hirhurim. These two are so prolific and update their blogs so much, that I can't read every post. But to follow trends in the Jewish world, you can count on them.
  • The Slumbering Lungfish. Lore Fitzgerlad Sjoberg deserves (and I hope will get) a post of his own. Perhaps the funniest guy on the internet. I used to await weekly his new Ratings, but now that it's not being updated (although, Lore, if you read this, it's never too late to start again), I can still count on his blog to make me laugh.

Now what's the daily papers without the comics? I've always been a loyal reader of the comics (my dad and I used to fight in the morning about who would read them first.) Here are my regulars:

  • Dilbert
  • Doonesbury
  • Pearls Before Swine
  • Speed Bump
  • Fox Trot
  • Mr. Boffo

A daily site for me that's not on My Yahoo is Newsmax's Liners. They quote most of the jokes from the monolouges of talk show hosts like Leno, Letterman and Conan. Besides being funny, this is one of the best ways for me to keep up with current events in the US. When I read the news I find out about what's imporant. When I read the Liners, I find out about what people are talking about.

Some sites I visit are updated weekly, and I can remember what day of the week it is by what's coming out that day (or is it the other way around?):

  • Sunday: The New York Times Sunday Magazine. While there are often a number of interesting articles, I need to read William Safire's On Language column.
  • Wednesday: The Onion The classic satirical magazine. While some pieces fall flat, there's always a few that hit the bullseye.
  • Friday: Cecil Adams' column, The Straight Dope. The expert on everything, never ceases to enlighten the teeming millions.

All this is in addition to to the dozens of columns about computer news that I read for proffesional enrichment. Without RSS, I can't imagine how long it would take me to go to all those sites!

Tuesday, July 12, 2005

there is a fish...

I got an email from the Exploratorium yesterday, telling me about the exhibit I mentioned here.

Check out the New Yorker piece in particular, it really describes the experience.

Subliminary Artworks by Bill Bell

Sunday, July 10, 2005

I saw the fish ... again

In January of 1990, I went on a Bnei Akiva shabbaton in NYC. On Saturday night, we went to some sort of mall on the ground level of the World Trade Center. There was some activity planned for all of us. We all spread around the area. At one point, out of the corner of my eye, I saw a giant red fish floating in the middle of the air. I turned around and it was gone. I thought I must have been seeing things, so I forgot about it, until it happened again. When that happened, I ran to tell one of the participants on the shabbaton. She thought I was crazy. By this point I realized that if I turned my head really quick, I could cause the images to appear. There were other images besides the fish - a basketball player, for example. Finally, after bothering both friends and people who on the shabbaton who had only known me for about a day, someone else saw the fish. And to the consternation of the counselors on the shabbaton (who wanted everyone to participate in the activity), eventually almost everyone saw the fish.

It turned out it was a borrowed exhibit from the amazing science museum in San Francisco, the Exploratorium. I haven't been able to find anything online explaining the exhibit, but what I recall was that you were meant to use mirrors, because then you'd see the floating images clearly. But you could see them briefly without the use of mirrors.

For a long time afterwards, every time I thought I knew or saw something that no one else could see, where they thought I was crazy but I knew I was right, I called "seeing the fish".

I hadn't thought about that incident for a long time until recently, when I started playing with Google Earth. One of the neat things about the program, is how you can find all sorts of things from above that no one would ever see on land. Through the supporting online forums, I've found shapes that people mowed in to fields, or placed in the middle of the desert. Pretty amazing stuff, when you think you can see it from a satellite.

Well, I thought I found my own version of one of these man-made shapes when I was looking around the satellite images of Israel. Just north of Beersheva, I saw this:

It's a pretty unusual shape, no?

So I called up a friend from Beersheva, to ask what she thought it was.

She had no idea.

She thought I was crazy.

Finally, I used a program online, where we could both see the same image, and I could "draw" on top of it.



I showed her this:

See it?

It's a fish!

I admit it's a strange fish.

With legs. And a lawn chair on it's back.

But it's still a fish.

And while I was trying to "prove" what I saw, I started laughing.

Because her husband was on that shabbaton!

Of course when I asked him if he saw the fish, he thought I was talking about that night 15 years ago.

And he still doesn't see the fish in the picture.

Do you?

Thursday, July 07, 2005

My country 'tis of thee

According to this article in HaAretz, 500,000 American Jews could immigrate to Israel in the next 15 years. Obviously, this would have dramatic implications for life here in Israel.

Here are my top ten predictions for how life will change:

  1. On the bills and coins will actually be printed, "In God We Trust"
  2. Monday will become the most dreaded day of the week
  3. Knitting clubs will become popular to utilize all the time freed up from the cancellation of movie intermissions
  4. Instead of multiparty political chaos - two party gridlock
  5. IDT will replace Bezeq as the national phone carrier, but will be forced to open call centers in Los Angeles to find Hebrew speakers
  6. Yoni Leibowitz will become Israel's most popular talk show host (no more "Jon Stewart" for him!)
  7. Difficult to pronounce "resh" will be replaced by the new letter "thoth"
  8. Football = Football
  9. Coca-Cola will be the most popular soft-drink (uh, wait...)
  10. 24 Hour Weather Channel hosted exclusively by Robert Olinsky

Wednesday, July 06, 2005

What I'm reading currently...

I'm again reading a few things concurrently:


  1. The Jews of Lithuania: A History of a Remarkable Community 1316-1945 by Masha Greenbaum. My entire family comes from Lithuania - the small shtetls of Jonava, Seduva, Skaudvile, Vilkomir (Ukmerge), Anyksciai, Balbieriskis and others. I've done a lot of research about my families' history, and I generally consider myself well-versed in world history. But when I finally started reading this book I bought a couple of years ago, I was surprised to see how much I didn't know about Lithuanian history in general, the Jewish community in particular, and how it likely impacted my ancestors. What I find particularly interesting is how unique Lithuania was. They were the last country in Europe to adopt Christianity, and for centuries treated all the churches with suspicion. This led to fairly good relations with the Jews. I also didn't know just how recent the Russian conquest of the Lithuania was - only from 1795-1917. Before that no Jews lived in Russia. And those Russians Czars were bad - really bad. Lithuania also had a pretty decent democracy between WWI and WWII (for at least the first 10 years or so) and the Jews got much more autonomy than anywhere else in Europe. But for all the ups and downs in the book, I know that the story is going to end very badly. I'm in the chapter just preceding the Nazi invasion (another piece of history I knew little about was the Soviet occupation of Lithuania from 1939-1941). While most of my relatives came to the States between 1880-1910, some still remained after WWI. I can't imagine the horror that must have come from realizing their chance for democratic Jewish autonomy in Lithuania would end up in the worst crime in human history.
  2. Abba Eban: An Autobiography I don't think I've ever read an autobiography before, at least as an adult. The book is very detailed (I've read probably 150 pages and the State hasn't been declared yet), but I'm getting a very interesting view of one of Israel's most important diplomats. (His family was from Lithuania, which gives a little connection to the book above.) As with the biography of Chaim Weizmann, and the history of the Etzel, I'm getting another new perspective on the pre-State period. For all the difficulties, it still seems like one of the most interesting times in history to live. Since the book goes up to 1977, I imagine I'll also get new insights on the early years of the State as well. I wouldn't have expected it, but I'm also really enjoying the occasional bits of sharp British humor.
  3. Mishnayot: Masechet Shabbat. As I wrote earlier, I finished Seder Zraim on Shavuot. So now I'm going through a more relevant seder: Moed. This was actually the first pocket mishnayot that I bought - back in the army. I never got far into it then - my Hebrew wasn't good enough. This time I should be able to finish - even if it takes months...

Tuesday, July 05, 2005

it's true because it's funny

We took the kids to see the movie Madagascar yesterday. It wasn't the best animated movie I've ever seen, and maybe was less fun for the adults than some of the Pixar movies. But there was silly, slapstick comedy.

And the kids loved it. I don't think there's anything more authentic than hearing a 6 year old or an 8 year old laugh out loud at a movie. They weren't holding back, trying to be cool or cynical or anything. Just enjoying themselves watching animals do silly things on the screen.

At one point my older daughter leaned over to me and whispered, "Abba, this is just right for us."

It reminds me of the following saying by the Hassidic Rebbe, R' Simcha Bunim:


Three things can be learned from a child:

  1. The child is happy at just being alive.
  2. The child is always active and never bored.
  3. The child always cries for everything it needs.

So too we should serve God with joy, we should always be performing mitzvot, and we should implore God with tears for everything we need.

Sunday, July 03, 2005

Opportunities...

Tonight was the last show of the season of Yair Lapid's talk show. It's a light, popular show - kind of like a cross between Leno and Oprah (although Lapid himself doesn't do comedy.) If it wasn't on one week, or even was cancelled, it would make no difference in my life at all. But sometimes there are things on the show that people talk about on the following day at work.

But for all of its insignificance, I can't help thinking about all those people I used to be in Bnei Akiva with. They keep Shabbat like I do. They visit here. They might even still believe in the same ideology. But they don't know who Yair Lapid is. And somehow that shows how they've passed up the opportunity to join up with their people here.

**********************************************

My son led "Anim Zmirot" for the first time this Shabbat. I'm really proud of him. He basically took it upon himself and practiced both at home and at school. When I was his age I certainly couldn't. (Hell, when I was a senior in high school and asked to do Anim Zmirot at a shabbaton, I couldn't!) I'm already thinking about how with some more practice, he could lead Pesukei D'Zimra or Kabbalat Shabbat (even before his bar mitzva).

But for all the significance of this milestone, I can't help but thinking about my girls. Will they have the opportunity to find a role for themselves in shul? Will they be able to be proud of themselves the way my son can?

Saturday, July 02, 2005

I need closure on that saga!

I enjoy a good saga. I don't know if this is the actual definition of a saga, but I'm referring to a series of books or movies that has a definite end. The James Bond movies, for example, wouldn't be a saga. But the Star Wars movies, especially with the last movie having just come out, fall in that category. After almost 30 years, I now know the whole story.

Another couple of sagas that took me a while to get into, but eventually I enjoyed are Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings. I never read LOTR as a kid (started reading the Hobbit, but never got into it.) But we got the DVD of the first movie a few years ago as a gift. However, the long playing time discouraged me from seeing it. In the end, we finally watched it, and rented the other two, enjoying them. (But I don't think I'm going to read the books.)

My wife had been reading Harry Potter for a while, and I kind of dismissed them as silly. But after she convinced me to read one, I was hooked. With the newest one coming out later this month, I'm not sure how we're going to handle sharing it! Either we'll have to come out with a very sophisticated plan, or maybe we'll just buy two copies...

Another series that I really enjoyed as a kid was Lloyd Alexander's Prydain Chronicles. Except for a terrible Disney cartoon that combined two books and completely distorted the story, there was no movie made. But the books were fascinating, and as a kid I knew everything about them. I even corresponded, and later met Lloyd Alexander. When we were in the States last summer, I bought the series, and am waiting for my kids to get a little older, so I can read it to them (or perhaps they'll read it themselves.)

One series that I read as a kid, and now is about to be made into a movie, is C.S. Lewis's The Chronicles of Narnia. Probably in 5th or 6th grade I read the entire series, but something always seemed uncomfortable for me. I can't remember anything about the plot now, but I do remember thinking even then that the book seemed much too Christian for me. This has always been a bit strange for me, but even when I wasn't religious, and even as a young kid, Christianity always made me uncomfortable. In 5th grade I went to Spain with my father, and I couldn't stay inside the world famous Prado museum because of the Christian art. I recall even at a younger age being in an after-school program at a Church and being very upset at having Christianity discussed with me. And I don't remember this story, but my parents have told me that as a baby I urinated on the floor of a convent!

In any case, when I heard about the upcoming movie, I went online to see if my memories of the story were accurate. I found this very disturbing article:

Disney finds religion for its Chronicles of Narnia

There seems to be an antisemitic undercurrent by some of the supporters of the movie. I think this might be one saga I can pass up on...

Friday, July 01, 2005

don't break the (nuclear) wessels...

I'm concerned about the protests over the disengagement.

I'm not talking about their effectiveness (although I don't really see who exactly the road blockings are going to convince, and how that will change the government's plan) or the specific tactics. I'm not even talking about whether the plan should be protested against. (It doesn't seem like a good plan to me, but as I've mentioned before, I think things are usually a little more complicated. Perhaps a reverse Occam's razor?)

I'm concerned about the effects of the protests themselves - regardless of whether the disengagement is blocked.

What's difficult for me, is that if the disengagement is truly unjust (or at least viewed that way by its opponents), then why should I view the protests differently than those against other unjust acts? My cousin was one of the leaders of the Etzel, and planned and carried out many of the attacks against the British. When I read his stories - I fill up with a great sense of pride. I remember myself protesting against the Soviet Union, to let the Jews leave freely leave to Israel. So why is this different? Why can't I identify in the same way?

I think the reason is, that I don't care about the welfare of the British mandate or the Soviet Union. But I do care - very much - about the State of Israel!

What I'm worried about is called in Hebrew "shvirat kelim" - translated as "breaking of vessels". It's a kabbalistic concept, but the modern idiom might be closer to "throwing the baby out with the bathwater". It is often said that it is forbidden to break the vessels - meaning that once the vessel is broken, it can't be repaired. There must be limits - no shvirat kelim.

Another classic example of this is the famous story of the two mothers who came to King Solomon fighting over a baby, each claiming he was hers. When Shlomo offered to cut the baby in half, one mother objected, and the other thought it was fair. The wise king realized that any mother who would cut the baby in half for a cause, who was willing to break the vessels, could not be the real mother.

I think the metaphor is clear, but I'll give one more example that I wrote about recently on an email list:

" I think an appropriate metaphor would be a voyage across the sea. Obviously the focus of the traveler is the sea - not the vehicle. But to cross the sea, you need some vehicle, in this case a boat. Now you can complain about the boat, the crew and the captain, but bottom line, this is the first boat (in our metaphor) to successfully make it to sea in 2000 years. All other attempts - walking across the sea by foot, waiting for the wind to carry one across the sea - didn't work. Now no one would say that the boat doesn't need improvement or can't go off course. But to start drilling a hole in the boat -- well, that very well may lead to the end of the voyage. The unity of the boat must be preserved! We have no other boat!"

What concerns me greatly is that I see more and more people from the Religious Zionist camp who are willing to drill holes in the boat, cut the baby, break the kelim - anything in the name of preventing the disengagement. This approach doesn't surprise me when it comes from the haredim. They don't view the State as a vessel of any intrinsic value. And in fact, in the haredi neighborhoods not far from my work, they've had some of the most active road blocking protests. But we're not Haredim! At least I'm not. (I do know that the late Adir Zik was probably the best examples of someone associated with Religious Zionism who had in the past few years said he could identify more with Haredism. But I don't think it's a real trend in RZ circles - at least not consciously.)

How far will the country go this summer? What will remain?

A few years ago, at the height of the intifada, and also when Israel's water resources were at a dangerous low, a neighbor of mine told me that when she would go to the States, she couldn't relax about the terror situation, because she was always worried that someone she cared about back home might be hurt. But she was relieved about using the water in the States, because it didn't impact the situation in Israel at all. Now I think there's a new category. People are so concerned about the anger level this summer, that if they leave Israel for a vacation they're actually looking forward to not facing the explosive situation.

But maybe things will work out. We obviously have some level of divine supervision happening here - I can only hope that it will prevent us from destroying the most valuable gift we've received in the past 2000 years.

But I don't want to end on a scared note. Here's a great joke related to the metaphor above...


A Jewish town had a shortage of men for wedding purposes, so they had to import men from other towns. One day a groom-to-be arrived on a train, and two mother-in-laws-to-be were waiting for him, each claiming ownership on him. A rabbi was called to solve the problem. After a few minutes of thought, he said: "If this is the situation, you both want the groom, we'll cut him in half and give each one of you half of him." To this replied one woman: "If that's the case, give him to the other woman." The rabbi said: "Do that. The one willing to cut him in half, is the real
mother-in-law!"

Thursday, June 30, 2005

Got the whole world...

This is absolutely amazing. Just leave it to Google. I'm lucky that a) I have a computer at work that can handle it (my home computer doesn't stand a chance) and b) the firewall at work doesn't block it (as it does with most things.)

I was looking all over US and Israel. San Francisco in particular, because then you can see buildings in 3D.

One bummer - the curvy part of Lombard Street isn't really visible...

Monday, June 27, 2005

a few things on my mind...

This past weekend we went away to a hotel for Shabbat. On the way, we stopped off at the kibbutz we used to live on. It was a weird experience, as it usually is for me when I visit places I used to live. I seem to have an obsessive need to return to my "roots". In some cases, as in genealogy, I'm returning to places I've never been. But in others, I go back to cities, schools, homes that I used to live, hoping to find something. Just last night, my friends from my old high school had a big reunion, based on an email alumni list that I created! (Even though I couldn't attend.) I'm constantly trying to keep in touch with people, googling them, trying to maintain a connection.

I'm not sure why. I'm not even entirely sure what I'm looking for. Maybe it's rooted in the fact that my parents divorced when I was young, and I'm always trying to fix distanced relationships. Maybe because I was never terribly popular socially, and by going back, and finding friends, I can improve on the past. Maybe I just figure by going back to my past, I can understand my present and future better.

*************************************

The hotel was nice. We were in Ashkelon, a town on the Mediteranean sea. The hotel room had a great view of the ocean, which reminded me of my house in San Francisco growing up. We lived about 20 blocks from the ocean, on top of a hill, with a perfect view of the Pacific. In the far distance you could see the Farallon Islands, about 27 miles west of the city. Depending on the gullibity of our guests, I'd tell them it was either Hawaii or Japan.

*************************************

Last night my oldest daughter had an end of the year party for second grade. It was almost entirely group singing, particularly songs of a number of Israeli song writers who passed away in the past year - Naomi Shemer, Ehud Manor, Uzi Chitman. To get to the party, we passed by the funeral procession of one of the teenagers who was killed near Beit Hagai on Friday night. The tension on the roads - both of the Israelis who were coming to pay their respects and the Arabs who were waiting to get by - was very clear. But when we got into the room of the party, filled with parents and children, the somber atmosphere soon passed. But it never entirely disappeared, nor did the looming disengagement and potentially explosive summer. As we all sat there, singing optimistic, Zionist songs like Haleluya, Kan Noladti, B'Shana HaBa'ah, and others, I couldn't help wondering if at the end of the summer, we (not only the people in the room, but the country as a whole) would be still able to sing those same songs and believe them. It gave me hope, but also great room for concern. Only time will tell.

Thursday, June 23, 2005

Mitch Hedberg - Wikiquote

This guy is very funny. The language isn't always clean, but the material is. Too bad I never got to see him perform....

Mitch Hedberg - Wikiquote.

Wednesday, June 22, 2005

I'm different...#3

I wasn't originally planning on writing about this yet, but today I realized that one of my "differences" is perhaps more significant than I had earlier thought.

I never finished university; I do not have a degree.

In fact, I barely studied much in university at all.

Now this is different than my first "difference", about not driving. Driving was something that I've always had a difficult time doing, it never seemed to click with me. But as far as learning in general goes, I like it very much and it comes naturally to me. But being a good learner and a good student are two different things.

As a kid, I almost always excelled in my studies. I did well on tests, didn't mind reading, etc. But homework was never my thing. When I put my mind to it I could do it well, but if I didn't pay attention, I could easily end up ignoring or postponing my assignments. I think there were two major issues - my perfectionism and my lack of efficient time management. I would take on big projects, too big, feel like I had to do them perfectly and when it wasn't working out (often due to bad time management - i.e. watching TV instead of doing my homework) I'd give up. The classic example of this for me was my first class of the morning of my first semester of high school - Public Speaking. I did pretty well in the speeches, but when it came to the big final speech, it got to be too much for me, and I started to cut class and go hang out in the park by the school. I failed that course - I'm still embarrassed about it too this day. The rest of my high school academic career went much better - peaking in a nearly 4.0 GPA in my junior year of high school.

But then I found "religion".

When I transferred out of the prestigious academic public school to go to the small Jewish school in my area, I felt like a burden had been taken off of my shoulders. Here was a place where people cared about things other than their transcripts and universities. And when I started yeshiva in Israel the following year, university study was the furthest thing from my mind. I could learn in yeshiva, progress at my own level, and I really enjoyed it. (Although even in yeshiva, I didn't get particularly proficient at skills like gemara learning, but I'll save that for another post.) While my staying in yeshiva for a second year wasn't unusual, by the third year most of my friends went back to the States to learn in Yeshiva University, while I stayed to join the army. (That is definitely material for another post.) I kept thinking - YU - no way! First of all, because I don't like New York, but mostly because if I was going back to the US, I'd give back as much as I could to the movement that got me to Israel - Bnei Akiva.

So after the army, my then fiancé and I moved to Boston. I enrolled at UMass Boston (where both of my parents had attended) and thought that I'd study and work. I signed up for some interesting classes in subjects like politics, history, philosophy. But I couldn't make myself do the work. It was too easy to not go to class, and to focus on the more important issues like my work for Bnei Akiva or whatever TV show happened to be on. At this point, I can't even remember how many courses I actually finished. Certainly not many.

But who cared? We were moving to Israel soon, to realize the dream of every "true" Bnei Akivanik - to move to kibbutz. Kibbutz was perfect in this regard, because they didn't care if you had a college degree, and would likely let me go back to school in the future. And so it went. But in the end the kibbutz didn't work out. And as I realized that, I started to get very scared. What had I done? Why had I wasted my opportunity to get a degree in America?

But again I got lucky. It was the peak (oh so brief) of Israel's hi-tech bubble. And I always had been pretty good at computers, so when we left the kibbutz, I was sent to a computer training course and found a job fairly quickly - without a degree. On my resume I wrote that I studied at the University of Massachusetts, Boston, MA. Which was certainly true. I found out later though that some Israelis had read the MA as a degree, not the state. Certainly no fault of my own. I've always told people about my lack of degree the same way I tell them about not having a license - sheepishly but honestly.

So now I've been working in hi-tech for a few years. But I'm thinking that I really would like to get my degree at some point. Perhaps by studying online, at home. I think I'm more mature now, I think I can handle it. However, it takes money and time, two things I don't have extra of right now.

Mark Twain said: "The first time a student realizes that a little learning is a dangerous thing is when he brings home a poor report card."

I guess I've done a little learning myself....

Monday, June 20, 2005

I seem to be back

I haven't posted for a few days. Kind of a busy week last week. A few things took up a great deal of time:

  • Shavuot. As has often happened in the past, I organized the leil limud in our shul, which obviously mandated me staying up throughout the night. Therefore I made sure I slept the day before, and ended up sleeping a good portion of the following day. I basically ended up giving myself jet lag. I had scheduled for myself to give a siyum on finishing Seder Zraim (which ends with Masechet Bikkurim, particularly appropriate for Shavuot.) It would have been my first siyum ever. Unfortunately there wasn't time, and I didn't get to do it. I don't think I'll have a natural opportunity to do a siyum soon, so maybe I'll try to finish Seder Moed by next Shavuot. In any case, one really nice thing about Shavuot was that we read Megilat Rut at sunrise, and based on the location of our shul, we could see all of Beit Lechem and the hills of Moav. The whole setting of the story, with a beautiful sunrise, right before our eyes.
  • My nephew's brit. It fell on isru chag, but it was actually the second day of chag for my father-in-law, which made the whole thing somewhat complicated. But it was very nice, and after a chalavi Shavuot (which I didn't mind - we had a very good lemon meringue cheescake), having a basari brit, even in the morning, seemed fine.
  • A two day conference in Haifa. This was my first "overnight" trip for, actually with, work. The speeches were fairly boring, but it was nice going away to a hotel. And the food was good. Plus, the hotel was on the beach, and there was a sand sculpture contest. Very cool work. One thing I did realize about myself - I really don't need cable at home. The hotel had something like 50 channels - not a crazy amount, but certainly more than the two I have now. And I kept flipping through the damn thing hoping something good would come on. And of course nothing did. If I had that at home, I'd probably never get to work.

Sunday, June 19, 2005

Pay the parking meter by phone

Brilliant idea. Will it ever make it to Israel?

Wednesday, June 08, 2005

Phil Plait's Bad Astronomy: SPOILER Review: Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith

An interesting review:

Phil Plait's Bad Astronomy: SPOILER Review: Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith

Tuesday, June 07, 2005

Everybody loves a parade

I hadn't planned on it, but after work we took the kids to the Yom Yerushalayim day parade. It was the first time I had been to one since we made aliya almost 9 years ago. In my yeshiva days I would always enjoy it, and I felt the excitement again today. Thousands of people, loud music, dancing, flags all walking toward the Kotel.

Just a couple of notes:

As we walked down Rechov Yafo the crowd got larger and larger. And for some reason I still don't understand, someone (the police?) put up barriers in the middle of the street. The crowd kept progressing eastward, not realizing that they couldn't continue. This started to create very crowded conditions, which the kids did not enjoy. Eventually they opened them up, but the whole thing was very strange.

I did get to tell the kids about a much more crowded situation that I was in once: When I lived in San Francisco in 1987, they held a huge party for the 50th anniversary of the opening of the Golden Gate Bridge. While you can always cross the bridge on the sidewalk, for the event they closed the bridge to cars, and allowed pedestrians to walk in the traffic lanes. Well, I guess they didn't figure that it would attract nearly everyone in the city. Several hundred thousand people showed up - and the bridge is only about a mile long! It was packed. At one point, someone shouted "Lean Left!" and the entire bridge swung to the left. Very scary. The bridge itself actually sagged from the weight:



In any case, the parade today wasn't quite so bad...

The other thing that bugged me today was the protest atmosphere. I know that Yom Yerushalayim is primarily a day for the National Religious public, and there's a lot of opposition to the disengagement plan out there. But I think that Yom Yerushalayim should be a day about thanking God for what we got, and showing recognition to those who helped us get it. Therefore protesting against the government of Israel seems wrong on a day like this.

But despite all that, the focus on the color orange as the main medium of protest. It seems more like color war than serious debate.

I had in my head the following conversation:

Journalist: What do you think about the disengagement plan?

Me:
Well, there are a lot of issues here. On the one hand, you have the demographic problem, the need to preserve a democratic state, the importance of the strategic relationship with the US. On the other hand you have the danger of rewarding and encouraging terror, the precedent of relinquishing our legitimate homeland, the risk of tearing the Israeli society apart. So I think that it's too dangerous of a risk.

Journalist:
What do you think, protest guy?

Protest guy:
I think - ORANGE!

Me:
Isn't that a bit simplistic?

Protest guy:
Come on, it's not like it's a primary color...

Monday, June 06, 2005

Yerushalayim to me

I don't have any deep thoughts today about the significance of Yom Yerushalayim. I guess because I was born after the Six Day War, so I never viewed Israel without all of Yerushalayim.

Outside of a six week period back in the summer of 1991, I've never lived in Yerushalayim. My yeshiva is not in the city, which was unusual back then, and even more unusual today. And since we made aliya we haven't lived in Yerushalayim either.

But I still feel very connected with the city. I've always visited it often. And for the past 5 years I've worked in the city as well.

One of my favorite things about Yerushalayim is how wonderful it is to walk through it. There are great cities in the world where you can't easily walk from one part to another. But Jerusalem, like San Francisco (where I also used to walk a lot) isn't like that. You can really walk from North to South, East to West in one day. And the differences between the neighborhoods are amazing. Often I get a ride to the center of town in the morning, and walk to my office in the eastern part of the city. I walk from the active (well, not so active at 7:30 AM) city center, through the Russian Compound, by the (former?) Ethiopian consulate, through the charedi neighborhoods into the Arab neighborhood of my work. I feel like my passport should be stamped several times a day! And when I really want to treat myself, I take a long walk - let's say from the city center to Talpiot. So many hidden corners, so much to discover.

The other great thing about Yerushalayim for me is how much things are always changing, always building. I mean my first visit to Israel was only in 1988, but I'm already nostalgic for places I saw then, like the old bus station, that no longer exist! The cranes are always moving, the roads are constantly being torn up, new buildings seem to pop up like mushrooms after a rain. Some people here have become frustrated with all the work being done on the new light rail line, but I'm personally very impressed. Despite the economic condition of the country in the past few years, the work didn't stop. It shows a degree of vision not often found in this country. And I'm sure that in a few more years when it's all done, we won't be able to believe we ever lived with out it.

Kind of like how I feel now about the reunification of the city.

Who knows what we'll feel like about that next?

Friday, June 03, 2005

a far too serious look at two movies

I have a friend that I used to taunt about how he had only seen two movies. The movies would change from time to time, but based on how he would refer to movies in conversation, it seemed like he had never seen more than two.

I've never been a huge movie goer, but I would certainly see a decent number of movies in the theater each year (and of course more on video and TV.) But when we moved to Israel, and started having kids, going to the movies became a rare treat. We go probably a couple times a year. One movie will be the annual Pixar flick. That's also the movie the kids see in the theater during the year.

The other movie will be something we've really wanted to see. Back in the summer of 2002, we were in the States for a few weeks, and we saw both Attack of the Clones and the first Spiderman movie. While AotC had sentimental value (we both loved the original Star Wars trilogy as kids), it was Spiderman that really got us. We really loved that movie*.

When Spiderman 2 came out last year, we went to see it in a special early screening for charity in Jerusalem. And then later that summer we saw it in an IMAX theater in the States. It was even better than the first.

And this week we "finally" made it to see the last installment of the Star Wars saga, Revenge of the Sith. I won't discuss the content of the movie, but I did enjoy it, and think it was certainly one of the best of the series.

But today I started thinking about the similarities of both stories. Both feature a young individual who discovers he has special powers, but cannot use his powers to save the life of a close family member. After this loss, he becomes determined to do everything to save the life of the woman he loves, all the while learning to deal with his super powers.

Obviously, Anakin and Peter deal with this challenge in very different ways, and end up on opposite paths. Peter realizes he needs to take on a secret identity to not put Mary Jane at risk, while Anakin ends up getting more and more arrogant, eventually following the path of evil. The lesson of "With great strength comes great responsibility" applies to both of them.

I've been trying to think about the significance of this parallelism. There seems to be no middle way, no chance that Peter could have become a hero without a secret identity, or that Anakin simply could have been a good Jedi. Partly it was because their extraordinary powers made things more extreme, but it was also because they wanted a romance with a "normal" person as well.

Any moral for the real world? Well, I just finished reading the biography of Chaim Weizmann, and here too is the story of someone who in one field had amazing accomplishments, but on the other hand his family life suffered greatly. I'm sure that there are many other cases like this.

I'm sure it seems like I'm taking this all too seriously - we're only talking about movies. But I think great movies, like other works of fiction, resonate with us because hiding behind an incredible story is a truth we can identify with. If we couldn't identify with the challenges the characters face, we wouldn't be pulled in.

And so I suppose that we all face the same challenge on some level. As humans we are on the one hand animals, but on the other hand created in the divine image. How do we handle this dichotomy? Live two separate lives, with two identities, until no one knows that our "Peter" is really "Spiderman"? Abandon our mission and say "Spiderman No More"? Become so obsessed with our powers that we ignore the reality of the world that exists alongside us?

I guess in the end, we're luckier than these fictional heroes. We have a real guidebook to let us know how to balance between the animal and the divine. We don't need to rely on hazy visions or dreams. However, the tension is constant, and it sometimes makes our own lives even more interesting than the best Hollywood blockbuster.




* One of the things that made the movie fun for us, was that despite the fact that we saw it in a very fancy theater, for some reason during the previews, there was no sound. But instead of people getting angry, they just started making their own sound effects. First there was an action movie with a car chase, where everyone was saying "vroooom!". And then came a preview for Scooby Doo, and of course the entire audience was talking like Scooby. When the sound came back (before the end of the credits), everyone was already a little disappointed. While the feeling of seeing a movie with a crowd adds to the experience, you never feel like you're interacting with the person next to you. (I think Rav Soloveitchik touches on this point in Lonely Man of Faith.) Here we had a chance to all work together. Really special.

Tuesday, May 31, 2005

Google really is a Search Engine....

...they actually found Carmen Sandiego!

Stay Cool, Oscar...

Oscar Brown Jr. has died at age 78.

From the Washington Post

From the New York Times

I found out from these articles that Oscar Brown Jr was a social activist, but I just knew him as a great musician. I'm not sure how my father discovered him, but my father would play me his songs as a kid, and I loved them.

He could be funny with Signifyin Monkey, The Snake and Stay Cool.
And I don't think any song shows more the love between a parent and child than "Dat Dere".

He even wrote a cool song about the internet, "Cyberspace is the Place" in the early 90s!

But the best thing about his music was the music. I don't know enough about music to describe it, but the rhythm, the beat - simply the best.

Last year my father celebrated his 60th birthday, and in honor of the occasion, my brothers and I put out a book with letters from his friends and family. I also contacted Oscar Brown Jr., who very graciously wrote me back. He sent birthday greetings to my dad (who he didn't know) and even included this poem:

ANOTHER YEAR
By Oscar Brown, Jr.


Another year
To celebrate
A day held dear
Your natal date
The anniversary
Of your birth
God granted mercy
You're on earth
Another year
Another year
Another year

Another year
A happy day
So we sincerely
Want to say
We hope you do
Have many more
Because with you
We're always for
Another year
Another year
Another year

Another year commands the rest
As up the numbers climb
Another year withstands the test
Of time


Another year
To be alive
To prove that we're
Made to survive
And are still able
Heaven's sake
To say we're grateful
Now to make
Another year
Another year
Another year

Another year
Is being X'd
By the appearance
Of the next
So as it goes
To be a ghost
Let us propose
A birthday toast
Another year
Another year

Another year


I wish I had another year to hear more of Oscar Brown Jr's creations. In the meantime, I'll keep singing them to my kids (they already know Signifyin Monkey by heart).

Thanks, Oscar.

Sunday, May 29, 2005

Star Wars Episode III: Revenge of the Foreshadowing

This is three years old but still perfect. (And I haven't seen the movie yet.)

Friday, May 27, 2005

My take on Lag B'Omer

I can be a bit of a holiday grinch. I always get nervous about performing the various holiday practices correctly (I guess a combination of my being a baal teshuva and a neurotic perfectionist). But although I sometimes might not enjoy a particular chag, I can certainly identify with the reasons and spirit behind it.

But not Lag B'Omer - at least the way it's celebrated today.

The two main features of Lag B'Omer in Israel today are:

  • Bonfires. While when I was a kid, I enjoyed making campfires, as a parent, I found it somewhat disturbing. There isn't a great deal of concern in general for safety. But what really bothers me is where they get the wood. It's all "gathered" - which either means stolen from building lots or cut from the trees that we all put so much effort in planting. I'm sure some fires are made from dead branches, but with the amount of bonfires in the country, they have to be in the minority.
  • Meron. Meron is the burial site of Rabbi Shimon Bar Yochai. People go there to pray. His site, along with other similar places (primarily in the Galil) are popular throughout the year for those who want to pray for financial success, health, marriage, children, etc. I have never been into visiting graves in general, but I have a particular problem with using them as a mechanism to get something. It makes God seem like a jukebox, where if you put the right coin in, you'll get want you want. I'm not a strict Leibowitzian, but this does not seem like the Judaism I believe in.

What do these two aspects have in common? They're both about taking, about what you can "get."

If there is a holiday that I identify with more, that would be the antithesis of a "taking" holiday, it would be Yom HaAtzmaut (or better yet, the two days of Yom HaZikaron and Yom HaAtzmaut.) There we celebrate and commemorate both what God gave us (by means of hallel and thanks) and what we have given back (by building the State, and in sad cases even by soldiers giving their lives.) This shows the real convenental relationship between God and his people, and to me it makes much more religious sense.

Often the ideologies of "Religious Zionism", "Modern Orthodoxy" and "Torah V'Avoda" are described as being in the middle of a spectrum of haredim on the one side and chilonim on the other. While that may be true in some cases, here I think that I place my ideology on the side of "giving" and the opposing ideology on the side of "taking". It reminds me of the Mafdal's election slogan in 1999 - HaMafdal Noten HaNeshama L'Medina. (The Mafdal gives its soul to the State.) I think they were trying to distinguish themselves from Shas, by focusing on contributing to the State instead of seeing what you could get from it.

Perhaps Lag B'Omer can be redeemed. I'm not sure how. I know that more focus on Rabbi Akiva, and ahavta l'reiecha kamocha would help, but I don't know how that could compete with the fun of burning everything in sight. Any ideas?

Thursday, May 26, 2005

I'm different...#2

If this is coffee, please bring me some tea; but if this is tea, please bring me some coffee.
Abraham Lincoln, 16th president of US (1809 - 1865)

No, thank you.
Me

I doubt this posting will have any important message or lesson to be learned. Just thought I'd let you in on a particular "current window" of my personality.

I don't like hot drinks. Not coffee, not tea. Not even hot chocolate. And by association, I don't like ice coffee, ice tea or chocolate milk. Actually, I don't know if it's by association. I just don't like them.

This often makes social visits awkward. People are always offering something hot to drink, and when I turn them down, especially on a cold day, I get strange looks.

Plus to be a computer proffesional and not drink coffee is as close to treason as you can get.

Now if that wasn't enough, about 10 years ago I stopped drinking caffeinated drinks. I'm edgy enough as it is. Plus, it makes fasting so much easier. But that means no regular Coke.

And when I'm watching my weight (which isn't often enough, for a "waist is a terrible thing to mind"), I'll only drink diet drinks. So that eliminates some more options right there.

Also, I don't like beer. In Israel it's not such a big deal, but in the US that also makes me an outsider.

So on the remaining beverages, all that's left to say is L'Chaim!

if you've ever recieved spam...

... then you'll enjoy Spamusement! Poorly-drawn cartoons inspired by actual spam subject lines!

Wednesday, May 25, 2005

What would Rabbi Akiva say?

Today's Pearls Before Swine

Tuesday, May 24, 2005

Trempiquette (or Tremp-i-quiet)

Inspired by this post, I thought I'd mention a situation where I feel similar feelings of awkwardness when someone starts to talk to me.

Some background: As I mentioned in an earlier post, I tremp (hitchhike) to work. This saves me a lot of time (and honestly, some money as well.) I rely on the tremps, and I feel it is my responsibility to behave myself as well as possible on a tremp. This is both for ethical reasons, and the fact that a driver is much less likely to pick me up if it's not pleasant to do so.

Often I wait for rides at the trempiada either in Efrat or Jerusalem, and a number of people are gathered there. If I see someone I know, I try to be friendly - although there is an underlying aspect of competition, if only one seat is available in a particular ride.

The problem for me, however, occurs once I get in the car. Or better put, when we get in the car. Occasionally, a fellow trempist will try to strike up a conversation with me in the car. This is NOT GOOD! Unless the driver is talking to both of us, I don't want to say a word! Your (I'm speaking to the theoretical chatty co-trempist, not the theoretical reader of this blog) prattle might be fine in almost any other circumstance (except the bathroom, see above), but please don't make the driver resent us both! What if he wants some quiet time? What if he gets a phone call? Shush!

At some point I'll post on how I feel that giving a tremp today is like the "hachnasat orchim" of old, but today's mussar missive is for the tremp recipient, not donor.

I mentioned being good at trivia...

... I was so wrong.

Check out WikiTrivia.

Monday, May 23, 2005

In my prime

When I was in 7th grade, I got a calculator watch. The combination of a calculator watch and not such an active social life, together with my constant need to gadget (is that a verb?) led me into the interesting world of fractions. I would take the number 1, divide it by some other number, and find out what repeats. Some of these are easy, like 1/3 = .3333~. I also found that 1/7 = .142857~.

All of this is because 1 = .999~ (It really does. Trust Cecil.) So as long as a number consisting of 9's can be divided by some other number, it will eventually repeat. This page explains the idea pretty well.

Looking at numbers this way shows a real beauty that is found in the simplicity of the world. All this from a Casio.

My affection for composite numbers (the opposite of prime numbers) showed up later in life as well. When the Israeli phone company introduced two new features - one that calls back the number that last called you, the other that continues calling a busy number - I had trouble remembering which was which. The first was *42, the second *41, but I kept mixing them up. But then I remembered that *41 is known here as nudnik - and what's more annoying than a prime number? 41 can't be divided by anything! (I'm sure Hitchhiker fans could make a 42 association, but this was easier for me.) Might sound silly, but I haven't forgotten it since...

The Future of TV?

Conan O'Brien on the future of television.

Sunday, May 22, 2005

feeling sequential...

This Shabbat I was at my brother-in-law's house, and they wanted to play a game called Phase 10. Here's my thing about games: I like playing them, I can't stand learning how to play them. I just don't "get it". At least this time I was able to follow the instructions. My wife has had no end of frustration of my inability (my term) / unwillingness (her term) to learn such games as "Settlers of Catan" and Mah-Jong. I just look at the rules and get the shivers.

What's frustrating for my playing partners is that they assume that because I'm pretty good at one kind of learning, I'm naturally good at another.

Many years ago, my father showed me a kind of intelligence test where the results showed your method of learning. You were either Abstract or Concrete, Random or Sequential. This seems to be a widely known theory, and is discussed here. I don't know enough psychology to know if it is scientifically valid, but I can say about myself that I have a much easier time with sequential learning than random.

For example, I think that my difficulties learning to play games, drive a car, learn gemara and play most sports are connected to the difficulties I face in random learning, where many things happen at the same time, without a direct sequential order.

On the other hand, some of my biggest pleasures come from learning things in the concrete, sequential style. I love history, and remember things I learned in 7th grade. History is very sequential. And in general trivia is my favorite kind of game. All kinds of facts, where you just need to find a place to put them in your brain and store them there.

Two particular interests of mine are very much connected with my affinity for sequential learning: genealogy and etymology. They're both the study of where things come from, and show how we can't understand what something is today (a family or a word) without knowing what it once was, and what happened to its "cousins".

I'll probably end up posting a lot about both. In the genealogy realm I've discovered:

  • that I'm not a kohen but a levi
  • that a cousin of mine is actually related to his wife (fifth cousins, don't worry)
  • that I might be related to Anne Frank (I doubt it)

And in the etymological world, I've learned that:

  • cholent is related to the words cauldron, chowder and nonchalant
  • frum is related to prime, and prim
  • shmooze comes from the hebrew word shmu'ot

The above are of course just a few examples.

What is important is to remember that everyone has their own way of learning. The differences are what make the world so great.

The gemara gives a wonderful example of this:

Adam, the first human being, was created as a single person to show forth the greatness of the Ruler who is beyond all rulers, the Blessed Holy One. For if a human ruler [like Caesar, the Roman Emperor who was the ruler in their time and place] mints many coins from one mold, they all carry the same image, they all look the same. But the Blessed Holy One shaped all human beings in the Divine Image, as Adam was…And yet not one of them resembles another. (Sanhedrin 38a)


I see both the sequential and the random, both the concrete and the abstract in this passage! (So please don't make fun of me for having a hard time learning that game...)

Thursday, May 19, 2005

Truth is much stranger than fiction

There's a news story here about the real life Indiana Jones, and how he plans on finding the Ark of the Covenant by Tisha B'Av. He claims that the tunnels from the Temple led 18 miles south of Jerusalem, to the hidden place of the Ark. Maybe that will pass by Efrat...

While the story is making some buzz, I'm not too excited. I've already had my encounter with a real life character from a Spielberg movie. When I was in high school, we had a very small senior class (13 students) and an even smaller physics class (there were 3 of us.) I don't know exactly how, but the school hired a guy to teach physics named Jack Sarfatti. He wouldn't really teach us -he preferred to explain why he thought Steven Hawking was wrong. He would talk to us about his theories about time travel. This was odd, but it was San Francisco, so we weren't too shocked.

But what really got us was how he said he was the basis for Doc Brown in Back to the Future. He explained how he used to hang out with Spielberg and Coppola, and tell them his theories on time travel. There was certainly a similarity in appearance (not great from the photos I found online, but you'll get the idea)

Jack Sarfatti:



Doc Brown:



I've since then looked at his website, and here he claims that he and his friends were also the inspiration for Ghostbusters.

In any case, I prefer the movie character to the real person. It's simply easier to suspend my disbelief in a movie theater than in a classroom. And I assume it's the same way with Prof. Jones as well...

A couple of fun links

http://www.kontrabandcontent.co.uk/1/graphics/pics/BigRedButton.swf

http://grant.robinson.name/projects/guess-the-google/

Sunday, May 15, 2005

A Very Powerful Piece

This is a great post - it shows exactly the complexity I tried to describe in my previous post, but as a story.

Decisions, Decisions

I've been placed in a number of situations recently where I've had to clarify my views on making decisions.

  1. My kids - in first and second grades - came home from school and told us how their teachers told them how terrible the prime minister and education minister were for firing all those teachers. I tried to explain to them how there were two sides to the story, and while of course it was important to give money to teachers, it was also important to give money to the police, sick people, roads, etc.
  2. Someone noticed that I didn't go to Gush Katif on Yom HaAtzmaut, and tried to infer from that my opinion about the disengagement plan. We had a long talk, discussing many points (plenty of which I've discussed here before), but the bottom line for me was that the situation, and my views on it, are complicated. I can't simply say I'm for or against the plan - primarily because I don't have all the information in front of me.
  3. A potentially controversial issue for our synagogue was discussed with me by a fellow member of the board. He felt it was best to have the entire membership vote and decide, and I felt that difficult decisions of that nature are best decided by the elected representatives.

What's in common here? I think it relates to the old distinction between truth and peace. There are many truths, all of which are desireable. They coexist and often conflict with one another. Only God knows how to truly reconcile them. We, as people, can only try to balance them out - often at the expense of the two conflicting sides. That's the effort to make peace.

Do I want to leave Gaza? Of course not. And I obviously don't want to fire 4,500 teachers. But I'm not in the position where I have to make those decisions. Because if I was, I'd have to take into consideration other concerns (international pressue and budget realities, for example.) My "opinion" or "gut feeling" simply isn't that relevant here. A judge needs to judge on facts, on evidence. But of course this approach is complicated, and therefore not too popular...

And this is why I think that on most issues, a referendum isn't the way to go. It's nearly impossible for a mass group of people to make difficult decisions, to take all sides into account - to make "peace" from "truths". If you had three referendums - to spend more money on education, to lower taxes, and to reduce the national debt- all would pass, but no policy could come out of it all.

I do want to make one point clear though. When asked why Shas didn't support holding a referendum on the disenagement, Rav Ovadia Yosef said something to the effect of "how can an old lady decide an issue like this? It's up to the experts!". In the case of the disenagement, I support the referendum, not because I think we're better qualified than the polictians who have access to often classified information. But here, by having a referendum, Sharon would be forced to explain his case in a way that hasn't been done until now. And while it might not change the minds of many people, I believe it would lower the tensions that might otherwise lead to violence.

One of the great things about learning Torah is you don't always have to make a decision. You don't need to decide whether Rashi or the Ramban is right on Chumash, or whether only the Rambam or R' Yehuda HaLevi is right in philosophy. Both can - and are - right. I often find myself the same way with political parties here. I see things on both the left and the right that make sense - eilu v'eilu. But when it comes to making a final decision we aren't left with that luxury. So at the mininum - we need to take all sides into account, examine all the evidence. And occasionally say - we don't have enough information to make a decision. That's not cowardice - but actually bravery.

Monday, May 09, 2005

The Jerusalem Post and Me

The Jerusalem Post and I have had our ups and downs.

I first started reading it on my year in Israel after high school. It was 1990-91, the year of the first Gulf War. I've always been a news junkie, and the Post was my fix. In yeshiva and kibbutz, I'd be the first one to grab it, and read it cover to cover. I especially enjoyed the late columnists David Bar-Ilan and Sam Orbaum.

In the following two years in Israel I continued to read the Post, and even got a chance to visit the offices and meet with some of the staff members - Alex Berlyne, if I remember correctly. Interestingly, I remember asking Alex why the international edition of the Post was always so out of date, and couldn't they simply send the current news over to the States to have it printed there. This was shortly before the dawn of the Internet age, and Alex found my suggestion annoying - saying that the Jews abroad should really have their own paper.

When I was back in the States from 93-96, I became a regular reader of the Post's website, and I think on some level contributed to its popularity. When their website changed URL's in the early 1990's, I sent out emails to dozens of sites that had links to news sources, telling them to include the link. There are still some references to my suggestion out there on the web...

When we made aliya to kibbutz, we were allowed one daily paper. We chose the Post, although later the kibbutz preferred we take a Hebrew daily, so the post became only for Shabbat. For my daily paper I chose HaAretz, which was a significant choice. HaAretz was much more serious than Maariv or Yediot, and in many ways filled my needs the same way the Post had a few years earlier. So on a daily basis, HaAretz was perfect - better than the Post. But on Shabbat, I've never been able to connect with any of the Hebrew papers. I can read through them, occasionally find an interesting article, but I can't just relax with them the way I could with the Post.

When we left kibbutz, I actually ended up working for the Post for a couple of months. I was doing computer support for the Jerusalem Report, which is in the same building and owned by the Post. That's when I really felt like I'd reached the summit. I got to know all the staff; there were no more secrets. The romance was gone - certainly after they let me go during layoffs.

After I left, the only connection I had was via the website (and the Shabbat paper, which I still get now). But when HaAretz came out with their English website, there wasn't much choice. It was simply a much better site, so I would end up there much more often. And as if to say "we don't want you back", the Post added pop-ups and other shtick that made its site slow to impossible to load, so now I often go days or weeks without entering it. (Which for me, still a news junkie, is significant.)

A new twist is that the revamped HaAretz site is less comfortable for me than the old one, so I actually find myself not going into either on a regular basis. My guess is that RSS will be the future here. Ynet already has an RSS feed for their English headlines, and the Fresh news site, while not RSS friendly, has a lot of the same functionality.

Thursday, May 05, 2005

Email and Instant Messaging can lower your IQ...

This explains a lot...

Sunday, May 01, 2005

What I'm reading now...

I'm actually reading four different books right now - each in a different part of the house or my routine. I don't think there's any common thread between the three of them, other than because I'm reading them concurrently, it's taking much longer than if i read them sequentially...

  1. HaEzrach Y (Citizen Y.) - I just bought this one over Pesach. It's a cute little book, in Hebrew, where the author pretends to be an older man, writing to all sorts of government ministries, companies, and other institutions with crazy questions. He writes very politely, and they write back. Many (if not all) of the letters are on this website. Great for laughs.
  2. Chaim Weizmann: A Biography, by Norman Rose. - We got this years ago at a garage sale in Boston. It's a rather long book, and I've tried at times to start reading it, only to give up in the beginning. But for the past several weeks I've been reading it again, and it is interesting. I've only read up until the early 1930's, but the book paints a picture of a real visionary, with true leadership. We often look at the state as a part of an inevitable process, but without the efforts of people like Weizmann, I can't see how the state would have come into being. An interesting aspect of the book for me is how Weizmann put so much effort into effective political and diplomatic relations with the British government. My cousin Amichai Paglin was the military leader of the Etzel, and fought strongly against the British. A couple of years ago I finished reading the story of his efforts. I had pride for what he accomplished, anger toward the British, and felt that Weizmann didn't act strongly enough against them. Again, I've only read the Weizmann biography up until the early 30's, but I'm beginning to see that perhaps the issues were more complicated than I previously thought. Perhaps after I finish reading the book, I'll post my "final" conclusions.
  3. Punished by Rewards, by Alfie Kohn - In a previous post I discussed how I felt my father's educational philosophy jives with my religious approach. This book operates on similar lines, and expands the danger of rewards, and the value of intrinsic motivation into the realms of the workplace and childraising, as well as school. The book is full of ideas that are obvious once read, and are hard to believe that you didn't see them before.
  4. Mishnayot Masechet Maaser Sheni - For nearly a year, I've been walking around with a pocket Kehati mishnayot in my... pocket. I often only read a mishna or two a day, but there is satisfaction in starting, and hopefully someday finishing, a project like this. I also get a fascinating insight into life in the times of the Tanaim. How debate and discussion was valued (didn't see anything about Daat Torah there), and how much they really liked cakes made from figs.

Thursday, April 28, 2005

some fun Passover flash videos

There were some great Passover flash videos out this year:

http://www.passovergreeting.com/

http://www.shabot6000.com/sedaclub/index.php

http://haggadah.z-kit.com/h.swf

http://www.jibjab.com/matzah/matzah.htm (lyrics here: http://www.suburbanhomeboy.com/Mp3/index.asp?id=24 )

Monday, April 25, 2005

a Maxwell House conspiracy?

Almost every year, we buy at least one new Hagadah. This year we bought the Encylopedia Talmudit Hagadah. It was pretty good for background, but had very little commentary on the meaning of the text itself. Other hagadot that I enjoy are the Safrai's Hagadat Chazal, and Rav Kasher's Hagadah Shleima. A number of years ago I found in a used book store in Detroit another one of Rav Kasher's hagadot - the Israel Hagadah. It has been out of print for years, and is a beautiful book - I felt like I was stealing it by only paying six dollars.)

In any case, this year we had the seder by my brother-in-law and we needed to bring over some English hagadot. We brought some Artscroll ones for the kids, and two others by Elie Wiesel and Rav Riskin. But since we needed more, I also brought an old Maxwell House hagadah. These are very popular - everyone has probably seen one. It was a marketing tactic by Maxwell house going back to the 1930s. (Read about it here.)

Here's one of the earlier ones:

Haggadah: Passover Seder Service, Compliments of Maxwell House Coffee, Good to the Last Drop, Kosher for Passover



And here's a more recent one:







I always wondered why Maxwell House was sponsoring Hagadot. But then I got to thinking: coffee is made from beans. And beans are usually considered kitniyot, which we wouldn't be able to eat on Pesach. So maybe Maxwell House was able to get on the good side of the kitniyot prohibition by distributing thousands of free hadadot?


Something to think about...

Thursday, April 21, 2005

those fast firstborns

Today is Taanit Bechorot, so of course everyone makes sure to eat. Seeing how many people made it to minyan this morning (that I never otherwise see), I figured there must be a way to capitalize on it - offering pretzels every morning, or threatening anyone who doesn't come to minyan with food withdrawal for the rest of the day.

In any case, this day reminds me of a story that happened to us a few years ago:

We were talking to our five year old daughter about the story of Yaakov and Esav, and why it's good to be a "bechor" (firstborn). Our three year old son was listening, and then said "It's dark. But it's quiet." We had no idea what he was talking about, until we realized he thought we said what was it like to be "b'chor" -- in a hole.

Sunday, April 10, 2005

If You Want to Know Why, Just Look in the Mirror

In an earlier post, I mentioned a column from 1995 by Chaim Shacham, an Israeli diplomat. I found it in the back recesses of my computer. I think it's just as relevant today as it was 10 years ago:


If You Want to Know Why, Just Look in the Mirror

By Chaim Shacham, Deputy Consul-General of Israel to the Midwest

Who then has forsaken the Land of Israel? -- You Have! More than any Israeli, you have voted the loudest and strongest for territorial compromise, because you have remained in the United States. No matter how strongly you feel, how loudly you protest and how much you send to groups n Israel who oppose territorial compromise, as long as you remain here, you remain the primary reason that Israel must consider such a drastic step. The numbers are clear, the Jewish-Arab demography in Israel is a reality, and the large Jewish population outside of Israel is a fact. Roughly half of the world's Jews remain outside of Israel by preference. How can they then demand that the other half -- the half that have sacrificed so much already -- sacrifice even more, and in the judgment of their chosen government risk their very existence, in order to hold on to every inch of the Land, all in deference to those who don't even respect the Land enough to live there?! Pardon me, but even Israelis would consider that to be Chutzpah.

Do we have an historic right to all of the Land of Israel? Of course we do. But with all rights, come responsibilities. How can we expect to actualize our rights if we're not willing to shoulder the responsibilities and inconveniences that are a part of them.

Consider this. There are more than enough Jews in Chicago to change the destiny of the city of Hebron, if they would all move there tomorrow. Imagine, Hebron would become a Jewish city with a Palestinian minority overnight, instead of a Palestinian population center, with 500 Jewish residents who require special security arrangements. There could be signs at the entrances to the city - Now entering Hebron - A gift to the State of Israel by the Jews of Chicago. That's quite a bit more impressive than a sign dedicating the wing of a hospital or a school.

I'm not deluding myself into thinking that such a scenario would actually happen. However, I would like to make one point stick. When you sit in mourning this Tisha B'Av over the destruction of Jerusalem and the loss of the Land of Israel in our past, your thoughts may turn to the painful compromise in the Land of Israel that is taking place today. If you feel the urge to look for someone to blame, just make sure you also look in the mirror.

Wednesday, April 06, 2005

...Anybody want a peanut?

Most things about Israeli culture I find myself adjusting to comfortably. I've been here for a while, and with my religious approach of "negation of the galut", I try to make myself feel at home.

But there are still a few things that bug me. They're minor things, so I imagine they'll be hard to describe, but described they will be. Here are two:

  1. Rhythmic Clapping. I'm talking about when audiences start clapping with the exact same beat. When it would happen on David Letterman's show he would get a hypnotized look on his face. But there it would either happen coincidently, or at most an intentional "gag" by the audience to get at Dave. But here, they seem to think that it is the proper way to clap. One of Israel's more moronic TV shows - Dudu Topaz - would always start that way. I'm not sure which I hated more...
  2. Rhyming. In America, rhyming is reserved for nursery rhymes, limericks, and some songs. For some reason, in Israel when you want to say something serious in public - you'd better do it in rhyme. You see this at school/kindergarten parties, goodbye parties at work, etc. The main "speech" is always written in rhyme, and has the same dull rhythm. Now what really gets me, is that in English, it takes some skill to rhyme. (If you recognize the title of this post from the Princess Bride movie, then read the book to see just how Fezzik got to his rhyming skills and how difficult it was for him.) But in Hebrew, it takes no effort to rhyme at all! Both nouns and verbs have such standard suffixes, that rhyming happens without intent. After a recent such "rhyming speech" at my son's school party, I had to wonder if Ariel Sharon also gave a rhyming speech at the cabinet meeting when he fired the ministers of Mafdal or Shinui...

Sunday, April 03, 2005

I'm different...#1

I don't drive.

I'm 32 years old and I don't drive.

It's not that I've never tried, however.

When I was 15 I took Driver's Ed in high school like everyone else. I was supposed to take a drivers training course (the practical, not just theoretical course) in the few weeks of the summer before I left for my first trip to Israel in the summer after 10th grade. A good friend of mine was supposed to sign us both up for the course, since I was working. But for some reason - he didn't. So I never took that course, and never got my license like most of my friends did in the beginning of 11th grade.

When I came back from Israel, my dad had bought a new car, and his old one was waiting for me in the driveway to have as soon as I got my license, which I never did. Now my trip to Israel that summer was the main catalyst in my becoming religious. So in a way, it was a good thing that at the time I never got my license. For had I, especially with a car of my own, I don't know if I could have as easily given up driving on Shabbat. As it was, it wasn't so hard to not take the bus or go out in a friend's car.

Somehow I never managed to deal with driving while I was still in high school, and then I spent three years in Israel. When I came back to the States after that and got married, I was "lucky" that my wife was very comfortable driving. But I still knew that learning to drive was the right thing to do. I put it off a little bit at first, but still really wanted to learn because a) it would be easier for everyone, and b) getting my license before moving to Israel would mean it would be easier to transfer the license to an Israeli one.

Well, after a number of lessons, I got my license - just a few days before we made aliya. I drove one time by myself, and frankly, didn't enjoy it very much. But the pattern repeated and once again I was in a new place, where there was no immediate pressure to drive.

On kibbutz, they let one of us go and get our Israeli license right away. Naturally, it made sense for my wife to do so, and she did. It raised some eyebrows, but I let it slide. When I started working in the refet (cow shed) I needed to learn to drive a tractor. I took the lessons with a bunch of 15 year olds. Again, somewhat embarrassing, but after failing one tractor test, I passed. The kibbutz then let me go out for driving lessons. This was important to pass, because if you don't take your regular driving test within three years of making aliya, you need all 28 regular lessons. I took a bunch of lessons, and failed the test.

We then left kibbutz, and again, I needed to readjust before I could start thinking about driving again. When the hi-tech bubble burst, and I was unemployed for six months, I started taking my life back into my hands. I took lessons, and even took the theory test. I continued with my lessons even after I started working, and took a few tests (3 or 4) but failed every one. I don't really know why - I didn't think I did anything terribly wrong. But I guess I appeared nervous, and my lack of comfort just made me look unfit for a license.

On a daily basis - it doesn't bother me much. We have only one car, and my wife does need it. So I take rides or busses and get wherever I need to go. I do hope to take care of this for once and for all one day. But until then, I guess I'm ... different.

Thursday, March 31, 2005

My Father, My Teacher

How did I get where I am today?

I didn't grow up religious. The story of how I ended up religious is an important one as far as understanding who I am, but I won't go into it in this post. What I'd like to discuss here is how I arrived at my hashkafa within my religious observance, my worldview, my Weltanschauung.

I got involved in Orthodoxy by way of Bnei Akiva. Now for me Bnei Akiva was a social thing at first, so I guess had my social outlet been NCSY, or Chabad or whatever, then my hashkafa would have reflected that. But for many of you, Bnei Akiva's hashkafa is not terribly specific. Religious Zionism and Modern Orthodoxy. But that's a wide range of views, and most Bnei Akiva members aren't pinned down too much within that.

Now you can certainly see extremism in Bnei Akiva today, particularly politically, but also religiously - chardal and all that. But the Bnei Akiva education that I received in the States in high school and later in yeshiva in Israel was a moderate, old style Bnei Akiva. I'll get more to that later, but what's important here, is that I didn't become a typical baal teshuva - no going off the depend or acting "too weird", although I'm sure there was some of that. I even remember my rabbis noticing that I wasn't a typical baal teshuva, and within a short amount of time, I doubt anyone could tell me apart from someone raised religious. Had I become a baal teshuva in NCSY - I'm not sure my newly found religious fervor would have found its place in moderation, such as it was.

In any case, I was lucky that my process began when it did. The summer after 11th grade, I went to the Bnei Akiva program TVI - where I first became highly exposed to issues in Tora V'Avoda - as part of Modern Orthodoxy and Religious Zionism - that I highly doubt have been taught so well since. We learned issues about a mixed society, studying secular subjects, the value of labor, etc. But even more importantly, we had great teachers like Zvi Weiss and Mitch Heifetz, who really believed what they were teaching.

And again I got lucky that Bnei Akiva started a new year program in Israel my year - Midrash U'Maaseh. And that the yeshiva that hosted that program was Yeshivat HaKibbutz HaDati in Ein Tzurim. And that the Rosh Yeshiva at the time was Rav David Bigman, and the rest of the staff was also exceptional. And that the guys who I studied with were serious and also believed in what we were learning. All this, together with other factors - made me very lucky.

During my time in the yeshiva - two years, plus some of the time while I was in the army - I started to develop what I guess would become my particular hashkafa. And I continued this throughout the following years. A lot of it was based on the teachings of Rav Bigman, others from studying the works of Rav Soloveitchik, Shmuel Chaim Landau (Shachal), Prof. Yeshayahu Leibowitz, Rabbi David Hartman, Rav Aharon Lichtenstein, Rabbi Eliezer Berkowitz and others. I won't go into it in detail now - although I assume that I will touch upon it in the future in this blog. But the basic idea is that Torah Judaism is unique amongst religions because it doesn't promise paradise, but rather paradox, as Rav Soloveitchik wrote. The very challenge to make this world better, as part of an active covenant with God, is the primary "reward" of the Torah. Who could ask for anything more?

I've written about or given shiurim that relate to this issue in many fields - the concept of blessing God, what is "olam ha'ba", the significance of sleep, and many more. I could always see my influences as well as what I thought was some degree of chiddush of my own.

But recently, I've come to a fascinating revelation. My father is a "teacher of teachers." He has developed a very significant, effective approach toward discipline, classroom management and motivation. It involves teaching children responsibility, treating them with dignity, making them part of the decision making process and emphasizing intrinsic motivation instead of external rewards and punishment. I've heard his talks for years, read his books, and of course experienced his raising me.

But I never really thought about just how similar his educational approach and my religious hashkafa are. I don't know which came first - did my upbringing lead me to follow this path in Judaism? Or did my Jewish return lead me to identify more with my father's approach than I otherwise would have?

I'm not sure. But this is something I'll be certain to return to in the future.

Monday, March 21, 2005

Who lost Gush Katif?

In yesterday's news we learn that Effie Eitam is planning on moving to Gush Katif. And there are many others planning on going as well, perhaps thousands.

Now to me - this is the root of the problem. Why are they only moving now? In thirty years, only 8,000 Jews have settled there. Had twice the number come, the disengagement wouldn't happen. But now it's like someone who didn't brush their teeth for years, finally going to the dentist, and when the dentist says the teeth need to go out, he suddenly starts brushing his teeth.

Now to be honest, I can't blame the left for not coming to settle. They aren't the ones who wanted to be there. But for the Right, for those of us who believe in settling all of Eretz Yisrael, this was a failure.

Now, I'm sure there are those who would say, I'd love to move to Gush Katif on a permament basis, but it doesn't work for me because:

- I can't work in agriculture
- It's too far from my current job
- Too far from my family
- I need the city life

etc. etc.

All of these are reasonable arguments. I can't force anyone to relocate against those arguments. But they come with a price. If everyone says that, then no one comes. And maybe we simply can't hold on to a piece of land that not enough people believe in keeping enough that they're willing to live there.

That's the way it's worked throughout the history of Zionism. Whereever we've been willing to settle, we've kept. Where we haven't - we don't stay.

It's like the game of Risk. If you leave only one piece on a territory for too long - you can't keep it.

I don't know if we can keep Gush Katif. I hope so, but it might be too late.

But the lesson is clear for the future. If we want to keep other parts of Yesha we need to actually live there. Although that doesn't seem to be nearly as much of a problem as other areas. Look at the Golan - 75,000 residents is very likely not enough to prevent a good deal with Syria. And we are already now losing the Galil and the Negev. And perhaps the most acute example - Har HaBayit. The permanent status agreement will be determined on whether or not Jews are willing to go there now. Perhaps this is the time for some rabbinic courage.

And of course, all of this applies seven-fold to our brothers and sisters living in Chutz L'Aretz, many of whom in the Orthodox community, are very opposed to Sharon's plan. As the diplomat Chaim Shacham wrote over 10 years ago (I'm still looking for a site), if 100,000 American Jews had moved to Hebron, there would be no talk of giving it up. Their willingness to remain off the stage, is a terrible error. The Rabbi Resh Lakish said as much 1700 years ago, when he said that had the Jews of Babylon made aliya, the second Temple would never had been destroyed.

May no rabbi need to make a similiar accusation today.

Wednesday, March 16, 2005

Law and Order - L'Chaim!

Last night there was another "new" Episode of Law and Order on Channel One. We don't have cable, so all we have are channels One and Two. And there's really not that much to watch. It's a bit of a change for me from other points in my life where I watched much more TV. But I don't mind so much, there's much more to do than just TV. But Law and Order - that's the stuff. It's on at 11 PM (and SVU is on at 11:45 PM on Sat. Night) and I'll be exhausted the next day, but I don't want to tape it. I want to watch it now - my little bit of instant gratification.

Now I work in the Israeli equivalent of the DA's office (although I am not a lawyer). So that gives the show another perspecitive, and I sometimes ask the lawyers about what they think about the show. Sometimes realistic, sometimes not, sometimes could happen here, sometimes only in the US.

But one thing that I don't think I'll ever see here is the free flowing liquor in all the offices. Jack McCoy is always drinking Single Malt Scotch. I've never seen anyone in any office here with any alcoholic beverage. It's a big difference in culture I guess.

That's it for now - and remember, don't call between 11 PM and 11:45 on Tuesday nights!

Monday, March 14, 2005

the advantage of Mincha Gedola...

30 Muslim workers fired for praying on job at Dell - Thursday, 03/10/05

Sunday, March 13, 2005

a (sugar) shock!

Let's start from the beginning...

I grew up not religious and certainly not keeping kosher. And like any other normal American boy, I enjoyed Hostess. Twinkies, Ho-Hos, Fruitcakes, you name it.

Now as I came in contact with religious Jews, particularly when I went to an Orthodox day school, I not only learned about the laws of kashrut, but also started getting acquainted with the culture. Part of American Orthodox culture is pining for whatever kosher food you can't get where you live. The Canadians always want Entenmann's. And in San Francisco, where I lived, the ex-East Coasters missed Drake's Cakes. I had no idea what they were, except that my rabbis really wanted them. Me - I was happy with my Hostess.

As I started becoming religious, I naturally had to drop the Hostess. They had Lard! (Now they're much better - only beef fat .) And so it was until I moved to Boston after a few years in Israel.

Here they had Drake's Cakes! And they were good. Devil Dogs, Yodels, Ring Dings. All good. I never had to look at Hostess. This was the Jewish version.

And even here in Efrat, we can - and sometimes do - buy Drake's Cakes. And last week, when we bought a box of Yodels, I happened to look at the box. And I saw they had a web site, which I decided to visit.

And what exactly did I find on the website? And end to my innocence. Hostess and Drake's Cakes are made by the same company!

Now I'm not generally terribly naive about these things. I was a mashgiach for the OU, so I saw all sorts of behind the scenes kashrut things, where treif and kosher products were made in the same factory, and where occasionally I was privy to information that stuff that many people thought was treif was actually kosher.

But somehow this is different. I can't quite explain it. It's just that Hostess was so treif, and Drake's not just kosher, but somehow Jewish. It would be like finding out that the Pope is actually a Lubavitcher and Jackie Mason a practicing Catholic priest - and they live in the same house!

Anyway, I'll leave with a couple of very funny ratings of Hostess products:

http://www.bookofratings.com/hostess.html

http://www.bookofratings.com/hostess2.html