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/

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.

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.

Email and Instant Messaging can lower your IQ...

This explains a lot...

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.

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 )

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:





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...

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.

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.

...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...

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.

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.

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.

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!

the advantage of Mincha Gedola...

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

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

The State of the Union

I guess I can't really start without a political post. So here goes:

I live in Efrat. I don't know where that puts me on the political map, but there are people here both on the right and left. I see what a lot of them write about the political situation, and my main reaction is that things are more complex than they tend to say.

Here are some common comments:

It is immoral for the State to move people out of their homes. I don't think so. Lets say the government decided that for security or national reasons it was important to move 100,000 people from Gush Dan to the Negev or the Galil or even to Gush Katif. While it might be difficult for the people being relocated, and they should be compensated, I don't feel it's immoral.

It is never acceptable to give up land. Here too I disagree. In a war situation, there is sometimes a need to give up land to save lives. In the War of Independence, we gave up Gush Etzion and even the Old City of Jerusalem. We could have kept on fighting until the last man. But it was reasonable to stop fighting at some point. Now you can argue that the circumstances are different now than they were in 1948, and that by giving up land we're actually risking more lives instead of saving them, but the principle of giving up land has its validity.

The country is not being run in a democratic manner. While many people in the country aren't happy with the way that Sharon, Olmert, Mofaz et al are running the country, I think it's going too far to say that dissatisfaction = no democracy. In most countries many of the people aren't happy with the people in power. Even Sharon's rejection of the Likud referendum, and the firing of the opposing ministers isn't non-democratic. Because, bottom-line, the Likud party or the Knesset as a whole could simply topple the government. It wouldn't even be that hard. But they're not interested in doing so - for personal or political reasons. If they couldn't, then it wouldn't be a democracy. But they can. Why don't they - ask them!

We can't rely on this non-Torah run State. This one bothers me a lot, because it shows tremendous lack of gratitude. The fact is, that the achievements of the past 100 years of Zionism were due to the hard work of nonreligious Jews! The diplomatic and settlement activity before the State, the hard won wars, even the political parentage of the settlement movement. We didn't have any trouble saying that all those things were good. But now that they disagree with us - their lack of religious observance disqualifies them from leadership?

Sharon's leadership style is improper. This is connected to the democracy issue, but there's another point here. Sharon is a bulldozer. He continues to push ahead with his plan, no matter what his own party or anyone else says. That does indicate stubbornness, and is frustrating for his opponents. But what if it was the other way around? What if he was to the right of his party? (Remember David Levy with Bibi?) And what if despite that he continued to hold to his - our - positions? Would we be crying about his leadership or saying that this is the way to lead?

Relying on a diplomatic process is against Jewish values. I don't think this is true historically. There has always been a triangle of effort in the international realm - spirituality/prayer, military action, and diplomacy. We see this in midrashim going back to Yakov's encounter with Esav. But it has always continued that way. Whenever the leadership has adopted only one, the result was tragedy. Only prayer - think of how many lives might have been saved in the Holocaust. Only diplomacy - the failure of Oslo. And only military - well, there are plenty of examples in the Tanach where that has failed. All three options are valid and have to be used wisely.

We can't rely on any Arabs. This one just seems silly. What about the SLA? What about the numerous Arabs in the territories who help us find the terrorists and eliminate them? And what about the future?

The Arabs will never change. I think if you asked 25 years ago if the Soviet Union would fall, no one would have believed you. And who would believe that Germany would so quickly abandon its Nazi past? And Vatican II? The true face of history is that sometimes changes come quickly. Who knows what will happen next? Often I'm glad that God leads our path of redemption, because if it was entirely up to us - our pessimism would never let us get out the door.

So where does this leave us? Does all this mean that the hitnatkut/disengagement is the right choice? I don't think so. But I think that modesty demands that we realize that there might be another side. I think the main argument against it is that it will encourage terror, in the same way that a quick withdrawal from Iraq by the US would. Does Arafat's death change things? I don't know. Are there other geopolitical factors at play? Perhaps.

And here's the biggest problem. The one person who really knows, and who can really explain it, Ariel Sharon - isn't talking. Maybe he has a reason to keep quiet. But I think it's much to risky.

I think that the biggest advantage of a referendum would be that it would force the proponents of the plan to explain themselves. Elections wouldn't do that - the campaign would be about people, parties, not the plan itself. But a referendum would finally allow us all to know what the real reason is. And my suspicion is that is exactly why Sharon is so strongly against it.

There's much more to say about this, but I'll leave it here for now, and maybe it will continue in the comments.

I'm trying this again...

I've put this off for a while. Over the past several weeks, I've been reading more and more blogs. I've started using My Yahoo, which allows me to add the RSS feeds of various blogs and other pages and see the updates all on one page. It makes it easy to view blogs regularly, and that's exactly what I've been doing.

But despide my increase in blog-reading, my blog-writing has frozen. Why?

I think there are three reasons:

a) I'm busy. I'm actually really busy - with work, home, my shul, other projects etc. Now it's not that I don't waste time (see my reading blogs above.) But writing takes energy and a certain amount of commitment. For me to declare that I have the energy and time to write, then I'm basically saying that I officially am putting off more important things. And that's hard to do.

b) I don't know if I bring myself to write about the real things that are important to me. It's hard to get them out, so I'm concerned I'll end up writing fluff, and that won't bring me back (or potential readers.)

c) I think the thing I'm most afraid of is The Last Curse. I'm referring to the set of curses in Devarim (Deuteronomy), where God promises just about every bad thing that can happen to the Jewish people. War, famine, disease - you name it. But the very last curse - what would appear logically to be the worst of all is:

And there you will offer yourselves for sale to your enemies as slaves and slavewomen, and there will be no buyer. (Devarim 28:68)

The idea here is that not only are you sold into slavery, but no one even wants to buy you. And so the fear would be that not only would I spend valuable time writing things that I think are important - but it wouldn't interest anyone.

But here I go anyway. I guess even if no one else reads this, it can be cathartic for me, and at least all these strange ideas running through my skull will be somewhat organized.

So I'll try to write at least one thing daily - and see how it goes.