I just finished Loving Frank while on a plane yesterday. Although I really enjoyed Devil in the White City I was pretty ambivalent about reading Loving Frank.
Both are about Chicago, at least sort of, both feature architects and artists, and both have some historical fiction. Seems like my cup of tea, right? WRONG.
You see, I actually have an issue with books. It's one that I'm a little embarassed about, because I feel like it makes me seem immature, naive, and unworldly. And here it is: I actually can't get that into books whose protagonists do things that I don't approve of. I couldn't feel sorry for Frank and Mamah because they were both adulterers. Their spouses weren't abusive, cared for them, and their lives were nice. They both selfishly left home and family in the pursuit of "happiness."
I just can't get behind that. I couldn't feel bad for them, no matter the censure they recieved because a) they were adulters and fairly irresponsible, leaving others to clean up their mess at home, and b) they KNEW what would happen. Frank was well-known and Mamah well-respected in their community. It should have come as no surprise that they'd be shunned and censured. Does it suck? Yes. But it isn't shocking.
I did manage to cry at the end anyway (I won't tell you why, it'll ruin the book--although Pedant believes, and I sort of agree, that you can't ruin historically-based books because presumably the story is common knowledge), but I didn't love the book. There were some interesting feminist and philosophical ideas (Mamah Cheney was apparently friends with Ellen Key) but it mostly felt like a whiny "the world is against us, boo-hoo."
In conclusion, my book club sucks at picking books, we totally should have read Peony in Love.
Friday, November 16, 2007
"Bagel"?
I just had a "bagel sandwich" from Cosi. The bagel, if you could call it that, was a puffier version of the flatbread, squared off at the edges, and with a hole in the middle.
I now know what other ethnic groups felt when white people stole their music. I thought I felt this when I discovered that some companies sell blueberry bagels, but I really feel it now.
If you can't eat creamed pickled herring on it unselfconsciously, it's not really a bagel.
I now know what other ethnic groups felt when white people stole their music. I thought I felt this when I discovered that some companies sell blueberry bagels, but I really feel it now.
If you can't eat creamed pickled herring on it unselfconsciously, it's not really a bagel.
Thursday, November 15, 2007
Super Bug
Sigh. I'm embarrassed. It's been a while, a really long while, since I've blogged. I didn't go on hiatus on purpose, but I should admit that Jewbiquitous was never labor of love for me. Since the Queen of the World died, it's been more of a chore to blog than a pleasure, mostly because it feels like an echo of her, being the spawn of a comment she once made to Annie and me.
In the beginning of August, Annie mentioned that she was leaving out workplace and that she was planning on quiting the blogosphere. I have not hidden that I miss her here and that I'm thrilled when she decides to post, regardless. I left our office a couple weeks ago and I haven't had it in me for various reasons to sit down at the computer and write. Maybe it's the process of being in transition (to another job, to grad school, maybe to a whole new state!) or maybe I was never built for blogging in the first place. But I do think things and discuss things and I miss writing them down. So I'm not gone, so much as more periodic, now that my full time job involves writing applications and going on lengthy interviews.
On a related note, part of the reason I've been away is that I had a super bug: an antibiotic-resistant sinus infection that knocked me on my ass for the last month. Two rounds of antibiotics and several trips to the doctor later, I am finally healthy. A few observations (I know how y'all love lists):
1) Despite the name, a "super bug" does not give you super powers. It just super sucks.
2) Every time I write "antibiotic," I'm tempted to put a dash in there (anti-biotic).
3) Upon canceling and interview and worrying to my dad, in an email, that the interviewers would think I'm a wuss, he responded, ""If they think you're a wussy, have them call me. I don't raise wussies. Or geraniums, for that matter."
4) Marion Barry is absurd.
... And we're back.
In the beginning of August, Annie mentioned that she was leaving out workplace and that she was planning on quiting the blogosphere. I have not hidden that I miss her here and that I'm thrilled when she decides to post, regardless. I left our office a couple weeks ago and I haven't had it in me for various reasons to sit down at the computer and write. Maybe it's the process of being in transition (to another job, to grad school, maybe to a whole new state!) or maybe I was never built for blogging in the first place. But I do think things and discuss things and I miss writing them down. So I'm not gone, so much as more periodic, now that my full time job involves writing applications and going on lengthy interviews.
On a related note, part of the reason I've been away is that I had a super bug: an antibiotic-resistant sinus infection that knocked me on my ass for the last month. Two rounds of antibiotics and several trips to the doctor later, I am finally healthy. A few observations (I know how y'all love lists):
1) Despite the name, a "super bug" does not give you super powers. It just super sucks.
2) Every time I write "antibiotic," I'm tempted to put a dash in there (anti-biotic).
3) Upon canceling and interview and worrying to my dad, in an email, that the interviewers would think I'm a wuss, he responded, ""If they think you're a wussy, have them call me. I don't raise wussies. Or geraniums, for that matter."
4) Marion Barry is absurd.
... And we're back.
Shabbos With Squanto, Et Al.
The Kvetcher dug up Harley's post from a year ago about Thanksgiving and is not happy with it. The whole controversy is whether or not those Jews who take a more stringent view of Torah and halakhic requirements should celebrate the U.S. Federal Holiday every third Thursday in November, or whether one should avoid it like those temple prostitutes that buzzkill Rashi warned us about. The Kvetcher thinks it's a silly controversy, born of those who just like to pick fights with the secular world.
I'm actually inclined to agree, for the most part. You never hear any controversy about whether or not it's okay to celebrate such traditional American burnt meat festivals like the Fourth of July or Memorial Day, even though you tend to get a lot more Christian god-references in the music on those days. We can take this to the ad absurdum: President's Day Sales - does taking advantage of the discount bring on the wrath of the Divine?
I think there's a reasonable line to be drawn between being a holy people apart and being complete wet blankets about the universe, and looking down on Thanksgiving is the wrong side of the line.
Plus, I love stuffing.
I'm actually inclined to agree, for the most part. You never hear any controversy about whether or not it's okay to celebrate such traditional American burnt meat festivals like the Fourth of July or Memorial Day, even though you tend to get a lot more Christian god-references in the music on those days. We can take this to the ad absurdum: President's Day Sales - does taking advantage of the discount bring on the wrath of the Divine?
I think there's a reasonable line to be drawn between being a holy people apart and being complete wet blankets about the universe, and looking down on Thanksgiving is the wrong side of the line.
Plus, I love stuffing.
Wednesday, November 14, 2007
Two Quick Things:
1) I just read How We are Hungry by Dave Eggers, and have come to realize that, despite What is the What, I don't really like Dave Eggers. Or short stories.
2) I may be going public soon with my identity. Most of the three remaining readers know who I am already, but it will certainly make it more difficult for me to stalk ex-boyfriends using this name (NB: kidding! I'll still stalk them.)
Also, as a side note, unrelated to either of those points, I learned how to use a paper bindery-thingy today. And let me say, that I am soooo coool.
2) I may be going public soon with my identity. Most of the three remaining readers know who I am already, but it will certainly make it more difficult for me to stalk ex-boyfriends using this name (NB: kidding! I'll still stalk them.)
Also, as a side note, unrelated to either of those points, I learned how to use a paper bindery-thingy today. And let me say, that I am soooo coool.
Wednesday, October 31, 2007
A Mishmash of different things
1. I read Away with my book club. I liked it, and so did the roommate. No one else did. It was my first book club meeting, which was interesting. A varied group of people, and just like in class, there are some people who are smarter or more intellectual than others, and you can't tell the others to shut up because they are adding nothing to the discussion. I really liked the girl who was leading the discussion, though. If I remember correctly, she's a teacher.
At any rate, you should all read it and let me know what you think.
2. A little while ago, Esther Kustanowitz emailed me (and her whole list) a blog posting by XGH about how Esther missed the point in dating. Or she isn't dating correctly. I found his piece to be very interesting (no, seriously) and it made me think about a couple things:
A. We're told from childhood that we're "special" and "unique" then we grow up, are thrown into a new environment (often a city, it's easier to date and get married in a small town/small pool) and told to find someone like us. It's a pretty large order, especially for those who don't have a tight-knit community and the automatic filters of Orthodoxy. It can seem so overwhelming, so people HAVE to define boundaries, (like I want someone who covers her hair, but wears pants) if only to be able to start selecting.
B. We're also told that we shouldn't "settle," but also that "no one is perfect" and that "people can change" but "you shouldn't try to change someone." So what are we supposed to do? Pick someone whom you like the way that they are, but maybe they could be better, but they have to be pretty good already, or else you're worried that you could "do better." It is all a bit confusing. When people are "too picky" I think it comes from a place of not knowing HOW to choose, and making, sometimes arbitrary decisions.
As a corollary to that: while the characteristics that XGH lists (looks, money, family, etc) shouldn't be the only ways that you measure a possible mate, neither should you ignore them. For instance, I have an ex whose family was totally crazy. It wasn't just an issue of when we saw them, but also the example it set for him in terms of interpersonal relationships. He was really nice most of the time, but didn't get that when you're angry, you can't make personal attacks against someone you love. Well, you can, but you shouldn't. It made it impossible for me to be around him anytime that he was frustrated or angry, because I'd be worried that he'd take it out on me. I found myself avoiding conflict, etc, etc. Same sort of deal with looks. If you aren't attracted to someone, you just aren't. That is fine. You shouldn't canonize some ideal of beauty and look for that, but if you happen to have a thing for redheads (as I used to), or smaller women, or whatever, that isn't a bad thing. You have to build a life with someone, and that includes an intimate life. If you aren't attracted to them, your relationship, no matter how spiritual it may be, is not complete*.
C. I believe that if you are unmarried up to the age of 30, that it is possible that it just didn't click for you (I also believe that, on some level, everyone has the love life that they want, but we can talk about that later), but after 30 maybe you should start looking at yourself. The longer you stay single, the more set in your ways you get. That said, I'd rather be single at 35 than compromise and marry some guy just for the sake of getting married. XGH and I might disagree on whether or not marriage is an end in an of itself. I don't want to be married for the sake of being married, I want to find the one for whom my soul calls out (NB: CJ and I have been dating for a year, this week), and I don't think that, that is unreasonable.
*This assumes that you are attracted to other people. If you're asexual, go for it. Also, you don't need to be THE MOST attracted to your mate, but there has to be something.
At any rate, you should all read it and let me know what you think.
2. A little while ago, Esther Kustanowitz emailed me (and her whole list) a blog posting by XGH about how Esther missed the point in dating. Or she isn't dating correctly. I found his piece to be very interesting (no, seriously) and it made me think about a couple things:
A. We're told from childhood that we're "special" and "unique" then we grow up, are thrown into a new environment (often a city, it's easier to date and get married in a small town/small pool) and told to find someone like us. It's a pretty large order, especially for those who don't have a tight-knit community and the automatic filters of Orthodoxy. It can seem so overwhelming, so people HAVE to define boundaries, (like I want someone who covers her hair, but wears pants) if only to be able to start selecting.
B. We're also told that we shouldn't "settle," but also that "no one is perfect" and that "people can change" but "you shouldn't try to change someone." So what are we supposed to do? Pick someone whom you like the way that they are, but maybe they could be better, but they have to be pretty good already, or else you're worried that you could "do better." It is all a bit confusing. When people are "too picky" I think it comes from a place of not knowing HOW to choose, and making, sometimes arbitrary decisions.
As a corollary to that: while the characteristics that XGH lists (looks, money, family, etc) shouldn't be the only ways that you measure a possible mate, neither should you ignore them. For instance, I have an ex whose family was totally crazy. It wasn't just an issue of when we saw them, but also the example it set for him in terms of interpersonal relationships. He was really nice most of the time, but didn't get that when you're angry, you can't make personal attacks against someone you love. Well, you can, but you shouldn't. It made it impossible for me to be around him anytime that he was frustrated or angry, because I'd be worried that he'd take it out on me. I found myself avoiding conflict, etc, etc. Same sort of deal with looks. If you aren't attracted to someone, you just aren't. That is fine. You shouldn't canonize some ideal of beauty and look for that, but if you happen to have a thing for redheads (as I used to), or smaller women, or whatever, that isn't a bad thing. You have to build a life with someone, and that includes an intimate life. If you aren't attracted to them, your relationship, no matter how spiritual it may be, is not complete*.
C. I believe that if you are unmarried up to the age of 30, that it is possible that it just didn't click for you (I also believe that, on some level, everyone has the love life that they want, but we can talk about that later), but after 30 maybe you should start looking at yourself. The longer you stay single, the more set in your ways you get. That said, I'd rather be single at 35 than compromise and marry some guy just for the sake of getting married. XGH and I might disagree on whether or not marriage is an end in an of itself. I don't want to be married for the sake of being married, I want to find the one for whom my soul calls out (NB: CJ and I have been dating for a year, this week), and I don't think that, that is unreasonable.
*This assumes that you are attracted to other people. If you're asexual, go for it. Also, you don't need to be THE MOST attracted to your mate, but there has to be something.
Thursday, October 25, 2007
At Last My Love, At Last
I went to Chicago. It was beautiful. The weather was warm, but not hot, clear, and gorgeous.
I had two goals:
1) Take public transportation
2) Eat at Ken's
Sadly, I accomplished neither of those things. I was on a business trip, so I either walked or took cabs (but one of my co-workers, who lived in Chi-town gave me the grand tour from the cab), and I ate a lot of salad, but no Ken's. Stupid co-workers who eat stupid treif.
At any rate, I did walk around a lot. I had a drink at the top of the Hancock building (95th floor) and saw all of Chicago laid out for me in lights. I drank some local beer (and non-local tequila) and heard a great deal about aforementioned co-worker's love life. I also spent a lot of time in hotels, in meetings, and in a business suit (which makes me look like an old lady). This, however, was not Chicago's fault.
I called CJ from my hotel room to let him know that I loved the city. His response: "That's nice. You can love it from New York." LAME.
Don't worry though, I am still gathering a group of friends who will all move to Chicago together in a few years. I actually have 10 people who've committed. We'll see how well it works out, seeing as I can't even get anyone to move to the East side.
Oh well. I can dream.
I had two goals:
1) Take public transportation
2) Eat at Ken's
Sadly, I accomplished neither of those things. I was on a business trip, so I either walked or took cabs (but one of my co-workers, who lived in Chi-town gave me the grand tour from the cab), and I ate a lot of salad, but no Ken's. Stupid co-workers who eat stupid treif.
At any rate, I did walk around a lot. I had a drink at the top of the Hancock building (95th floor) and saw all of Chicago laid out for me in lights. I drank some local beer (and non-local tequila) and heard a great deal about aforementioned co-worker's love life. I also spent a lot of time in hotels, in meetings, and in a business suit (which makes me look like an old lady). This, however, was not Chicago's fault.
I called CJ from my hotel room to let him know that I loved the city. His response: "That's nice. You can love it from New York." LAME.
Don't worry though, I am still gathering a group of friends who will all move to Chicago together in a few years. I actually have 10 people who've committed. We'll see how well it works out, seeing as I can't even get anyone to move to the East side.
Oh well. I can dream.
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
Do you know what happens when a Jew is struck by lightning? The same thing that happens to everything else.
Well, Well, take a look at this: http://www.nypost.com/seven/10232007/gossip/pagesix/pagesix.htm
In short, Halle Berry made an anti-Semitic comment that was poorly edited out on the Tonight Show. Now, I certainly don’t have any problem with the comment itself. Guess what everyone, the secret is out. Some Jews have big noses. As far as negative stereotypes go, there are far worse things to be saddled with. Off the top of my head I’m having trouble remembering them, but I’m sure I’ll think of some as soon as I’m done brushing my teeth of the blood of Christian babies.
No, the real concern here is that Halle’s Berry’s poor decision making has now hemorrhaged out of her ability to pick a good script and into her sense of humor. After Monster’s Ball it has indeed been a slippery slope for Miss Berry; Gothika, Die Another Day, Catwoman, Robots and Perfect Strangers. FACT: If you added up all the dust collected on copies of these films at your local blockbuster you could give the entire state of Texas asthma. Thank goodness for all that good country air.
Oh, and she’s also the weakest link in the X-Men movies.
At least she had enough common sense to ask Leno to cut the bit. What’s kind of damning in all this is her excuse:
"What happened was I was backstage before the show and I have three girls who are Jewish who work for me. We were going through pictures to see which ones looked silly, and one of my Jewish friends said [of the big-nose picture], 'That could be your Jewish cousin!' And I guess it was fresh in my mind, and it just came out of my mouth. But I didn't mean to offend anybody. I didn't. I didn't mean any harm."
Don’t you see? It’s ok, because the joke wasn’t Halle’s at all. It was one of her Jewish friends/assistants. Despite this tired old equation of having “x friend=not prejudicial against x”, I honestly don’t believe that Halle Berry is an anti-Semite. Unlike some other celebrities I could name (but I won’t because it would be apocalyptic…o), Halle Berry doesn’t strike me as having an agenda of any kind. She’s just an actress with a steadily declining career that, in an effort to promote her sub-Paul Haggis Oscar bait, slipped up. I don’t think people should be banned from making off-color comments in service of comedy, especially if they’re satirical. What irks me is that it’s such a staggeringly unfunny bit. Facial photo morphs? Really? Didn’t we all get over this when Goo came out in the early 90’s. I’m not offended as a Jew, I’m offended as a funny person. And believe me, I’m funny. My black friend told me so.
In short, Halle Berry made an anti-Semitic comment that was poorly edited out on the Tonight Show. Now, I certainly don’t have any problem with the comment itself. Guess what everyone, the secret is out. Some Jews have big noses. As far as negative stereotypes go, there are far worse things to be saddled with. Off the top of my head I’m having trouble remembering them, but I’m sure I’ll think of some as soon as I’m done brushing my teeth of the blood of Christian babies.
No, the real concern here is that Halle’s Berry’s poor decision making has now hemorrhaged out of her ability to pick a good script and into her sense of humor. After Monster’s Ball it has indeed been a slippery slope for Miss Berry; Gothika, Die Another Day, Catwoman, Robots and Perfect Strangers. FACT: If you added up all the dust collected on copies of these films at your local blockbuster you could give the entire state of Texas asthma. Thank goodness for all that good country air.
Oh, and she’s also the weakest link in the X-Men movies.
At least she had enough common sense to ask Leno to cut the bit. What’s kind of damning in all this is her excuse:
"What happened was I was backstage before the show and I have three girls who are Jewish who work for me. We were going through pictures to see which ones looked silly, and one of my Jewish friends said [of the big-nose picture], 'That could be your Jewish cousin!' And I guess it was fresh in my mind, and it just came out of my mouth. But I didn't mean to offend anybody. I didn't. I didn't mean any harm."
Don’t you see? It’s ok, because the joke wasn’t Halle’s at all. It was one of her Jewish friends/assistants. Despite this tired old equation of having “x friend=not prejudicial against x”, I honestly don’t believe that Halle Berry is an anti-Semite. Unlike some other celebrities I could name (but I won’t because it would be apocalyptic…o), Halle Berry doesn’t strike me as having an agenda of any kind. She’s just an actress with a steadily declining career that, in an effort to promote her sub-Paul Haggis Oscar bait, slipped up. I don’t think people should be banned from making off-color comments in service of comedy, especially if they’re satirical. What irks me is that it’s such a staggeringly unfunny bit. Facial photo morphs? Really? Didn’t we all get over this when Goo came out in the early 90’s. I’m not offended as a Jew, I’m offended as a funny person. And believe me, I’m funny. My black friend told me so.
Friday, October 19, 2007
thank me later
First of all, if you have never heard of Dinosaur Comics click this now. Seriously. So hilarious especially for the dorkier set (not to make any judgments on our readership, but I think I am changing lives). I thank my buddy science guy for the revelation. Heres a taste:
PS. alternately, this could just be another thing you all already love, or harley has already posted on, and I could as always just be behind the curve. :)
PS. alternately, this could just be another thing you all already love, or harley has already posted on, and I could as always just be behind the curve. :)
Thursday, October 18, 2007
Smoke, Mirrors, and Sexy Witches
Stop telling me what to do! Seriously, STOP TELLING ME WHAT TO DO!!!
"Sexy should be the way you define it--free from peer pressure and the influence of a junk culture." How about free from the endless commentary from all sides about how we should and shouldn't dress ON HALLOWEEN, for hell's sake.
Last year (wow, really, a whole year ago), Annie blogged on Jews and Halloween and how we love it (or don't, actually, love it at all). I'm astounded that I didn't blog about Prettyboy's infamous Halloween party or the costuming I witnessed there.
For the record, there was more skin there than at market day in a nudist camp. There was even a young woman in assless chaps. 'Nuff said.
I went as a gangster, with a cigar and fedora and suspenders. Perhaps my lack of decolletage (and did I mention the assless chaps?) is why Prettyboy claims I dress like a nun (I don't, for the record, dress like a nun). At the time, I thought to myself: I can be sexy without being a sexy nurse or cat or witch. I can even wear pants and be sexy! Plus, it's Halloween! Who cares if I'm sexy (well, um, I did. Prettyboy and I had just started casually dating and I'll admit to wanting to be the hottest chick there. I didn't anticipate assless chaps, but I think I pulled off my own version of hot. My own, much more covered, not purposefully attempting to make that statement, version of hot.)
Yet now, upon reading Debra Condren's Huffpost post (redundant), all I want to do is slap on a pair of chaps and go marching through Times Square. Look at my ass! It's Halloween! Woo-hoo!
I probably won't, there are appropriate times to remove one's clothing and inappropriate times (no comment from the peanut gallery on this one, please). Likewise, I define how and where I want to be sexy (the answers: in any way I damn well choose and anywhere).
I think that's the point.
Sexy isn't about what you wear, so all this endless chattering about clothed and unclothed is all distraction from the real issue: the commodification and objectification of women's sexuality. I know, big words, I'm sorry, but it's true. These commentators aren't talking about clothing, they're talking about women. And in only addressing one aspect of a women (her body parts, her outfit), they're removing her humanity.
Do the endless commentators on women's dress realize that they're compounding the problem by objectifying us? Condren claims that women are disempowering themselves by wearing revealing clothing on Halloween; that the true way to be empowered is to cover up. Yawn. Wasn't there just a book written on the subject?
Once again, it's all how men perceive us:
Single and looking? Consider the type of partner you want to attract when you're
contemplating how you'll present yourself to the world, even for just one night.
Remember: the brainy, fully-clothed-yet-somehow-mesmerizing-librarian look attracts a totally different animal than does the Playboy Bunny who has nothing substantive to say or do. Think about it. Step out as Tina Tequila and you'll attract a like-minded buffoon.
Does no one else see the irony of arguing feminist values from "dress like that and no nice man will want you"?
Think about the issue in terms of discussions about hip hop lyrics. Talking heads mouth off endlessly on their crassness and violence, without addressing the race and class politics underlying their creation. It's a way of pretending to talk about the issues without actually addressing the root of the problems. It's about perception of propriety by the powerful and not about the content of the words and the actions (the language of the music and the wearing of provocative clothing).
So if the issue is that women are only valuing themselves insofar as they attract men, then let's address that. If the issue is that women are objectified and sexualized far too young, let's address that. But let's throw out the smoke and mirrors bullshit that is the discussion of sexy Halloween costumes.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go try on my sexy mental patient outfit.
Thursday, October 11, 2007
Jews Are Not Perfectionists, According to Some
If you haven't heard about it already, politically reactionary demagogue Ann Coulter was on Donny Deutch's talk show last night, and she told him that his being Jewish was okay and all, but he'd be "perfected" if he let Jesus into his heart.
I'm not too troubled by this. Any moderately (small-c) conservative version of the liturgy keeps the Aleinu and similar statements that, eventually, the rest of the world is going to wake up and say, like the Rowan Atkinson sketch about hell, that the Jews are right. So if other people are harboring the hope in their hearts that I will suddenly accept the Bahá’u’lláh into my heart, as long as it's not a major part of my interaction with those people, I do not care.
My favorite response is from New York Post editorialist (and son of the author of a famous neoconservative article on African-American/Jewish relations) John Podhoretz, who said:
I second that.
I wish to close with a piece of trivia. While discussing Ms. Coulter's inability to avoid proseltyzing cable talk show hosts, Emily2 and I got into a tangential discussion about the legal concept of "perfecting" secured debts under American law, which allows the person with the perfected debt of getting first proceeds out of the house, car, stock, etc. when it's sold at foreclosure. I set forth that perfecting people has been illegal in the U.S. since the Thirteenth Amendment, to which Emily2 pointed out that most references to Jews being perfected as chattels come from antiquity, with the most famous example ending in a whole mess o' plagues.
Just FYI.
I'm not too troubled by this. Any moderately (small-c) conservative version of the liturgy keeps the Aleinu and similar statements that, eventually, the rest of the world is going to wake up and say, like the Rowan Atkinson sketch about hell, that the Jews are right. So if other people are harboring the hope in their hearts that I will suddenly accept the Bahá’u’lláh into my heart, as long as it's not a major part of my interaction with those people, I do not care.
My favorite response is from New York Post editorialist (and son of the author of a famous neoconservative article on African-American/Jewish relations) John Podhoretz, who said:
If I could be assured that conversion to Christianity would instantly cause me
to lose 80 lbs., give me infinite patience when my daughters wake me up at 5 in
the morning, allow me to read 100 pages an hour with total recall, feel complete
indifference when some @$%&^ cuts me off in traffic, grow my hair back on
the top of my head and make it disappear from my ears, and keep me from checking
my Amazon ranking when I have a book out, I would seriously consider it.
I second that.
I wish to close with a piece of trivia. While discussing Ms. Coulter's inability to avoid proseltyzing cable talk show hosts, Emily2 and I got into a tangential discussion about the legal concept of "perfecting" secured debts under American law, which allows the person with the perfected debt of getting first proceeds out of the house, car, stock, etc. when it's sold at foreclosure. I set forth that perfecting people has been illegal in the U.S. since the Thirteenth Amendment, to which Emily2 pointed out that most references to Jews being perfected as chattels come from antiquity, with the most famous example ending in a whole mess o' plagues.
Just FYI.
Know Your Jewish Community: Simchat Torah, a little late
This was my first year spending Simchat Torah on Manhattan's Upper West Side. I knew that it was a scene, so, last year, fresh off an awful breakup, I avoided it.
That was a good choice.
Unfortunately, this year, CJ and I were not so wise. We decided to stay, made plans for meals (I hosted two, he hosted one, and we were invited out a lot), and accepted invitations to parties. In general I don't love chag* parties, I don't find them to be in the spirit of the holiday, and I don't really enjoy drinking all that much. It's fine, I'll do it socially, but it isn't really how I like to spend my time.
Basically, what I'm trying to say is that I had an awful time. Instead of recapping, in gross detail, everything that went wrong, I'll give you a few highlights:
1. Simchat Torah night: no women dancing. At one point it was me, my friend, and three little girls. Their mom actually thanked us for ensuring that there was SOME dancing in the women's section.
2. All of the people who came to services to socialize, not to pray. I couldn't even hear the Torah reading on Simchat Torah morning.
3. The people who got falling down drunk, and then were loud and obnoxious in the streets/hallways, causing me to hear the remark from a doorman that "I hate this holiday, it's worse every year."
4. Anyone who thinks that it is ok to get drunk and make out at a chag party is incorrect. Make out at home. Ew.
5. The lack of spirituality. I came to dance, and to pray, and it seemed like I was the only one.
Long story short, next year I'm going back to Washington Heights.
*Chag is the Hebrew word for holiday.
That was a good choice.
Unfortunately, this year, CJ and I were not so wise. We decided to stay, made plans for meals (I hosted two, he hosted one, and we were invited out a lot), and accepted invitations to parties. In general I don't love chag* parties, I don't find them to be in the spirit of the holiday, and I don't really enjoy drinking all that much. It's fine, I'll do it socially, but it isn't really how I like to spend my time.
Basically, what I'm trying to say is that I had an awful time. Instead of recapping, in gross detail, everything that went wrong, I'll give you a few highlights:
1. Simchat Torah night: no women dancing. At one point it was me, my friend, and three little girls. Their mom actually thanked us for ensuring that there was SOME dancing in the women's section.
2. All of the people who came to services to socialize, not to pray. I couldn't even hear the Torah reading on Simchat Torah morning.
3. The people who got falling down drunk, and then were loud and obnoxious in the streets/hallways, causing me to hear the remark from a doorman that "I hate this holiday, it's worse every year."
4. Anyone who thinks that it is ok to get drunk and make out at a chag party is incorrect. Make out at home. Ew.
5. The lack of spirituality. I came to dance, and to pray, and it seemed like I was the only one.
Long story short, next year I'm going back to Washington Heights.
*Chag is the Hebrew word for holiday.
Thursday, October 04, 2007
Great Scotts!
The Scottish have way better senses of humor than we:
(Hat tip: Queerty via Dan Savage, who is unquestionably NSFW.)
(Hat tip: Queerty via Dan Savage, who is unquestionably NSFW.)
Wednesday, October 03, 2007
Bragging Rights
Not to brag, but my friends are cooler than yours.
That's right, a close personal friend of mine is part of the documentary team that created Up at Lou's-the Fulton Fish Market Documentary (but in the interest of maintaining my secret identity, I won't tell you whom-- hint: it's not Ed Koch).
Do you like fish? Do you like documentary film-making? Then go see the most amazing documentary about the Fulton Fish Market EVER TO BE MADE!!!!
Friday, October 5, at the Millenium Theatre (66 E. 4st St) at 8pm.
That's right, a close personal friend of mine is part of the documentary team that created Up at Lou's-the Fulton Fish Market Documentary (but in the interest of maintaining my secret identity, I won't tell you whom-- hint: it's not Ed Koch).
Do you like fish? Do you like documentary film-making? Then go see the most amazing documentary about the Fulton Fish Market EVER TO BE MADE!!!!
Friday, October 5, at the Millenium Theatre (66 E. 4st St) at 8pm.
Tuesday, October 02, 2007
Breast Cancer Awareness Month (Or How My Day Couldn't Get Worse)
Today is offically the second day of Breast Cancer Awareness Month.
Ladies, please eat your greens and walk briskly. Also, don't forget your monthly exams.
And read all the articles to thoroughly freak yourself out about risk factors.
Most of all, educate yourselves.
Meanwhile, I'm going to spend the rest of the month under a rock.
Ladies, please eat your greens and walk briskly. Also, don't forget your monthly exams.
And read all the articles to thoroughly freak yourself out about risk factors.
Most of all, educate yourselves.
Meanwhile, I'm going to spend the rest of the month under a rock.
i just kant...
Blah. Sorry for the lack of participation (and general rabble rousing usually found in my contributions), but grad school is totally nuts. I have recently started divinity school, and let me just tell you... the fun here is definitely dead. Plus Christian theologians totally love to prove why Judaism is lame... and there's nothing that makes me more "Jew-ish" than reading old white men say how Jesus is the only way to go, and how Jews are lacking in the morality department. Throw in a lot of Kant and you can witness my crankiness. Plus evidently everyone in the MA program already knows the topic of their PhD dissertation!! what!
Alas, I would be lying if I said I wasnt having fun. Not actual fun, but student fun. You know, reading until your eyes hurt, debating for enjoyment, dropping names of dead philosophers... totally a good time. Email me if you want to talk about free will or your noumenal self! wooo!
On another note, the trees here are lovely and cars slow to ensure they do not hit me as i cross the road. People hold doors when my arms are full and my building actually has a perimeter. Life is nice, if not lonely without the "family."
... and i promise to write more (often and interestingly) when i actually have internet! woo
(and tent dresses are totally dumb and look bad on everyone... harley is 99% always right :) )
Alas, I would be lying if I said I wasnt having fun. Not actual fun, but student fun. You know, reading until your eyes hurt, debating for enjoyment, dropping names of dead philosophers... totally a good time. Email me if you want to talk about free will or your noumenal self! wooo!
On another note, the trees here are lovely and cars slow to ensure they do not hit me as i cross the road. People hold doors when my arms are full and my building actually has a perimeter. Life is nice, if not lonely without the "family."
... and i promise to write more (often and interestingly) when i actually have internet! woo
(and tent dresses are totally dumb and look bad on everyone... harley is 99% always right :) )
Another Letter
Dear Security and Assorted Men at My Building,
I'm really flattered that you take the time out of your busy schedule to hit on me every morning. When I wake up in the morning, I think to myself, "All I really want today is to feel awkwardly uncomfortable upon entering my place of work. Please, please let someone much too old for me compliment my outfit!"
But seriously, please stop. I don't mean to be bitchy, which is why I've always been sweet in the past. It's not that I don't think you're very nice guys: I do, really. But please stop with the compliments and the telling me to 'smile.' If I'm not beaming when I walk past you on my lunch break, keep in mind that we're not out at a bar, but, in fact, at our place of business. I could have something business-related on my mind (I don't) or just be really really cranky that I'm at work (I am). And, by the way, that's not flirtatious, it's creepy and annoying.
Also, it's very nice that you like my outfit or think that I'm looking "goooooooood" today. I appreciate the sentiment, really, but it makes me very self-conscious. In fact, it makes me not want to walk through those lobby doors even more than the fact that I'm going to work makes me not walk through those those doors. Who would have even thought that was possible? So, in the interest of my comfort, please keep that one to yourself.
Couldn't we just be cordial? How about a "Hello, how are you this morning"/"Fine, thank you" perfunctory relationship. That way, I can happily ignore it when you stare at my chest and you can go about your business of harassing delivery men.
Please? Or do I have to bring Prettyboy in here and get all kung fu on your ass?
Thank you.
Cordially,
Harley
P.S. Could you give the hot UPS guy my number?
I'm really flattered that you take the time out of your busy schedule to hit on me every morning. When I wake up in the morning, I think to myself, "All I really want today is to feel awkwardly uncomfortable upon entering my place of work. Please, please let someone much too old for me compliment my outfit!"
But seriously, please stop. I don't mean to be bitchy, which is why I've always been sweet in the past. It's not that I don't think you're very nice guys: I do, really. But please stop with the compliments and the telling me to 'smile.' If I'm not beaming when I walk past you on my lunch break, keep in mind that we're not out at a bar, but, in fact, at our place of business. I could have something business-related on my mind (I don't) or just be really really cranky that I'm at work (I am). And, by the way, that's not flirtatious, it's creepy and annoying.
Also, it's very nice that you like my outfit or think that I'm looking "goooooooood" today. I appreciate the sentiment, really, but it makes me very self-conscious. In fact, it makes me not want to walk through those lobby doors even more than the fact that I'm going to work makes me not walk through those those doors. Who would have even thought that was possible? So, in the interest of my comfort, please keep that one to yourself.
Couldn't we just be cordial? How about a "Hello, how are you this morning"/"Fine, thank you" perfunctory relationship. That way, I can happily ignore it when you stare at my chest and you can go about your business of harassing delivery men.
Please? Or do I have to bring Prettyboy in here and get all kung fu on your ass?
Thank you.
Cordially,
Harley
P.S. Could you give the hot UPS guy my number?
Thursday, September 27, 2007
Dear Women of New York,
Stop wearing tent dresses! They are unflattering and unattractive! Just STOP! 
Don't look at me all saucily like that. You know what I'm talking about and, secretly, you agree.
Don't look at me all saucily like that. You know what I'm talking about and, secretly, you agree.I know, I know. It's hard. When Fashion says it's right, it's so hard to say it's wrong. I feel your pain. I know the siren call of fashions that will never suit my body, of formal shorts and skinny jeans. I feel your pain, I do.
But here's a hint: if it makes the model look preggers, it's not going to look good on you.
See how her eyes are downcast, as if to say, "Oh no! What was I thinking when I put on this dress? You can't even tell I have a figure under here. I could be smuggling the Hindenburg under here."
It's time to stand up for yourselves, women of New York. Stand up for yourselves and shout from the rooftops: I refuse to wear something that someone could mistake for a muu-muu! I refuse to walk around in what may be misconstrued as camping equipment! I refuse to be mistaken for a giant toilet roll cover!
Thank you for your time. Damn the man; save the Empire [waist].
XOXO,
Harley
On Linguistic Irony
About a week ago, Eboo Patel, the creator of the Interfaith Youth Core, wrote a brief article for The Washington Post and Newsweek's On Faith project: On Muslim Antisemitism. In short, the piece discusses the voices in Islam condemning Anti-Semitism and Holocaust denial.
The title of the article caused my brain juices to percolate (always dangerous and slightly messy): Muslim Anti-Semitism. It seemed to me that that phrase was linguistically ironic, at the very least, considering that the world's Muslim population are, by and large,* Semites themselves.
The use of "Anti-Semitism" as "Anti-Jewish," which was the term's original, if etiologically confusing, meaning, obscured the meaning of "Semite": a label that covers Jews and Arabs alike.
To clarify, a Semite is "A person belonging to the race of mankind which includes most of the peoples mentioned in Gen. x. as descended from Shem son of Noah, as the Hebrews, Arabs, Assyrians, and Aramæans. Also, a person speaking a Semitic language as his native tongue." (Thanks, OED)
So, technically, to be anti-Arab is also to be anti-Semitic.
The whole thing reminded me of the conversation that I had with the Afghani cab driver about the nature of modern anti-Semitism.
All of which just made me realize how the forms may appear to shift, but, functionally remain the same. Which is really to say: think carefully about those unfair epitaphs you before hurling them at others.
*I'm using a broad definition of Semitism extrapolated from the reach of Semitic languages in the late ancient period. Using that matrix, the Middle East and Asia Minor are both considered geographically Semitic areas, where Semitic languages are still in use. This area is also the geographic area where counties with a Muslim majority are concentrated. It should be noted, for the purposes of intellectual honesty, that by numbers, the highest populations of Muslims live in South and East Asia (which also includes Iran and Afghanastan), but constitute a minority, proportionately, in those regions.
The title of the article caused my brain juices to percolate (always dangerous and slightly messy): Muslim Anti-Semitism. It seemed to me that that phrase was linguistically ironic, at the very least, considering that the world's Muslim population are, by and large,* Semites themselves.
The use of "Anti-Semitism" as "Anti-Jewish," which was the term's original, if etiologically confusing, meaning, obscured the meaning of "Semite": a label that covers Jews and Arabs alike.
To clarify, a Semite is "A person belonging to the race of mankind which includes most of the peoples mentioned in Gen. x. as descended from Shem son of Noah, as the Hebrews, Arabs, Assyrians, and Aramæans. Also, a person speaking a Semitic language as his native tongue." (Thanks, OED)
So, technically, to be anti-Arab is also to be anti-Semitic.
The whole thing reminded me of the conversation that I had with the Afghani cab driver about the nature of modern anti-Semitism.
All of which just made me realize how the forms may appear to shift, but, functionally remain the same. Which is really to say: think carefully about those unfair epitaphs you before hurling them at others.
*I'm using a broad definition of Semitism extrapolated from the reach of Semitic languages in the late ancient period. Using that matrix, the Middle East and Asia Minor are both considered geographically Semitic areas, where Semitic languages are still in use. This area is also the geographic area where counties with a Muslim majority are concentrated. It should be noted, for the purposes of intellectual honesty, that by numbers, the highest populations of Muslims live in South and East Asia (which also includes Iran and Afghanastan), but constitute a minority, proportionately, in those regions.
Monday, September 24, 2007
A Revamped "On Atheist," AKA: Whatever Happened to Jared Leto?
You’re buzzing along and suddenly, one day, you look up and realize that you don’t recognize this place. Your parents have moved from their three bedroom house in Rockville to a condo in Potomac (zip code makes all the difference). Your siblings have paired off and procreated.
You’re living in Brooklyn and you’ve blinked and suddenly all your friends are moving away to pursue PhDs and law degrees and you realize that no one lives here anymore. You look in your closet and you realize that you own more shoes than Satan and not a single pair of them are anti-establishment Doc Martens. In fact, the closest you get to anti-establishment are a pair of Rocket Dogs you picked up on sale at DSW at the mall. It suddenly dawns on you that, without you recognizing the change, you are an adult, in your mid (not early) twenties, and you’re going to have to start getting serious about shit.
So you research PhD programs because you’ve always wanted to be a historian and doing programming at a non-profit is just not cutting it; you begin to discuss the M-word (it rhymes with carriage) with your significant other because it seems de rigueur for people in your age bracket; and you finally trash your well-worn collection of middle school papers that you’ve been schlepping from apartment to apartment for the last half decade, ever since your parents determined to sell the family house and move into the aforementioned condo.
Feeling all alone and finally reflecting on the myriad of insecurities that seem to have piled up on your doorstep while you were out at one of those Bryant Park summer movies drinking red wine from a plastic cup, you turn to the one thing that always helped center you in times of trouble (or in times of ennui): God. But something strange has happened here, too. Like your parents, like your friends, like your stability, God has packed up and moved away. You were so certain about God, but you realize that while you were learning other things, you unlearned God.
What do you do now? Is God like the PhD programs and apartment cleaning? Do you go out and try to recapture God, to reconnect with God like you reconnected with all of those random friends from high school whom you barely remember and with whom you now have to have a series of those vapid “remember when” conversations? Are you going to have “remember when” conversations with God?
What does the new, improved, grown up version of yourself do?
You hear all the time about people finding God, but rarely about them losing God. When you declare yourself an atheist, you proclaim that there is no God, but no one talks about the pain of that loss, a pain more deeply felt because it also entails losing those whom you’d consigned to heaven, now no longer extant. It’s the second loss of your mother, whose death was the impetus for your intractable belief in a higher power in the first place. And how do you respond to that loneliness, that loss, without the structures of the religion that had always been there to embrace and comfort you, that had provided a context for your relationship with God, that had given words to your still, silent pleas back when you didn’t have the words yet to ask the right questions or describe what you needed.
Does losing God mean losing religion? If you no longer have God, can you still benefit from the forms and rituals that religion provides? Paralleling your realization about the end of your childhood, once you realize that God is gone, can you retain the benefits that you felt when still in the innocence of youth?
I don’t know the answer to that. I do know that I continue to observe Shabbas, in my way, and to follow the rituals, to attend a shul that allows me to be myself religiously and politically, and to engage with Jews across the spectrum of observance and faith. I figure that, if there’s a God to be found, I’ll be in the right place to find God. And if not, then I’ll just be in the right place for me.
As for Jared Leto, I’m sure he’s out there, somewhere, along with other expunged remnants of my adolescence.
You’re living in Brooklyn and you’ve blinked and suddenly all your friends are moving away to pursue PhDs and law degrees and you realize that no one lives here anymore. You look in your closet and you realize that you own more shoes than Satan and not a single pair of them are anti-establishment Doc Martens. In fact, the closest you get to anti-establishment are a pair of Rocket Dogs you picked up on sale at DSW at the mall. It suddenly dawns on you that, without you recognizing the change, you are an adult, in your mid (not early) twenties, and you’re going to have to start getting serious about shit.
So you research PhD programs because you’ve always wanted to be a historian and doing programming at a non-profit is just not cutting it; you begin to discuss the M-word (it rhymes with carriage) with your significant other because it seems de rigueur for people in your age bracket; and you finally trash your well-worn collection of middle school papers that you’ve been schlepping from apartment to apartment for the last half decade, ever since your parents determined to sell the family house and move into the aforementioned condo.
Feeling all alone and finally reflecting on the myriad of insecurities that seem to have piled up on your doorstep while you were out at one of those Bryant Park summer movies drinking red wine from a plastic cup, you turn to the one thing that always helped center you in times of trouble (or in times of ennui): God. But something strange has happened here, too. Like your parents, like your friends, like your stability, God has packed up and moved away. You were so certain about God, but you realize that while you were learning other things, you unlearned God.
What do you do now? Is God like the PhD programs and apartment cleaning? Do you go out and try to recapture God, to reconnect with God like you reconnected with all of those random friends from high school whom you barely remember and with whom you now have to have a series of those vapid “remember when” conversations? Are you going to have “remember when” conversations with God?
What does the new, improved, grown up version of yourself do?
You hear all the time about people finding God, but rarely about them losing God. When you declare yourself an atheist, you proclaim that there is no God, but no one talks about the pain of that loss, a pain more deeply felt because it also entails losing those whom you’d consigned to heaven, now no longer extant. It’s the second loss of your mother, whose death was the impetus for your intractable belief in a higher power in the first place. And how do you respond to that loneliness, that loss, without the structures of the religion that had always been there to embrace and comfort you, that had provided a context for your relationship with God, that had given words to your still, silent pleas back when you didn’t have the words yet to ask the right questions or describe what you needed.
Does losing God mean losing religion? If you no longer have God, can you still benefit from the forms and rituals that religion provides? Paralleling your realization about the end of your childhood, once you realize that God is gone, can you retain the benefits that you felt when still in the innocence of youth?
I don’t know the answer to that. I do know that I continue to observe Shabbas, in my way, and to follow the rituals, to attend a shul that allows me to be myself religiously and politically, and to engage with Jews across the spectrum of observance and faith. I figure that, if there’s a God to be found, I’ll be in the right place to find God. And if not, then I’ll just be in the right place for me.
As for Jared Leto, I’m sure he’s out there, somewhere, along with other expunged remnants of my adolescence.
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