Esrog Jelly is a seguloh for an easy child-birth.
When my mother was in labour with my brother, they decided after something like twenty or thirty hours to commit a Caesarian. Labour was not easy. And apparently, horror stories like that were by no means uncommon. Back in the narrow-hipped day.
[She did not take esrog jelly. She had never even heard of it.]
Years ago, the sister of a friend gave birth to her firstborn in approximately twenty minutes. She was back on her feet again in hours. Unusual, especially for so tiny a woman.
[She didn't take esrog jelly either. Wouldn't have even known what it was.]
Now Ed writes:
"During one of my wife's labors, she ate Esrog Jelly from Rebbetzin Kanievsky when she was about 6 cm dilated.
A mere 15 minutes later, she was ready and the baby was out in minutes. "
[See comment thread on this post: http://dovbear.blogspot.com/2007/10/101-uses-for-used-125-citron.html]
So I had to wonder - what would've happened if my friend's sister had eaten that jelly?
P'TOINGGG!!
Better have a net handy.
The foetus would've shot out of the womb like a clown from a circus cannon, and the birth canal would've made a sharp snapping sound as it slammed shut, kinda like bubble gum popping.
The kid would've ended up pointy-headed from the high-speed squeeze-out.
Either that or tube-shaped.
Wednesday, October 03, 2007
THE GENTLE BREEZE OF MANFRED GERSTENFELD
A correspondent forwards a link to an interesting article:
http://www.ynetnews.com/articles/0,7340,L-3455441,00.html
Quote:
"Gerstenfeld, a senior member of the Jerusalem Center for Public Affairs (JCPA), is the creator of the "Bad News About the Netherlands" project, an initiative he said was aimed at showing Israel's media warriors that attack is the best form defense. "
Though Gerstenfeld comes across as strident and combative, which is unfortunate, I applaud his endeavor.
While living in the Netherlands, I was told regularly that my country (the US) was a horrible fascistoid entity, daemonic and vile, filled with the ignorant rejects of Europe, and that I was so lucky to live in the most blessed and civilized country on the entire face of the planet (the Netherlands).
[That was, of course, why so many poor fuddled refugees (Jews, Indos, Surinamers, Turks, Maghrebis, eccentric Yankees......) were so desperate to live in 'Olland.]
Not exactly the most pleasing picture, nor the most accurate.
There is a drang in Dutch newspapers and webfora to stereotype - Americans are stupid, vulgar, and cruel, Israelis are violent and fanatic, Germans are humourless and dull, Belgians are morons, and rather unclean, the French are arrogant and filthy, the Italians.....
Jews, in the Dutch press, are usually triumphalist complainers. Plus all the usual stereotypes.
Whereas the Dutch, of course, are tolerant sober superhumans.
News "facts" framed in a way that pleases readers become poisoned fairy tales.
Everyone loves fairy tales.
So, I actually like Gerstenfeld's stridency and combativeness.
I find it most refreshing.
And I am not easily refreshed.
------------------------------------
Note: I've actually seen mention of Manfred Gerstenfeld's noble endeavor a few times already. I first ran across his name four or five years ago.
For background and biodata: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Manfred_Gerstenfeld
This article:
http://www.jcpa.org/phas/phas-gerstenfeld-1-f05.htm
is as good an introduction as any to his oevre.
He is at his very best when he tilts against the windmill of Dutch self-righteousness. But that just may be my appreciation speaking.
Further note: Another article about Gerstenfled's cheese-baiting can be found here:
http://israel-palestijnen.blogspot.com/2007/08/slecht-nieuws-over-nederland-in-isral.html
It is from this blog:
http://israel-palestijnen.blogspot.com/
Which appears to be an impartial and balanced source of material about the conflict between Israel and the Arabs, among other things.
http://www.ynetnews.com/articles/0,7340,L-3455441,00.html
Quote:
"Gerstenfeld, a senior member of the Jerusalem Center for Public Affairs (JCPA), is the creator of the "Bad News About the Netherlands" project, an initiative he said was aimed at showing Israel's media warriors that attack is the best form defense. "
Though Gerstenfeld comes across as strident and combative, which is unfortunate, I applaud his endeavor.
While living in the Netherlands, I was told regularly that my country (the US) was a horrible fascistoid entity, daemonic and vile, filled with the ignorant rejects of Europe, and that I was so lucky to live in the most blessed and civilized country on the entire face of the planet (the Netherlands).
[That was, of course, why so many poor fuddled refugees (Jews, Indos, Surinamers, Turks, Maghrebis, eccentric Yankees......) were so desperate to live in 'Olland.]
Not exactly the most pleasing picture, nor the most accurate.
There is a drang in Dutch newspapers and webfora to stereotype - Americans are stupid, vulgar, and cruel, Israelis are violent and fanatic, Germans are humourless and dull, Belgians are morons, and rather unclean, the French are arrogant and filthy, the Italians.....
Jews, in the Dutch press, are usually triumphalist complainers. Plus all the usual stereotypes.
Whereas the Dutch, of course, are tolerant sober superhumans.
News "facts" framed in a way that pleases readers become poisoned fairy tales.
Everyone loves fairy tales.
So, I actually like Gerstenfeld's stridency and combativeness.
I find it most refreshing.
And I am not easily refreshed.
------------------------------------
Note: I've actually seen mention of Manfred Gerstenfeld's noble endeavor a few times already. I first ran across his name four or five years ago.
For background and biodata: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Manfred_Gerstenfeld
This article:
http://www.jcpa.org/phas/phas-gerstenfeld-1-f05.htm
is as good an introduction as any to his oevre.
He is at his very best when he tilts against the windmill of Dutch self-righteousness. But that just may be my appreciation speaking.
Further note: Another article about Gerstenfled's cheese-baiting can be found here:
http://israel-palestijnen.blogspot.com/2007/08/slecht-nieuws-over-nederland-in-isral.html
It is from this blog:
http://israel-palestijnen.blogspot.com/
Which appears to be an impartial and balanced source of material about the conflict between Israel and the Arabs, among other things.
SPACECAKE - NOW 'ECOLOGICALLY SOUND'!
Per an article in the Gazet van Antwerpen, coffee shops in Amsterdam want to contribute their bit to saving the world.
Source here:
http://www.gva.be/nieuws/in_de_rand/default.asp?art={855A3AEA-0633-4874-8892-C151E9D4D6AC} but it's in Dutch, so don't bother unless you read the language.
The gist of this is that some of the infamous Dutch coffee shops, which specialize in pot and hashish preparations, will start making an 'animal friendly' version of a confection known as spacecake. To wit, they will no longer use eggs from oppressed battery chickens, but instead utilize eggs lovingly and calmly extruded by happy chickens that run around freely pecking at worms.
This is great news. I'm sure you're all giddy.
It is also misleading. Most hashish or marijuana confections make use of what is called cannabutter - clarified butter in which the active components (cannabinoids) are dissolved or suspended, by a process of heating the butter with the key ingredient.
[Think of it as ghee for potheads.]
Butter, as you know, comes from cows.
And most cows do not run around happily pecking at worms. Many cows actually have far less light hearted personalities, due to their grim lifestyle and depressive bovine points of view.
Moo.
Source here:
http://www.gva.be/nieuws/in_de_rand/default.asp?art={855A3AEA-0633-4874-8892-C151E9D4D6AC} but it's in Dutch, so don't bother unless you read the language.
The gist of this is that some of the infamous Dutch coffee shops, which specialize in pot and hashish preparations, will start making an 'animal friendly' version of a confection known as spacecake. To wit, they will no longer use eggs from oppressed battery chickens, but instead utilize eggs lovingly and calmly extruded by happy chickens that run around freely pecking at worms.
This is great news. I'm sure you're all giddy.
It is also misleading. Most hashish or marijuana confections make use of what is called cannabutter - clarified butter in which the active components (cannabinoids) are dissolved or suspended, by a process of heating the butter with the key ingredient.
[Think of it as ghee for potheads.]
Butter, as you know, comes from cows.
And most cows do not run around happily pecking at worms. Many cows actually have far less light hearted personalities, due to their grim lifestyle and depressive bovine points of view.
Moo.
EIN KEMACH EIN TORAH
Ever since the mailing list went dormant (shortly before the holidays), I have not seen or heard much from Rabbi Jeremy Rosen. So today I browsed into his blog.
Here: http://www.jeremyrosen.com/blog/
One particular post caught my attention. Entitled "Yeshivas and Money", it was in fact precisely what Dovbear (a fellow blogger, here: http://dovbear.blogspot.com/) would seize upon as something that highlights a major blister on the body Talmudic.
Yeshivas And Money:
http://www.jeremyrosen.com/blog/2007/08/yeshivas-and-money_24.html
Rabbi Rosen first details the precarious financial state of yeshivos back in the fifties and sixties, when he was still talmid. In that day, qualified and able students were accepted, and allowances were made for those lacking funds. Many yeshivos at that time were "run down", and conditions were primitive.
He contrast that with the modern day, when several of the more well-known yeshivos are drenched in shekalim. Awash in moolah. It is a striking contrast.
Quote:
"Thanks to the power of political parties, yeshivas in Israel nowadays get all kinds of subsidies, capitations, and building grants. Yeshivas are flourishing and expanding exponentially, both in numbers and facilities..."
Then follows the bomb-shell. Yeshivos engage in extortion.
Quote:
"... methods that, alas, are commonplace in American high schools, particularly in New York, are now transferring to Israel. Only a large donation up front will often get your child in to your place of first choice. "
And:
"Almost all yeshivas are family businesses in which birth usually plays a greater part in promotion than scholarship....
Now for the clincher:
"I bet the guilty parties will be praying away with fake piety during Yom Kippur as if their hands and souls were clean."
He's right, you know. Not everybody pretending piety truly embodies it. Some people have made their pretence quite profitable. You yourself, dear reader, can probably name quite a few such.
Today, Hosanna Rabah, is the last day on which one can be inscribed for good for the coming year. It is also the end of the introspection which customarily accompanies this time.
It is not a good time to point fingers.
Not yet.
Generally speaking, however, I'm actually not at all sure there is ever a bad time.
----------------------------------------------------------
NOTE:
Rabbi Jeremy Rosen is the oldest son of Rabbi Kopul Rosen, and the brother of Rabbi Michael Rosen and Rabbi David Rosen. In addition to having been a pulpit rabbi, Jeremy Rosen is the director of Yakar in London, and professor of comparative religion in Antwerp. He is also the author of several books.
Rabbi Rosen can be found here: http://www.jeremyrosen.com/
Browse through his blog. You'll be glad you did.
Here: http://www.jeremyrosen.com/blog/
One particular post caught my attention. Entitled "Yeshivas and Money", it was in fact precisely what Dovbear (a fellow blogger, here: http://dovbear.blogspot.com/) would seize upon as something that highlights a major blister on the body Talmudic.
Yeshivas And Money:
http://www.jeremyrosen.com/blog/2007/08/yeshivas-and-money_24.html
Rabbi Rosen first details the precarious financial state of yeshivos back in the fifties and sixties, when he was still talmid. In that day, qualified and able students were accepted, and allowances were made for those lacking funds. Many yeshivos at that time were "run down", and conditions were primitive.
He contrast that with the modern day, when several of the more well-known yeshivos are drenched in shekalim. Awash in moolah. It is a striking contrast.
Quote:
"Thanks to the power of political parties, yeshivas in Israel nowadays get all kinds of subsidies, capitations, and building grants. Yeshivas are flourishing and expanding exponentially, both in numbers and facilities..."
Then follows the bomb-shell. Yeshivos engage in extortion.
Quote:
"... methods that, alas, are commonplace in American high schools, particularly in New York, are now transferring to Israel. Only a large donation up front will often get your child in to your place of first choice. "
And:
"Almost all yeshivas are family businesses in which birth usually plays a greater part in promotion than scholarship....
---[CUT]---
...it is one thing to ask for funds. It is another to reject a student, regardless of how good or studious he is, simply as a bargaining tool of pressure."Now for the clincher:
"I bet the guilty parties will be praying away with fake piety during Yom Kippur as if their hands and souls were clean."
He's right, you know. Not everybody pretending piety truly embodies it. Some people have made their pretence quite profitable. You yourself, dear reader, can probably name quite a few such.
Today, Hosanna Rabah, is the last day on which one can be inscribed for good for the coming year. It is also the end of the introspection which customarily accompanies this time.
It is not a good time to point fingers.
Not yet.
Generally speaking, however, I'm actually not at all sure there is ever a bad time.
----------------------------------------------------------
NOTE:
Rabbi Jeremy Rosen is the oldest son of Rabbi Kopul Rosen, and the brother of Rabbi Michael Rosen and Rabbi David Rosen. In addition to having been a pulpit rabbi, Jeremy Rosen is the director of Yakar in London, and professor of comparative religion in Antwerp. He is also the author of several books.
Rabbi Rosen can be found here: http://www.jeremyrosen.com/
Browse through his blog. You'll be glad you did.
Tuesday, October 02, 2007
HOW TO TALK TO A TEENAGER
For the benefit of my readers, I present below Lesson One in "how to talk to a teenager".
Imagine, if you will, that you are calling a store about a past-due invoice. You hope that Bob, the owner, will pick up - instead you get Amber, his thirteen year old employee / daughter / neighbor's kid / secret love interest.
You: "Hi, can I speak to Bob?"
Amber: "He ain't in."
You: "Can you take a message?"
Amber: "Can I take a message?"
You: "Yes, can you?"
Amber: "What?"
You: "Take a message?"
Amber: "What?"
You: "With whom am I speaking?"
Amber: "What?"
You: "Hello, Miss Watt, can you take a message for Bob?"
Amber: "What?"
You can see that this conversation is slowly, excrutiatingly, going nowhere. And unlike Bob, who at least may derive some visual pleasure from Amber's dull-witted company, you are just becoming more and more irritated. You now have a headache.
You're first mistake was asking for Bob. Instead, you should've said that you needed to speak to someone about a past-due bill. Amber's parents are probably residents of the local trailer park, judging by the inherited intelligence of their daughter, and the words 'past-due bill' consequently resonate in her tiny little brain as strongly as the phrases "best friend forever", "eeew!!!!", and "uh-huh".
So, what you should learn from this is, be blunt. There is no point in engaging a mind permanently occupied with chewing bubble gum.
It is an unfortunate fact that many retail establishments will hire people who are sub-qualified but of non-threatening appearance. Especially if they are related to the owner, or the owner's teenage daughter. What this means is that there are a massive number of unexceptional juvenile low-brows in the work-force, with unstressed and unexercised minds, for whom words like pencil, fax machine, invoice, way bill, packing slip, invoice, accounting, message, invoice, and take that gum out of your mouth you stupid cow are incomprehensible, too difficult to spell, and virtually a different language.
Fortunately I am a tolerant and saintly person, and I know how to deal with them.
At previous jobs I did not have to speak to teenagers. But here it is the one constant of my day, at which I have become frighteningly good.
Imagine, if you will, that you are calling a store about a past-due invoice. You hope that Bob, the owner, will pick up - instead you get Amber, his thirteen year old employee / daughter / neighbor's kid / secret love interest.
You: "Hi, can I speak to Bob?"
Amber: "He ain't in."
You: "Can you take a message?"
Amber: "Can I take a message?"
You: "Yes, can you?"
Amber: "What?"
You: "Take a message?"
Amber: "What?"
You: "With whom am I speaking?"
Amber: "What?"
You: "Hello, Miss Watt, can you take a message for Bob?"
Amber: "What?"
You can see that this conversation is slowly, excrutiatingly, going nowhere. And unlike Bob, who at least may derive some visual pleasure from Amber's dull-witted company, you are just becoming more and more irritated. You now have a headache.
You're first mistake was asking for Bob. Instead, you should've said that you needed to speak to someone about a past-due bill. Amber's parents are probably residents of the local trailer park, judging by the inherited intelligence of their daughter, and the words 'past-due bill' consequently resonate in her tiny little brain as strongly as the phrases "best friend forever", "eeew!!!!", and "uh-huh".
So, what you should learn from this is, be blunt. There is no point in engaging a mind permanently occupied with chewing bubble gum.
It is an unfortunate fact that many retail establishments will hire people who are sub-qualified but of non-threatening appearance. Especially if they are related to the owner, or the owner's teenage daughter. What this means is that there are a massive number of unexceptional juvenile low-brows in the work-force, with unstressed and unexercised minds, for whom words like pencil, fax machine, invoice, way bill, packing slip, invoice, accounting, message, invoice, and take that gum out of your mouth you stupid cow are incomprehensible, too difficult to spell, and virtually a different language.
Fortunately I am a tolerant and saintly person, and I know how to deal with them.
At previous jobs I did not have to speak to teenagers. But here it is the one constant of my day, at which I have become frighteningly good.
VAST INTERNATIONAL ZIONIST CONSPIRACY
As many of my readers know, I am a member of VIZC-BAC.
[VIZC-BAC: Vast International Zionist Conspiracy, Bay Area Chapter. This is my affectionate nickname for our little group of pro-Israel activists here in Northern California. We are the answer to "how many people can you stuff into a small van?"]
We've been discussing our upcoming counter-demonstration to yet another anti-Semitic ultra-left manifestation, and someone suggested that, seeing as it will be so close to Halloween, we should go in costume as ghouls and witches. Someone else then suggested that we should dress up as clowns, and walk WITH the enemy, instead of opposing them.
Here's a phrase I never though I would ever have to use:
CLOWNS MAY BE TOO SUBTLE!
A group of clowns at a political rally might merely be seen as typical Bay Area zaniness. We are known for that.
The general public would not understand, and would probably say something like "oh look, they must be code pink!".
A long time ago someone mentioned that "Pro-Israel Pro-Peace" signs and giant Israeli flags were too subtle also.
[This is, after all, the Bay Area. We are not on the same planet as everyone else. My sign from a while back saying "Hamas must be destroyed" is "too divisive and hurtful", and giant Israeli flags are "too subtle". Here in the Bay Area.]
Subtlety just ain't what it used to be.
[Go figger.]
On a somewhat related note: One of my friends had to dive for cover with his kids because of Palestinian gunfire today at the Meuras ha Machpela. But of course that may have been what is called "valid political discourse". Or "part of the ongoing peace negotiation". Altogether a point and a message which are both far too subtle for me to grasp, alas.
I am not a very subtle person. It's an immense handicap.
[VIZC-BAC: Vast International Zionist Conspiracy, Bay Area Chapter. This is my affectionate nickname for our little group of pro-Israel activists here in Northern California. We are the answer to "how many people can you stuff into a small van?"]
We've been discussing our upcoming counter-demonstration to yet another anti-Semitic ultra-left manifestation, and someone suggested that, seeing as it will be so close to Halloween, we should go in costume as ghouls and witches. Someone else then suggested that we should dress up as clowns, and walk WITH the enemy, instead of opposing them.
Here's a phrase I never though I would ever have to use:
CLOWNS MAY BE TOO SUBTLE!
A group of clowns at a political rally might merely be seen as typical Bay Area zaniness. We are known for that.
The general public would not understand, and would probably say something like "oh look, they must be code pink!".
A long time ago someone mentioned that "Pro-Israel Pro-Peace" signs and giant Israeli flags were too subtle also.
[This is, after all, the Bay Area. We are not on the same planet as everyone else. My sign from a while back saying "Hamas must be destroyed" is "too divisive and hurtful", and giant Israeli flags are "too subtle". Here in the Bay Area.]
Subtlety just ain't what it used to be.
[Go figger.]
On a somewhat related note: One of my friends had to dive for cover with his kids because of Palestinian gunfire today at the Meuras ha Machpela. But of course that may have been what is called "valid political discourse". Or "part of the ongoing peace negotiation". Altogether a point and a message which are both far too subtle for me to grasp, alas.
I am not a very subtle person. It's an immense handicap.
Monday, October 01, 2007
FULLY CLOTHED DINNER
I recently cruised into 'The Clochard Times', a blog which I visit every two or three months. I would visit more often, but the author of that blog actually has a life, and is much more in touch with the grim endeavor of living in the real world than I am, and in consequence does not write nearly as much as I do.
But he does update, and he adds much to the discourse.
[This blog: http://clochardtimes.blogspot.com/ This post: http://clochardtimes.blogspot.com/2007/09/de-democratische-volksrepubliek.html ]
The author, Habib Ben Achim Marwan, posts an article which seems to suggest that since wars always seem to start in the morning, it was the drinking and dancing the night before that should probably be banned.
Related thereto he mentions the sexual thrills experienced by both Angelina Jolie and Madonna, allegedly caused by adoption. The author of this blog was already familiar with orgasm without resultant pregnancy -- Habib Ben Achim Marwan shows that moto-babes Jolie and Esther have taken the "A without B" concept many steps further.
He then suggests that famous people should all be given an entire country to adopt. He quotes Paris Hilton, who is as good an example as any that the constant overwhelming celebrity quiver-thrill-gasp of adopting an entire country would be good for the world - she would be too busy writhing with pleasure to hit the frontpage, we would never have to hear about the bitch again, and some place like Sukambambo would finally, finally (!) end up with all the food, medicine, education, infrastructure, cheap sexual attention, and imported plastic consumer goods that the residents have desperately wished for all of their lives. Orgasmic for everyone concerned.
Then follows a recipe for fillets of Bonobo in Ardenoise fruit compote.
After which the names of a number of Belgian celebritities are mentioned. Either in connection with the fabulous bush-meat recipe (Fillets de Bonobo a la Marie-Rose Morel), or as candidates for both nation-adopting and as possible co-stars in a snuf-film involving Paris Hilton.
Let me cite a particularly good passage:
"Als je op een hippe cocktailparty voldoende cocaïne gesnoven hebt, zou je in staat moeten zijn om de nieuwe leider van Congwanda te zien. Een 5 meter grote robot met een snor die enkel binair kan communiceren en die constant criminelen en ander uitschot in actieve vulkanen smijt."
['Once you've snarfed enough cocaine at a hip cocktail party, you should be able to see the new leader of Congwanda. A fifteen foot tall robot with a mustache, who is only capable of communicating binarily, and constantly tosses criminals and other scumbuckets into active volcanos.']
I am much taken with this image.
I would recommend that you go to his site to read the entire article, but alas, you probably do not read Flemish, and his entire hyperbolous metaphor of the current political crisis in Belgium would escape you.
But he does update, and he adds much to the discourse.
[This blog: http://clochardtimes.blogspot.com/ This post: http://clochardtimes.blogspot.com/2007/09/de-democratische-volksrepubliek.html ]
The author, Habib Ben Achim Marwan, posts an article which seems to suggest that since wars always seem to start in the morning, it was the drinking and dancing the night before that should probably be banned.
Related thereto he mentions the sexual thrills experienced by both Angelina Jolie and Madonna, allegedly caused by adoption. The author of this blog was already familiar with orgasm without resultant pregnancy -- Habib Ben Achim Marwan shows that moto-babes Jolie and Esther have taken the "A without B" concept many steps further.
He then suggests that famous people should all be given an entire country to adopt. He quotes Paris Hilton, who is as good an example as any that the constant overwhelming celebrity quiver-thrill-gasp of adopting an entire country would be good for the world - she would be too busy writhing with pleasure to hit the frontpage, we would never have to hear about the bitch again, and some place like Sukambambo would finally, finally (!) end up with all the food, medicine, education, infrastructure, cheap sexual attention, and imported plastic consumer goods that the residents have desperately wished for all of their lives. Orgasmic for everyone concerned.
Then follows a recipe for fillets of Bonobo in Ardenoise fruit compote.
After which the names of a number of Belgian celebritities are mentioned. Either in connection with the fabulous bush-meat recipe (Fillets de Bonobo a la Marie-Rose Morel), or as candidates for both nation-adopting and as possible co-stars in a snuf-film involving Paris Hilton.
Let me cite a particularly good passage:
"Als je op een hippe cocktailparty voldoende cocaïne gesnoven hebt, zou je in staat moeten zijn om de nieuwe leider van Congwanda te zien. Een 5 meter grote robot met een snor die enkel binair kan communiceren en die constant criminelen en ander uitschot in actieve vulkanen smijt."
['Once you've snarfed enough cocaine at a hip cocktail party, you should be able to see the new leader of Congwanda. A fifteen foot tall robot with a mustache, who is only capable of communicating binarily, and constantly tosses criminals and other scumbuckets into active volcanos.']
I am much taken with this image.
I would recommend that you go to his site to read the entire article, but alas, you probably do not read Flemish, and his entire hyperbolous metaphor of the current political crisis in Belgium would escape you.
Friday, September 28, 2007
VIRTUAL SUKKAH
Imagine that you are a new visitor to this blog. You have never been here before, and you just wandered in.
You probably did so because many of your favourite blogs are somewhat quiet right now, it being Sukkos, and the bloggers being preoccupied.
According to the Zohar, when a person is sitting in his sukkah, Avrohom and six noble guests (Yitzchok, Ya'akov, Yosef, Moshe, A'aron, and Dovid) keep him company. Seven ushpizin. One for each night. So please, take a seat. Stay for a while. With the other bloggers not posting anything, my blog may be the only game in town.
I wish I could offer you something to eat...... Some pomegranate, dates, figs, or olives. But unfortunately you are probably not reading this in your own sukkah.
Unless you have a laptop. If that is the case, and you actually ARE inside a sukkah, you can recite "Boruch Attah Adonoi, Eloheinu melech ha-olam, asher kidshanu b' mitzvosav ve tsivanu leishev ba sukkah", while I sit here imagining that I can hear it, or let my mind wander through some of the scenes from the movie Ushpizin - please visualize my reposing in respectful silence while you make brocho.
In lieu of my actually saying anything new and exciting about sukkos today, I would direct you to three posts from last year.
Al Netilas Lulav
http://atthebackofthehill.blogspot.com/2006/10/al-netilas-lulav.html
["A brief listing of things, which if you had not seen them before at this time of year, might baffle you. Such as waving palm-fronds and what looks like a lemon...."]
Shake Your Shrubbery
http://atthebackofthehill.blogspot.com/2006/08/shake-your-shrubbery.html
["...because it is absolutely nowhere near Sukkos, I decided to refresh your collective memories ..."]
Ushpizin
http://atthebackofthehill.blogspot.com/2005/11/ushpizin.html
["Exactly two weeks ago, in an e-mail to Tri-national Rabbi, I said "I think I'll stay away from the movie. The ads make it sound like 'Walt Disney Does Jews', for the family channel." A day later my friend the BookSeller gave me a free-pass to an advance screening at the Embarcadero Cinemas. So of course I went."]
In any case, chag sameach, and a gitte shabbes.
And see you here again next week, I hope.
You probably did so because many of your favourite blogs are somewhat quiet right now, it being Sukkos, and the bloggers being preoccupied.
According to the Zohar, when a person is sitting in his sukkah, Avrohom and six noble guests (Yitzchok, Ya'akov, Yosef, Moshe, A'aron, and Dovid) keep him company. Seven ushpizin. One for each night. So please, take a seat. Stay for a while. With the other bloggers not posting anything, my blog may be the only game in town.
I wish I could offer you something to eat...... Some pomegranate, dates, figs, or olives. But unfortunately you are probably not reading this in your own sukkah.
Unless you have a laptop. If that is the case, and you actually ARE inside a sukkah, you can recite "Boruch Attah Adonoi, Eloheinu melech ha-olam, asher kidshanu b' mitzvosav ve tsivanu leishev ba sukkah", while I sit here imagining that I can hear it, or let my mind wander through some of the scenes from the movie Ushpizin - please visualize my reposing in respectful silence while you make brocho.
In lieu of my actually saying anything new and exciting about sukkos today, I would direct you to three posts from last year.
Al Netilas Lulav
http://atthebackofthehill.blogspot.com/2006/10/al-netilas-lulav.html
["A brief listing of things, which if you had not seen them before at this time of year, might baffle you. Such as waving palm-fronds and what looks like a lemon...."]
Shake Your Shrubbery
http://atthebackofthehill.blogspot.com/2006/08/shake-your-shrubbery.html
["...because it is absolutely nowhere near Sukkos, I decided to refresh your collective memories ..."]
Ushpizin
http://atthebackofthehill.blogspot.com/2005/11/ushpizin.html
["Exactly two weeks ago, in an e-mail to Tri-national Rabbi, I said "I think I'll stay away from the movie. The ads make it sound like 'Walt Disney Does Jews', for the family channel." A day later my friend the BookSeller gave me a free-pass to an advance screening at the Embarcadero Cinemas. So of course I went."]
In any case, chag sameach, and a gitte shabbes.
And see you here again next week, I hope.
Thursday, September 27, 2007
JEWISH CALENDAR FOR 5768
It struck me that you might need an updated calendar for this year. Especially if you are not Jewish. But even if you are, you may think that the calendar you currently work with is somewhat confusing....... Yawm Ha Mawlad Yushka seems to fall on a different day of Teves (or Kislev) every year, and the Gentile festival of eggs sometimes seems to overlap Peysach, sometimes not. It is all very strange.
So, for the benefit of MOT and Nation alike, here's the Calendar for the coming twelve months.
JEWISH CALENDAR FOR THE YEAR 5768 (2007 - 2008)
09/13/07 New year: Rosh HaShanah. 13 September 2007 (Thursday).
09/16/07 Fast of Gedalia: Tzom Gdalya. 16 September (Sunday).
09/22/07 Day of Attonement: Yom Kippur. 22 September 2007 (Saturday).
09/27/07 Festival of Booths: Sukkos. 27 September 2007 (Thursday) through 4 October 2007 (Thursday).
10/03/07 Great Rejoicing: Hosanna Raba. 3 October (Wednesday).
10/04/07 Conclusion of the period of the New Year and the festival of booths: Shemini Atzeres. 4 October 2007 (Thursday).
10/05/07 Rejoicing with the Torah: Simchas Torah. 5 October 2007 (Friday).
10/05/07 End of the festival of booths. Isru Chag.
Note: because the end of Sukkos coincides with the Sabbath, Simchas Torah and Isru Chag move up one.
10/13/07 Natal day of a blogger. 13 October 2007 (Saturday).
11/23/07 Second day of Thanksgiving: Roast Duck Day. 23 November 2007 (Friday).
12/05/07 Festival of lights (marking the rededication of the Temple): Chanukah. 5 December 2007 (Wednesday) through 12 December 2007 (Wednesday).
12/05/07 Sinterklaas Avond: Saint Nicholas Eve: Dutch gift-giving day for the little screamers: gifts if good, coal and a whupping if bad. 5 December 2007 (Wednesday).
12/06/07 Sinterklaas: Saint Nicholas Day: Marzipan or misery (see above). 6 December 2007 (Thursday).
12/19/07 Fasting day marking the siege of Jerusalem by the Babylonians; Asarah b'teves: tenth day of Teves. 19 December (Wednesday).
01/22/08 New Year of the trees: Tu Bishvas. 22 January 2008 (Tuesday).
01/31/08 Beginning of Carneval: Prince Carneval starts visiting all the bars in town to drink from the ceremonial beer vessel, which holds at least a litre. There are three hundred or more bars in town. Carneval lasts five more days. 31 January 2008 (Thursday).
02/05/08 Last day of Carneval: The totemic giant statues in the centre of town have probably been torched by the local yobbos by now, unless the police have found a safe place to hide them. But don't worry - we'll find out where they are, and they will burn. Prince Carneval has probably had his stomach pumped five times by now; a few more hours won't hurt him. 5 February 2008 (Tuesday).
02/06/08 Communal Depression. 6 February 2008 (Wednesday).
02/07/08 Chinese New Year / Tet. 7 February 2008 (Thursday).
03/14/07 Beginning of Irish Day of Accomplishments. 14 March 2008 (Friday).
03/15/07 Second Day of Irish Day of Accomplishments. 15 March 2008 (Saturday).
03/16/08 Third day of Irish Day of Accomplishments. 16 March 2008 (Sunday).
03/17/08 Last Day of Irish Day of Accomplishments. 17 March 2008 (Monday).
03/18/08 Irish Influenza Day. 18 March 2008 (Tuesday).
03/20/07 Ta'anis Esther: Fast of Esther. 20 March 2008. (Thursday).
03/21/08 Feast of Lots: Purim. 21 March 2008 (Friday). Drink and party.
03/23/08 Second day of Purim, in Israel only: Shushan Purim. 23 March (Sunday).
04/20/08 Passover; Pesach: 20 April 2008 (Sunday) through 27 April (Sunday).
05/02/08 Holocaust Remembrance Day (Yom HaShoah). 2 May 2008 (Friday).
05/04/08 Wreath Day (Dutch). 4 May 2008 (Sunday).
05/05/08 Criticise 2nd. Generation Muslim Immigrants Day (Dutch) / Play Kickball With Wreaths Day (Muslim Immigrants). 5 May 2008 (Monday).
05/06/08 Pontificate About How The Country Is Going To Hell In Handbasket Day (Dutch). 6 May 2008 (Tuesday).
05/07/08 Israel Memorial Day (Yom HaZikaron). 7 May 2008 (Wednesday).
05/07/08 Back to Normal Bellyaching Day (Dutch). 7 May 2008 (Wednesday).
05/08/08 Israel Independence Day (Yom HaAtzmaut). 8 May 2008 (Thursday).
05/23/08 Lag B'Omer: 23 May 2008 (Friday). Bonfire.
06/09/08 Shavuos: 9 June 2008 (Monday). Eat cheesecake.
08/10/08 Fast memorializing several tragedies, especially the destruction of the Temple; Tisha B'Av. 10 August 2008 (Sunday).
For an intro to the Jewish Calendar, see this posting:
http://atthebackofthehill.blogspot.com/2007/04/jewish-calendar.html
Please note that purely for my own convenience I have interpolated a few significant days that are not, strictly speaking, of any Jewish import whatsoever in the list above. They are easy to spot. Feel free to celebrate them anyway.
So, for the benefit of MOT and Nation alike, here's the Calendar for the coming twelve months.
JEWISH CALENDAR FOR THE YEAR 5768 (2007 - 2008)
09/13/07 New year: Rosh HaShanah. 13 September 2007 (Thursday).
09/16/07 Fast of Gedalia: Tzom Gdalya. 16 September (Sunday).
09/22/07 Day of Attonement: Yom Kippur. 22 September 2007 (Saturday).
09/27/07 Festival of Booths: Sukkos. 27 September 2007 (Thursday) through 4 October 2007 (Thursday).
10/03/07 Great Rejoicing: Hosanna Raba. 3 October (Wednesday).
10/04/07 Conclusion of the period of the New Year and the festival of booths: Shemini Atzeres. 4 October 2007 (Thursday).
10/05/07 Rejoicing with the Torah: Simchas Torah. 5 October 2007 (Friday).
10/05/07 End of the festival of booths. Isru Chag.
Note: because the end of Sukkos coincides with the Sabbath, Simchas Torah and Isru Chag move up one.
10/13/07 Natal day of a blogger. 13 October 2007 (Saturday).
11/23/07 Second day of Thanksgiving: Roast Duck Day. 23 November 2007 (Friday).
12/05/07 Festival of lights (marking the rededication of the Temple): Chanukah. 5 December 2007 (Wednesday) through 12 December 2007 (Wednesday).
12/05/07 Sinterklaas Avond: Saint Nicholas Eve: Dutch gift-giving day for the little screamers: gifts if good, coal and a whupping if bad. 5 December 2007 (Wednesday).
12/06/07 Sinterklaas: Saint Nicholas Day: Marzipan or misery (see above). 6 December 2007 (Thursday).
12/19/07 Fasting day marking the siege of Jerusalem by the Babylonians; Asarah b'teves: tenth day of Teves. 19 December (Wednesday).
01/22/08 New Year of the trees: Tu Bishvas. 22 January 2008 (Tuesday).
01/31/08 Beginning of Carneval: Prince Carneval starts visiting all the bars in town to drink from the ceremonial beer vessel, which holds at least a litre. There are three hundred or more bars in town. Carneval lasts five more days. 31 January 2008 (Thursday).
02/05/08 Last day of Carneval: The totemic giant statues in the centre of town have probably been torched by the local yobbos by now, unless the police have found a safe place to hide them. But don't worry - we'll find out where they are, and they will burn. Prince Carneval has probably had his stomach pumped five times by now; a few more hours won't hurt him. 5 February 2008 (Tuesday).
02/06/08 Communal Depression. 6 February 2008 (Wednesday).
02/07/08 Chinese New Year / Tet. 7 February 2008 (Thursday).
03/14/07 Beginning of Irish Day of Accomplishments. 14 March 2008 (Friday).
03/15/07 Second Day of Irish Day of Accomplishments. 15 March 2008 (Saturday).
03/16/08 Third day of Irish Day of Accomplishments. 16 March 2008 (Sunday).
03/17/08 Last Day of Irish Day of Accomplishments. 17 March 2008 (Monday).
03/18/08 Irish Influenza Day. 18 March 2008 (Tuesday).
03/20/07 Ta'anis Esther: Fast of Esther. 20 March 2008. (Thursday).
03/21/08 Feast of Lots: Purim. 21 March 2008 (Friday). Drink and party.
03/23/08 Second day of Purim, in Israel only: Shushan Purim. 23 March (Sunday).
04/20/08 Passover; Pesach: 20 April 2008 (Sunday) through 27 April (Sunday).
05/02/08 Holocaust Remembrance Day (Yom HaShoah). 2 May 2008 (Friday).
05/04/08 Wreath Day (Dutch). 4 May 2008 (Sunday).
05/05/08 Criticise 2nd. Generation Muslim Immigrants Day (Dutch) / Play Kickball With Wreaths Day (Muslim Immigrants). 5 May 2008 (Monday).
05/06/08 Pontificate About How The Country Is Going To Hell In Handbasket Day (Dutch). 6 May 2008 (Tuesday).
05/07/08 Israel Memorial Day (Yom HaZikaron). 7 May 2008 (Wednesday).
05/07/08 Back to Normal Bellyaching Day (Dutch). 7 May 2008 (Wednesday).
05/08/08 Israel Independence Day (Yom HaAtzmaut). 8 May 2008 (Thursday).
05/23/08 Lag B'Omer: 23 May 2008 (Friday). Bonfire.
06/09/08 Shavuos: 9 June 2008 (Monday). Eat cheesecake.
08/10/08 Fast memorializing several tragedies, especially the destruction of the Temple; Tisha B'Av. 10 August 2008 (Sunday).
For an intro to the Jewish Calendar, see this posting:
http://atthebackofthehill.blogspot.com/2007/04/jewish-calendar.html
Please note that purely for my own convenience I have interpolated a few significant days that are not, strictly speaking, of any Jewish import whatsoever in the list above. They are easy to spot. Feel free to celebrate them anyway.
A BILIOUS PERSPECTIVE
Mr. Ahmed Haroun (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ahmed_Haroun )
is the Sudan's State Minister for Humanitarian Affairs. In September 2007, he was appointed to lead an investigation into human rights violations in Darfur. The International Court of Justice in the Hague holds him responsible for a large number of those atrocities.
Like many politicians world-wide, he is a man of dubious morals. And like a fair number, he is an absolute waste of carbon, oxygen, and hydrogen. A blot on the face of humanity, which the civilized world would do well to apprehend, or failing that, excoriate.
But, rather than focusing on vicious goons and deplorable conditions in certain countries, America's European friends would rather redouble their venomous calumnies against us.
Hello? Who and what, you say?
We're by no means as bad as, oh let us say, the Sudan, Somalia, Burma.
Not that being better than those three is anything to boast of, but we're also better than China, Russia, Iran, India, Pakistan, Egypt, Saudi Arabia, Yemen, Libia, Morocco, Algiers, Cuba, Venezuela, Indonesia, Malaysia, Vietnam, Syria, North Korea..........
Yet if you paid attention to the European news media and internetfora, you would think that we are the very worst country in the world. Us, the U.S. The worst of the lot. The be all and end all of cruel and despicable tyrannies.
Last year Hugo Chavez was lionized because he bated the wolf in its own lair, this year the remarkably ignorant and not particularly bright leader of Iran was praised effusively for telling all o' them Jooooos at Columbia how wrong they were. A performance he expanded upon at the United Nations. For which even more praise.
To our " " " " " "friends" " " " " ", Mahmoud Ahmedinejad seems heroic, Herculean - a veritable primordial champion. An avatar of light fighting the force of darkness. The ultimate hobbit. Harry Potter with bells on. Jesus-Mary-and-Josef squared. Mithras and Ahura Mazda combined. Pope John Paul the First.
Unfortunately this new great and glorious paladin cannot see the blemishes on his close pals the Sudanese. Iran and Sudan have an excellent relationship marked by cooperation and collaboration. A relationship that is mutually very beneficial. And incriminating.
Which is just fine according to the good folks of Europe. No problem at all. Because Ahmedinejad is anti-American. And Ahmed Haroun (Sudanese State Minister for Humanitarian Affairs) has a name that is infinitely unpronounceable. Something foreign, don'tcha know.
Just a thought: Do you suppose that if we elect Barack Hussein Obama (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Barack_Obama) the Europeans will finally start to ignore us?
Or, oh happy thought, at least "politely" refrain from speaking about us at all.
is the Sudan's State Minister for Humanitarian Affairs. In September 2007, he was appointed to lead an investigation into human rights violations in Darfur. The International Court of Justice in the Hague holds him responsible for a large number of those atrocities.
Like many politicians world-wide, he is a man of dubious morals. And like a fair number, he is an absolute waste of carbon, oxygen, and hydrogen. A blot on the face of humanity, which the civilized world would do well to apprehend, or failing that, excoriate.
But, rather than focusing on vicious goons and deplorable conditions in certain countries, America's European friends would rather redouble their venomous calumnies against us.
Hello? Who and what, you say?
We're by no means as bad as, oh let us say, the Sudan, Somalia, Burma.
Not that being better than those three is anything to boast of, but we're also better than China, Russia, Iran, India, Pakistan, Egypt, Saudi Arabia, Yemen, Libia, Morocco, Algiers, Cuba, Venezuela, Indonesia, Malaysia, Vietnam, Syria, North Korea..........
Yet if you paid attention to the European news media and internetfora, you would think that we are the very worst country in the world. Us, the U.S. The worst of the lot. The be all and end all of cruel and despicable tyrannies.
Last year Hugo Chavez was lionized because he bated the wolf in its own lair, this year the remarkably ignorant and not particularly bright leader of Iran was praised effusively for telling all o' them Jooooos at Columbia how wrong they were. A performance he expanded upon at the United Nations. For which even more praise.
To our " " " " " "friends" " " " " ", Mahmoud Ahmedinejad seems heroic, Herculean - a veritable primordial champion. An avatar of light fighting the force of darkness. The ultimate hobbit. Harry Potter with bells on. Jesus-Mary-and-Josef squared. Mithras and Ahura Mazda combined. Pope John Paul the First.
Unfortunately this new great and glorious paladin cannot see the blemishes on his close pals the Sudanese. Iran and Sudan have an excellent relationship marked by cooperation and collaboration. A relationship that is mutually very beneficial. And incriminating.
Which is just fine according to the good folks of Europe. No problem at all. Because Ahmedinejad is anti-American. And Ahmed Haroun (Sudanese State Minister for Humanitarian Affairs) has a name that is infinitely unpronounceable. Something foreign, don'tcha know.
Just a thought: Do you suppose that if we elect Barack Hussein Obama (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Barack_Obama) the Europeans will finally start to ignore us?
Or, oh happy thought, at least "politely" refrain from speaking about us at all.
Wednesday, September 26, 2007
LITTLE BROWN NOTEBOOK
One of the things I always have with me is my little brown notebook. To some people, it serves as the perfect illustration of either my peculiarities (non-existent, I assure you), or my high degree of neurosis (equally non-existent - I really have to stop associating with people who recognize imaginary psychological conditions).
What is it about the notebook that excites their delusion?
I have no clue.
It is a perfectly normal thing.....
The first page has the opening invocation for shadow-plays, recited while the audience comes together and the gamelan players stroke the starting rhythms, the last page has, of course, the closing invocation (exvocation?), which returns the numinous-powers to their proper places and reseals the boundaries.
[Indonesian shadow-plays are in many ways exorcistic and ritualistic reframings of the mundane world, and it seems appropriate to begin and end the notebook in that fashion. Even though I replace the notebook when it fills up, I prepare the new notebook with the same opening and closing texts before adding aught else.]
For the rest, the notebook is fairly simple and entirely unsurprising. From front to back, vocabulary notes for Tamarao (an Indonesian regional language), entries in capitals, explanation in cursive. From back to front, phone numbers, addresses, key recipes, miscellaneous notes and inventory lists for my pipe-tobacco stockpile. I gradually add material to both the front and the back entries - After several months the blank pages in between narrow down to only a few unwritten leaves near the middle, whereupon I prepare a new notebook to take its place.
A sampling from the current notebook:
[Page 26]
TUNGKAWAN = Fortified multi-level agricultural storehouse.
TUMPAK, TUMPAROK = Stylized lightening bolt motif used in jewelry.
SAHUI = Ritual guest group or secondary ethnicity whose societal presence serves as guarantor or fair witness.
DJAMBO-DWIPA = The Rose-Apple (djambu) Island (dwipa); Sanskritic term for the Eurasian landmass. Note that djambo also means tuft or tassel (djambo-tumendjok = decorative turban tuft).
SAMPI = Volunteer. Self-sacrificiant. Not to be confused with 'sampe'.
SAMPAHI, SAMPAI, SAMPE = Until. Upon meeting. Next.
Etcetera.
As you can tell, it is not alphabetic. Entries grow as I remember words, or something reminds me of a locution. It is a record of recollected word-glitterings.
The recipes near the back are far less haphazarded.
Here are two, which by themselves neatly nearly define the Dutch East Indies taste.
SARUNDENG KADJO
[Toasted coconut shred condiment]
One cup shredded coconut.
Half cup cashews.
Half teaspoon each: ground coriander, ground cumin, turmeric, sugar, salt.
Quarter teaspoon each: cinnamon powder, dry ginger.
Pinch: mace, cayenne.
Half tablespoon each: Louisiana hot sauce, lime juice.
Dash of hot water.
Whisk all flavourings till sugar and salt dissolve. Toss everything together to coat, let stand for an hour. Toast, spread out on a tray, for one and a half to two hours at 225 degrees Fahrenheit. It will be brown and crispy at this point. Can be kept in a jar with a screw-top lid for up to four or five weeks - but you will have eaten it before then.
This is used as a textural side-dish, adding crunch to curries and stews. It can also be eaten plain, or strewn over rice. Unlike the standard version, which you are probably used to, it contains no fish-paste, and no huge amount of palm-sugar (Javanese like much more sweetness than is strictly normal).
I have substituted cashews for peanuts - some people are allergic to peanuts.
KETJAP MANIS
[Sweet soy-sauce]
Half cup each: sugar (white, or white and dark mixed), Kikkoman soy sauce.
Two tablespoons each: sherry, dark vinegar.
One teaspoon salt.
One whole star anise, one or two slices of ginger, and a clove or two.
Put everything except the vinegar and half of the soy sauce into a saucepan. Heat gently, stirring, till the sugar is fully dissolved and the liquid syrupy and starting to foam. Stir in the remaining soy sauce and in a minute or so turn off the heat. Let it cool and strain it into a bottle. Use the dark vinegar to swish the remaining syrup coating the inside of the saucepan, and add to the bottle.
This is as close to typical Dutch and Indonesian sweet soy sauce as you can get, and far better than most brands. Plus you know exactly what is in it.
We use it in any number of dishes, but it is also good drizzled over roasted meats such as saté or little grilled lamb chops. Try it on your fried eggs.
These two preparations, along with at least one jar of chili-paste, can be found in countless Dutch kitchens world-wide. Their uses are legion.
----------------------------------
LINGUISTIC NOTES:
Sarundeng (Dutch spelling: seroendeng) is based on the root 'unde', which applies to substances with a coconut meat base or a strong coconut taste. Such as undé undé - a sweet sticky shreddy compound used to fill sweet dumplings or little crepes. The praefix sa/sa(r/l/g) indicates that the substance is entirely identified with the meaning of the root word, the 'ng' ending makes it an independent noun.
Ketjap is the same word as ketchup. But not the same substance. In both Hokkien and Cantonese 'keh-tshap' (茄汁) indicates a tomato juice preparation or compound. Keh is short for 'fan keh' (蕃茄 - Barbarian eggplant, hence tomato), tshap (汁 - chup, tseap) means juice or expressed liquid. By pulping and condensing tomatoes with some vinegar (醋 - tchew) and salt (鹽 - yin) one achieved a flavour -additive that kept on sea voyages and was pretty good with fish. In Malaya, the settled Chinese eventually replaced the vinegar with soy sauce (a natural development, given that there were already so many sour flavourings commonly used locally), and ended up omitting the tomatoes altogether. Ketjap at that point simply meant a flavoured compound sauce (such as mushroom flavoured soy sauce, shellfish flavoured soy sauce, gingered soy sauce, etc.) similar to 'condensed sauce' (滷 汁 - lutjap; rice wine, spices, and soy sauce, simmered down), and eventually came to mean soy sauce itself - the basis of flavoured cooking sauces. The postfix 'manis' means sweet. Regular unsweetened soy sauce is ketjap asin - salty soy sauce.
What is it about the notebook that excites their delusion?
I have no clue.
It is a perfectly normal thing.....
The first page has the opening invocation for shadow-plays, recited while the audience comes together and the gamelan players stroke the starting rhythms, the last page has, of course, the closing invocation (exvocation?), which returns the numinous-powers to their proper places and reseals the boundaries.
[Indonesian shadow-plays are in many ways exorcistic and ritualistic reframings of the mundane world, and it seems appropriate to begin and end the notebook in that fashion. Even though I replace the notebook when it fills up, I prepare the new notebook with the same opening and closing texts before adding aught else.]
For the rest, the notebook is fairly simple and entirely unsurprising. From front to back, vocabulary notes for Tamarao (an Indonesian regional language), entries in capitals, explanation in cursive. From back to front, phone numbers, addresses, key recipes, miscellaneous notes and inventory lists for my pipe-tobacco stockpile. I gradually add material to both the front and the back entries - After several months the blank pages in between narrow down to only a few unwritten leaves near the middle, whereupon I prepare a new notebook to take its place.
A sampling from the current notebook:
[Page 26]
TUNGKAWAN = Fortified multi-level agricultural storehouse.
TUMPAK, TUMPAROK = Stylized lightening bolt motif used in jewelry.
SAHUI = Ritual guest group or secondary ethnicity whose societal presence serves as guarantor or fair witness.
DJAMBO-DWIPA = The Rose-Apple (djambu) Island (dwipa); Sanskritic term for the Eurasian landmass. Note that djambo also means tuft or tassel (djambo-tumendjok = decorative turban tuft).
SAMPI = Volunteer. Self-sacrificiant. Not to be confused with 'sampe'.
SAMPAHI, SAMPAI, SAMPE = Until. Upon meeting. Next.
Etcetera.
As you can tell, it is not alphabetic. Entries grow as I remember words, or something reminds me of a locution. It is a record of recollected word-glitterings.
The recipes near the back are far less haphazarded.
Here are two, which by themselves neatly nearly define the Dutch East Indies taste.
SARUNDENG KADJO
[Toasted coconut shred condiment]
One cup shredded coconut.
Half cup cashews.
Half teaspoon each: ground coriander, ground cumin, turmeric, sugar, salt.
Quarter teaspoon each: cinnamon powder, dry ginger.
Pinch: mace, cayenne.
Half tablespoon each: Louisiana hot sauce, lime juice.
Dash of hot water.
Whisk all flavourings till sugar and salt dissolve. Toss everything together to coat, let stand for an hour. Toast, spread out on a tray, for one and a half to two hours at 225 degrees Fahrenheit. It will be brown and crispy at this point. Can be kept in a jar with a screw-top lid for up to four or five weeks - but you will have eaten it before then.
This is used as a textural side-dish, adding crunch to curries and stews. It can also be eaten plain, or strewn over rice. Unlike the standard version, which you are probably used to, it contains no fish-paste, and no huge amount of palm-sugar (Javanese like much more sweetness than is strictly normal).
I have substituted cashews for peanuts - some people are allergic to peanuts.
KETJAP MANIS
[Sweet soy-sauce]
Half cup each: sugar (white, or white and dark mixed), Kikkoman soy sauce.
Two tablespoons each: sherry, dark vinegar.
One teaspoon salt.
One whole star anise, one or two slices of ginger, and a clove or two.
Put everything except the vinegar and half of the soy sauce into a saucepan. Heat gently, stirring, till the sugar is fully dissolved and the liquid syrupy and starting to foam. Stir in the remaining soy sauce and in a minute or so turn off the heat. Let it cool and strain it into a bottle. Use the dark vinegar to swish the remaining syrup coating the inside of the saucepan, and add to the bottle.
This is as close to typical Dutch and Indonesian sweet soy sauce as you can get, and far better than most brands. Plus you know exactly what is in it.
We use it in any number of dishes, but it is also good drizzled over roasted meats such as saté or little grilled lamb chops. Try it on your fried eggs.
These two preparations, along with at least one jar of chili-paste, can be found in countless Dutch kitchens world-wide. Their uses are legion.
----------------------------------
LINGUISTIC NOTES:
Sarundeng (Dutch spelling: seroendeng) is based on the root 'unde', which applies to substances with a coconut meat base or a strong coconut taste. Such as undé undé - a sweet sticky shreddy compound used to fill sweet dumplings or little crepes. The praefix sa/sa(r/l/g) indicates that the substance is entirely identified with the meaning of the root word, the 'ng' ending makes it an independent noun.
Ketjap is the same word as ketchup. But not the same substance. In both Hokkien and Cantonese 'keh-tshap' (茄汁) indicates a tomato juice preparation or compound. Keh is short for 'fan keh' (蕃茄 - Barbarian eggplant, hence tomato), tshap (汁 - chup, tseap) means juice or expressed liquid. By pulping and condensing tomatoes with some vinegar (醋 - tchew) and salt (鹽 - yin) one achieved a flavour -additive that kept on sea voyages and was pretty good with fish. In Malaya, the settled Chinese eventually replaced the vinegar with soy sauce (a natural development, given that there were already so many sour flavourings commonly used locally), and ended up omitting the tomatoes altogether. Ketjap at that point simply meant a flavoured compound sauce (such as mushroom flavoured soy sauce, shellfish flavoured soy sauce, gingered soy sauce, etc.) similar to 'condensed sauce' (滷 汁 - lutjap; rice wine, spices, and soy sauce, simmered down), and eventually came to mean soy sauce itself - the basis of flavoured cooking sauces. The postfix 'manis' means sweet. Regular unsweetened soy sauce is ketjap asin - salty soy sauce.
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
PROTEST AT COLUMBIA
The blog posting of a friend in New York:
http://boroparkpyro.blogspot.com/2007/09/ahmadinejad-at-columbia-dot-protest.html
My Syrian taxi-driver this morning said that the only people who showed up were the Jooos, and the collaborationist Persians who fled to the US in the eighties (he heard it on Al Jazeera).
For those of you in the Netherlands, especially if you stemmed SP or PvdA, please do not click on the link; there are far too many Jews there for you guys to feel comfortable. Besides, you folks disapprove so horribly of everything American that you would probably vote for Ahmedinejad, and sell your own daughters into whoredom to fund him.
With fond regards,
-----B.O.T.H.
http://boroparkpyro.blogspot.com/2007/09/ahmadinejad-at-columbia-dot-protest.html
My Syrian taxi-driver this morning said that the only people who showed up were the Jooos, and the collaborationist Persians who fled to the US in the eighties (he heard it on Al Jazeera).
For those of you in the Netherlands, especially if you stemmed SP or PvdA, please do not click on the link; there are far too many Jews there for you guys to feel comfortable. Besides, you folks disapprove so horribly of everything American that you would probably vote for Ahmedinejad, and sell your own daughters into whoredom to fund him.
With fond regards,
-----B.O.T.H.
NO HOMOSEXUALS IN IRAN!
No, they haven't succeeded in killing them all.
Not for want of trying, though.
It's just good old-fashioned denialism.
According to Mahmoud Ahmedinejad:
"In Iran we don't have homosexuals, like in your country -- In Iran we do not have this phenomenon, I don't know who has told you that we have it"
Sources:
http://afp.google.com/article/ALeqM5hATGOzv6YSmgeMY1zdYbdpyrG2cw
and:
http://commentisfree.guardian.co.uk/brian_whitaker/2007/09/no_homosexuality_here.html
and:
http://www.iht.com/articles/2007/09/25/africa/ahmedinejad.php
Most Middle-Eastern countries assert that they do not have homosexuals, none of those people, no, not really any at all, at least no significant numbers, maybe a few westernized playboys, or transients from "other" countries like Pakistan.
And in any case, they usually blame homosexuality on The Prosyletizing International Gay Agenda and former British colonial functionaries.
At least they don't blame the Jews, or their own women.
Not for want of trying, though.
It's just good old-fashioned denialism.
According to Mahmoud Ahmedinejad:
"In Iran we don't have homosexuals, like in your country -- In Iran we do not have this phenomenon, I don't know who has told you that we have it"
Sources:
http://afp.google.com/article/ALeqM5hATGOzv6YSmgeMY1zdYbdpyrG2cw
and:
http://commentisfree.guardian.co.uk/brian_whitaker/2007/09/no_homosexuality_here.html
and:
http://www.iht.com/articles/2007/09/25/africa/ahmedinejad.php
Most Middle-Eastern countries assert that they do not have homosexuals, none of those people, no, not really any at all, at least no significant numbers, maybe a few westernized playboys, or transients from "other" countries like Pakistan.
And in any case, they usually blame homosexuality on The Prosyletizing International Gay Agenda and former British colonial functionaries.
At least they don't blame the Jews, or their own women.
UPDATE ON EMES VE EMUNAH
I received my copy of Emes ve Emunah: A Sfas Emes Companion (by Nosson Chayim Leff) today.
I haven't had much time to look at it, but I will go over it thoroughly in the next few days and post a review soon.
I haven't had much time to look at it, but I will go over it thoroughly in the next few days and post a review soon.
Monday, September 24, 2007
WELL-AIRED
Back in 1984 I lived in a residential hotel above a nightclub on Broadway.
I stayed in a small room, with a window out onto a large air well. Two dozen other rooms also opened onto the air well. On autumn evenings, with the window open, I could hear the other tenants.
Placid female voice from across the air well: "Would you like a sandwich? I could make you a cheese sandwich.... you would like a cheeeeese sandwich, wouldn't you? Perhaps....., ...... you ..... should have a cheese sandwich. Would you like that?"
Three or four times a week for several months I heard nearly identical monologues by the same voice, but I never heard a response.
Maybe her roommate was imaginary. If so, a very constipated fantasy friend. How nice.
Shrill angry voice from the top floor: "Get off me, bitch. Get OFF me, bitch. Get-off-me, BIIIIITCH! Gwan, get off! Get yourself off, bitch. Get offf!" Followed by another shrill voice saying: "you're so soft and cootchy when you're angry".
Well now.
Dysfunctional?
I seldom heard the most interesting tenants, though, as their private lives were far less noisy, much more visual. I greeted them when I saw them in the hallway. The inbred-looking gimp with the tight leather pants. The drunk with the cross-eyed young wife (he was often passed out in her arms at the top of the stairs). The petite blond dance hostess with the tattooed biker-chick girl-friend. The preacher-man who spoke no English.
Also, the five hundred pound transvestite with the greasy leather diaper, who drifted the halls cocktail in hand while waiting for gentleman callers. When he was working, his three willowy roomies and the big (and very male) German shepherd would be shooed out, to go drink sodas down at Nick's.
Afterwards, another cocktail, and a cigarette. Reclining with grace, staring dreamily at the ceiling. Flaked out on the zebra-striped throw rug on the bed, door wide open, big-band music on the tape player, a spiral of rose incense drifting heavenward.
One tried not to look, but one sometimes couldn't help catching corner-of-the-eye glimpses. He was surprisingly pink, one thought.
Occasionally he would wander the halls in a flowery blue and red kimono with a purple sash. On those days he was "indisposed". Not receiving guests. In a funk or brown study. Or just taking a day off.
On weekends he would pop enough pills to put a normal person in the hospital twice over. It had little effect on him. He would titter a little more giddily, and entertain many more gentlemen. His three boy-thingies would spend all weekend at Nick's coffee shop. By Sunday evening he was positively twirling. All beams and laughs and girlish chirpy cooing, reeking of Vodka, Kool Filter Kings, and almond-scented body oil. Effusive, cheerful, and hippity-bippity-boppiting. A sight to be seen. Infectious joi de vivre.
After he moved out, I heard from the manager that between the four of them ('Sister Love-Bear and The Three Graces') they drank a crate of beer a day. The manager was sad to see them go. But happy to finally be able to throw out the zebra-striped throw-rug that had covered the bed - his dislike of that bed-cover may have been personal, but I dared not ask; he seemed to be on a first-name basis with the oily, crackly thing.
A month later the inbred gimp with the tight leather pants moved out too. He shot out all the bathroom mirrors with a Saturday-night special before leaving the building. The mirrors had offended him.
Now, perhaps you should eat a cheese sandwich?
I stayed in a small room, with a window out onto a large air well. Two dozen other rooms also opened onto the air well. On autumn evenings, with the window open, I could hear the other tenants.
Placid female voice from across the air well: "Would you like a sandwich? I could make you a cheese sandwich.... you would like a cheeeeese sandwich, wouldn't you? Perhaps....., ...... you ..... should have a cheese sandwich. Would you like that?"
Three or four times a week for several months I heard nearly identical monologues by the same voice, but I never heard a response.
Maybe her roommate was imaginary. If so, a very constipated fantasy friend. How nice.
Shrill angry voice from the top floor: "Get off me, bitch. Get OFF me, bitch. Get-off-me, BIIIIITCH! Gwan, get off! Get yourself off, bitch. Get offf!" Followed by another shrill voice saying: "you're so soft and cootchy when you're angry".
Well now.
Dysfunctional?
I seldom heard the most interesting tenants, though, as their private lives were far less noisy, much more visual. I greeted them when I saw them in the hallway. The inbred-looking gimp with the tight leather pants. The drunk with the cross-eyed young wife (he was often passed out in her arms at the top of the stairs). The petite blond dance hostess with the tattooed biker-chick girl-friend. The preacher-man who spoke no English.
Also, the five hundred pound transvestite with the greasy leather diaper, who drifted the halls cocktail in hand while waiting for gentleman callers. When he was working, his three willowy roomies and the big (and very male) German shepherd would be shooed out, to go drink sodas down at Nick's.
Afterwards, another cocktail, and a cigarette. Reclining with grace, staring dreamily at the ceiling. Flaked out on the zebra-striped throw rug on the bed, door wide open, big-band music on the tape player, a spiral of rose incense drifting heavenward.
One tried not to look, but one sometimes couldn't help catching corner-of-the-eye glimpses. He was surprisingly pink, one thought.
Occasionally he would wander the halls in a flowery blue and red kimono with a purple sash. On those days he was "indisposed". Not receiving guests. In a funk or brown study. Or just taking a day off.
On weekends he would pop enough pills to put a normal person in the hospital twice over. It had little effect on him. He would titter a little more giddily, and entertain many more gentlemen. His three boy-thingies would spend all weekend at Nick's coffee shop. By Sunday evening he was positively twirling. All beams and laughs and girlish chirpy cooing, reeking of Vodka, Kool Filter Kings, and almond-scented body oil. Effusive, cheerful, and hippity-bippity-boppiting. A sight to be seen. Infectious joi de vivre.
After he moved out, I heard from the manager that between the four of them ('Sister Love-Bear and The Three Graces') they drank a crate of beer a day. The manager was sad to see them go. But happy to finally be able to throw out the zebra-striped throw-rug that had covered the bed - his dislike of that bed-cover may have been personal, but I dared not ask; he seemed to be on a first-name basis with the oily, crackly thing.
A month later the inbred gimp with the tight leather pants moved out too. He shot out all the bathroom mirrors with a Saturday-night special before leaving the building. The mirrors had offended him.
Now, perhaps you should eat a cheese sandwich?
Friday, September 21, 2007
JENA? A THOUSAND JENAS NOW!
A mass of protestors several times larger than the town itself descended on Jena in Louisiana yesterday.
This was an absurd and overblown demonstration by any standard. And everytime I see the usual suspects (King relatives, sneering Baptist ministers, and angry "spokesmen" or "leaders of the black community"), I get the same nauseated feeling in my stomach as when Bush or Cheney are on the television. Opportunists, hypocrites, swine.
Indeed, the trial of that young feller was a travesty. And the Jena six are being treated more harshly than a bunch of redneck good ole boys would've been in a similar situation.
But let us not forget that six of them ganged up on the victim.
I realize that holding to the idea that a fight should be fair and balanced is rather ridiculous and old-fashioned, but evenso.
Nevertheless, Jena was not about Jena. And there is good reason for frustration on the more richly pigmented side of the fence.
TO ILLUSTRATE
This morning I tried to flag down a taxi. On the corner opposite me, a black woman was trying to do the same. A very civilized looking black woman, clean, neat - an office worker late for work, or rushing to an appointment. In any case, both of us were clearly trying to get to the financial district, further down California street, on the other side of the hill.
An approaching taxi was heading towards the intersection, and I stopped waving. She had been there first, it was nearer to her than to me, and it would've been bad form to compete with her taxi-opportunity.
The taxi veered deliberately away from her, crossed the intersection, and stopped for me.
Did I mention that I am a white male?
I should have. I am as white and glow-in-the-dark as they come. I radiate honky.
I do not usually define myself solely in terms of gender and skin-hue, but in this case it seems appropriate, as it appears to bear greatly on what I am describing.
The taxi driver beckoned that I should get in. I shook my head and waved the taxi on.
Taking that taxi would, I feel, have been reprehensible. Either we all get treated equitably, or we all end up screwed.
I am not feeling particularly good about the experience, though, as I let a chance slip by. You see, I am not really a nice person - I have an immense streak of bitchy mean nasty a-hole in me. And this would've been a splendid opportunity to nurture that side, to have coaxed it into full riotous bloom. Fecund, rank, and gigantically unpleasant, like the Titan Arum.
I could have, and should have, and indeed would have if I had been awake enough, given that particular taxi-driver such a harangue that it would've generated nightmares and post-traumatic stress. Vented. Used pointed insults in several languages, cleanly and brutally analyzing the driver's family tree for several generations. Viciously and eloquently caused a crisis of confidence and identity that would have prompted a drastic career change. Induced fear, panic, and hysterical weeping.
My mean streak would have thoroughly enjoyed that.
Once more: Either we all get treated equitably, or we all end up screwed.
We need a thousand protests such as the one yesterday in Jena now.
Son-of-a-bitch.
This was an absurd and overblown demonstration by any standard. And everytime I see the usual suspects (King relatives, sneering Baptist ministers, and angry "spokesmen" or "leaders of the black community"), I get the same nauseated feeling in my stomach as when Bush or Cheney are on the television. Opportunists, hypocrites, swine.
Indeed, the trial of that young feller was a travesty. And the Jena six are being treated more harshly than a bunch of redneck good ole boys would've been in a similar situation.
But let us not forget that six of them ganged up on the victim.
I realize that holding to the idea that a fight should be fair and balanced is rather ridiculous and old-fashioned, but evenso.
Nevertheless, Jena was not about Jena. And there is good reason for frustration on the more richly pigmented side of the fence.
TO ILLUSTRATE
This morning I tried to flag down a taxi. On the corner opposite me, a black woman was trying to do the same. A very civilized looking black woman, clean, neat - an office worker late for work, or rushing to an appointment. In any case, both of us were clearly trying to get to the financial district, further down California street, on the other side of the hill.
An approaching taxi was heading towards the intersection, and I stopped waving. She had been there first, it was nearer to her than to me, and it would've been bad form to compete with her taxi-opportunity.
The taxi veered deliberately away from her, crossed the intersection, and stopped for me.
Did I mention that I am a white male?
I should have. I am as white and glow-in-the-dark as they come. I radiate honky.
I do not usually define myself solely in terms of gender and skin-hue, but in this case it seems appropriate, as it appears to bear greatly on what I am describing.
The taxi driver beckoned that I should get in. I shook my head and waved the taxi on.
Taking that taxi would, I feel, have been reprehensible. Either we all get treated equitably, or we all end up screwed.
I am not feeling particularly good about the experience, though, as I let a chance slip by. You see, I am not really a nice person - I have an immense streak of bitchy mean nasty a-hole in me. And this would've been a splendid opportunity to nurture that side, to have coaxed it into full riotous bloom. Fecund, rank, and gigantically unpleasant, like the Titan Arum.
I could have, and should have, and indeed would have if I had been awake enough, given that particular taxi-driver such a harangue that it would've generated nightmares and post-traumatic stress. Vented. Used pointed insults in several languages, cleanly and brutally analyzing the driver's family tree for several generations. Viciously and eloquently caused a crisis of confidence and identity that would have prompted a drastic career change. Induced fear, panic, and hysterical weeping.
My mean streak would have thoroughly enjoyed that.
Once more: Either we all get treated equitably, or we all end up screwed.
We need a thousand protests such as the one yesterday in Jena now.
Son-of-a-bitch.
Thursday, September 20, 2007
CHICKEN ATONEMENT
This posting is more or less about shlugn kapores.
One of the things which many shtrenge yidden will be doing at this time of year is using a live chicken for scapegoating purposes (which involves twirling it over one's head while reciting a formula). In recent years there have been accusations of animal cruelty, and disturbing reports of abused chickens kept in deplorable conditions.
The management of this blog has found a video which is quite incriminating.
[Note especially the strong Litvish accent of the gentleman distressing the chicken.]
Shlugn kapores
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ylItNtfNzOE
Surely the scenes you have just witnessed must be quite shocking to the unititiated. What is surprising is that even in this modern day and age such voodooistic rituals are performed, by people of whom one expects a greater level of awareness and intelligence.
OUTRAGEOUS!
What can you do?
Watch this video for answers!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=auXrmn5uqOk
Now, write to your local SPCA chapter, and tell them ......
Oh heck, I can't keep up the pretense - you've already realized that the idea of shlugn kapores has formed a solid link in my mind with the Swedish Chef from the Muppet Show. So, without further nonsense, here are some other great scenes.
Meatballs
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sY_Yf4zz-yo
Bananananana na
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2B6bnUVbUWw
Moooooose
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CAsYwW7pt7o
Ribbit
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UzLgHGCtlVQ
Soup
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j1KSaUEu_T4
Stew
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rH9MaW1tjig
Italian food
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZOKUdMr95Ig
Lamentation
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OCbuRA_D3KU
I'm sure you'll agree that last one was very touching. Or something. I couldn't wait for a more appropriate time.
Mork mork mork.
One of the things which many shtrenge yidden will be doing at this time of year is using a live chicken for scapegoating purposes (which involves twirling it over one's head while reciting a formula). In recent years there have been accusations of animal cruelty, and disturbing reports of abused chickens kept in deplorable conditions.
The management of this blog has found a video which is quite incriminating.
[Note especially the strong Litvish accent of the gentleman distressing the chicken.]
Shlugn kapores
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ylItNtfNzOE
Surely the scenes you have just witnessed must be quite shocking to the unititiated. What is surprising is that even in this modern day and age such voodooistic rituals are performed, by people of whom one expects a greater level of awareness and intelligence.
OUTRAGEOUS!
What can you do?
Watch this video for answers!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=auXrmn5uqOk
Now, write to your local SPCA chapter, and tell them ......
Oh heck, I can't keep up the pretense - you've already realized that the idea of shlugn kapores has formed a solid link in my mind with the Swedish Chef from the Muppet Show. So, without further nonsense, here are some other great scenes.
Meatballs
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sY_Yf4zz-yo
Bananananana na
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2B6bnUVbUWw
Moooooose
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CAsYwW7pt7o
Ribbit
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UzLgHGCtlVQ
Soup
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j1KSaUEu_T4
Stew
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rH9MaW1tjig
Italian food
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZOKUdMr95Ig
Lamentation
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OCbuRA_D3KU
I'm sure you'll agree that last one was very touching. Or something. I couldn't wait for a more appropriate time.
Mork mork mork.
YOM KIPPUR
Two years ago I told one of my colleagues that a certain salesrep would probably not respond to her queries because it was Yom Kippur.
I forgot to tell her what Yom Kippur was.
She e-mailed him, wishing him a happy Yom Kippur.
.
.
.
He accepted her holiday greeting with good grace. In the ecumenical spirit in which it was offered.
Ecumeny, y'all. Ecumeny.
I forgot to tell her what Yom Kippur was.
She e-mailed him, wishing him a happy Yom Kippur.
.
.
.
He accepted her holiday greeting with good grace. In the ecumenical spirit in which it was offered.
Ecumeny, y'all. Ecumeny.
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GRITS AND TOFU
Like most Americans, I have a list of people who should be peacefully retired from public service and thereafter kept away from their desks,...
