A parable about geometric figures

A triangle and a circle were arguing what the leading geometric figure of the future will be.

They agreed that triangle has advantages, but so does the circle. One problem is: although superficially more attractive, the triangle is less stable. On the other hand, circle is, well, way too round. So, it was agreed that even though the circle will lose its current fundamentalism and become somewhat of an oval, the triangle will certainly not survive, at least in its current shape (no pun intended… I think).

Now, a complex 11-dimensional figure which was sitting nearby, overhearing the conversation, mumbled something like: “Don’t you guys realize that you both are flat and two-dimensional? I mean, three hundred years ago, such a conversation would be somewhat interesting, but today it’s just silly. No matter which one of you survives and in what shape, you will still remain flat.”

The two figures heard that and said: “This is why nobody likes you. You don’t even think of other geometric figures as geometric figures.”

The complex 11-dimensional figure responded: “Of course I do. I just think you lack some depth. (And maybe some more dimensions.)”

But, it was too late. The other two figures left to tell their friends of yet another example of a hating complex 11-dimensional figure.

* * *

Homework assignment:

• Contribution of Chassidus to Davening
• Chassidus of Learning Torah
• Baal Shem Tov’s Revolution
• On the Essence of Chassidus

A gutt morgen

(An iPhone desktop background. Source)

Alter Rebbe says in the famous ma’amor that we find that G-d is evident to all people from the fact that everyone mentions him. In addition, Baal Shem Tov used to go around marketplace and ask Jews how they were doing just to hear “Baruch Hashem”.

The Rebbe explains in this year’s (last year’s?) Bosi LeGani that through tehillas Yisroel — simple Jews’ praises of Eibeshter — the middas ha’netzach (the desire of victory) is aroused. Middas ha’netzach is connected with a simple desire for victory — not for the purpose of riches, territory or political influence, but just the victory itself.

That simplicity is reflected in a simple Jew’s “baruch Hashem”. It is also reflected in the Мoideh Ani — the first praise of Hashem that the Jew makes. He is not awake yet, he doesn’t know in which world he is, and yet already he is saying “adaynk” to Eibeshter. What happens next? His yetzer ha’rah wakes up. (More on Мoideh Аni. More on tehillas yisroel.)

On Simple Jew’s (I just got that, by the way) post about Slonim Chassidus, one commentor says: “Frankly, I don’t know what our generation’s path is.” During the Yud-Shvat farbrengen (that I am still to put up), somebody said: it’s praising Hashem in the marketplace. Letting Hashem in everyday aspects of our life. Living every day with Shulchan Aruch. That’s our path.

If that’s true, it’s both an uplifting and terrifying thought.

[If you thought this post was lame, I only really wanted to post that picture. So, lechayim, lechayim.]

Two types

This Shabbos I heard a variation of the famous adage.

There are two types. Those who sing the song after ach tzaddikim out loud. And those who sing it in their head.

Putting the puzzle together

There is a saying in Yiddish, “Az tzvei menchen zugen dir du bist a shiker, gei shlofen” (“If two people tell you that you’re drunk, go to sleep”). I can’t possibly give over every single vort I heard tonight at once — I’ll have to do it in installments (plus, I’ll post the recording of it after I delete the pauses, niggunim, things that shouldn’t be public, etc.). I will, however, give over the one I was quite impressed with (also, it was at the beginning, so I can find it easily on my recording).

When you put together a puzzle, what do you do? First, you put together the edges, which is not hard, because they are straight and clear. After you’re done with the edges, what do you do? You put the middle together, obviously. But how do you do this?

Answer: you look at the puzzle’s box cover which has the picture (and put the puzzle together according to the picture).

In our lives — the lives of Jews — the edges are very clear. Hashem wants us to keep Halacha, so we keep Halacha. Shulchan Aruch says X, we do X. Shulchan Aruch says “not Y”, so we don’t do Y. Hashem wants us to daven, so we daven. Nu?.. That’s the simple part. I mean, sure, it’s difficult, but at least it’s straightforward. If you’re an appikoires, that’s another story — but as a frum Yid, surely you know what to do, and it’s clear.

But that’s only the edges of the puzzle. The middle of the puzzle is empty and broken. How do we make sure that our puzzle has the essence, the filling, and that it is not broken in hundred pieces, but that it’s one piece — that our keeping of Halacha, our davening, our learning, our Yiddishkeit, our community (az och un vei) are not empty, meaningless, for the sake of themselves, without essence or purpose — and, most importantly, are one single nekuda, one single entity unified with Hashem? How do we fill the middle of the puzzle?

We look at the cover of the box — we look at what the Rebbe tells us and teaches us the filling, the “middle” should be.

But why should we care what the cover of the box looks like? What does it have to do with the actual puzzle? The answer is that obviously, whoever drew the cover of the box saw the puzzle in its complete form — and copied it onto the box.

The Rebbe saw the puzzle, with edges and with the middle, one single piece, with essence, complete and unified. He saw the world in its perfect, final state, with every piece of it, from the mundane physical aspects, to deep spiritual ideas, to meat and potatoes of Judaism (the commandments, the law, the rituals, the learning, the customs, the community) — all of this one with Hashem. He didn’t only see it in the future, He saw it in the present. He lived in it.

And he painted the picture of what it looks for us, so that we can put together the puzzle — of our lives and of this world.

Except, the Rebbe did more. Our Rebbe, the final, the seventh, the current, born in 1902, did more. As somebody said on a Living Torah video, Frierdiker Rebbe knew how the World to Come looks like. The Rebbe knew how to get there. And he showed us. He told us. He taught us — not in a way of metaphors, parables, hints, play of shadows and light. In a clear and obvious way.

Du dorf lernen Chassidus Chabad. You have to learn Chabad Chassidus to bring Mashiach. As my rabbi says, you have to learn the Rebbe’s sichos (and ma’amorim obviously). It is exciting time to be a chossid of the Rebbe. It is important and responsible time. Stop chaking chainik. Go and bring Mashiach.

Chess

(how computer sees a chess game)

I hope y’all are having a nice Yud Shvat.

Very nice (visually) computer chess player. (As far as skill, it’s not too great — I won without too much effort, and I am nowhere near a decent player; plus, I haven’t played chess for a long time, having switched from it to the greatest board game ever invented.)

This web-site illustrates very nicely the idea of framework of nodes and choices (all roads lead to Rome; all choices lead to Mashiach) and also why Go is so much cooler than chess.

Rabbi Shlomo Yaffe uses the moshol of chess to explain the hashgacha protis – bechira dichotomy.