Why not?

I heard a question recently about eating Oreo cookies (made on dairy machinery) with meat. It had to do with a discussion of Modern Orthodox and “right-wing” perspective of Halacha. I won’t go into Halachic details, because that’s not the point. The point is that I wanted to re-post something I wrote some time ago:


(how some people see Judaism)

Interesting post on Circus Tent blog regarding two worlds of Orthodox Judaism:

Today in the US we have a whole range of people under 60, American born, whose knowledge of Judaism is based exclusively on books, and those books are the Shulchan Aruch and Gemora. Most of these people had parents whom I am sure were fine people but left behind the emotional attachment to echte Yiddishkayt in Europe. Here they belonged to Young Israel synagogues and became very acculturated and lost that special hergesh. In America, Judaism was reduced to learning and doing Mitzvos by rote. These people include most MO Jews, the so called Yeshiva community, and even some “Amerikane Chasidim”.

On the other side we have people whose view of Judaism was shaped by seeing how their parents acted, felt, laughed, cried, talked and walked. These people tended to have a genuine Mesorah. They saw Judaism as more than just book learning, and the book learning included Midrash, Chassidus, Sifrei Mussar vechulu. This people tend to be Chassidic and a few Misnagdim who come from European homes. And in the background of all of this loomed the Holocaust, not Coney Island! To the first category Rabbonim are “machinove”, automated people who act in a mathematical way, and have no emotions. The second category knows that Judaism is more than the dry letter of the law.

And I cannot help myself but to bang on the kettle again — within the group that sees the spirit of the law in the letter, two approaches exist: 1) look at Judaism as a path, as a tradition, as a community-preserving/shaping force, 2) look at Judaism as a way of connecting to G-d.


(do we care about the phone because it connects us, or because we like it as a gadget?)

String Theory and Chassidus

What does the concept of ten dimensions mean?



Now, these ideas are discussed in a number of Rebbe Rashab’s ma’amorim and hemsheichim. Plus, numerous ma’amorim by the Rebbe. Some of these are available on Rabbi Paltiel’s web-site.

This is the answer of Rabbi Paltiel to a question asked by someone to him two years ago. The question said:

From Mem-Gimel.

Madregois lifnei hatzimtzum:

1. Moer — Kadmon
2. Yechoilos — Kadmoin ki kadmusoi
3. Spherois ein ketz — Kmo kadmon haheder
4. Ratzon
5. Eser spherois hagnuzois — Mehudesh

[Levels before the Creation:
1. Luminary — Eternal
2. Potentials — Eternal as He is eternal
3. Infinite number of spherois — As if existing forever (see below)
4. His Will
5. Ten Hidden Spherois — Innovation]

So, about number 3 it is said, that “it ‘always’ existed, but if Eibeshter wanted to, it wouldn’t exist”. What about yechoilos (potentials)?

Also, because the level 2 is differentiated from the level 1, does this mean that on the level of Eibeshter Himself there is not even a potential for creation (in a positive sense — that Eibeshter is above and beyond even the level of being potentially the Primary Source)?

The unasked question is: how can there exist levels within G-d’s pure, singular Light? Rabbi Paltiel’s answer (when listening, if the terms of “anatomy” are unclear, don’t worry about it — keep listening to what he says later):



Now, my question is: How can a Jew wake up in the morning, say Moideh Ani, say Shmah, go about his business through life and not know these things?

The other thing is: what Rabbi Paltiel explains is difficult to understand. But if you know a bit of Math or physics or just watch the movie above (starting from the discussion of the fifth dimension), you can understand it a little better. What does that say about chochmas chitzoinius?

Who’s laughing now?

[via Adam from New Orleans]

Be pure

Is a Jew allowed to go to a palm reader, a psychic, a stock brocker, a kabbalist or write into Igros Koidesh?

For the answer, listen to this shiur by Rabbi Paltiel.

Who knew...

...that Russian trolleybuses have cute little curtains in their windows?



[via Artemiy Lebedev]

Joe Biden, the court jester

Read here.

In general, the job of a republican vice president is to draw public’s attention at himself by showing himself to be an even bigger asshole than the president (hence the “vice” president). Cheney had to work double-hard. For a while the whole Haliburton ties “conspiracy” was working out well, but Bush proved to be such tough competition that Cheney eventually had to shoot a friend of his during a hunting “accident” just to look an even bigger jerk.

Of course, liberal vice president’s job is to show himself as an even bigger fool than the president. I think Biden so far is performing very admirably. Bidenisms are not big deal. Those are just mistakes and faux pas. The funnier things are the ones he says prepared and the ones he sincerely believes in.

One thing for sure: it’s a good thing the sweet couple are not republicans. I don’t know if Biden has enough intelligence to look an even bigger asshole than Obama. For instance:

Obama administration officials, fearing a battle with Congress that could stall plans to close the U.S. prison at Guantanamo Bay, are crafting language for an executive order that would reassert presidential authority to incarcerate terrorism suspects indefinitely, according to three senior government officials with knowledge of White House deliberations.

Woo-hoo! No putting of national security over terrorists’ human rights. I mean...

I see someone has been briefed by CIA and opened a few portfolios expecting to find innocent shepherds and taxi drivers snatched at a gun point to find instead…

Workspace, annotated

Following the wishes of a certain stalker.


(click on the picture to enlarge)

The Great Cat Massacre

From a book I read while waiting at the airport (when I wasn’t doing a comparative anthropology study):

THE FUNNIEST THING that ever happened in the printing shop of Jacques Vincent, according to a worker who witnessed it, was a riotous massacre of cats. The worker, Nicolas Contat, told the story in an account of his apprenticeship in the shop, rue Saint- Séverin, Paris, during the late 1730s. Life as an apprentice was hard, he explained. There were two of them: Jerome, the somewhat fictionalized version of Contat himself, and Léveillé. They slept in a filthy, freezing room, rose before dawn, ran errands all day while dodging insults from the journeymen and abuse from the master, and received nothing but slops to eat. They found the food especially galling. Instead of dining at the master's table, they had to eat scraps from his plate in the kitchen. Worse still, the cook secretly sold the leftovers and gave the boys cat food: old, rotten bits of meat that they could not stomach and so passed on to the cats, who refused it.

This last injustice brought Contat to the theme of cats. They occupied a special place in his narrative and in the household of the rue Saint-Séverin. The master's wife adored them, especially la grise (the gray), her favorite. A passion for cats seemed to have swept through the printing trade, at least at the level of the masters, or bourgeois as the workers called them. One bourgeois kept teenier cats. He had their portraits painted and fed them on roast fowl. Meanwhile, the apprentices were trying to cope with a profusion of alley cats who also thrived in the printing district and made the boys' lives miserable. The cats howled all night on the roof over the apprentices' dingy bedroom, making it impossible to get a full night's sleep. As Jerome and Léveillé had to stagger out of bed at four or five in the morning to open the gate for the earliest arrivals among the journeymen, they began the day in a state of exhaustion while the bourgeois slept late. The master did not even work with the men, just as he did not eat with them. He let the foreman run the shop and rarely appeared in it, except to vent his violent temper, usually at the expense of the apprentices.

Read on (I assume just from the name itself you can guess what happened next). From this book.

By the way, I know it comes as no surprise to anyone that the French have always been amongst the top five weirdest nations in the world (read on to see what I mean).

Tiny URL

Use Tiny URL, oh you of blogging pursuasion.

Enter a long URL to make tiny:

From Tiny URL website:

Add TinyURL to your browser's toolbar

Click and drag the following link to your links toolbar.

TinyURL!

Once this is on your toolbar, you'll be able to make a TinyURL at the click of a button. By clicking on the toolbar button, a TinyURL will be created for the page you are currently at.

This is compatible with most web browsers and platforms as long as your bookmarks or favorites allow javascript. The links toolbar may not be visible in all setups and in most browsers, you can enable it in the View->Toolbars menu of your web browser. You can also put it in your bookmarks instead of the links toolbar.

Can't drag and drop? For some users, such as some recent IE 6 installations, the clicking and dragging of links that contain javascript is no longer supported. To add this to your IE links toolbar, click the link with your right mouse button and select "Add to Favorites..." from the menu. Click OK if a security warning alert pops-up (this shows up since the link contains javscript). If a list of folders is not shown, click the "Create in >>>" button (see image at right). Now select the folder called "Links" and then click OK. You should now see the TinyURL on your links toolbar, if not, see the last paragraph above.

Now, I actually did not need all this circus previously, because I had an add-on for Firefox which allowed you to right-click on a web-site and select “Create TinyURL link” option, which copied the newly created tiny url into my buffer (requiring from me only to paste it into the required place). Alas, this feature is not supported in Firefox 3.5 — I hope not for long.

Vanya

In other news, for Modeh B’Miktsas (listen just to the story at beginning and the very short discussion following it): Rabbi Paltiel’s discussion about the layers in Torah and the relationship between nigleh and Chassidus. A similar discussion exists at the beginning of the first shiurim for Ranat and Samech Vov ma’amorim (which you’re welcome to locate at Rabbi Paltiel’s web-site), but this discussion is more straightforward, and he gets to the point quicker.

On Apple and French architecture

What’s the similarity between Apple products (in here I am talking specifically about iPhones, but Macs too) and medieval French bathrooms?

In theory the idea of multitasking (i.e., two programs or two people — on different floors — at the same time) exists, but in practice it’s difficult to implement.

(source)

On Canadian healthcare

From an article about Canadian healthcare system compared to American one:

Canadians have a longer life expectancy, lower infant mortality rates and lower rates of obesity and diabetes than people in the United States. Canadians' primary care doctors get paid more and spend more time with their patients than doctors across the border to the south.

But Canadians also wait twice as long for non-emergency care and sometimes come to the U.S. for specialized treatment.

Introduction into Kabbalistic concepts of Chabad Chassidus

The Knowledge of G-d.

Russia of 1960s

Through the eyes of a French photographer: gallery.

Compare to USA of the same period.

[Through Artemiy Lebedev]

Sand animation: WWII

One of the coolest things I have seen in a long time. No comments necessary… (The songs are from the WWII culture in the former Soviet Union countries.)

Charlie Chaplin and Brahms

Dedicated to MA state police

One morning when I awakened
Oh beauty bye, beauty bye, beauty bye-bye-bye!
One morning when I awakened
I found invaders all around

Oh partisan, come take me with you
Oh beauty bye, beauty bye, beauty bye-bye-bye!
Oh partisan, come take me with you
Because I feel ready to die

If I die fighting as a partisan
Oh beauty bye, beauty bye, beauty bye-bye-bye!
If I die fighting as a partisan
You must come and bury me

Bury me there, up in the mountains
Oh beauty bye, beauty bye, beauty bye-bye-bye!
Bury me there, up in the mountains
Shade my grave with a lovely flower

So all the people who pass that way
Oh beauty bye, beauty bye, beauty bye-bye-bye!
So all the people who pass that way
Will say "Oh see that lovely flower! - "

"Ah that's the flower of the partisan fighter - "
Oh beauty bye, beauty bye, beauty bye-bye-bye!
"Ah that's the flower of the partisan fighter
who died for freedom's sake!"

Another version:



In the mountains and foothills bloom edelweisses.
In the valley corncrake’s voice was heard.
We will soon see each other, we will be together
The road to you carries my song
We will soon see each other, we will be together
The road to you carries my song

Oh, Bella, Ciao, Bella, Ciao,
Oh, Bella, Ciao, Bella, Ciao, Bella, Ciao,
Oh, Bella, Ciao, Bella, Ciao,
Oh, Bella, Ciao, Bella, Ciao, Bella, Ciao, Ciao, Ciao.

Where brothers fell asleep forever under the earth,
Already the first shoots appear,
Sensing the sky and the smell of freedom.
There, the sun to you carries my song.
Sensing the sky and the smell of freedom.
There, the sun to you carries my song.

Oh, Bella, Ciao, Bella, Ciao,
Oh, Bella, Ciao, Bella, Ciao, Bella, Ciao,
Oh, Bella, Ciao, Bella, Ciao,
Oh, Bella, Ciao, Bella, Ciao, Bella, Ciao, Ciao, Ciao.

In the provinces that are small, in the homes of straw,
Where mills wave their wings
And women wave with their hands after us.
Their tenderness to you carries my song.
And women wave with their hands after us.
Their tenderness to you carries my song.

Oh, Bella, Ciao, Bella, Ciao,
Oh, Bella, Ciao, Bella, Ciao, Bella, Ciao,
Oh, Bella, Ciao, Bella, Ciao,
Oh, Bella, Ciao, Bella, Ciao, Bella, Ciao, Ciao, Ciao.

Smelling as fire thunderous storms
Already rage, rage away,
But their lights are not terrible, they shine on the road
The road that to you carries my song.
But their lights are not terrible, they shine on the road
The road that to you carries my song.

Oh, Bella, Ciao, Bella, Ciao,
Oh, Bella, Ciao, Bella, Ciao, Bella, Ciao,
Oh, Bella, Ciao, Bella, Ciao,
Oh, Bella, Ciao, Bella, Ciao, Bella, Ciao, Ciao, Ciao.

So sleep, the brothers, under the black earth,
In the mountains bloom again, edelweisses!
And thunderstorms, burn! Knives, cut bread!
And women weep! And the sprouts shoot up!
Where tenderness and the sun, and the path and hope
All to you alone carry my song.

Oh, Bella, Ciao, Bella, Ciao,
Oh, Bella, Ciao, Bella, Ciao, Bella, Ciao,
Oh, Bella, Ciao, Bella, Ciao,
Oh, Bella, Ciao, Bella, Ciao, Bella, Ciao, Ciao, Ciao.

A man and a cat

As always, it sounds better in Russian. And the song actually has a happy tune. Which I guess makes this a very Russian song — sad lyrics, happy tune…

“Chelovek i koshka” (Человек и кошка) — A man and a cat

A man and a cat are crying next to a window.
Grey rain is dripping right on the glass.
To the man and the cat an emergency van is driving,
Poor man has spasm of his brain.

Doctor is driving, driving through snowy plains.
He is bringing curing powder to people.

The man and the cat will take the powder,

And the sorrow will retreat; sadness will go away.

The man and the man cat are counting days with difficulty,
Instead of a blue sky — gray ceiling.
The man and the cat are flying at night;
Only the non-prophetic dream does not allow for wings.

Doctor is driving, driving through snowy plains.
He is bringing curing powder to people.

The man and the cat will take the powder,

And the sorrow will retreat; sadness will go away.

Where, where, where are you, white carriage?
In the walls of a bathroom, the man is screaming.
But the walls do not hear him; pipes like veins.
And the toilet is ticking madly like heart.

Doctor is driving, driving through snowy plains.
He is bringing curing powder to people.

The man and the cat will take the powder,

And the sorrow will retreat; sadness will go away.

(From repertoire of the band Nol’ [Zero])

Thanks to my friend Henry G. who works with baby humans and adult ferrets.

P.S. No, it’s not about popularization of drugs. It’s about loneliness. Yes, I know what “P.S.” means.

Your whisper and laugh

More by Sukachyov:

Great news from the front

Such fun:

President Obama may have to raise taxes to pay for public health care and the growing deficit [rrreealllly?.. who could have guessed?..], an eventuality that administration officials touched lightly on Sunday as they promoted an economy emerging from recession.

With an expected deficit next year of $1.8 trillion, and spending still being planned for a $1 trillion, 10-year health care reform, officials say something will have to be done to prevent further erosion of the economy.

"We will not get this economy back on track, recovery will be not strong and sustained, unless we ... can convince the American people that we're going to have the will to bring these deficits down once recovery is firmly established," Treasury Secretary Tim Geithner said on ABC's "This Week."

Asked point blank whether it was right to suggest it is a matter of when, not if, taxes will be raised, Geithner responded, "It is absolutely right."

But the president's team circling the Sunday morning news shows was quick to note that there are signs the recession is easing despite a persistent decline in job losses in the past six months [no worries then; all signs of improving economy here].

Administration officials say they hope to see positive economic growth before the end of the year, and credit the $787 billion Recovery and Reinvestment Act passed in February with preventing recession from going into depression.

The legislation — opposed by all but three Republicans in the House and Senate — was intended to help save or create 3 million to 4 million jobs. But since that time, the jobless rate has grown to 9.5 percent, higher than the administration predicted even without a stimulus package. [But that’s not because the administration’s model of the market, its prediction abilities, presence of common sense and in general the view of the Universe the administration is living in are all shit. It’s because… err… well, it would be even worse without the stimulus package, wouldn’t it? Wouldn’t it?]

Of course, raising new taxes and increasing minimum wage will make it more likely for new jobs to appear… Rrrrright?.. I mean, if you are a business owner, and your profit becomes even lower because you need to pay new taxes and pay more to each worker than the market (i.e., competition between businesses for workers) allows, you are not going to cut jobs; you are going to hire even more people. Yep, yep…

Also, friends, in case you were wondering, this is an image of an asshole:

July 28, 2009: Treasury Secretary Timothy Geithner offers a toast during a dinner after the first meeting of the U.S.-China Strategic and Economic Dialogue in Washington, D.C. (Reuters)

Results of a political spectrum quiz

From here:

My Political Views

I am a far-right social libertarian
Right: 8.97, Libertarian: 6.13



My Foreign Policy Views

On the left side are pacifists and anti-war activists. On the right side are those who want a strong military that intervenes around the world. You scored: 4.09

Score: 4.09


My Culture War Stance

Where are you in the culture war? On the liberal side, or the conservative side? This scale may apply more to the US than other countries. You scored: -2.28

Score: -2.28

(Don’t know how the culture war results happened. Must be because of my cultural laissez-faire views.)

Funny little critter

A midnight story

(Marc Chagall, “Over Vitebsk”)

Translated with Google translator, since I don’t know how to translate poetry.

Listen to it (after midday of Friday) here. Lyrics (again, sorry for Google translation, with Russian sentence structure preserved — the best thing to do is listen to the song, while looking at the translation):

Hersh-cobbler summer night
After three glasses of vodka,
In a whimsical step was going
From the inn home.
Walking was on an empty street,
Past the old synagogue,
Where prayers were not heard
The long three hundred years.

Breath of cold he felt
From the ruins blackened,
To Hersh seemed as if
A fire blinked.
And immediately stopped,
He leaned to the wall broken,
And looked carefully
In the blue twilight.

He saw eight elders
In the bloody clothes,
A Torah scroll on a stone,
And also a candle.
And above Torah bowed
Old Rebbe Eliyahu,
By cossacks killed
Three hundred years ago.

Alcohol dispelled instantly.
Recoiled Hershle-shoemaker
And wanted to escape, but feet
Grew to the ground!
And looked the late Rebbe
At scared Hersh,
And said: "At last we
We have our minyan. "

To Hersh, he extended his hands,
And in the hands holes of wounds
From the nails that were knocked
Three hundred years ago:
Steadfast the rabbi was in the faith,
And for this cossacks
Nailed Eliyahu
Dead to the wall!

Then said Rabbi sadly:
"Could not we pray,
because were were only nine --
this is not a minyan.
That is why did not hear
Us the Heavenly Almighty,
And it looks like you, shoemaker,
Arrived on time."

And prayed Hershle poor
In the synagogue with the dead,
And as the morning lit up --
He became one of them.
And him found his neighbors --
Shifra-nurse and Dvoyra,
And his widow called,
And they said to her:

"With the dead in minyan
Hersh will remain from now,
So that they could pray
For the living - for us. "
And they told the widow
Empty water from the basin,
Because the angel of death
In it washed his knife.

... Since then passed the years.
No Jews in Yavoritsi.
Faded memory, and over
Our story about them.
But moonless nights
In the ruins of the synagogue
Someone is praying silently
For the living - for us.

Author: Daniel Kluger.

What brings us together

Three participants of the beer summit, left to right, each thinking:

“A white man’s drink…”
“F—ing assholes. I wish I was drinking whiskey with my buddies, watching Sox…”
“Left side is my best photo angle…”

Fox News reports:

“I have always believed that what brings us together is stronger than what pulls us apart —” Obama said, adding: “…booze.”

“I Can't Believe I'm Sitting Next to a Republican”

An interesting interview with Harry Stein about the reasons of liberals being so “tolerant” of their conservative brethren. His main point is that when a liberal hears someone is a conservative, he does not think the conservative is wrong, he thinks the conservative is evil.

I myself had an experience of being asked “So, you are a conservative?” in the same tone as “So, your sister is a prostitute?”

I also remember how my rabbi once heard from someone that he would never even consider Orthodox Judaism as having any truth and would not even research or think about it, because Orthodox Judaism apparently limits one’s freedoms, disregards scientific evidence, is outdated, and in general it is close-minded to believe all the things that Orthodox Jews believe, which is why this person would not waste time learning even a little about them. My rabbi’s response was: “So… you closed your mind to stay open-minded?”

You get the same ‘tude in other illuminated places. In this Gizmodo article, the author makes fun of an Orthodox couple who sued a building owner for placing a motion-sensitive light near their apartment and refusing to allow them to pay for it being replaced with a normal light (or something or other). Now, some of the criticism is about people pushing their religious views on others, but most of it is about how ridiculous the idea of not turning light one day a week seems to everyone, how superstitious and outdated. (More particularly, the idea that turning light constitutes creating fire or building something is even more ridiculous to them.)

When one person was accused of disrespecting other people’s beliefs, he answered: “I am all for respecting other people’s religious beliefs, but not crazy superstitions such as these.”

So, with liberals being appaled at someone being a conservative (I am not even talking about being a libertarian — that’s not just a reason for disgust, but grounds for calling 911 and screaming: “There is a devil in my living room”) it’s the same thing.

There is a degree of accepted disagreement within their zone of comfort (e.g., you may disagree with me that Obama is the best candidate and Hillary is not — fine, I disagree with you but respect your opinion), but outside of this zone, you have drifted out of the definition of a normal human being, and no facts, arguments or supporting evidence help. You are either evil (if you are a conservative), nuts (if you are an Orthodox Jew not merely believing in G-d and wearing a white scarf on “Sabbath”, but actually practicing Jewish Law) or both (if you are a politically conservative Jew, who does not like Obama and eats properly shechted chicken on Shabbos with his sons who are circumcised and daughters who are dressed modestly).

Something to watch out for

[via Drugoi]

Are you kidding me?

It’s like asking: “Which method of travel is faster — a bicycle, a car, an air balloon, a submarine, a jet or TARDIS?” The only answer to that is: are you retarded? Did you just compare an air balloon to a time-traveling space ship?

You know whom to vote for.

Public place

Yesterday I mentioned to someone while passing a beautiful building downtown (a pseudo-palace of some sort) that in Russia, even public bathrooms look nicer. The someone probably thought I was joking, so here is a proof that I was not:

“Public Bathroom with Administrative Space”
(Общественный туалет с административными помещениями¹)
Razumovsky st., Stream № 4 Region
Ordered by: Caucasus Courort
Built by: Eurostroi
Beginning of work: 1st quarter of 2009
End of work: 4th quarter of 2009

So there. The said structure is allegedly being erected in the famous resort of Yessentuki.

[Via Alex Exler]

_____
¹ Look up the translation if you don’t believe me.

Use paragraphs

Just an advice to fellow bloggers (and I don’t mean anyone in particular): use paragraphs.

Otherwise, your posts look (and inspire desire to read them) just like this.

Of course, having short paragraphs with only one or two sentences in each also looks stupid.

Selling things outside of Beis HaMikdosh

I heard yesterday from someone that he had a problem with some guy standing outside of the mikveh of Arizal and selling towels. He said it reminded him of 770 today, supposedly one of the holiest places of the golus, outside of which people are standing and selling stuff. Also, people standing inside, talking, etc. Thank G-d not smoking anymore for the most part (after than ensued a conversation about how everyone used to smoke inside all the time, and how Reb Yoel Kan smoked during his shiurim so much that you had to open a window to breathe).

I commented that it was the same in the time of the Beis HaMikdosh, wasn’t it? People were selling livestock, food and other things right outside of Beis HaMikdosh. At which point someone commented that there is even a story with Yoshka about that (whether or not it’s true and whether it was an appropriate comment is another point), and the original speaker said: “Yes, the feeling of kedusha lost”.

Now, my question is not about the fact that the feeling of kedusha was lost, both in the times of the Beis HaMikdosh and around 770 today. I am wondering, however: is it so wrong to sell towels for the mikveh outside of mikveh or sell cattle for karbonos right outside Beis HaMikdosh? Isn’t that what creating dira b’tachtoinim all about — participating in the world? The guy selling towels is selling something you need for a mikveh; when you buy a towel from him, you allow him to earn livelihood (as opposed to schnor, which I suppose is a more stereotypical activity for a frum Jew nowadays), and since all of that is used for a holy purpose (going to a mikveh), what’s the problem?

I am also wondering whether there is a conflict of oiros vs. etzem in here. Experience vs. the essence. Which is interesting, because the same person told me that it is more chassidish to daven in a minyan, where you’re bottul to the fact that you need other nine men, vs. davening b’avoida, where it’s all about your own experience.

Obama in Hogwarts poll

Please participate in my first ever poll (on the right): Obama in Hogwarts.


(Picture just for illustration purposes. Please don’t be swayed by a particular House’s colors on this model.)

A new breed

Question of the day

Did the Avois and the Imois eat only Lubavitch shchita?

Make-believe

This is how what we, religious Jews, do looks to the secular Jews. And vice versa.

How Christianity was born

… literally. (Warning: somewhat R-rated.)

“Teen [alegedly] pregnant after swimming in a pool.”

I guess the whole “Holy Spirit did it” excuse has been so overused nobody would believe it anymore.

Regarding statistics

Introduction into the world of Go

Part I:



Part II:



Part III (after you’ve tried a game):

Surrounding children with holiness vs. accepting the truth wherever it comes from

I’ve been meaning to post this (and other things) for a while, but could not really find the time to do it. Something my rabbi said two Shabbosim ago.

We learn in Pirkei Avos: “Yehudah ben Tema said: Be bold as a leopard, light as an eagle, swift as a deer, and strong as a lion, to carry out the will of your Father in Heaven” (5:23). This is also quoted in Shulchan Aruch (both the regular one and Alter Rebbe’s) and explained and expounded upon in detail in many places. That’s not what I am going to write about.

At the same time, we know that the Rebbe started a “campaign” against little Jewish children having non-kosher animals in the images around them (on their cribs, their clothes, in their books) or as their toys. I am also not going to discuss this, where it is coming from, halachic and spiritual aspects of, etc., etc. There are those much more knowledgeable than me who have done this, and there are better places online and offline where this was discussed.

What I am interested in considering is something my rabbi said. One the one hand, the Rebbe was against spiritually unclean animals surrounding a young child. On the other, Shulchan Aruch and Pirkei Avos tell us to learn from non-kosher animals. What’s going on?

The answer is: “everything that Hashem created, He created for His glory.” And “just because fools worship, sun, moon and the stars, should Hashem destroy His Universe?” We can learn from anyone and from anything and utilize anything for the purpose of holiness. The Rebbe himself was incredibly emphatic on this point, and in my opinion no stream of thought inside or outside of Judaism emphasizes this idea better and clearer (very strongly but without shtus — unlike some other streams of thought) than Chabad. But — there is time and place for everything. Just because we need to be able to learn from unkosher animals and in general impure phenomena in the Universe does not mean they should surround little children.

Little children need to be surrounded by purity, holiness and Torah in its cleanest and most direct form. When they are older, and Torah has penetrated to (or rather revealed) their essence, they can learn from other things.

So, this is what my rabbi said. My question is: should the same philosophy, perhaps, be applied to chochmas chitzoinius (secular studies)? Specifically regarding children.

The world at peace and in balance

Click here to see a larger image. Trust me, in this case you want to.
Click here to buy a 22"+ screen.

A few things that jumped to my attention:

1. Soviet Union ate most of Europe (including East Germany) and Iran.
2. Despite United Europe, Ireland, UK and the Vikings (the countries which even today are reluctant to participate in European Socialism Project) are separate entities. As is Turkey, which even today does not fit with either Arabs or Europeans.
3. “Hebrew land”.
4. Screw Canada and Mexico. They should only be so happy to be part of the United States of America. Along with Greenland (which apparently no longer belongs to Denmark) and Iceland (which apparently is no longer part of Europe).
5. Albania and Greece are their own thing. What is it with liberal college professors (from Woody the Wilson on) trying to put the South European countries (Yugoslavia etc.) together? Get the hint already: there are about 200 nationalities in that little region, and the hate each other. Even people from the same village hate each other, let along from different ethnicities.
6. United Republics of China. Ha-ha.
7. I like the three major international unions. USSR — united by political ideology. USA — united by common economic interests. British Commonwealth — united by a desire to play cricket together.
8. Madagascar is part of the British Commonwealth, not African whachamacallit. “Arrr. There be pirrrrates there. We want them with us.”

Anything I am missing? Leave a comment.

Nabokov on the difference between Russian and English

I couldn’t find a translation, so I made an attempt at it myself. Which is somewhat ironic, given the content.

Scientific scrupulousness moved me to save in the Russian text the last paragraph of the above-mentioned American afterword, despite the fact that it can only throw into confusion a Russian reader, not remembering and not understanding and never having read the books of “V. Sirin” published abroad in the 20s and 30s. To my American reader I so strongly insist on the superiority of my Russian word over the English one that some Slavist may indeed think that my translation of Lolita is one hundred times better than the original. I, however, am at another time nauseous from the off-tuned braying of my rusty Russian strings. The history of this translation is one of disappointment. Alas, that “wondrous Russian language”, which, it seemed to me, was still waiting for me somewhere, flourishing as a sure spring behind strongly shut gates, to which I for so many years had had a key, turned out nonexistent, and behind the gates lay nothing but charred tree stumps and autumn hopeless horizon, while the key resembled more a lock pick.

I find consolation in thinking that awkwardness of the present translation is the fault not only of a translator grown foreign to his native tongue, but also of the spirit of the language into which the translation is made. During the half a year of working on Russian Lolita, not only did I discover losing many personal trinkets, unreconstructible language movements and treasures, but also came to certain general conclusions about mutual translatability of the two wondrous languages.

Body language, poses, landscapes, slumber of trees, smells, rains, melting and shapeshifting hues of the nature, all that is gentle and human (surprisingly!), and everything masculine, rough, juicily vulgar turns out in Russian just as good, if not even better than in English. But so common to English things subtle and unspoken, poetry of thought, immediate exchange between the most abstract ideas, scampering of one-syllable qualifiers — all this, as well as everything relating to technology, fashions, sports, natural sciences and unnatural urges — becomes in Russian shackled, multi-syllabled, and often disgusting in the sense of style and rhythm. This misstep reveals the difference in historical aspect between the green Russian literary tongue and over-ripe as a fig ready to burst at seams, English language: between an ingenious but still somewhat uneducated, and often having bad taste youth and a venerable genius, uniting in himself stocks of shiny knowledge with full liberty of spirit. Liberty of spirit! All breath of humanity is in these words.

What do I personally think? I think Nabokov is full of crap.

Fresh news

As a new study whose results are published by BBC reports, vegetarians are half as likely to develop cancer and one fifth as likely to catch the Mad Cow disease, but are four times as likely to commit suicide and develop chronic depression, in comparison to the normal people.

Mary Creedfort, an eighty-year-old lady from Brighton, says that in her long life the worst illness she’s ever had was chronic arthritis which has plagued her from her early 30s. “Not a single tumor, though. Well, not a malignant — that’s Latin for ‘bad’ — one. There was this growth I had on my neck which they had to remove — see, there is still a scar.” Looking back at her life, however, Mary says she does not have too many happy memories. Of course, this could be a result of memory loss associated with chronic stress, another problem strongly connected with long-term vegetarianism according to the new study.

In other news, Europeans are now allowed to sell ugly vegetables and fruit. Amongst the nations most welcoming the change were Ireland and Poland. French found the more relaxed standards disgusting — not only because their aesthetic feelings were insulted, but because a ban and a regulation (doesn’t really matter of what) has been lifted. “Tuh mahch fheedohm iz bed!” said Gustav, an Eiffel Tower elevator operator.

The Chinese are coming!

Everyone knows that Chinese are trying to take over the planet. And they are starting by striking into the heart of the Western Civilization — eggs. This web-site shows the steps of Chinese egg counterfeiting, now happening throughout the free French-toast– and omelet-eating world.

Metamorphoses

Buy it.

More of the same.

Yes, Russians are nuts. Sometimes it pays off.

Shabbos stream of consciousness: Shabbos Parshas Koirach, day

Continuation of the previous post. If there is something you don’t get, it’s because 1) it’s an inside joke, 2) you have no sense of humor, 3) you don’t get Russian situational humor. Just a reminder that the same initials do not mean the same people every time.

"Yiddishe gashmius iz ruchnius. Goyishe ruchnius iz gashmius. "

Lunch

S: shrug.
A: shrug, getting a cup.
S: "Wait, you haven't washed yet? I thought you did, and that's why you were being quiet."
A: "No, I just didn't want to talk to you. Come to think of it, that's a great way to avoid talking to someone: just pretend you just washed. Even in a random situation. Like in a car, with a wife: 'Honey, I am sorry, I can't talk anymore, I am about to wash.'"

Acid is not really super necessary for digestion. Just for creating pepsin, which is not even the main protease (an enzyme breaking down proteins); the main one is in the intestines. Also, acid is for protection against bacteria (that's how kids can eat all kinds of crap and not get sick) and beginning of breaking down.

Av: I don't think it's necessarily because of the peppers. Because Am. and S. were not in pain.
Sh.: Am. is just very big.
Av.: It has nothing to do with body size, it's just your stomach being irritated.
Sh.: If you poured a giant a small shot of mashkeh, he would not get drunk.
Al: If you poured S. a small shot of mashkeh, she would get drunk, and you wouldn't.
Sh.: Yeah, but that's because she is a girl.

Rabbi P.: "Last night I mentioned how with all due respect to the rabbi from Mayanot at the farbrengen, I did not feel love when in a yechidus with the Rebbe. I felt awe. When [the rebbetzin] and I got married — that's when I felt love. The chupah was after Minchah, and then we went into yichud, so I asked to knock on the door when it would be time for Ma'ariv. And so, then we were [standing] outside the Rebbe's door, waiting for him to come out. And when he came out, he said ['Mazal tov'] to me and ['Mazal tov'] to [the rebbetzin]. And that's where I saw the love: of a parent for children." [Changes in Italic made after an angry reprimand from the Rabbi about retelling a story about the Rebbe exactly as one had heard it.]

A.: "You look very British."
The guy: "British? Nobody has ever told me that."
A.: "Maybe it's because I am from Israel. In Israel, there are two types of people, Israelis and not Israelis."
The guy: "But then, I could also look Italian."
A.: "Yes, I guess one could also say you look a little Italian."
Me: "Did you think I looked Russian the first time we met?"
A.: "No!.."
Me: "Really?"
A.: "I think the first words I ever said to you were: 'Kak dela?' ['How are things?']"

Before Mincha:

S.: "Where were all the quippy remarks the whole Shabbos?"
A.: "I am learning how to keep my mouth shut."
S.: "Why? Nobody except the Rabbi likes that."

Earlier:

S.: "When did you get the braces?"
A.: "I've always had them. Just hid behind the mustache."
S.: "That is such b.s.!"

A little later: "Are they bothering you?"
A.: "No, just getting used to them."
S.: "You will get used to them eventually."
A.: "Hopefully in less time than it took me to get used to my prosthetic eleventh toe."

Sholosh seudos:

An Israeli girl (b'Ivrit): "When is the Shabbos over?"
[An exchange back and forth between her and Rabbi P.]
Rabbi P.: "Now you're just being a pushy Israeli woman. Be nice, like N."

A.: "My parents are French."
Me: "Does this mean you are French too?"
A.: "Well, I was born in Paris."
Me: "So, for sure you are French."
A.: "Yes, I am French."
Someone: "She is Jewish."
Rabbi P.: "I was waiting for someone to say that. Who said she was French? [Sees that it was me.] Vos hackstu chainik?"

Rabbi P. about Pirkey Avos: "What does 'ma'sim toivim' mean? Torah and mitzvos. So why are they called by such name? Because they are similar to even tov — a brilliant. A mitzva is precious by itself, but it must also shine. A diamond covered with dirt is precious, but it does not shine. It does not let light into the world. So, people can learn Torah and do mitzvos [which are valuable by themselves] but not change and become more and more arrogant. So, that is the advantage of going to a Chabad yeshiva: it will prevent that from happening."

Me: "You know, my rabbi from New Orleans is going to be there. I will give you his name."
A.: "I will call you from there."
Me: "There is no cell phone reception."
A.: "Oh, no!"
Me: "But there is a nice pool."
A.: "Oh, nice!"
Y.: "It's all slimy!"
Me: "Who cares? It has water."
A.: "Yeah, who cares?"

An Israeli girl (b'Ivrit): "I am craving nicotine." [That's why she was asking when Shabbos is over.]
A.: "When I am wrapping tefillin, I forget about cigarettes."

S.: "What will you do if someone offers you an apple?"
A.: "I will cut it in peaces, along the longitudes."
S.: "What if someone offers you a carrot?"
A.: "I will cut it in circles."
S.: "What if you are drinking a Coke with ice cubes inside?"
A.: "I never eat the ice cubes anyway."
S.: "You know which one is the worst? Corn on the cob. That's the worst."

Me: "No wake-up service today?"
Rabbi P.: "You did not ask."
Me: "A Jew needs to ask?"

A.: "What are you looking at?"
E.: "Three girls trying to parallel-park a car."
A.: "They look fine [as far as where the car is]."
E.: "They were fine half an hour ago."

Shabbos stream of consciousness: Shabbos Parshas Koirach, evening

All resemblance to real people may or may not be accidental. All initials may or may not correspond to real first, second, or third names (or hereditary titles); besides, they do not correspond to the same people every time. Thoughts (mine and those of others’), conversations, divrei Torah.

After Mincha: We do need a Moshe Rabbeinu. Just because we stood in front of Har Sinai together doesn't mean we can communicate with G-d ourselves as successfully. ("Yes, it reminds one of you-know-what. 'Everything was created in opposites.' Deal with it.")

After Ma'ariv: "I don't know half of you half as well as I should like, and I like less than half of you half as well as you deserve."

Dinner:

Rabbi P. [I am paraphrasing]: As he'd said in his e-mail, he was by a farbrengen in CH, where a rabbi who had never seen the Rebbe in his life was telling people about the greatness of the Rebbe. An amazing feeling. He also talked about the love felt during the yechidus. "I was not going to speak, but then he asked me to speak, so I said: you know, I've been to a yechidus with the Rebbe. When I was fourteen. And I did not feel love. I felt awe. I felt an overwhelming sense of awe. When you meet a person, you see him, his personality, character, history. When I saw the Rebbe, there was the sense of great Nothing. Just a source of pulsing power, of very direct purpose. He was there for a reason, and his whole life, his whole essence, his interaction with other Jews was geared towards that reason, that goal. And one was being overwhelmed by this [singular feeling] when standing in front of him."

A: "It's very strange to read the Rebbe talk about Moshe Rabbeinu and Korach. Because the Rebbe was the Moshe Rabbeinu of this generation, and he had his own personal Korach."

[The one for the day is long, so it will go in a separate post, next.]

Late-night thoughts on Gimmel Tamuz

It is warm outside, but in my mind and in my heart, this is what it feels the weather should be like tonight:


(Fontanka river; Petersburg, Russia)

To be followed by days of spring and summer, when the full strength of the sun and the moon will be revealed. But tonight it is like in the picture above.

Gimmel Tamuz

What can I say? Hardly anything original, what has not been said by someone else somewhere else already. So, I will just repeat what I have said before:

What is Chabad? Who is the Rebbe?

Sometimes people ask me, why I “chose” Chabad. Sometimes people ask me to tell them about Chabad philosophy and what makes it stand aside. Sometimes people ask me: “Who is the Rebbe? Tell me about the Rebbe.”

In reality, the three questions are one. The Lubavitcher Rebbe cannot be separated from Chabad Chassidus and his Chassidim; the latter cannot be separated from their Rebbe and his teachings; Chabad “philosophy” is one with the channel through which it was revealed in this world.

In reality, it is a very simply idea. Ein od milvado. There is nothing besides G-d. That is the beginning, that is the reality, that is the end, the destination. That is what all the world is about. That is what being a Jew is all about. And the Rebbe teaches us that, in detail, what it means, how we can achieve that, how we can live that and bring the world to realization and revelation of it. He teaches us through his life, through his Chassidus, through his relationship with the world and the Jews. In a very intellectual, very shocking, very serious, very profound and very human way.

This video says it all — what the Rebbe says in it is our reality, it is with us today, right now:



Another Jew’s reflections about the Rebbe — an article by Elie Wiesel, re-published at CrownHeights.info:

I will always remember my first visit to Lubavitch. It happened some thirty years ago. Though a Chasid of Wizhnitz, I had heard of Chabad and its renowned leader. A foreign correspondent for Israel's evening paper “Yediot Achronot,” I had thought of doing a story about the way Lubavitcher chasidim celebrate the liberation of the first — or the “Alter” — Rebbe, Rabbi Shneur Zalman of Liadi from Czarist prison. When I left in the early morning hours, I still belonged to Wizhnitz, but I was already caught by something or someone one finds only in Lubavitch.

I remember: in a “shul” that seems both huge and intimate, thousands and thousands of chasidim, young and old, from all over the world, are dancing vertically, as if not moving from their place, yet forcing their rhythm onto the entire universe.

Their eyes closed, they sing as only chasidim can. Ten times, fifty times, they repeat the same words, the same tune, and the song bursts their chests and lights a thousands flames in their eyes before rising higher and higher, up to the seventh heaven, if not higher, to the “Heichel hanegina,” source and sanctuary of all songs.

The center is the Rebbe. The Chasid in me looks at him with wonder. There is something melancholy and profoundly moving about his personality. Disturbing and reassuring at the same time. He feels what everyone here feels, he helps all attain the unattainable. In his presence, one feels more Jewish, more authentically Jewish. Seen by him, one comes in closer contact with one's own inner Jewish center.

Am unable to take my eyes off him. His gaze encompasses everyone and everything. I have rarely witnessed such control of and concern over such a large assembly. Thousands of eyes follow his most imperceptible movements. When he talks, everybody listens breathlessly, absorbing every word, every sigh. When he sighs, the whole world sighs with him and us.

I remember: hours long I stood there, at 770 Eastern Parkway, as in a dream, looking at the Rebbe who was looking at his followers. At times, he smiled and night vanished from their lives. There were moments when he seemed serious and somber. And, between songs, his fervent listeners trembled between fear and hope.

Suddenly I saw myself as a child again. Spending a Shabbat at the court of the Wizhnitzer Rebbe. There, too, the souls became strings and played ancient melodies. Yet here in Lubavitch it is different. The world is different. Countless invisible cemeteries separate the past from the present. In Lubavitch I think even about Wizhnitz in a different manner. What the Rebbe of Lubavitch is doing, what he is accomplishing here can be felt beyond Lubavitch.

This I came to understand much later. As I began traveling around the country, I discovered the Rebbe's emissaries in the most forsaken places. Were it not for them and their devotion, were it not for the mission entrusted onto them by the Rebbe, in the forty-two years of his leadership, who knows how many Jewish souls would have been lost to our people.

It is part of the Rebbe's greatness that he knows whom to send where and when. Not all their accomplishments have been made public. Some must remain secret. When they will be revealed — soon, I hope — they will surely increase the existing admiration for the Rebbe's vision.

Thus the Jewish people owe the Rebbe a great debt of recognition and gratitude. I do, too. I have learned much from Lubavitch in Lubavitch. Had I not participated in the “Chag HaGeula” of Chabad some thirty years ago, I wonder whether I would be who I am now.

More old stuff: “Uniqueness of Chabad Chassidus”.

French people

Fight duels in tights (and with ponytails) and make laptop–jet combinations:

Tomorrow we will have to be better

A very nice post from Rabbi Oliver — “Chabad: A Constant Yearning for Inner Change”.

I have already told what the chossid, Reb Gershon Dov [of Pahar], would often say after lengthy meditation, for he had tremendous ability for deep concentration. After the evening prayer and reciting the Shema upon retiring, which would often turn out to be in the late hours of the winter nights, [he could be overheard saying to himself]: “Do you hear, Gershon Ber? We have to wake up completely different.”

Once at a Shabbos dinner, I was asked what being frum means. Before I could answer, a rabbi (who was also a gabbai and a part-time sniper) sitting not far away answered (in Israeli-British accent): “Being frum is all about the direction in which you’re walking. It means tomorrow you are a little better than today.”

For a chossid, being frum means seeing more and more of G-d in the world, in Torah and in one’s everyday life. Not just “seeing” theoretically or intellectually, but also in the realm of action.

What mormons believe

No comments.

Ferrofluids

Reference: “Ferrofluids”.

Valse grotesque

Surfing in Siberia

By Red Elvises:

Month of May

A musical video by Garik Sukachyov. The music I like, but the video is also very cute… For Americans: to battle some stereotypes about Russians.

Garage

Even without knowing English, this movie is brilliant to watch. A slice of Russian society, from intelligentsia to bydlo. And from bureaucrats to academicians.

Scenes from the movie:

Four places for “cooperative garage” need to be reduced. “After careful considerations”, the names are read.

— Four is better than five. But worse than three.

— To disagree with the governing board is the same as… spit against wind.

— Why are you raising both hands?
— If I was wearing pants, I would raise both legs too.

The best part is when one man says that he “sold the Motherland for a car” (and his neighbors move away from him). After which he explains that he meant that he sold his family country house (and his neighbor moves back).

Voting:

— Well, it’s not my fault that I am his son. One does not choose his parents, although I personally have no problems with mine. And what is your name?
— Marina. But I beg you: don’t tell me your first name. In my memory you shall always remain as “the son of Milosyerdov”. This is the romantic spirit of our times.

Locked — my favorite part of the movie:

— I know everything about you. You probably graduated from the Department of International Relations.
— Nope.
— Eastern Languages?
— Missed again.
— Well, then cinematography.
— No, you’re following a standard. You think just because I am “the son of Milosyerdov”, I am studying something in fashion.
— Don’t tell me you’re a plumber.
— Well, now you’re being dramatic. No, my profession is an archeologist. I am not too interested in the present, more in the past. What about you, a professor’s daughter?
— In my life everything is cliché. I studied in the Department of Linguistics — you know what they call it, department of brides. Now I am studying literature.
— Ours or foreign?
— Ours.
— From 19th century?
— No, modern.
— You have an interesting profession: you study that which does not exist.

— While I am here locked, she will marry somebody else. I know her.

Corpse in the living room; a girl’s best friend

Norvezhskiy-Lesnoy says: “Did you ever receive a call from a girl asking you for help with getting rid of a corpse in the living room? I did.”



The text message says: Sweetie, I killed the little fish. I am so sorry :(

This is a second post from the series called “Girl’s Best Friend”. The first one featured this photo:



The sign says: “A girl’s best friend is a fish!” It proceeds to list in a smaller font all the important nutrients found in fish. Just an FYI from Moscow Department of Health (as it says at the top of the sign). Taxpayers’ money put to good use.

The great trio

Excerpts from the cartoons based on the three books which were part of the green book that I would read while being sick (or when I just felt like reading it):

Number odin:

— I am a wolf. A wolf of a free tribe. My prey will be your prey.
— A brave heart. And a polite speech.

Number dva:

— Whom are we going to?
— You of course. … By the way, do you have anything to eat?
— I have another baloon.
— Maybe we will not go as guests to you. Because then I will be a guest, and you will not be one…

— Is anyone home?.. I said: “IS ANYONE HOME?”
—No there is not. And no need to yell. I heard well enough the first time.

“Congealed” — or “dense” — milk (consistency of caramel, but tastes better):



Number tri (my favorite of the three), with subtitles:

— Mom, when my brother grows old and dies, will I have to marry his wife?
— Why?..
— Well, I wear his old clothes, ride his bycicle…
— I promise you that I will rid you of his wife.
— Oh, that’s nice. Although, I have to say that I would much rather prefer a pet dog to a wife.

In retrospect, it is a bit creepy (the story, not marrying one’s sister-in-law). But then again, if I didn’t notice how creepy Brothers Grimm were, no wonder I was fine with this…

Wolf Hunt

A poem and a song by Vladimir Vysotsky.



From “Vysotsky in Different Tongues” (to see the lyrics, click on the Russian name on the right):

I rush out of my skin, out of sinews,
I’m again in the scrape with no rest;
I am chased; deadly chasing continues,
Hunters sighting their guns at my breast.

From behind pines the barrels are rumbling -
Hunters ambushing there in the shade,
On the snow wolves are helplessly tumbling,
Now they’re targets of blood and flesh made.

It is wolf hunting in full swing, it is wolf hunting!
Today the whole pack of wolves is doomed to die!
Shrill hunters’ shouting, dogs vomiting from barking,
Blood on the snow and bloody flags¹ that blind the eye!

Games they’re playing with us are not fair -
Our freedom is flagged from each flank;
And without turning a hair
With a firm hand they shoot us point blank.

We’ve got jaws, strong and full of desire,
Old leader, can you tell us then,
Why we frantically rush under fire,
And we never jump over the ban?

It is wolf hunting in full swing, it is wolf hunting!
Today the whole pack of wolves will soon be dead!
Shrill hunters’ shouting, dogs vomiting from barking,
Blood on the snow and bloody flags that drive me mad!

“Wolves must not ever break with tradition!
‘Cause the blind, newly born, in the den,
We, the cubs, sucked our mother’s nutrition
And we sucked in: ‘Don’t dare jump the ban!’”

Wolves must not break the rule - never wrest it!
Now I see that my time’s almost gone,
And the hunter to whom I am destined
Sneers wryly and raises his gun...

It is wolf hunting in full swing, it is wolf hunting!
Today the whole pack of wolves will soon be dead!
Shrill hunters’ shouting, dogs vomiting from barking,
Blood on the snow and bloody flags that drive me mad!

I got rid of obedience and fear -
Jumped the flags! Thirst for life made me fast!
And behind me I was glad to hear
Cries of people, abashed and aghast!

I rush out of my skin, out of sinews,
But today not as ever before!
I am chased and the chasing continues -
But the hunters will get me no more!

It is wolf hunting in full swing, it is wolf hunting!
Today the whole pack of wolves is doomed to die!
Shrill hunters’ shouting, dogs vomiting from barking,
Blood on the snow and bloody flags that blind the eye!

_____________
¹ An old Russian technique of wolfhunting is to encircle the spot where a wolf is with a rope, tied up to the surrounding trees. On this rope there are red flags or cloth strips. A wolf never crosses red flags.

A cartoon about socialist architecture, Irony of Fate

Pretty self-explanatory. A prelude to probably the most famous Soviet movie (watched still every year every late December), Irony of Fate.



I will just say from myself that this shows not only socialist architectural designs, but also general socialist mode of thinking.

An episode (some slightly untznius scenes) from the Irony of Fate: two of the characters (who are only 90% drunk) put a wrong friend (of the remaining two, who are 110% drunk) on a plane to Petersburg. He calls a taxi, names his address (in Moscow) and is driven to the same address in Petersburg, to an apartment, to which his keys fit. (Both apartment buildings are brand new and have the same, standard locks which have not been changed yet.) And then the real owner of the apartment arrives…



I can’t resist and post two more clips, when the hero of the movie is discovered by the heroine in her apartment, drunk (yes, I know, such a Russian plot):



… and the heroine’s groom arrives:

Regarding Mr. Sanders

A little outdated, but still apropos (text edited out a bit to make it more PG-13). Click on the picture to see a larger version (does anyone who reads blogs not know this yet?):



“Who is Mr. Sanders”, you ask? Why, it’s Mr. Pooh’s real name.