EACH PERSON’S PERCEPTION OF TRUTH is different. This one has a broader outlook, this one a narrow outlook. But the sincerity of each one’s devotions is all that counts.”
— Reb Nosson: Plato to Rebbe Nachman’s Socrates
Tag: arm’s length
Because the word “community” is over-used.
A Talmud of Civility
When faced with [a piece or opinion of Torah] that is on its face absurd or contradictory, the rabbis do not dismiss it, but actively work to understand it. What would it look like for us, when someone says something apparently illogical and absurd, to assume that they are making some kind of internal sense and actually thoughtfully work to understand their reasoning?”
— Sara Ronis, “A Daily Dose of Talmud (Pesachim 78),” @myjewishlearning.com
“That is the Order of Things”
BEING A NERD ISN’T ABOUT the things you love — it’s about the way you love them.”
— Wil Wheaton
Jedi Wisdom
OVERHEARD IN THE GROCERY CHECKOUT line, the following exchange between tall father and fidgety small son:
SS (holding a 2021 Star Wars calendar): Look! It’s Darth Vader. And Luke Skywalker.
TF: Luke is a Jedi, right?
SS: Right.
TF: Jedi are very patient. Do you know what Luke does every morning?
SS: What?
TF: He takes deep breaths.
SS: Oh.
TF: Will you take five deep breaths with me so we can be patient too?
SS: [unintelligible]
TF: …how about three breaths?
Writers’ Blocking
If my audience will feel that these interpretations are also relevant to their perceptions and emotions, I shall feel amply rewarded. However, I shall not feel hurt if my thoughts will find no response in the hearts of my listeners.”
— Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik, The Lonely Man of Faith
VOTE.
I MAY LOSE SOME FRIENDS by saying this, but: It’s no longer Republican v. Democrat — it’s fascist v. patriot. Choose accordingly. (And if you’re in the mood for an escapist polemic, have at.)
11/8 UPDATE: !!!!!
Disposathon!
SPEAKING FROM EXPERIENCE: IT IS easier to get rid of everything in one big purge than a few things in a bunch of smaller ones.
The time: June 1985. Hopped-up on Jack Kerouac’s On the Road and The Dharma Bums, I aimed to do a bit of my own road scratching of experience-itchy soles. So I bought some necessaries, stuffed them into a backpack, and invited my friends to a giveaway-the-rest party. The reserves (my great-grandfather’s holy books, my birth certificate, a deck of Tarot cards, a loaded pipe, and such) went into two small boxes destined for a trusted friend’s garage. When I returned a year later, they were waiting to greet me like cardboard puppies. Continue reading “Disposathon!”
Prosatio Silban and the Sudden Feline
(Three printed pages. If you’re new to these tales, here are the preface and introduction.)
IT BEGAN WITH AN ALMOST automatic kindness, and led to an inevitable but gracious end.
Prosatio Silban was tidying up after a somewhat slow morning when he first heard the mewing. His galleywagon was parked in the marketplace at Rathlu, the centermost of the Thousand Villages of the Uulian Commonwell. He was standing at the sink; one by one the beefy cook selected plates, bowls and cutlery from a small pile of dirty dishes; passed them through a large, teak-mounted voonith-bone hoop; and stacked the now-clean ones on the adjacent counter. I almost feel guilty using magik instead of water, he thought, seeing how there are so few of these. Still, it’s a relaxing noonday ritual.
He cocked an ear at the open half-door. Rathlu was known for its robust feline population, and the cats he had seen that day were magnificent specimens of their secretive race: cats large and small, black, grey, striped, yellow, and white, all sleek with loving care and lavish feeding. His favorites were the tiger-stripeds, and when he opened the door’s lower half, a smile lit his face. Before him sat an ancient grey-and-brown tabby, looking up at him with one golden eye; the other was a filmed-over blue. Continue reading “Prosatio Silban and the Sudden Feline”
Boulevard of Broken Animals
FIRST, THERE WAS THE ONE-legged California towhee.
She didn’t actually start out as one-legged. But when we first noticed her in the backyard, one of her legs was badly withered. It eventually dropped off. We named her “Tikvah” — Hebrew for “hope” — and loved her for some years from afar.
After she died came the one we called “Noisy Evans.” California towhees (Melozone crissalis) are known by their one-note “pipping” calls as well as a rapid cascade that conjures up images of an ice-crystal fountain. Continue reading “Boulevard of Broken Animals”
The Mask by the Side of the Road
SONOMA IS A SMALL TOWN: small enough to be intimate, but also large enough to have its share of common human misbehaviors.
Take the occasional gutter-detritus. The first time I saw an empty bottle dumped near a Sonoma curb by an unseen hand, I was surprised (and a little delighted) to see that it once held a rare French wine rather than the malt liquor I had come to expect in more urban settings. Over the years I have witnessed a variety of dry-land jetsam: smoked-oyster tins; car keys; take-out containers from upscale restaurants; and once, a $20 bill. But in the past two weeks (at this writing, 8/4/20), I have been happening on objects more timely and topical — viz., abandoned COVID-19 masks. Continue reading “The Mask by the Side of the Road”
Highways and Thyways
The road to a friend’s house is never long.”
— Dave Chavoya
Why I Love: My Dad
