Only in New York, Kids

Last night, I attended a program run by Yeshivat Chovevei Torah at OZ in memory of R' Mordechai Breuer. It was quite nice, and the main event was a speech by R' Leiman, who was fantastic as always. After Maariv, I walked to the subway, and passed the Second Presbyterian Church on Central Park West, right above the station. On the black announcement board, in the largest of those white letters, was a notice that made me crack up right there on the street, hopefully not alarming the nearby Manhattanites waiting for a bus too unduly:

CHRISTOPHER HITCHENS
DOESN'T KNOW WHAT HE'S TALKING ABOUT

Now, this being a mainline (I assume) Protestant church on the Upper West Side, my first thought might be that they were attacking him over his views on the Islamic Menace. (In fact, because of the break between lines, my very first impression was that he was, in fact, speaking at the church, not too illogical considering the drift of these places.) But I have to be dan l'kaf zekhut: Hitchens is notorious at the moment for his latest book, a defense of his atheism, a fact likely well known to the denizens of Upper Manhattan, and I imagine the church was attacking that view with their pithy statement.

A defense of God on an Upper West Side Presbyterian church? Surely the herald of another one of America's periodic Great Awakenings! Hallelujah!

Mstislav Rostropovich, RIP

Mstislav Rostropovich, the famed cellist, has died, z'kan u'seva yamim. In my mind, it's one of the little ironies of history that he died only a few days after Boris Yeltsin. To me, the two names will always be linked because of their actions during the coup attempt of 1991, and more specifically the account in Reader's Digest that thrilled me a few months later. (I still have a copy.) Yeltsin's role is well known, of course. Rostropovich, in Paris at the time, settled his affairs (like many, he expected a bloody crackdown), got on a plane, charmed his way past passport control (or whatever it's called there), and went straight to the Russian Parliament's "White House" where the opposition had massed. He spent the rest of the time speaking live and on air and visiting, hugging, and giving encouragement to the protesters outside.

I remember one detail in particular from the story: When the man assigned to protect him fell asleep on his shoulder late one night, Rostropovich was left holding his machine gun. There's even a picture of it. After the coup had ended, his erstwhile bodyguard accompanied him to the airport to see him off. "Yuri, my friend," Rostropovich said, hugging him goodbye, "When you slept I held your machine gun. Come visit me in Paris, and when I sleep, you shall hold my cello."

Leaving aside his considerable accomplishments in music, that's a claim to immortality right there. R.I.P.

Ani V'Rochev Al Chamor

A parsha sheet I've been seeing for a while is now coming out in English. This past week, it contained a line that made me laugh. In bringing to life the situation of having one's house fall victim to tzara'at, it describes the actions of the owner thusly:

During that tense week, the man pleased with Hashem: "Ribbono Shel
Olam, make the stain disappear, like it came."

OK, so "Ribbono Shel Olam" is a post-Biblical phrase, and they'd more likely have used the actual name of God. But I digress.

He ran to tzadikim for brachos, contributed money to tzedaka, fasted and did teshuva.

(Why no italics on the last word?) That's when I lost it. Let's leave aside the question of whether the phenomenon ever occurred, and the more philosophical question of how it can be considered a punishment if (as inevitably happens in these stories) they find a treasure in the walls: The simple fact is that an Israelite of the era would have been more likely to visit his local idol than engage in the anachronistic practice of running to "tzadikim" for "brachos". (Which, of course, is questionable period, but, again, I digress.)

As I considered it, and in light of the fact that today is Yom Ha'atzmaut, it occurred to me that the same people who read present phenomena into the past so readily are the last that would update any old assumptions or ideas in light of recent events or situations. (Hence the title, mavin yavin for now.) Ah well. Moadim L'Simcha.

The Bard's Birthday

It's Shakespeare's birthday! Celebrate by watching this.

Chag Kasher V'Sameach!

To all my peeps, especially my far-flung siblings- missing you all, having you all in mind!

After all that time, five words to describe it

Tonight I went to a comedy club with some friends to see an old college buddy perform. At the end of the regular acts, they introduced Darrell Hammond, of Saturday Night Live (he does Clinton, Cheney, and so on), to do a set.

Toward the end, he asked the audience what had been in the news today. (He'd just gotten off a plane, apparently.) A few people yelled, "Scooter!" "What?" "Scooter Libby! Guilty!"

He answered, "Oh, really?" Big pause, then, completely deadpan: "What was he charged with?"

I think those last five words, intentionally or not, sum up the entire case perfectly. It'd be funny if it wasn't so sad.

Golden Domes

Well, it's been a busy February for me. (And it's still got some ways to go!) And, to be perfectly honest, a big percentage of what kept me busy had to do with my alma mater. Yeah, sometimes people (a person?) teases my over-enthusiasm for YU. But can I help it? They really pulled something good off this month- well, all the time, I guess, but here I got to participate. Centered around the Sefarim Sale (winding down in a few minutes, so if you haven't been there, get moving- beam over if need be), once again a happy opportunity to part with my money- numerous times- were the premiere of the movie on the Rav, which is a great accomplishment and which was presented in a well arranged evening; R' Rakeffet's first speech uptown in a while, in which yours truly is mentioned in passing; a visit to the Wittenberg wrestling tournament to see some cousins; and a special Alumni Night at the Sale, which ended grandly as the result of a chance encounter. I'd already gotten all the books I wanted, so I got some YU ties and other merchandise. One of the salesmen got my number right away and offered me a bunch of YU books- which I already had, of course. Golden domes...

And, of course, Kollel Yom Rishons (and shiurim from R' Leiman, and more) scattered throughout. You can read a quote from me about KYR here. And although I might seen like a good Epikoros (eh, I shouldn't brag: an Am Ha'aretz) here and on other blogs, I mean that bit about the goodness of Torah. Maybe I'm going soft (or good, take your pick). And, of course, as this entry makes clear, the bit about alumni relations is heartfelt as well. I even bumped into Richard Joel at the Kollel, and again at the Sale, this Sunday, and while I got to tell him that it was good to see him there, I'd have liked to have give him a "Shkoyach" for everything. Instead, I got one (long story). Ah well.

Anyway, it all leaves me in too good a mood for a rant. (I think I see the Chofetz Chaim smiling over my shoulder.) I'll restrict those to other blogs. (He's frowning.) Better, I might just continue my practice of ceasing to read blogs that can make me mad. (Smiling again- whew!)

And so I'm closing out a nice long weekend (yay for taking holidays off, for once!) watching The Lord of the Rings, for some reason. When watching the opening of the first movie, I often wonder about the reactions of people who were big fans before Peter Jackson came around (I myself only read the books later). I know it gets to me. Viggo Mortensen has a weird nasal tone during the Council scene, by the way. And, for the first time, I wonder why no one noticed all the building going on in Mordor, especially considering that you can see it from Gondor. Oh well.

And I'm watching YouTube videos of Denny Crane as well. Shat rocks. And, speaking of YouTube (they've proved that they merit the CamelCase, a rarity on this blog), here's one of the funniest things I've ever seen. I think the only proper response to the last line is, "Um, nope. That pretty much sums it up." I do wonder if Dinesh D'Souza, himself a Dartmouth alum, would see this as yet another "indictment of our entire American society", another reason to dump Israel and adopt Sharia. (No one's really mentioned the Israel angle in all the critiques.) Actually, I don't much care.

Oh, and a mini-celebration that I'll soon be paying my taxes, which is pitiful, but hey. It's good to be high on life. Onward and upward through February! Warmer weather ahead!

You Know You've Got Phasers Set to "Trekkie" When...

...you go to an exhibit of Star Trek merchandise at a museum and discover that you've got an unnaturally large number of the items behind glass in your closet. And kick yourself because you once had more that you got rid of.

And, well, spend your time seeing if you can identify every one of the hundreds of action figures on display, mentally correcting mistakes made or blanks left by the museum and/or the manufacturers in labelling or production.

The best part was an unlicensed button reading, "Mr. Wesley Crusher, please report to the airlock." The museum wrote, "Date unknown"; I would place it at any point after Encounter at Farpoint.

On a completely different topic, in the latest Tradition, R' Carmy writes a sentence beginning thusly: "If one must talk (and talking is, of course, what many of us do for a living)..."

You gotta love that "us." More to the point, it (and, come to think, much of the previous issue as well) reminds me of Dick Armey's axiom about how "You don't have to be one of the seven 'talking professions' to make trouble, but it helps." Now if only I could find a list of what those seven were...

"We'll tak a cup o' kindness yet..."

From the Norton Anthology's biography of Robert Burns:

Burns is not only the national poet of Scotland but a song writer for all
English-speaking people. Wherever in the world they may be on New Year's Eve,
when, helped by drink and the reminder of their bondage to time, men and women
indulge in their instinct of a common humanity, they join hands and sing a song
of Burns.

Me, I was in bed at midnight. Exciting. (Come to think, the rest of the day was interesting and enjoyable, so that's OK.) But I appreciate the sentiment. (And that's the second New Year's running I've quoted that song in the title of the post.) Even though I missed their event last night, I do hope I can catch something of Gilbert & Sullivan this season. And, for that matter, Coliseum Books before they close, and the model trains at the Transit Museum Annex. (Hmm. I was just at the main branch, but it's looking interesting too.) Busy January, I hope!

On a completely different note, I was reading a bit of R' Schachter's MiPininei HaRav yesterday, and came across this at the end of an anecdote:

('שמעתי מרכ”ב, שיחי)

You gotta love rabbinic writing, huh? Unless you knew (from its being told elsewhere, by the source) that said source is R' Kenneth Brander, and unless you knew that "Kenneth" is, in fact,"כתריאל”, wouldn't you be lost?

2007

"Should it be 'Barech aleinu shana tova'?" I asked someone in shul after Avinu Malkeinu this morning. "Are you sure it isn't 'Chadesh aleinu shana tova'?"

It took him a minute to get it. Well, it is a fast day (and it's a bit of a heretical notion). Have an easy fast, everyone, and a Happy and Healthy New Year!

Small Favors

God bless Gerald Ford, R.I.P. A great man.

But one thought occurs to me as I listen to his funeral- it's a good thing Richard Nixon (not to mention Pat) is dead and buried, or, to use the old Yiddish joke, all these references to how much Ford was "needed" after the...unpleasantness would've killed him. Kind of reminds me of Nancy Reagan's famous "Kinder and gentler than who?" remark.

Now I'm having uncharitable thoughts about other recent occupants of the Oval Office and any posthumous demands they might have. Ah well, history will judge.

"Then what's that I smell floatin' down from the North-"

"-could it be the aroma of hy-pocrisy?"

Well, first things first. As that line would indicate, I finally got the 1776 DVD. Now, I've seen "Cool, Cool Considerate Men" before (on Broadway), and it's a great song, and I'm not in favor of censorship or anything, but I can definitely see why Nixon didn't like it. Maybe it's my imagination, but the goose-stepping and "heil"ing at the end are a bit much, and the National Anthem reference at the beginning is a bit uncalled for.

Anyway, the disc is great, highly recommended. Still haven't gotten to the special features, but that always takes me a while, if ever.

Now as to why I chose that quote: The aroma of hy-pocrisy is certainly drifting down thick from New England these days. Any other time, I'd say the Massachusetts high court decision not to require a vote of the legislature is an unexpected triumph of the rock-solid principle of separation of powers, etc. etc. But when it was that very same high court that ordered gay marriage in the first place- ordered, in fact, the legislature to pass it- stepping over its bounds in more ways than one- then this decision looks not only cowardly, but hypocritical as well.

Eh. The only branch of government in that state that doesn't come out of this stinking is the executive, in the form of Governor Romney, which, not coincidentally, was the only branch not to have anything to do with the mess in the first place.

Oh- good to be back! Mmmm, pretty new Blogger. Sometimes upgrades are worth it.

Giving Thanks

(I had to flip the words, at least- can't have the same title twice!)

It's still Thanksgiving Weekend, right? At least for a few more hours, even if I sleep through them. So: No rants, no negatives. Let us give thanks, and links:

-For O. Henry's wonderful language, and for the thrills of recognition of the details of Old New York, still around a hundred years later, that he unknowingly provides.

-For Mark Steyn, somewhat more depressing, but whose felicitous turns of phrase are just as enjoyable. (One does wonder at the sheer stupidity and self-destructiveness of actors. Ah well.)

-For our troops, making it all possible, and keeping to tradition in an untraditional age. See the photos as well.

-For all the people who made this weekend so great, especially Ms. Beck, for the dinner invite, and Rav K., who arranged for it. In fact, for all my friends, acquaintances, and family, about none of whom do I have the slightest reason to complain. Throw in some kudos for some good shiurim and some good movies, and we have good times all around.

Nice to have a positive post. I guess I'll have to struggle to bounce back to ranting from this sunny mood, but I'll try. (Lord knows I have topics.) Perhaps, please God, I'll have even more reasons to stay happy, and won't even bother. As always, till then!

Happy Thanksgiving!

Out of the blue, a good friend asked (to my everlasting shame) when I'm going to post something new. Oh, I've got stuff- some serious, some, not so much. Just not much time lately. But a nice long weekend is coming up, and perhaps I shall be able to post then. In the meantime, have yourselves a great Thanksgiving, enjoy- and, most importantly, give thanks!

Salad Days

Back when I was at university...all right, sorry, back when I was in college, I became (thanks to a roommate of a friend) a big fan of Spy Magazine. (Warning: Scroll-down NSFW.) What a great publication! I must have started reading it in about 1995, and bought every issue from about a year after that. I still have them, years after I got rid of most of my other magazines. Then, in early 1998, it stopped appearing. I remember seeing the last issue, with JFK Jr. on the cover, on the stands for quite a while, as if they were waiting for the next issue, which never came. Much later, I was IMing with Mugger, of the New York Press, and thought to ask him about it. He told me that they'd stopped publishing and why- something to do with the magazine market being in a slump around then. (Interestingly, I think it's his review, for the New York Sun most likely, of a posthumous biography of John-John that I tucked into that last issue.)

Anyway, last week I saw a note in the paper that a new book, "Spy: The Funny Years", had been published, and the authors were speaking about it, unfortunately on a Friday night. Earlier this week, I was in Barnes & Noble and chanced across it- a nice big coffee-table book, 'tis being the season for coffee-table books. "The Funny Years", apparently, are 1986-1991, after which the founding editors, authors of the book, sold the magazine and, soon after, left it. There's even a spread inside the back cover showing the covers of every single issue of Spy, and there's a break at one point with an arrow indicating as "The Funny Years" all the issues before the break.

Turns out the magazine had folded and restarted just around the time I started reading it, and the subsequent issues and even many preceding (according to the authors, who, of course, are very likely biased) were nowhere near the quality of what came before. And here I thought it was among the funniest stuff I've seen! There's worlds to be discovered out there, not that I'm too interested in "The Funny Years."

The local Barnes & Noble, by the way, has finally lined up their flags the way I wanted them to, nice and symmetrical. (And no, I didn't tell them.) Good for them.

And I have my paper poppies, but no lapel to wear them in. A moment for our vets, God bless them.

Biased, Or Just Plain Ig'nint?

Well, that was certainly expected, if not desired. So this morning, CBS radio merrily informs me that the last time Congress changed hands was in 1994, "In an anti-incumbent surge just like this one."

Well, if they're talking about incumbents in Congress, that's just wrong. The big anger against those had peaked a few years earlier, and to no effect, as I wrote a few days back. And if they mean Clinton, that's plain ridiculous. Clinton was quite popular, coasted to reelection, and would remain so popular through all the scandals that would follow that he would've been reelected yet again if he had been allowed to.

Why did the Republicans win in '94? Simple: They had a clear-cut, popular, conservative agenda (which they delivered on) all mapped out. The Democrats, in 2006, have no such thing.

And, in fact, that's one silver lining for me. With no agenda, hopefully they'll be able to do little to no damage in two years. (And, of course, George W. Bush is thankfully still president.)

Note that I, ever the optimist, said two years. One good thing I've kept in mind ever since 1994 is how that election disproved any idea (believed somewhat before then by all) that any party "owns" Congress. (Republicans, alas, seemed to forget this in only twelve years, while Democrats, in power much longer, also seem to be unable to absorb it.) So how's that for another silver lining? Maybe the equally agenda-less Republicans will see how they have to wise up now. I doubt it- politicos are politicos-but one can always hope. (JPod makes a related point here.)

So silver linings there are, all well and good. (One particularly delicious one is the loss of Chafee, who probably would've switched anyway. As Mark Steyn pointed out here in his usual felicitous manner, "If only 100 citizens from a population of 300 million get to be senators, Lincoln Chafee should not be among them.") However, all those silver linings have a very dark cloud indeed: This isn't 1994, or 2000. As I wrote below, we have enemies who want to kill us (and quite a few others), and they watch the news- and they know what happened, even if the Democrats stop with the infantile behavior. So you'll forgive me if, among all the smiles and linings, I show a bit of gloom now and then. We will see what happens. Happier post next time, I hope!

Election Day

So after yesterday's post, I open today's paper to discover that there's a special screening, with Q&A from all the leads, at Lincoln Center tonight. I went online to see if tickets were for sale. Oh, yes: for ninety bucks. Fuggedaboudit. I'll just buy an already overpriced ticket at the theater. And the DVD, 'cause that's who I am. I wonder if, like there was the complete concert on the last Guest movie, there'll be the complete movie on this disc. I doubt it, for a number of reasons. (Like, if you could make an actual Oscar-winning film, you would. Although I hear people are already talking about O'Hara.) I do note that in each movie, the characters seem to be successively higher on the "fame" ladder. Probably doesn't mean anything, but it's a thought.

Eh. Too tired anyway. I'd like to go to Stern tonight, hear this speech on Kohen genetics, maybe ask some embarrassing questions about Jewish genetics in general, but...so tired. Maybe it's my eye, my zero-free-time schedule, I dunno.

Voted today! With brother Sam right behind, and Pat right ahead! Of course, all the local offices were uncontested. The Queens County Republicans are always inviting me to their dinners, but they never seem to actually, y'know, run any candidates. Well, less levers for me to pull. Still never pulled one for a Democrat.

"For Your Consideration"

I knew it was coming out, and, of course, am planning on seeing it, but just seeing the poster for the new Christopher Guest movie on a construction site fence this morning was enough to bring a smile to my face.

Want to join me? Leave a comment.

Remember, Remember...

...the Fifth of November...

Well, not for the famous reason: This is an American blog. But Happy Half-Birthday wishes to a former (?) reader of this blog, belated birthday wishes to my brother, estimated birthday wishes (I don't know the exact date, tsk, tsk) to one of my brothers-in-law (come to think, the other's birthday is around this time as well), and slightly-premature wishes to someone who probably doesn't even know this blog exists.

Wow! Lots of reasons to be happy, including a very nice Kollel Yom Rishon today. So let's have a little rant:

There's a popular sheet distributed called "MeOrot MeHaDaf Yomi," which is exactly what its title says it is. This week, they have a full page advertising a new book they have out about Shabbat. Here's a picture from the book they use in the advert, twice because my photography ain't so good:

Yeah, it's a family sitting around a Shabbos table in der Heim. Father, random dude (Oyrech?), son. Notice anyone missing? Oh, yeah, a mother. There is a vague humanoid shape in the shadows at the left (of course, since the candles are at that end of the table, that should be the most lit area) which, I think, we can safely assume is the woman of the house, the She who must Not Be Seen.

No, I don't think I'm being paranoid. This is, I'm afraid, par for the course in Charedi publications today. Chassidim especially have, shall we say, a somewhat odd view on the image of women, and it seems like even the velt has a right shoulder to look over. For example: A set of "Mitzvah Cards" recently was released, I think to tie in to the "Encyclopedia of the Taryag Mitzvoth" that is now being published. My rabbi happened to have the one for Sippur Yetziat Mitzrayim- in two versions. One showed a yeshivish father, in a hat (like anyone wears one at the seder, but we'll let that go) and beard (natch), merrily explaining the Haggadah to his son and daughter. The other had the same picture, except the hat had become a shtreimel, the beard and payot were longer, and the daughter...had been replaced with another boy. After all, who knows what znut the tayereh kinder might be driven to if they see a drawing of a little girl on a card.

And, of course, it's much worse. A little while back, one of those "Help a family in need" letters (I think this one was an insert) went around. (The actual narratives usually make me quite mad in and of themselves, but once again we can let that pass.) Very slick, color photos of the family in question. Except all the women's faces had been pixellated out. Even the babies, although how they know the gender is beyond me. (Something similar happened when they reprinted The Bamboo Cradle.) I kid you not. After all, who knows where it can all lead? Who knows where our society will be if we allow women who write for Charedi newspapers (and books, etc.) to use their first names instead of an initial? (Never mind that the same society is the very one that, perversely and yet logically, requires those women and not their spouses to work, among other mishegas, but yet again we'll let that go.)

Well, I guess I should be grateful that all this is is a pandering (for money?) to the lowest (and I do mean lowest) common denominator (I hope), and it's not, say, Iran or the Taliban. Problem is, as Europe is finding out, you start by pandering and pretty soon they want to take over. Look at the streets of Jerusalem.

Eh. Enough Charedi-bashing. The latest issue of Tradition only serves to remind me that we MO don't have much to brag about either. It's one of my "statement" subscriptions, but this issue has me wondering about even that. Too much ranting here- maybe another time. Or maybe I'll just stick to Sherlock Holmes next time. There's always plenty there!

Have a great week, all!

More so than the wind...

...the cold weather, the end of the Chagim, the beginning of Cheshvan and Tachanun, or the end of daylight time, it's when things get temporarily just a bit warmer is when you know winter is nigh (even if it's a few months from now). Said a woman on the elevator, "It feels like Monday morning every day." Replied I, "Yeah, especially when it is."

Forgive me if I don't believe anything on the news anymore. The latest breathless report has something to do with missing weapons in Iraq. Anyone get a sense of deja vu? Wasn't there a story just like this right before the elections two years ago? The New York Times was supposed to break it a day or so before the election, but their partner in the story, CBS, jumped the gun by a few days, enough time for the bloggers to prove there was absolutely no substance to the tale.

Anyway, I'm comforting myself with memories of 1990. Anyone remember that election? (Yeah, I'm either a geezer or someone who was into politics at way too young an age. Take your pick.) That was the year the Congressional incumbents, dogged by numerous scandals (the Capitol Post Office, bad checks, etc.) were finally going to get the boot. Even the MSM (there wasn't really much else) got into the act. As I remember, in wasn't treated as a partisan thing (although most of the culprits were, if only by default, Democrats, and I'm sure that fact was glossed over) but as an incumbency one. And, I believe, somewhere from ninety-eight to one hundred percent of incumbents were re-elected. Even Time was shocked enough to run a stunned headline afterwards.

So I'm using that as a hope that Republicans won't do so bad this year. Of course, it's not why I'd want them to win- I'd much more prefer the merits, and they, alas, have few. But the stakes are too high. The crazies in Iran, Iraq, and so on do watch the news.

Moving locally, the news is abuzz with New York City's attempts to ban trans-fats. "They're bad for you!" yell the mini-fascists of Centre Street. (I'm just waiting for "the children" to come up, if they haven't already.) "It'll cost us too much!" respond the restaurant owners, doubtless leftists themselves, and, as per my current main pet peeve, unable to think out of the box. Well, forgive me for being all 1776 here, but why is no one talking about FREEDOM? It's things like this that really get the libertarian in me bubbling to the surface. Next report: The city wants calories listed on menus. "Such-and-such a burger has over 2,000 calories!" the newsreader gasps. Again, pardon me for shouting, but WHO CARES? I don't think I eat many trans-fats, whatever they are, myself, but aren't we free human beings, Americans, and New Yorkers? To these social engineers, apparently not.

Speaking of which, news is that Al Gore has been hired to consult the British government about pixie dust, or fairies, or global warming, or something. Apparently it has the power to hurt the economy more than the Depression and both World Wars. (Our lives are safe, it seems.) The watermelon socialists are worried about the economy? Right. See "social control," above. Maybe I should be grateful that they have to pretend, at least, to care about the economy, but I choose not to.

As long as we're in Europe, Gerhard Schroder has decided to grace us with his memoirs. Apparently Bush's mentions of God and religion offended him, the poor delicate flower. And, of course, he'd like us to know that he (unlike the barbarians across the Atlantic) believes in the separation of church and state. Well, he was the chancellor of a country that collects your tax dollars and gives them to the church of your choice. Bush is president of a country that forbids, to the extreme and ridiculous degree, anything that even vaguely resembles that. But Schroder's the good guy here, huh?

Well, I had a great weekend, with my old buddy Michael staying over, a Carlebach minyan, and more. Good times. I thought I'd share a story I told him as part of the discussion we had about a shiur we attended:

I stopped by the Judaica store down the block from the office last week to check out the latest. There was a whole rack of new gedolim biographies for kids, lavishly illustrated but a bit light on content. By their appearance, they seemed to have been produced in the Israeli Charedi world and, perhaps, translated for the American market.

Anyway, one of them was of R' Yonasan Eibeschitz. I flipped through it to see if there was any mention of R' Emden, but no such luck, not that I expected it. Anyway, no big deal. Like I said, it was mostly fluff, standard gadol stuff. ("Great man, wrote seforim.")

About half the book, in fact, was dedicated to a single story about R' Yonasan as a kid, which ends with an anti-Semite being dragged off to the police. The picture illustrating that scene is also the one chosen for the cover. And the funniest thing? The police station (northern Europe, early 1700's) bears the insignia of the Israeli police. Oh, the Charedim may like to pretend that they're not influenced by Zionism (of course, the usage here proves they're not actually Zionists), but they are. They are. It's like the Yiddish professor we rented a place from last year complaining that Israeli Charedi Yiddish isn't pure, as they say, for example, "Mishtara" instead of "Politzei." (He was pretty happy to meet my parents.) Now, if only they'd realize what they owe to the Zionism that is influencing them...well, maybe in time.

'Nuff for now. Later, all!