#and “become bar mitzvah”/“celebrate becoming bar mitzvah” rather than “have a bar mitzvah”

[ofpd]

i think that “politically correct” ways of saying things are usually better/more accurate but i hate using pc terms that aren't the most commonly used term because im paranoid someone is going to think that im just using political correctness to appear woke or whatever without actually understanding or caring about things that actually matter. but i do like coming up with little ways to improve accuracy of language that literally only matter to me. no one can accuse me of being pc for clout if im the one who decided it was the pc way of saying something and didn't tell anyone else

[jacensolodjo]

Written for the @startrekwintergiftexchange for @apricot-ghost who asked for 'trans man Kirk'. Also found on AO3 with some notes at the end. (Apparently the receiver moved to @groovyghostie ?)

Words: 1951

-------------------------

There was something calming about the stars that he had never been able to puzzle out. They stood as a reminder outside of Shabbat that he could always find a light somewhere. He had needed that a lot while growing up, trying to figure himself out.

It had happened halfway through Starfleet Academy, almost concurrently with his stunt of 'cheating' at the Kobayashi Maru. He had asked advice from the stars, asked why he didn't feel as proud of his achievement as so many others were. (Though he had many detractors as well.) Something had just... clicked when people started using just his surname so everyone knew instantly who was being spoken about with fewer syllables.. The dropping of a name that he had never fully considered to be 'wrong' had put the last piece of the puzzle in place. The atmosphere and culture of Starfleet as science first before war meant many went by their first name or rank, not surname so it had been the first time he had heard just the four letter name so often around him.

He was not wrong, the name was. It wasn't him. The name he had become an adult with did not fit anymore (maybe it never fully had, he just didn't want to investigate while in the middle of his time in the academy though he had chances before then, too. Timing never seemed right).

And so, shortly before graduating, Cadet Kirk had a wholly different ceremony with his rabbi, a couple of his favorite instructors, family (brother, parents), and a handful of people he actually considered friends rather than hangers on to his celebrity.

Rachel Kirk became James Kirk, or James Tiberius Kirk on his officer commission papers. Tiberius came to him from his father's side, while James came down from both tradition and his maternal side.

Kirk was still binding at the time, having decided that despite surgery being rather simple and no longer requiring long recovery times, he would wait until after he graduated to have it.

So, when he had his bar mitzvah, to 'replace' the bat mitzvah he had had, he was still binding and the tallit helped in hiding the rest of what the binding missed.

"Baruch atah Adonai, Eloheinu Melech Ha'olam, asher kiddashnu b'mitzvotav vitzvanu b'shem mitzvah tzitzit v'mitzvat hityatzrut."

Blessed are you, Hashem, Ruler of the Universe, for giving the commandment for the sake of the mitzvah of ritual fringes and the mitzvah of self-formation.

It had taken a bit of research but he had found a prayer that worked for him as he bound his chest and obscured what the binding couldn't with his tallit.

He looked at the note he had made along with his speech. He let the words sink into him again: "G-d blessed me by making me transsexual for the same reason G-d made wheat but not bread and fruit but not wine, so that humanity might share in the act of creation."

He thoroughly believed in those words now (ancient words from over two centuries ago thus the words used being just as obsolete but no less truthful or accurate). When he had first heard them he hadn't quite understood what it meant. How could we create ourselves? Formation sure, but creation? Now, he knew. Every time he would bind, every time he thought of the surgery planned for after graduation. Every time he has to reintroduce himself he had a chance of creating a new connection not only to his fellow humans but with God.

And so, it was easy to accept many missions, including a five year mission, five years of missing the High Holy Days in a synagogue, replaced by the chapel on the ship. Faster than light travel did not mean people stopped believing in God (or multiple). Adonai was in space just as much as on Earth.

Judaism did not believe in proselytizing. And Kirk never considered it to be as such when talking about God being wherever the ship was.

He still needed hormones, and they still needed doctor approval, so the first order of business as soon as he got the crew list finished was to introduce himself to the Chief Medical Officer, one Doctor Leonard "Bones" McCoy. Where Kirk was Jewish, McCoy had grown up Southern Baptist before settling on 'theist' when Southern Baptist no longer felt right (learning the amount of bigotry that filled the walls of the church helped increase the feeling) and nor did any other denomination or non-Christian religion he had read up on.

"Good to meet you, Captain. I see on your files you are Jewish. Do you keep kosher?"

Kirk smiled a little at the friendly words and handshake. Then he shook his head in the negative.

"I do not, just Shabbat," Kirk admitted.

"Noted. My roommate at medical school didn't keep Shabbat, just kosher. Now, what else may I help you with, Captain?"

"You don't need to be so formal, Doctor. James is fine. Or Jim. And yes, I realize the irony." A pause to let McCoy nod in understanding. "As for what else I require of you besides counsel I know you are more than qualified to offer, I have a... medication concern..."

Leonard McCoy could not be accused of being a man who doesn't read up on his patients before setting off on a multi-year mission. He knew everything in the medical file of one James T. Kirk but he felt since the Captain was already halfway there to giving the answer to let him finish. 

"I'll need a number of hormone injections on the trip. I'm adept at giving them to myself, I just need a doctor's okay to fill it." 

"Easy like Sunday morning, Cap-- Jim," McCoy said with the half smile he had cultivated over the years. Kirk exhaled like he had been holding in the breath for minutes on end. He liked being self-sufficient but knew some doctors preferred being hands-on. He had a feeling he would get along fine with 'the old country doctor'.

After speaking to McCoy, Kirk wandered around the starbase for a time before he moved on to his next meeting with his new Chief of Engineering. They met at one of the two bars on the base before walking its corridors together.

"Your reputation well precedes you, Mr. Scott," Kirk admitted as the slightly older man (if one considered 11 years 'slightly') enumerated his other postings and all the emergencies he had to fix. 

"Oh, aye? Is the man who beat the Kobayashi Maru a fan of mine?" Montgomery "Scotty" Scott asked, a beaming smile on his face.

"Quite, Mr. Scott. If you hadn't been assigned to the Enterprise I would have asked for you."

Kirk noted the very tips of Scotty's ears had turned a bit pink. Kirk pretended not to notice, however. 

They passed the second bar on the Starbase then adjusted course, Scotty following Kirk's lead to wherever the younger man felt like going. Kirk noted Scotty's loping walk, as if he had just relearned how to walk. It was difficult to change your way of walking when your center of gravity shifted. 

"How about we get more properly drunk at the Hope Hotel?" Kirk offered. Only in privacy would he ask what he wanted to ask. Not only for Scotty's sake but his own. It was not required to come out of the closet and he didn't want to invite someone out of it when surrounded by so many strangers, regardless of what the surrounding opinion might be. Or the answer.

Scotty knew that wasn't its actual name and it made him chuckle before nodding. He had taken up residence in a lower deck of the base.

"Why, Cap'n, you sure know the right thing to offer a man of my character," Scotty answered, never having been one to turn down drink.

Laughing, Kirk clapped the solid Scotsman on the shoulder before leading the way to the hotel. 

It was there, in a rented room, that Kirk allowed himself the luxury of actually getting drunk. It was a rare occurrence, preferring to go about clear headed even off duty. Maybe especially when off duty. 

"I'll show you mine if you show me yours," Kirk said, scratching idly as his chest some three drinks into things. 

"I-- sorry?" Scotty asked, barely bleary eyed so it wasn't the drink confusing him.

Kirk laughed, mostly at himself. "Sorry that was a terrible way to ask what I want to."

Without bothering to verbally clarify any further, he stripped off the off-duty grey shirt he wore.

The keyhole procedure he had received after graduating meant the scarring was minimal around the areola and two little holes just below the armpits. One would be hard pressed to notice if they weren't even sure what they were meant to see. 

Scotty picked up on it however and he gave another broad grin. Once he finished what was in his glass, he stripped off his own shirt (which he rarely did outside of showering and going to bed, even exercising he tended to stay fully clothed as a personal preference). Scotty had opted for more traditional, light lines that were hard to make out through the natural curve of pectoral muscle. A moderate carpet of hair added further camouflage. Kirk was slightly less fuzzy around the chest, the fuzz picking up around the midriff. Scotty could certainly be considered a bear of a man, in the vernacular of their shared community and in general. Scotty was solid, one might use the term thick set, without being in danger of failing the Starfleet physical. Kirk was sure Scotty could give quite the bear hug if he wanted to. 

Kirk moved his gaze back to the other man's face after another second or two of appreciation that his new Chief of Engineering was part of the self made brotherhood.

It was one of the few things not on any records that weren't medical, there was no need. No one needed to know what a person had been born as. Only what they were now. So these kinds of reveals could happen at their discretion.

"D'ye always ask your new crew to disrobe, Cap'n?" Scotty teased, words muffled for a moment as he returned his shirt to its previous place. Kirk followed suit with his own shirt and laughed. 

"Not normally. I, uh, was just curious."

"What gave me away?" Scotty asked, turning slightly serious now. 

Kirk paused, head tilting slightly. 

"Your stance. How you walk. As if you're still afraid the binder is going to ride up if you move your top half too much."

Scotty digested this, nodding absently. He returned to the present and poured more hotel provided whisky for them both. Kirk gave a nod if thanks.

"Slàinte mhath!" Scotty intoned as he held his glass aloft, the two Gaelic words flowing lovingly from the man's tongue. 

Matching Scotty's earlier beaming grin, he held his own glass aloft and lightly tapped it to Scotty's. 

"L'chaim!" Kirk said just as full of warmth and loving emotion. Scotty's face again broke into another trademark grin. 

Cheers. 

Good health, good luck. (Or, more literally: to life!)

Kirk had a feeling the five year mission was going to fly right by considering the crew he had met so far. And that he would love every last millisecond of it. 

And Kirk would learn later that Spock was matrilineal Jewish. And a number of months into the tour that Hikaru Sulu, who would serve initially as Head of Astrosciences before moving to the Command track on the bridge to become the senior helmsman, was also a self-made man. 

[djdynamixau]

The development of party sound systems

Introduction

There is a proverb that states "music is life." Additionally, music is the lifeblood of any celebration. Party sound systems have developed throughout history to become bigger, better, and more powerful than ever before, from high school dances to sizable outdoor festivals. See how party sound systems have evolved throughout time, from basic models to cutting-edge wonders that will make your chest pound with bass and leave you gasping for air.

Party sound system history

Party DJ Hire Sydney sound systems were created as a result of disco. In the 1970s, DJs used records to make seamless mixes that could be played nonstop in clubs. Disco turntables, which were modified tape decks, were created as a result. DJs began utilizing these turntables to make beats and melodies, which they then combined with other music performed in the club to produce a distinctive sound.

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As electronic dance music (EDM) gained popularity in the late 1990s and early 2000s, DJs began employing digital audio workstations. (DAWs). DJs were now able to experiment with sounds that weren't achievable with more traditional DJ techniques. DJs now have new tools for editing, remixing, and altering sounds thanks to digital audio workstations (DAWs).

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Party sound systems have advanced significantly from their bulky, ineffective forebears to become sleek, portable, and versatile in their capacity to replicate a range of noises.

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Rich sounds can only be produced in a party setting with audio equipment. Turntables, CD players, and mixer boards are among the most frequently utilized pieces of audio equipment. Vinyl records, which can produce deep bass tones, are frequently played on turntables. High-quality stereo CDs can be played on CD players. DJs may generate complicated sounds and beats on stage by using mixer boards, which enable them to manipulate many audio sources with a single controller.

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How Much Volume Is Needed?

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Choose the music genre you want to play, as well as the sound system's volume level. Any type of music can be played on a party system, however some genres are better suited to certain arrangements than others. While country music is played over a public address system, electronic dance music is transmitted using specialized DJ Hire systems designed for nightclubs and bars. You can look out specific party systems that support a particular musical genre once you've decided on it.

Earlier Party Sound Systems

Early 20th-century sound systems were typically big, complicated machinery that required lots of personnel to run. These devices were frequently deployed in music venues like nightclubs.

In recent years, portable and lightweight sound systems have grown more readily available, making them ideal for use at outdoor gatherings like festivals.

Due to the vast price range (from $100 to $5,000+) and the wide number of brands now available on the market, it might be difficult to choose a party sound system that suits your needs and budget.

The future of party sound systems

As audio technology advances, the future of party sound systems looks bright. We examine the benefits and drawbacks of five of the most popular party music systems on the market right now.

DJI Mavic Air's party sound equipment is highly sought after. The Mavic Air is perfect for recording and producing audio because it has two speakers and a microphone. It is a portable, lightweight setup that can be utilized both indoors and outdoors.

Due to its portability, the DJI Mavic Air is a fantastic choice for events like weddings and birthday parties. It is also suitable for usage in limited locations due to its small design.

The DJI Mavic Air is very affordably priced. It is one of the most affordable drones on the market, making it a desirable choice for those in charge of organizing events on a low budget. However, the DJI Mavic Air's audio performance isn't as good as some other systems that are now available.

[epicene-humanoid]

some trans Jeff thoughts:

he realized he was trans in elementary school and just went fuck it I'll just start introducing myself as Jeffery and see if anyone decides to stop me (as we know, jeff winger can get away with almost anything)

he got top surgery the second he could afford it (around the same time he started at his law firm), and probably bribed someone to keep it a secret

"I'm jeff winger and i would rather look at myself naked than the women I sleep with" are the words of a man proud of his transition

he's really insecure about his fashion sense, which is why he mostly dresses like the douchey guys at his firm in the start of the show, he thought you can't go wrong with the sleazy lawyer look

he will never admit it but he feels super good about the dean hitting on him, because the dean is a (cis) guy, acknowledging that Jeff is more manly than him

i think he starts out stealth and comes out to everyone one by one, probably starting with abed because he knows abed won't judge him and will probably just see it as an interesting backstory.

abed just says it's cool and maybe worth a prequel exploring Jeff's transition, and jeff asks him to predict how all of the members of the group will react to him coming out.

abed's predictions:

britta will be over-the-top supportive and do a ton of research about trans history, probably put together a slideshow just to prove how progressive she is, and jeff will be a little bit weirded out, but also touched that she did all that for him, though he would never let her know that

shirley will be confused, because she doesn't know how someone she trusts and knows so well could be part of a group she was raised to hate, but ultimately realizes that there's nothing actually against the lgbtq people in the bible, and, as a cool character development arch, starts to advocate against use of the bible to justify bigotry

troy will just think it over and decide that Jeff's physique and coolness are even awesomer knowing how much work he'd had to put in to be like that, and respects Jeff's manliness even more

annie will give him a hug, say something sweet about how she'll always love him, and worry about his health, because even she read somewhere that taking testosterone makes you more likely to have a heart attack, jeff will explain that the risk is still only as high a cis guy, and she'll be the one to always remind him to take his shots

peirce will say at best say "jeff winger used to be a chick?" and at worst call him a slur, either way there's sure to be a lot of misgendering from him, and pestering to know Jeff's deadname (needless to say, Jeff just doesn't tell peirce)

the whole group goes out of their way to keep their beach trips a secret from pierce (the girls don't want him there anyways, he's too liable to be creepy) even though jeff knows that even if pierce saw his scars, all he would have to do is make up a story about some childhood accident and pierce would never question it

sorry this ended up being super long. can I hear some of your headcanons for him?

YES ALL THIS!!! yes yes i’m fully accepting this as canon oh my god

i’m about to type a whole ass ESSAY at midnight because i have been DYING to talk about this for months ajfdksljk,,, this is going to be obscenely long and i might end up adding even more to it as i continue to rewatch the show because there is truly no shortage of trans jeff content (especially when you’re trans and see transness in every little thing ajdkslfkjs)

spoiler warning for literally everything about this show under the cut <3

i 100% agree, i feel like he realized he was trans super young, especially since in the show we see him as a little kid a couple of times. 

like look at little jeff with the oversized sweatshirt and little ponytail!! that’s childhood trans fashion. not to be dramatic but part of me thinks that jeff’s dad left before he fully came out to his family (which gives him even more angst about it, because until that one Thanksgiving episode, he’s never able to prove to his dad that he’s a better man), but part of me thinks that his dad left after he came out (which adds that spicy i-should-have-stayed-in-the-closet guilt that he has to work through). 

either way, because his dad wasn’t there, he had to base his concept of masculinity on something else, which was becoming a lawyer!! there’s some line that’s like “after the dust and divorce papers were settled the only man i looked up to was [the lawyer guy]”. like, replacing your father figure in your mind with the concept of “a job where you can talk your way in and out of anything and distort other people’s concept of reality”? that’s trans.

 and the fucking THANKSGIVING EPISODE... i struggle to watch it without crying hehe <3 yeowch! the dichotomy of willy jr. being the “wrong” kind of man because he’s “too soft” but jeff also not being enough despite adhering to all the social standards of masculinity... fuck!! this whole scene of him telling his dad “i am Not well adjusted” and talking about how he gave himself an “appendix surgery scar” when he was a kid and he still keeps the get-well-soon letters from his classmates under his bed? oh my god. the implication of people loving him not despite his scars but because of them?? trans. i can’t think about this episode for too long or i’ll start yelling.

OH and this scene? where he talks about how his mom got him a girl costume for halloween?? and everyone said “what a cute little girl” and after a few houses he stopped correcting them?? and “once the shame and the fear wore off, i was just glad they thought i was pretty”?? THAT’S TRANS... the man needs validation oh my god... and then in all the halloween episodes we see he has these ultra-masculine costumes (a cowboy, David Beckham, one of the fast and furious guys even though he never watched the movies, a boxer with his DAD’S boxing gloves... god) costumes are about becoming something else and he always chooses to be hypermasculine and that is trans.

THE PHYSICAL EDUCATION EPISODE!!!!!!! being uncomfortable during P.E. is a queer experience. period. but him being specifically uncomfortable in the clothes someone else is assigning to him? trans. “are we gonna talk about clothes like a girl? or use tapered sticks to hit balls around a cushioned mat like a man?” TRANS. and him eventually stripping in public? celebration of transness. and the fact that he eventually becomes comfortable in both the uniform and his own style!! trans!! god i love this episode. 

AND AND AND!!! the gay dean coming out episode!!! where it’s the three of them discussing the best way for the dean to come out as gay despite not entirely identifying with that label!! so we have both frankie and the dean who are sort of ambiguously queer, and jeff who’s a stealth trans man who’s probably only out to only the study group at this point. this scene where the dean and jeff have this like eyebrow communication while frankie is talking is just so cute. queer-to-queer communication. “I am so curious” “oh?” “intellectually.” “oh...” ajfdksljfk this scene just screams high school GSA to me and i love it so much.

and SPEAKING of the dean!! i totally see you on that. i feel like jeff has some internalized homophobia/biphobia (like he’d throw punches over someone else, but when it comes to himself he has a lot of shame). and also seeing the dean so confident in all his different outfits/costumes has a weird affect on him bc it’s like “okay, the dean, a cis guy, can do that, but i as a trans guy could Not because that’s Breaking the Rules”. which, like, throwback to the halloween thing. of course there’s no right way to be masculine, but mr. winger does not know that.

another thing!! the episode where their emails get leaked? that includes his emails with his therapist. fuck!! he was outed to the whole world in that episode!! no wonder he was so fucking angry!! this whole episode (and really any time he mentions his therapist) is so interesting when you think about them as a person he talks to about his transition. OH which adds to the thing with the dean!! “and you told your therapist you wanted to be alone this weekend” and “not you jeff, i know you’ll be visiting your dad” ”I told you to stop reading my emails”. luckily his study group has his back and just makes fun of him for emailing astronauts lmao

and WHO can forget “they’re giving out an award for most handsome young man!!!!” what else is there to say about this line besides: he’s trans. you know he didn’t get awarded enough for being a handsome young man when he was a kid, and no amount of compliments when he’s fully-grown can really make up for that. some people crash a kid’s bar mitzvah to cope with the fact that they struggled to be seen as themselves when they were a teenager <3

also his weird relationship with pierce? where he kind of hates him (understandably lmao) but at times has this almost-friends-almost-father-son relationship with him? especially in this episode where he’s forced to bond with him and ends up having a good time by accident (at a barber shop no less, the perfect place to Be A Man with your Man Friend). idk what to say about him besides the fact that pierce says his mom wanted a girl when he was born and made him dress like a girl (and his middle name is anastasia!) so if they’re gonna do any bonding over transness it’s gonna be that. 

okay one last thing and then i’ll shut up for the night. this episode kills me (and almost kills jeff hahahahelpi’mcrying). it’s a very Trans thing to not be able to visualize your future self, it just is. growing up trans at the time he did? i don’t know what kind of future he saw for himself, but i’m so happy that he ended up with a group of friends who became his family and love him the way they all do. i’m so emotional over this asshole it’s ridiculous. 

in conclusion:

they’re trans, your honor <3

[thedupshadove]

G-d of My Father’s

Summary: An interesting fact about Newton Pulsifer comes further to light. Newt, as usual, frets.

Author’s Note: This was sort of written to be set within @jewish-kulindadromeus “HaSofer”, but I’m over-eager, which means that only Chapter One of that fic is actually up as I write this, which means that further chapters of that fic may render this one incompatible with it, which is fine as that author is within her rights to write whatever kind of story she wants, seeing how we’re not actually working together.

“Say,” said Crowley after the sixth time Newt overheard him giving Aziraphale some Judaism 101 lesson and interjected with a helpful clarification, extra information, or his own view on things only to hastily shut himself up, “how come you know all this? I remember asking you if you were Jewish and you said no.” In fact Newt had looked at the ceiling, stammered a bit, pulled his mouth into a thin Muppety line, rubbed the back of his neck, and then said no, but Crowley hadn’t given that much thought at the time, since that was barely more awkwardness than Newt tended to display when asked to make a definitive statement on anything. “What, did an old girlfriend teach you?”

“His current girlfriend could have taught him.” said Anathema pointedly, walking into the room. “Although I suppose if that were it he’d wax fondly about boyoz instead of babka.”

“No,” Newt finally forced out after exhaling the breath he’d been holding in since Crowley had started addressing him. “No, it…it wasn’t any girlfriend. It was, er, well it’s all stuff I picked up from my father’s old synagogue.”

“Uh-huh.” said Crowley in a much-is-becoming-clear-to-me voice. “Your father’s old synagogue. Your mother, I take it, not having one.”

“Right.”

“And may I further hazard a guess that your father, family obligations aside,  is not what one would call a pious man?”

“Oh, completely non-observant. And pretty well atheist too. Since well before he met my mum, mind, so don’t go blaming her.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it” Crowley deadpanned. “So, you were dragged to the synagogue sometimes, probably mostly for b’nai mitzvahs, and couldn’t help but absorb a few things. I see.” He made as if to turn back to Aziraphale.

But Newt suddenly looked distressed and a little defensive. “Well I wouldn’t say dragged.” he protested. “I mean they didn’t have to drag me. Why would they? It was something special, something wonderful. A day to be spent surrounded by relatives, plenty of whom I didn’t see very often. Getting to see some cousin have a shining moment. Good food, good music, good conversation, us kids sneaking off to go exploring or play hide-and-seek during the reception, what wasn’t to look forward to?”

“Alright, alright, I apologize.” said Crowley, seemingly a little taken aback.

But Newt seemed now to feel that not enough had been said. “And it wasn’t just b’nai mitzvahs either. I mean there were a lot of those, but there were some weddings too, and of course a few funerals. Those obviously weren’t fun, per se, but they were…good. In a way. Like, if this relative was going to die, I’d much rather that we’d all gathered and done this funeral than if we hadn’t. When I first heard that my grandfather had died I was just…numb, and it wasn’t until we were all standing around the grave and it was my turn to shovel in some dirt that I think it really hit home. And that was a good situation to have that happen in, I think. And we would go to the Seders at my aunt’s house pretty regularly.”

That made sense, Crowley reflected. If there was any one holiday that even the most secular Jew might go home for, it would be Passover, being not only very major and important but also placing such an emphasis on family and gathering and togetherness. And food and drink and storytelling and, if you do it right, laughter.

“I even…” some of Newt’s natural state of embarrassment seemed to have caught up with him again, but he soldiered on, powered by some inner spring of…something that needed to get out. “I even did the Four Questions a couple of times, until the cousins younger than me started getting old enough to take their turns doing it. But I remember my Dad teaching me how in the weeks before the holiday. Took me forever to get it right: I kept forgetting myself and using a soft ‘ch’.

“And sometimes Dad and I would just…talk about it. I mean, he didn’t keep any of the practices or rituals anymore except at family things, but I never got the impression that he, you know, really hated it now or anything. I would want to know something about what’s this holiday or why that rule or how come this is kosher but that isn’t, and he would tell me, and he never seemed to mind. Even seemed to kind of enjoy it. Not, I figure, from belief surging anew but,” Newt shrugged, “nostalgia, you know. And often that question led to other questions, and discussions, and sort of…arguments but without anger. I remember one time, after he’d got done explaining that ‘animals that walked on the ground’ had to have the right kind of hooves and the right kind of chewing habits, but any kind of bird was okay, I pointed out that perhaps our ancestors had not made a close examination of the usual behavior of the average chicken, and he,” Newt made an upward striking motion with his hand.

“He hit you?” Aziraphale gasped, shocked both at the sudden turn of the story and the fact that Newt’s tone hadn’t changed with it.

“What? No, no, no.” Newt said hastily, realizing his failure of communication. “He pantomimed dope-slapping me, but he didn’t actually make contact, and he was smiling. Smiling like he would sometimes when we had those talks. Like I was the biggest little smart-arse he’d ever met, and he loved me for it.” Newt was smiling too, now, bathed in his own nostalgic glow.

“Did he ever start one of these talks?” asked Crowley.

“Not often, no. The only times I can think of when he did were when they tried to teach us something about Judaism in school, and I’d come home and tell him about it, and it turned out school had got it wrong, or not given the whole picture.”

“So you grew up with Jewish family, going to Jewish events, celebrating (some) Jewish holidays, and getting a Jewish education at home pretty much for the asking.” Crowley clarified.

“That’s about the size of it, yeah.”

“But you’re not Jewish.”

“Well I’m not, am I?” Newt shrugged in agitation. “There’s a set of criteria, and I fall outside it.”

“Love,” said Anathema gently, “There’s been a lot of talk lately about reconsidering how strictly the matriliniality rule needs to be adhered to…”

“Yes, yes, I know about that. And it would be one thing if my immediate family really practiced Judaism regularly, or if I’d been bar mitzvahed myself, or anything like that, but we didn’t, and I wasn’t, so I’m not.”

“Well, that must be a relief then.” said Crowley, in a tone that could have pickled meat.

Newt stared at him. “What?”

“To have that escape clause.” he went on nastily. “I can understand why you would want it. Historically speaking, being Jewish has rarely been easy. Why be part of a weird minority if you don’t have to? So yes, you just go ahead and lean on that mother of yours. No one would blame you for pushing the…oddities of your heritage and past under the rug. No, don’t worry; you don’t have to be Jewish if you don’t want to be.”

Newt stood slack-jawed for a moment, then exploded. “Don’t say that, how dare you say that?” he demanded, with far more heat than it probably should have been safe to direct at a being like Crowley. “Haven’t you been listening? The times I spent…” he fumbled for words “…in Judaism have consistently been some of the happiest of my life. Laughter and connection and this…this feeling that I never got anywhere else. A feeling of warmth, of rightness. It was almost like believing in something. Not in G-d, maybe, but sometimes, even if it got more fleeting and less strong as I grew older and started to really understand the kind of half-breed hanger-on I was, sometimes, I believed that I belonged.

“And as to your veiled references to the fluctuating but ever-present antisemitism or just simple ignorance of mainstream society, trust me, I know. When I was younger it was listening to a classmate confidently explain to her friends that Jews weren’t allowed to eat leavened bread at all, ever, and not having the courage to interrupt the conversation and correct her, and more recently, it’s been these three co-workers at United Holdings who I can only assume think they’re funny. Or possibly they think that they can get away with it if they pretend to think they’re funny, which, to be fair, so far they have. But I  get to listen to them gathered around the water cooler across from my cubicle making Lynch-The-Black jokes and Gas-The-Jew jokes, and they both make me angry, but the second category undeniably hits a deeper, more personal well of anger than the first.”

Here he paused. “I’m not…proud of that, by the way. It would almost certainly be better if every cruel or bigoted joke I heard hit me just as hard as the ones that make me picture my father and my aunt and my closest cousin and my new little second cousin being dispassionately yet hatefully murdered. But that’s not how my mind works. I would even hazard to say that it’s not how most people’s minds work.”

Crowley, who had withstood the storm with equanimity, leaned in closer and raised his voice a hair. “So are you Jewish or aren’t you?”

“I-DON’T-KNOW!”

“Because it seems to me that your position right now is that people who tell you that you’re Jewish are wrong, and people who tell you that you’re not Jewish…are wrong.”

“Well…maybe! Maybe they are both wrong!”

Crowley’s voice gentled a little. “Then what’s right?”

Newt sighed and deflated. “What’s right is…that I can’t say I’m Jewish. But I’m definitely not not Jewish. And sometimes I feel closer to it than other times. And sometimes I can manage to be sort of okay with this ebb-and-flow relationship, and then sometimes I want to be really Jewish so badly my teeth hurt.”

For a moment, Crowley looked distinctly like he’d just gotten exactly what he was looking for. “Then why don’t you do something about that?”

Newt blushed again. “Because…because I never know where to start. Because even if I knew enough to just jump in and start doing more, it would feel wrong of me to decide that I was allowed to do so. But trying official conversion, and having to explain my particular position to a Rabbi,  always seemed to promise its own stew of awkwardness. So I’ve just…sat with this uncertainty. For years.”

Aziraphale glanced at Crowley, and an awful lot seemed to pass between them in quite a short time. “I think,” the Angel then said, “that I should quite like to have a classmate. Someone to collaborate with on homework. Someone to gang up on the teacher with, if need be.”– Crowley put his hand to his forehead in mock horror– “An extra brain to keep things interesting. If you think you can stand to bring yourself down to my level–”

“Oh, there’s loads I don’t know.” Newt interjected. “My ‘Jewish education’, such as it was, was incredibly piecemeal and haphazard, really just getting answers to questions I happened to think to ask. I’m sure that plenty of the basics will be new to me. Heck, you’re an immortal angel; you probably know a lot of things that I don’t.”

“Then we’ll make perfect complementary students, won’t we? Will you join us?”

And so, shaking almost imperceptibly, Newt sat down.

[otnesse]

Reply to NicoleJoPhillips

"Belle can’t be Jewish because THEY LITERALLY HAVE A CHRISTMAS SPECIAL!! Head cannon a princess as Jewish if you like but do one that doesn’t have a Christmas special "

To be fair, the Christmas special you're referring to seemed to focus more on the secular elements of the holiday rather than the actual religious aspects of the holiday (I don't recall them mentioning Jesus's birth in there), so I'm not sure that would be sufficient enough proof that Belle isn't Jewish, at least in terms of ethnicity. Besides, do I have remind you of Ron Stoppable from Kim Possible? That guy was explicitly Jewish, yet I distinctly recall it being strongly implied in a few episodes that, despite his being enough of a religious Jew that he celebrated a Bar Mitzvah in one episode, he celebrated Christmas (the secular holiday, certainly) due to his panicking at Dr. Drakken trying to "steal Christmas" when he stole the Z-Boy factory assembly, and in another Christmas episode, he was shown celebrating the holiday with the Possibles (and considering his favorite food joint is Bueno Nacho, it's obvious he doesn't adhere to the Kosher diet despite his religion.).

Of course, it's extremely unlikely that Belle's Jewish in terms of religion even if we ignore the Christmas special due to the fact that the original film as well as the Disney Comics prequel strongly implied that she wasn't even religious at all, being atheistic or at best deistic, since she makes zero comments on religion whatsoever, while the other villagers were shown to make religious references in the opening song as well as the mob song, and even had a bishop in full regalia at one point. Doesn't help that the setting of the film according to Glen Keane was the late 18th century, which was when the anti-religious elements of the Enlightenment were becoming all the rage and eventually exploded with the French Revolution.

[wazafam]

The quirky relationship between the geeky Raj Koothrapalli and Howard Wolowitz was the second most important friendship in the hit sitcom The Big Bang Theory (after Sheldon and Leonard). Although the characters start out as profoundly immature, with time, Howard gradually becomes a caring and loving father, while Raj becomes more confident and considerate.

RELATED: The Big Bang Theory: 10 Fan-Ship Relationships We Wish We Real

They may have had an almost unhealthy, codependent relationship, but most fans would say their friendship stands the course of time, especially once Bernadette enters the picture and they become an integral part of each other's family. Like all friends, Howard and Raj bicker all the time. But, at the end of the day, they would always be there for each other, supporting their dreams and celebrating their successes.

12 Season 1: Their Introduction

The first season introduces Howard and Raj as one of Leonard and Sheldon's closest friends, who spend most of the time watching movies or playing video games with. It is during this season that fans discover how Raj and Howard are a couple of socially awkward young men, who are both talented and respected scientists (or in Howard's case, a respected engineer).

While Howard appears to take the lead most of the time, it is Raj who is more liked by fans due to Howard's off-putting personality and inappropriate behavior that makes a lot of people feel uncomfortable.

11 Season 2: Exploring Their Characters

Raj finds out that his selective mutism improves when he downs a drink or two. Unfortunately, it also makes him say inappropriate things to everyone and several women.

Howard is already disgustingly creepy when it comes to women so the two form quite the duo, especially since they also appear deeply co-dependent.

10 Season 3: Attachment & Abandonment

The writers start scratching beyond the surface of Howard and Raj’s relationship. Their genuine attachment for each other comes through when Howard shows his concern at the possibility that Raj might lose his work permit.

RELATED: The Big Bang Theory: 10 Most Overdone Storylines

However, the viewers do see a few cracks appear in their friendship when Raj starts getting annoyed at Howard continuously abandoning him or their plans at the last minute so he can pursue other women. While the pair do make up, there is still some lingering tension between them.

9 Season 4: Careers, Relationships & Fantasies

Both Howard and Raj focus on their careers a bit more, but they also start dabbling with more serious relationships. Howard gets into an on-again-off-again relationship with Bernadette from the Cheesecake Factory, which puts a slight strain on Raj and Howard's friendship.

Raj, unfortunately, doesn’t have anyone he could turn to and develops feelings for Bernadette about whom he starts daydreaming. His love for Howard doesn’t stop him from hoping he might get a chance with Bernadette if Howard wasn’t around. However, when the time comes, it is Raj's brilliant brainwave that allows the couple to get married on a rooftop so that their wedding could be captured by a satellite from space.

8 Season 5: Friendship & Feuds

The friendship goes through ups and downs as Howard finds out that Bernie doesn't want kids and also that Raj had been fantasizing about her. Tension also increases when Raj messes up at Howard's bachelor party and his viral video causes Bernie to find out some rather questionable stuff about Howard's past.

Yet, for all their little feuds, the two would still spend an inordinate amount of time together, whether it be them trying to figure out where Sheldon would mysteriously disappear to at work every day or helping with the International Space Station expedition.

7 Season 6: Getting On With Life

Howard has a vital breakthrough in life as he gets married and then goes off to the International Space Station. He finds it hard to keep both his wife and mother happy at the same time, especially when Bernie wants him to move out of his mother's place.

RELATED: The Big Bang Theory: The 5 Most Annoying Things Raj Ever Did (& The 5 Sweetest)

Raj, in the meantime, has found a sort of replacement for Howard as he hangs out with the goofy Stuart Bloom while Howard is away. He also feels exasperated when Howard can't stop bragging about his journey to the ISS.

6 Season 7: Blundering On

Howard's mom falls sick and has to be taken care of 24/7. But that doesn't stop his friendship with Raj from going from strength to strength. Over the course of the season, the viewers see the bond between the two grow stronger as Howard confides in Raj in some of his insecurities and health concerns (like the time he starts feeling the side effects of his mother's ointment).

Raj also starts dating the dermatologist called Emily, who ends up being one of his more long-term relationships. He seeks Howard's help to prepare for a gory horror movie that he is due to be watching with Emily, and the two discuss his relationship with Emily.

5 Season 8: Working Together, Or Not

Raj and Howard, along with Leonard, work together on the cleanroom project with disastrous consequences. Howard tries to be there for Raj, even accompanying him to a Hindu temple as he spends his day restlessly worrying about a space probe he had helped design that would send information about Pluto.

Unfortunately, this is also the time when Howard and Sheldon do their best to take over and dominate Raj in a project he is working on, without having much respect for his wishes. As a result, viewers see some distance form between the two.

4 Season 9: Bonding Over The Band

In season 9, the viewers see Raj and Howard form a band, which they name 'Footprints On The Moon.' Their muse was inspired by the sci-fi genre and they would only play in bar mitzvahs (although they were originally formed to play in the comic book store).

RELATED: The Big Bang Theory: The Characters' 10 Most Impractical Outfit Choices, Ranked

The duo also spends time panicking over the possibility that the American government is spying on them for an innovative new project they had worked on together. It's nice to see how their friendship has still continued on years later (at this point).

3 Season 10: Being There

Raj proves he is a gem of a friend when he spends a lot of time being there for Howard and Bernadette as the two struggle with their pregnancy, and then as new parents to baby Halley.

However, Howard and Bernie show their appreciation by naming Raj the godfather to their child. Raj is now very close to Bernadette too, who is happy to have him around as he offers her a lot of helpful advice.

2 Season 11: Ups & Downs

This season sees one of the biggest developments in the Raj-Howard storyline as Raj finally realizes that Howard's constant ridiculing of him has eroded his confidence over the years. He now tries to start afresh, getting a rather glamorous new job at the planetarium. Howard does appear a tad taken aback at first but then goes back to being 'Howard.' The two then make up during Halley's first birthday party where they each let out their hurt sentiments that have been building up over the years.

Overall, Raj is now much more than just a friend to Howard and Bernadette as he once again looks out for the couple, who are pregnant with their second child. However, even after all his support, Howard doesn't seem to care much as he does his best not to have Raj live with him and Bernie when he needs a place to live in. For all his immaturity, Raj comes through as the better friend here.

1 Season 12: The Culmination

In the series finale, the viewers see a culmination of their relationship. Raj thinks he has finally found his significant other but Howard finds the idea of the romantic Raj settling down with someone he has nothing in common with to be far from ideal.

RELATED: The Big Bang Theory: The 5 Most Annoying Things Howard Ever Did (& The 5 Sweetest)

Raj decides he has little left for him in the States as Howard and Bernadette have a full family, often leaving him lonely. He is at the airport, ready to head to London to propose to Anu when Howie rushes to stop him from going. Both friends are overwhelmed and Raj stays back to be with his friend and his family. The culmination ties together both the themes of friendship and Raj continuing to look for his life partner.

NEXT: The Big Bang Theory: What Are The Main Characters' Jobs?

The Big Bang Theory: Raj & Howard's Friendship Timeline, Season By Season from https://ift.tt/3eQ1IAz

[agentverbivore]

Jewish FS prompt: Academy era, Jewish Fitz teaches atheist Jemma about Hanukkah

1) I know I’ve said this to you a couple times now, but I’m still really sorry how delayed this is. irl is lame. 2) this ficlet is inspired both by @buckysbears’ Chanukah headcanons/prompts and the second part of @theclaravoyant‘s prompt! Rated G, canon-compliant Academy era FitzSimmons (in their 3rd year). 

Head in hands, Fitz stared at his third year holographic engineering textbook and tried to convince the letters to stop swimming on the page in front of him. The final exam was in exactly seventy-six hours, but after introductory xenorganic chemistry, propulsion engineering, and his “SHIELD in Literature” elective, he was starting to feel like a wrung-out sponge. It didn’t help that the exam was scheduled for the absolute last slot in the week, which meant that half the campus was in a festive mood and he was absolutely itching to be able to join them. (From an acceptable distance, anyway.) With all the best of intentions, he had sequestered himself in one of his favorite private study rooms right after dinner. Four hours later, however, and he felt like he actually remembered the salient parts of the class less than he had before. Only having nine-tenths of the textbook memorized was really not up to par.

Just as he was giving serious consideration to dropping his face directly onto the book and taking a nice multi-hour nap, the door banged open and he nearly fell out of his chair.

“Fitz!” Simmons chirped as she plopped into the seat in front of him. “I have a question for you.”

“Bragg diffraction won the Nobel in 1915, seven years after Lippmann,” he managed to get out through a jaw-cracking yawn.

“As refined as your powers of telepathy are becoming,” she deadpanned, neatly dodging the slow kick he aimed at her red Cons beneath the table, “that’s not what I had in mind.”

“I was right, though, yeah?”

Her smile widened ever-so-slightly. “Yeah. And what crystals did they use to conduct the experiment?”

“Rock salt,” he replied promptly, sitting back in his chair. “And you’re late.”

“I ran into Professor Niehaus outside of Carter and had the most fascinating discussion about the reading for next semester. She thought you had some good points about the fall assignments, so she’s thinking about adjusting her syllabus.”

Fitz blinked at her. “I had some good points?”

“Yes. I told her what you said over spagbol at Mario’s a couple weeks ago.” The self-assuredness on her face made him want to give his head a cartoon-dog-esque shake.

“Okay, right, sure, ‘cause why wouldn’t you.” Taking in a deep breath and letting it out in a laugh, he waved one hand at her. “Alright, so, what question’d you wanna ask?”

“Oh!” she exclaimed, reaching into the purple knapsack she had placed neatly on the empty seat next to her. “I wanted to know the precise purpose of dreidel.” Simmons primly placed a lime green, plastic dreidel on the table almost perfectly between the two of them.

He squinted across the table at his best friend. “Dreidel?”

“Dreidel,” she repeated, straightening the top so that it lay parallel to the table’s edge. “The game, not the object.”

A thought occurred to him, and he arched an eyebrow. “Did you steal this from my room?”

The Academy’s Jewish Student Union chapter had held their annual Chanukah celebration the weekend before, aiming to catch students right before most exams began, and this year the party favors had included cheap plastic dreidels. Although Fitz had pretty much only shown up to grab latkes and rugelach and leave, he had swiped a couple of the trinkets to keep on his desk for fiddling with while he studied.

Simmons fought back something that resembled a sheepish smile. “Borrowed, with every intention of returning.”

Scratching at the back of his head, he tried unsuccessfully to figure out what had prompted the question, and why she had asked it now. “Why? It’s not Chanukah yet, doesn’t even start ‘til Christmas day this year.”

“I’m curious.” She continued to stare expectantly at him, and he let out a mildly annoyed huff.

Ever since having discovered that he was Jewish their first year, self-avowed atheist Simmons had taken it upon herself to pepper him with all manner of questions about his religion, only half of which he could answer on the best of days. Being mostly secular in observance himself, he found himself surreptitiously looking things up on the computer just as often as he had a response off the top of his head. One time, she spent forty-five minutes grilling him on the minutest details of his bar mitzvah, and he had ended up needing to email his mum questions when he couldn’t remember everything.

During the pause in which he was deciding how to reply, Simmons waited briefly and then continued: “And you’re the only Jewish person I know.”

Feeling abruptly tired and cranky, Fitz crossed his arms over his chest. “I dunno the purpose of dreidel, Simmons, it’s a kids’ game. Why don’t you just look it up instead of asking me?”

Anyone who didn’t know his best friend as well as he would have missed the wince that flashed briefly across her face at his words. Her shoulders sunk slightly, and she withdrew her hands to her lap. “Oh. I….”

“I mean,” he continued, feeling an odd need to defend his impulsive response, “you do this all the time with Jewish stuff. You’re an atheist, why d’you even care?”

Looking down at her lap, she took in a small breath. “I don’t know,” she said quietly. “I mean, you care about it. I thought that… that was what friends do. Be interested in things their friends are interested in. Or, I mean, that’s important to them.” Simmons tucked hair behind her ear and reached over to rifle through her bag. “Never mind. Sorry, we really should be studying.”

Discontent twisted into his stomach, and he scrunched his face up as he resisted the urge to just pretend like nothing had happened. “No, I’m – sorry, Simmons, sorry. I’m just knackered, you took me by surprise.”

“No, really,” she interrupted, piling textbooks on the table in front of herself. “I don’t want to bother you about your religion, it’s not –”

“It’s not bothering me,” he spoke over her, prompting her to actually look up and meet his gaze. “I just – I mean, I don’t like not knowing the answer.” He let out a sheepish laugh, flicking one finger at the pages of his book. “Dreidel isn’t significant or anything. It’s just a game. Think my mum said something once about how it’s adapted from some other European tradition, kinda like how Christians took bits and pieces from the Romans to make Christmas popular. But I don’t even remember what that was, so….” Fitz shrugged. “I just like the gelt and winning.”

Simmons was watching him with renewed interest now, an expression he recognized all too well from their first day of class every semester. “What’s gelt?”

“Those gold chocolate coins. Some parties use candy, too, but I like the chocolate.”

“Is it easy to win?”

Fitz chuckled, and reached out to pluck the green dreidel from the table. “Takes a lotta practice.” With that, he gave the dreidel a rapid flick onto the table, watching as it predictably flipped and spun into a standing position, making minute circles around the table.

Eyes glued to the long-spinning top, Simmons made a skeptical hum. “That doesn’t seem difficult.”

“Wanna try it, then?” He glanced down at the gold watch on his wrist. “What about we study for another hour, and then take a break to play dreidel. I can teach you. Winner brings the other tea before the exam.”

His best friend lit up at the promise of a competition, and she sat straighter in her chair. “Okay. Oh, but – we don’t have any gelt.”

Frowning, Fitz swiped up the dreidel just before it could stutter and jump to a stop. “We could use….” He spent a few seconds rifling through his bag. “I have peanut, crispy, and regular M&Ms. What d’you prefer?”

“Peanut,” she replied, watching as he laid out the three unopened bags of candy next to his work supplies. “How much candy do you have in there?”

“Gotta keep the blood sugar up, Simmons,” he retorted, pulling the nearly forgotten textbook towards himself. “Important for keeping the brain working at optimal capacity.”

Her eyes narrowed. “I think just one bag would have sufficed, but – anyway. Good idea, Fitz. Incentivization is an excellent study methodology.”

Grinning, he ducked his head, both of them settling in to be productive for exactly the following 59 minutes and 35 seconds. Fitz felt rather guilty now for having snapped at Simmons so unnecessarily, but he thought that her eager return to curiosity signaled that she wasn’t upset by his unwarranted response. Even though it didn’t make much sense, he had always been a little guarded about her questions regarding Jewish traditions, feeling that perhaps her atheism would lead to an argument between them. (An argument of a more serious nature, anyway, than the bickering that made up half of their conversations.) Yet, after about two years of friendship, the topic had only yielded them opening up about their families and traditions, and he supposed that was actually a good thing, in retrospect. In truth, Fitz found the explanation Simmons had given for her curiosity rather touching – even if he would never, ever admit it.

[Other ficlets.] [Chanukah ficlet 1 & ficlet 2.] [AO3.] 

[slapmeagain-blog]

Covid-19 Life

March 22 2020

Re-hab for Advil PM?

Sunday afternoon.  Cooler than yesterday. Still sunny but the trees and plants are continuing to color the canvas for us -- periwinkle, red, white, pink and yellow... every day a little more beautiful.  Cherries, magnolia, forsythia all at once.  Tulips will bloom soon.  Far fewer people circulating today -- probably the chill.  

Just returned from M’s studio in Crown Heights, removing all of his equipment.  He’s giving up the space for the duration of the crisis.  Saves a little money and means he doesn’t have to risk being exposed there at least.  Anyway, since we’re heading upstate soon, he wouldn’t be using it anyway.

Seems like I was wrong about Italy’s handling the crisis better than we’ve been handling it so far.  Today’s Times had a two-page spread leading from the front page talking about the series of missteps by government officials and politicians that had led to Italy becoming the hardest hit country in the world so far.  They do say that much of Europe and the US don’t seem to have learned much from Italy’s early mistakes though.  On a slightly brighter note, the number of deaths in Italy today dropped to 741 from almost 793 yesterday, a 6.5% drop..  If that’s the start of a trend, maybe we can all breathe a little easier.

But the Times article did make me wonder if we in the US are closer to some of the more onerous restrictions, like being ‘locked down’ in our homes or neighborhoods like they are now in Italy.  I just want to be sure that I have enough time to load up the car and get us and Maud up to Kingston before that happens so the kids will have a chance to take up residence at PPW.  

I had a long talk this morning on the phone with J who was able to make me feel a little less nervous about the near term probability of something like that happening, unless things here turn sharply worse in the coming days.  But I’m ‘ready to move,’ as it were, having never really unpacked boxes of food and other supplies from when we came home last Wednesday.  It still astonishes how fast all of this has unfolded.  Just three weeks ago I was at a Bar/Bat Mitzvah in Tampa celebrating with well over 100 people.  A week later I canceled a trip to a 100th birthday party in SF, and I’ve been self-isolated at home for two weeks.  

Took zero Advil last night, neither regular nor P.M., and slept lousy.  I worked the crossword, but did sleep from around midnight till 4ish, fitfully, and was wide-eyed by  5 a.m.  I fell asleep again around 7 for a couple of hours.  Maybe tonight will be better.  

Risotto with porcini mushrooms for lunch.....  Face-Timed with friends in LA just now.  Will Face-Time again in the next couple of days at cocktail hour, and Atticus will play piano for us from LA while we sip wine in Brooklyn.  

Another friend is working 12 hour shifts in Children’s Hospital in Chicago.  Hero’s all.....

11:48 p.m.

We Face-Timed Aaron... “Hi Aaron!!” with wine at 8 p.m.  Then watched two episodes of Sense8.  M’s stomach is bothering him.  Stress, cigs, maybe martinis?  All three.  Anyway, he went to bed after the second episode, but I watched a third.  It was the one to watch.  I’ll watch it with him again tomorrow, no problem.  Not that I’m recommending it.  It’s not that well-written and there’re lots of problems with the production including uneven acting, but you can’t help falling for some of the characters and rooting the for the good guys, which is a welcome distraction right about now.  

So, earlier this afternoon, just after 5 p.m., I decided to take another walk in the park, despite the nip in the air.  Put on a hoodie, a parka, a scarf, wool gloves, baseball cap, all topped with a camouflage bandanna wrapped around my face, left the house and entered the park through the Garfield Street entrance.  Normally, if a person were dressed like that people would run the other way or you’d get stopped by NYPD.  Nobody batted an eyelash, least of all the cops, some people even smiled and nodded to me.    

There were more people in the park than I had expected and was a little upset - joggers, cyclists, strollers. I thought there would be fewer people because of the cold.  But the sun was still out, though low in the sky, casting beautiful light and fresh color through the buds on the trees.  I stopped to take a photo here and there but stayed close to the road for the most part, observing the people, purposely walking against the flow so I could see faces.

I did notice one or two, OK, more, differences in the people.  There were an abundance of fathers and sons, mothers and daughters, high school age kids, aside from the usual tots in strollers.  They were jogging, or on bikes, or simply walking together in conversation.  I thought, “How wonderful for these families!”  They are both getting a rare gift of time together; no friends to hang out with, no offices to escape to, no real homework to speak of yet -- the online teaching is still gathering steam.  They are just together; mom, kid, talking, walking.  There are some things happening here that I hope will linger, long after the virus is gone.  Families may be connecting.  Wouldn’t that be amazing?  A big positive change came over NYers after 911.  Maybe this will bring us even closer together.  That was the main theme for Sense8, forcing people to bridge differences while facing adversity, and acceptance of diversity, and love and celebrating the things we share rather than fearing the differences.  Corny, but not a bad time think about these things.

By the time I got all the way to the west side of the park near home, the crowds had dwindled significantly and I found myself able to walk without being conscious of the distance between me and the next person.  Much more relaxing.

Well, it’s after midnight, so it’s no longer 22 March.  

a domani.... buona notte.

[glitterarygetsit]

On my Judaism

For the past year or so I’ve been thinking about rediscovering my Jewish identity a bit. I figure that the more antisemitism there is in the world, the more important it is for me to identify as Jewish; if something pisses off the alt-right that seems an excellent reason to do the thing. Plus, I’ll be moving to Germany soon, and it feels important to assert my Judaism freely in a country where my grandfather and his family were once persecuted for it. 

When I was little, I was raised more or less symbolically Jewish; went to synagogue till middle school, we celebrated Pesach and Chanuka, but didn’t take it particularly seriously. It was mainly to keep my grandparents happy. So over time we just stopped celebrating or identifying as such. 

I’m ethnically Jewish on my father’s side, and my mother converted before they got married (basically because my grandparents demanded it), and this morning I discovered that 1) that means she’s Jewish, and I’m Jewish, no questions asked; and 2) that you don’t need a bar or bat mitzvah to become an adult Jew. I never did mine, and I never knew that; I thought I was excluded from being a “real Jew” as a result. But nope, you become bar or bat mitzvah by default, the ceremony is a relatively new tradition. So rather than a half-Jew or an incomplete Jew, I’m just a lapsed Jew.

And that’s... surprisingly lovely to know! I’ve spent a lot of my life drifting from one community to another, half-in half-out of countries, and although I have a lot to (re)learn about Judaism, it’s nice to have a part of my identity that is inherent, and not something that can be taken from me (side-eyeing you hard, Brexit assholes). And, with being inherently Jewish, I have the luxury of being culturally Jewish; while I should and will research more on the faith side, I am not obliged to profess a religious belief to be part of the community. I can just assert my Jewishness by identifying as such, learning about it, and taking such steps to reflect my identity as seem appropriate at a cultural level.  

I’m looking out for ways to learn and celebrate this. I’m planning to either host or try to attend a Chanuka dinner when we get to Germany, and maybe even do a mini-seder for Pesach (I actually particularly like the idea of doing this, again, somewhere Jewish people once had to flee; I want to reassert a right to be there). 

If there are any secular, cultural or lapsed Jews out there with suggestions or words of advice, I’d love to hear them!

[jonfarreporter]

Sonoma woman was honored by her “2nd Bat Mitzvah” seeing it as a re-dedication to her faith.

There are many ‘snapshot moments’ in life that people cherish. For devout people like Sonoma’s Bonnie Walner it is the Bat Mitzvah. She had the privilege of celebrating it again through a 60th Anniversary commemoration this past January 12 at Congregation Shir Shalom in Sonoma.

Walner took a few moments to speak to this reporter while on assignment for the Sonoma Valley Sun to express her gratitude and excitement for a wonderful day which no doubt has become another special ‘snapshot’ moment of her life.

“Seeing a room full of friends and family was a frightening experience for me, she said. I am not a public speaker. My knees began to shake and I found my voice quivering when I was about to welcome those people who were in the synagogue honoring me.”

Celebrating an anniversary is not uncommon but it is unique when someone celebrates the day of her Bat Mitzvah.

“Not sure if this is ‘a trend’ said Shir Shalom’s Rabbi Steve Finley. But some where around the 1980’s it has become not uncommon to have an adult recreate his or her Bar or Bat Mitzvah; and once again stand before the community and re-dedicate themselves to the holy aspects of living a Jewish life.”

Rabbi Finley is very pleased that Walner wanted to celebrate her Bat Mitzah, sharing with the congregation in Sonoma her re-dedication and commitment to the Faith.

She admitted that despite her eagerness she was nervous. Studying Hebrew again was an exhausting challenge. But…

“Then I got on with it, said Walner. I lead some Hebrew prayers and songs, and I began to relax a bit as I sang my Haftarah, and lead the congregation in song.”

“Oh what a day, she exclaimed. My heart opened up to grasp the love in the room, the sunshine outside as we broke bread together and had a sip of wine. I was able to experience the joy of renewing my love for my faith,” said Walner.

With the help of Rabbi Finley and congregation member Pat Rather, she was prepared for this holy day.

Finley went on to explain that for an adult a Bar or Bat Mitzvah anniversary celebration is much more than what it was at age 12 or 13. “It’s actually manifesting a second chance to give the ceremony more mature meaning, deeper significance and the opportunity to reflect upon practical applications to one’s life now” (as an experienced adult.)

Rabbi Finley sees many advantages coming from this type anniversary celebration. “In Bonnie’s case – now that she has been re-learning Hebrew, he said, she has volunteered to assist in our Hebrew school for children at Congregation Shir Shalom.”

Walner considers giving back to the community as a vital part of her experience of faith. She is very involved in the local community and that extends beyond just the congregation. This is why her re-dedication is so important to her. 

“I had no idea the outcome would be so ‘Magical,’ said Walner. I had no idea I would or could open my heart to such joy. I had no idea, Walner continued, I could find such love and peace in my soul.”

Rabbi Finley sees her re-dedication by way of the Bat Mitzvah anniversary celebration “a stepping forward to additional commitments within our congregation.”

And, Walner has no problem with that, as she said.

“I thank all the friends and family who helped to create this special moment for me, one I will treasure always and never forget. Just like my Bat Mitzvah in Chicago Illinois, on January 9, l959. I was 12 years old, Walner said, and it was really one of the most memorable days of my life."  

Finley noted that, “ceremonies such as the Bat/Bar Mitzvah give meaning and structure to yearnings from our heart. They are an expression of both labor (such as studying Hebrew) and love.”

Ecstatic and still glowing from the experience more than a week later, Walner said. “Now the journey will continue which is so exciting to me.”

Rabbi Finley agreed as he added. “May Bonnie continue to grow from strength to strength, - Mazal Tov!”

[jewishphilosophyplace]

Haredi Transgender (Abby Stein)

In the depressing and dreary state of our political world in the Age of Trump, this is touching and lovely story about the power of transformation and self-creation is life affirming. For those who can’t get behind the Ha’aretz paywall here I’m posting below the piece by Debra Nussbaum Cohen about Abby Stein, who was born and ordained as a Hasidic rabbi and then transitioned from male to female, leaving her community to find new cultural and spiritual connections.

  By Debra Nussbaum Cohen Feb 14, 2017

NEW YORK – Abby Stein is almost certainly the only ordained Hasidic rabbi who is also a woman. Stein wasn’t female when ordained, of course. She was a young man, soon to be married to a woman also from the strict Satmar community in which they were both raised.

While Stein – then named Yisroel and nicknamed Srully – had long had unsettling feelings about her gender identity, when she married at age 18 in Williamsburg, Brooklyn and moved to Monsey, she had no idea that just a few years later her life would be radically different.

But it is. Today Stein, 25, is a Columbia University student, divorced, no longer ultra-Orthodox – and female.

Abby, as she is now known, is a petite young woman with shoulder-length brown hair, whose religious origins are detectable only in the Yiddish accent and cadence of her speech. Estrogen has made her face softer and her body more womanly, and has even induced PMS-like mood swings.

Abby Stein today after undergoing gender transitioning, leaving the religious world, getting a divorce and becoming a student at Columbia University. Debra Nussbaum Cohen She is happier than she has ever been and plans to work on transgender issues in public policy. She may even one day run for local public office.

The sixth of 13 children, Stein was her parents’ first son. It was an upbringing full of cousins, weddings and Shabbos tisches (Friday night community gatherings) with the rebbe. Her father is related in five different ways to the Baal Shem Tov, the mystical 18th-century rabbi and founder of Hasidism. As such, the family has customs that reflect its status. While in strict Hasidic communities women don’t drive, Stein men don’t either. They don’t eat in restaurants and work only in Jewish education. After bar mitzvah the boys wear white knee socks rather than black ones — something most Satmar men do only after marriage.

When young Stein questioned her father about why they didn’t go to amusement parks during the Passover and Sukkot festivals like most Hasidim, he would respond that those things were “pas nisht” — simply “not done” – by Steins.

Something nagged at the little boy from an early age, although she lacked the language to describe it. In the bathtub at age 4, she’d prick her penis with pins because, as Stein tells Haaretz now, “It just felt like it didn’t belong there. I realized right away that I couldn’t tell anyone.”

She voraciously read articles about organ transplant from Yiddish language newspapers Der Yid and HaMaspik, thinking “someday I’ll get a full-body transplant.” At age 11, Stein added a personal prayer to her bedtime recitation of the daily Shema (confession of faith) prayer: to wake up a girl.

At 15 Stein went to a high-school yeshiva of the Vizhnitz Hasidic community in upstate New York. One day a classmate gave her a Hebrew-language translation of Richard Friedman’s “Who Wrote the Bible?” That led Stein to read “The God Delusion” by atheist Richard Dawkins, and to the discovery in the yeshiva library of books by Rabbi Yitzhak Moshe Erlanger, a scholar of kabbalah, Jewish mysticism.

Students at the yeshiva typically returned home one weekend a month, and Erlanger was in Williamsburg one Shabbat when Stein was there. They spoke for hours and the rabbi gave her an important work about kabbalah to read. “For the first time,” Stein recalls now,

“I realized that gender could be fluid.”

At 17, Stein’s parents conducted the requisite research for a girl recommended by a shadchan (matchmaker) and the two met for a b’show at the girl’s married sister’s apartment. While theoretically either of them could have declined the match, when the prospective groom arrived the table was already set to celebrate their engagement. “It’s extremely taboo” to turn down such a match, similar to breaking an engagement in the non-ultra-Orthodox world, says Stein.

The bride called Stein’s mother every week, but Stein herself had no contact with the bride during the year leading up to their wedding. The night before the chuppah, she went to the rebbe’s son for marital instruction. She was told they were to have sex only on Friday and Tuesday nights, after midnight, in the dark and in one position. Gender identity doubts persisted, Stein says, but “I kept telling myself everything would be fine.”

They lived in Monsey and were soon expecting a child. Stein’s feelings rose up anew, she says. “Gender began punching me in the face.” Stein got her hands on a smartphone and, in the bathroom at a mall, began her search. “The first thing I Googled was boy turning into a girl. Then I found a Hebrew Wikipedia page about transgender. I couldn’t read English” (Yiddish is the predominant language among the Satmar sect and in its schools).

She also found an online Israeli forum for trans people. “I realized, ‘Wow, there’s a whole world out there’ and that freaked me out,” says Stein. This was before Caitlyn Jenner and the television show “Transparent,” when there was relatively open, public conversation about trans people.

The couple’s son, Duvid, was born in January 2012; a year later, Stein told her wife that she was a non-believer. They talked about leaving Satmar for a more modern community because “we were still trying to make it work.”

Stein joined the New York-based Footsteps organization, which supports people leaving ultra-Orthodox communities, started taking English as a second language at a local community college, explored various online trans communities and opened a Facebook account as “Chava.” With a Footsteps tutor she prepared to take the high-school equivalency test.

Eventually Stein and her wife separated. She worked in Williamsburg and lived with her parents, with whom she was still close; her wife lived with Duvid at her parents’. At first father and son saw each other weekly, until the wife’s parents decided they could not meet unless their daughter was granted a get, a divorce, and Stein promised not to change her appearance and agreed to see the child just once a month.

Hard-hitting depression

After enrolling in a college-preparation program offered by Columbia University, Stein started spending time at the Hillel Jewish students’ organization on campus, and later applied to the school at Columbia designed for students from non-traditional backgrounds. On her application, which required a lengthy essay, she wrote simply, “I grew up in New York City but until I was 20, I never saw a movie, went to a Broadway show or listened to music” – and was accepted.

Once immersed in studies, Stein hoped her gender identity issues would fade, but several weeks into her first semester depression hit hard; she couldn’t get out of bed. A counselor at the university said he thought the student was hiding something.

Yisroel “Srully” Stein, before coming out as a trans woman named Abby. She is happier than she has ever been before, she says today. Eve Singer By then she had begun using women’s deodorant and letting her hair grow, but wasn’t yet ready to confront gender transitioning head-on. The depression intensified and she looked for a new therapist. At the LGBT center in lower Manhattan, a staffer told Stein she was trans. After working at a Jewish camp that summer, she began to transition. Stein began taking estrogen and a testosterone blocker in September 2015, and started coming out to friends. One showed up with a bag of women’s clothes, another taught her how to apply makeup. She began going to trans support groups.

Stein still dressed outwardly as male though “emotionally it was getting harder” not to make the full transition. She wanted to tell her parents personally about her decision so they didn’t hear it through gossip. One Shabbat, back at home, Stein says she lit candles — solely a woman’s ritual — which she had been doing privately for a year.

“My mother said, ‘You look different,” says Stein, but didn’t ask any specific questions. Taking estrogen has changed Stein, in the interim. A receding hairline has filled in and her hair has grown thicker. Her cheekbones have become fuller, she has breasts and her hips have widened. Her son Duvid, now 5, started calling her “Mama” as soon as she got her ears pierced, she says.

Stein started attending Romemu, a Jewish Renewal, egalitarian Jewish congregation in Manhattan, and became close to its rabbi, David Ingber. He offered to speak with Stein’s father, and they met in late 2015.

“It was the first time [my father] saw me wearing earrings. He said, ‘It would be easier for me to talk to you while you’re wearing a kippah,’” Stein recalls.

Yisroel Stein with his son Duvid and his parents. After Yisroel became Abby, a trans woman, she was called “Mama” by Duvid when she got her ears pierced. Abby Stein Her father, who runs a Williamsburg yeshiva for troubled youth, didn’t say much. “He stayed frozen,” Stein says. “He said, ‘I don’t believe it [transgender] exists.’ I showed him kabbalistic and Hasidic ideas. He said, ‘Why would you do that – women are so much less than men?’ Then he said, ‘You know this means I probably can’t talk to you ever again.’ He stood up, thanked David for taking care of me. He didn’t say goodbye to me, he just walked out the door.”

Her parents have not spoken with her since. Stein called home before the Jewish New Year last fall but got no response from her mother, who answered the phone. “It is painful,” says Stein, who likes baking challah her mother’s way.

Speaking out

Stein had her name legally changed from Yisroel to Abby Chava. Now her birth certificate, driver’s license and school ID indicate that she is female. In an emergency room recently after being hit by a car, a doctor asked when her last menstrual period was. Stein and her ex-wife haven’t spoken directly since their divorce. The woman’s new husband turns Duvid over when Stein comes to pick him up.

Today Stein wears a triangle charm necklace. Two corners bear symbols for male and female, while the third indicates transgender. She is dating a woman. And she is on a waiting list for sexual reassignment surgery.

At Columbia she’s majoring in political science, and women’s and gender studies. She teaches Hebrew school at Romemu and at the Congregation B’nai Jeshurun, and recently started a part-time community engagement job at the Manhattan borough president’s office.

Stein is also writing a memoir, and someone is making a documentary about her. As the only Hasid in America to come out publicly as transgender, she is in great demand as a speaker from Limmud Jewish education organization, to college and LGBTQ groups. She also runs an online support group for Hasidic trans people.

Most importantly, Stein notes now, she has never felt better.

“I experienced cycles of depression since I was 12,” she says. “Now I have mood swings, but I can deal with that by watching Netflix and eating pickles.”

http://ift.tt/2lNO6J3

[mathematicianadda]

More Great Ways to Annoy a Mathematician

Which Ratio is Truly Golden?

I find it troubling that the golden ratio has so little in common with the golden rule.

Like, if you did unto others 1.618 times what you’d have them do unto you, then we’d all wind up exhausted.

And if you’re only doing 1/1.618 times unto them, then isn’t that a bit lazy?

  A Puzzle About Rates

I’ve always enjoyed those puzzles like, “If 3 chickens can lay 3 eggs in 3 days, then how long will it take 100 chickens to lay 100 eggs?” They’re counter-intuitive (e.g., in my example, each chicken lays 1 egg per 3 days, so the answer is also 3 days), yet deal only with simple constant rates.

So what if the rates weren’t constant? Like in, say, a bureaucracy, where 20 times more people will accomplish only 1/20th as much?

(Sorry for putting the answer upside down. It reads: “Please complete the attached form (Z302: Aggregate Task Completion Rate Information Request) and we’ll process your inquiry in 4-6 weeks.”)

  In this case, “a mathematician” refers specifically to Matt Parker, whose excellent book Humble Pi discusses the first two of these mistakes.

  The Asymptote of Happiness

Lots of poets have found asymptotes a convenient literary symbol – the idea of eternal striving is a resonant one (even beyond the eternal striving of the struggling algebra student).

  I love me some Raymond Smullyan.

Sorry again for putting the answer upside down. I dunno why I thought that was a clever idea. Mostly just forces you to turn off the auto-rotate setting on your phone.

Anyway, it reads: “Ask anything. You should already know not to buy lowfat yogurt.”)

  Proving a New Theorem

Not that I’ve ever felt this myself. I’m just speculating.

  P-R-E-N-A-T-A-L

What is parenting, if not a neat LARP?

(LARP = Live-Action Role-Playing Game, for those of you with less geeky acumen than I anticipate my audience to have.)

By the way, my friend Rayleen once described to me a brilliant comic, where one person asks, “When’s the baby due?” and the other person is drawn with a small horizontal stick figure emerging from their stick torso. (See? It’s such a good comic, I can just describe it.)

  The Sales Pitch for Math

I think a lot about the different arguments for math, and the ways that they support or contradict each other. Is it a beautiful art? An urgent set of universal civic skills? Key preparation for technical professions?

The answer is yes to all three. But not for all math, and not all at once – and attempting to blend the purposes can lead to a muddle.

  The Meaning of “Let”

It’s always tickled me that the mathematician’s verb “let,” which sounds so chill and laissez-faire, is actually a binding command.

  “All Happy Families Are Alike; Every Unhappy Family is Unhappy In Its Own Way”

I wrote a bunch of these a few years ago. This one has the benefit of being true: all circles are geometrically similar, but not all ellipses are.

(The same is true, by the way, of parabolas and hyperbolas. The former are all the same basic shape, just zoomed in or zoomed out, whereas the latter constitute a whole family of different shapes.)

(Chew on that, Tolstoy.)

  The Court-Appointed Translator

I wrote this little dialogue after listening to a great episode of The Allusionist, before it turned out that Game of Thrones would suffer the worst collapse in storytelling that I have ever experienced.

Oh well!

As my wife said, “At least this way we’ll never have to bargain with our daughter about when she’s old enough to watch Game of Thrones. The ending is so bad, in 10 or 15 years no one will be watching it anymore.”

  Identity Politics

This is a really dumb pun.

Also one of the more popular cartoons in this list.

Go figure.

  Another Dumb Pun

This one is inspired by that time Malcolm Gladwell referred to eigenvectors as “igon vectors,” and Steven Pinker blasted him for it, at which point Gladwell blasted Pinker for something else, and eventually we all lost the thread and just went about our days.

And if you want more godawful matrix puns, I’ve got ’em.

  I don’t know what day you’re reading this, but guess what? It’s also a bad approximation of pi! So go ahead and celebrate!

(Though if you want some very clever alternative pi days, check out Evelyn Lamb’s page-a-day calendar, which includes a Pi Day each month, and not where you’d expect!)

  Uncountably Many Wishes

After I posted this, there was a bunch of discussion on Twitter about whether I’d mischaracterized the Axiom of Choice, which is totally possible, in which case, oops.

Also, some folks pointed out that it’s pretty greedy to wish for uncountably many wishes, when you could just as easily wish for countably many.

To which I say: What’s the point of a magic lamp, if not to have greed be your undoing?

  Maximization vs. Minimization

For lots of optimization problems, maximizing makes sense, but minimizing doesn’t. (Or vice versa.) An example: What’s the largest rectangle you can make from 4 feet of wire?

It’s the 1-by-1 square, with an area of 1 square foot.

But what’s the smallest rectangle you can make (in terms of area)? Well, you could make the 1.9999 by 0.0001 rectangle, which has a very tiny area…

Or you could make the 1.999999 by 0.000001 rectangle, which has an even smaller area…

Or the 1.99999999999999 by 0.000000000000001 rectangle, whose area is microscopic…

…and so on.

I hope that was worth it! And I suspect it wasn’t! Anyway, moving on.

  More thoughts here.

  The Villainous Mathematician Explains His Plan

Clearly this villain should be assigning more group work.

Anyway, I for one am curious to know how a complex-valued currency might work. I’d pay a hefty fee for an accountant or tax attorney who can turn imaginary assets into real ones, or real debts into imaginary ones.

  The Cat on the Bed

I found it very hard to draw a decent space-filling curve.

Also, to draw a decent cat.

  Only Slept Four Hours

This is how I feel about anyone who sleeps less than 7 hours in a given night.

  Axioms of Life

This is my version of that xkcd about kitties.

Also pretty well summarizes parenthood. I still enjoy a cerebral geek-out, as I always have; but I also really enjoy holding my daughter in my arms and calling her the world’s best monkey over and over.

  How Many Stars?

I would totally read a graphic novel about the dating life of Georg Cantor.

The problem is that no one is going to write this graphic novel except for me.

Oh well. I’m under contract for two more books at the moment, but after that will come TRANSFINITE LOVE: THE ROMANTIC ESCAPADES OF A SET THEORIST.

  Quick-Draw Answers

Drawn from an actual experience, in my first week teaching 7th grade. I hadn’t really figured out how to tee up a problem-solving experience yet.

  Twenty Questions

Drew this one for a Jim Propp essay. Recommended as always!

  A New Proof

A teaching friend of mine had a whole list of proofs that 1 = 0, which he busted out at various developmentally appropriate points in grades 6 through 12.

I love that. Curious how far you could get writing a book of proofs that 1 = 0, each introducing a key idea in mathematics…

Maybe that’ll be my next project after the George Cantor romance novel.

  E = mc

Philosophical question: Is this a pun?

The case against: “A pun is a joke that plays on words that sound similar but mean different things. This isn’t doing that.”

The case for: “A pun is a joke that plays on linguistic expressions with similar surface features, but different deep meanings. This is doing exactly that: the premise of the joke is that an exponent and a footnote are both denoted with a superscript, yet mean very different things.”

So I guess this has a deep resemblance to puns, but lacks a surface resemblance… which is itself, not very pun-like.

Ruling: Not a pun!

  “The Exception Proves the Rule”

I guess you hear this inane phrase less often these days. But there was a time, kiddos, when people could hear a devastating counterexample to what they were arguing, and then blithely say “the exception proves the rule” with a straight face.

  The Math Sequence

I’m pretty agnostic on the math sequence. But I have strong intuitions that Star Wars should be screened in the order: IV, V, I, II, III, VI, and so on. (I view the sequels as pretty optional. Prequels too, for that matter, but if you limit yourself to the original trilogy, it’s a boring problem.)

  The “Same” Age

A lot of people on Facebook seemed to read this as though the right-hand character was creeping on Ariana Grande. Not my intention at all! I just wanted to pick a mid-20s celebrity. Could’ve just as easily been Bieber.

(My primary association with Ariana Grande, by the way, is her performance in the short-lived bar mitzvah-themed Broadway musical Thirteen.)

  Lemniskate

I’m not sure there’s a joke here.

I’m fond of this drawing anyway.

  Linear Child

Michael Pershan, the internet’s most relentlessly analytical math educator, inexplicably loved this joke, so I call it a win.

Someone on social media speculated about the position by which this linear combination had been “conceived,” which I found quite vulgar and upsetting (but which I also sort of invited by drawing a comic about procreating vectors).

  If P, then Q

Where do we draw the line between logical succession, and outright stalking? I leave that to the courts.

  Loons and Lunes

Sometimes I just want to do a cute drawing that has no joke in it, okay?

  The Vertical Line Test

I’m actually skeptical that the phrase “vertical line test” has any value. To me it feels like a fancy name for a fact that doesn’t need a fancy name. And, as in the two-column-proof version of geometry, giving fancy names to facts that students should be reasoning out for themselves can become obfuscatory rather than clarifying.

  Whose Fractal is Whose?

Please join me in making “Patricia gasket” a thing! E.g., “Did you know Copley Square in Boston is the approximate shape of the mathematical figure known as a Patricia Gasket?”

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[mastcomm]

How to Sell a House in Southern California: Make a Movie

Raj Qsar is eyeing the sky nervously. It’s early afternoon in Corona Del Mar, Calif., and his six-man camera crew is on the clock only until sunset. But clouds are rolling in fast over this wealthy Southern California neighborhood, and the next scene on today’s docket — a glamorous drive down the Pacific Coast Highway followed by a beachfront double date — is now feeling tricky.

On other film sets, the producer and director might huddle and order a break, or call it a wrap until tomorrow. But Mr. Qsar isn’t a director — he’s a real estate agent. And the star of his film is not a good-looking young actor (although there are four of those on set), but rather, a $1.7 million Orange County home. This short and sudsy film, he hopes, in which two young couples drink wine, play board games and wander through sleek, neat rooms, will do the trick to attract a buyer.

“Telling stories and creating connections with people takes more than just photos,” said Mr. Qsar, who heads a luxury brokerage called the Boutique Real Estate Group. “For us now, it’s all about the power of video.”

Video marketing is not new territory for home sales — wide-angle walk-throughs of staged living rooms and sweeping drone footage of leafy neighborhoods have become common tools in real estate agents’ kits. But cinematic mini-films, complete with paid actors, lighting crews and full-fledged story boards, are something new.

Mr. Qsar began dabbling in cinematic videos in 2008, just two years after leaving his job as a pharmaceutical sales representative to jump into the Orange County housing boom. He came across a wedding videographer who was producing emotionally charged, story-driven films for brides and grooms, and, he says, a light bulb went on.

“I had an idea about telling the story the same way, but as the story of a house,” he said. “One of the things I always tell my clients when they walk through is, ‘Can you see yourself having Christmas dinner here or birthdays and bar mitzvahs here?’ I wanted to really pull out the emotional aspect.”

After putting the wedding videographer on his payroll and investing $20,000 of his own money in video equipment, he made a handful of short film promotions for homes in the $1 million to $2 million range in Orange County, including a four-bedroom Mediterranean-style estate in Villa Park.

In that video, images of a young blond wife sitting at a piano and singing Frank Sinatra’s “Summer Wind” are spliced with images of a Porsche-driving husband arriving home from work. As he showers upstairs, the wife ushers in a flock of eager friends and children with balloons and sets up a surprise party by the pool. The song reaches its crescendo, the husband descends the stairs, and there’s his family, there’s a cake, and there’s a sweet, picture-perfect backyard celebration.

When that home sold, for $1.7 million, it set a record as the most expensive home sale ever in Villa Park.

“Once real estate agents started doing high-end video productions, putting in models and actors was a no-brainer,” said Jimm Fox, president of OMM Video Marketing, a Canadian agency that tracks trends in cinematic storytelling. “You’re not just selling an address, you’re selling a lifestyle. And to do that, you need humans.”

Production budgets for these films can range from $3,500 to $70,000. Often the real estate agent is picking up the tab, but in some cases, agents discuss their plans with sellers and agree to split the bill or have the costs added to their fees.

Mr. Fox said the trend for Hollywood-style videos kicked off around 2007 and was a natural progression from the lush but empty footage of staged homes that preceded it.

“Real estate at the high end is always an aspirational sell,” he said. “You want to showcase a lifestyle. So you start shooting homes, and then you add models to make it more vibrant, and very soon you want to turn it into a story.”

The Australian production studio PlatinumHD claims to have been the first to produce these Hollywood-style real estate films. In 2011, the studio helped the trend spread internationally by producing a video for the Queensland-based property management firm Neo Property.

In it, a young woman clad only in a lacy bra and panties and bound to a chair inside a hyper-modern luxury home, makes an emergency call for help and is asked to describe where she is. As she describes the home’s chef’s kitchen and waterfront views, its in-house movie theater and its private elevator, a SWAT team descends to rescue her, led by none other than Neo Property’s real estate agents themselves.

The film, of course, is as much about the appeal of the model as the home. But by using sex, helicopters and shots of a gleaming red Corvette to sell the property, Neo made it quite clear: In this sort of marketing, peddling a fantasy can help close a deal.

Ben Bacal began adding actors to his listing videos in 2014. The Los Angeles-based agent, a former film student who also dabbles in internet companies and has more than $2 billion in sales to his name, is a fixture on the high-priced home circuit in Hollywood. He offers his clients a professionally produced video for every home he agrees to represent, and he estimates that in 40 percent of those cases, he includes actors and a story line.

Some are sweet: A home in Bel Air, which he listed in March 2016 for $48.5 million, shows a brother and sister channeling their best Ferris Bueller impressions, faking sickness in their custom bedrooms before dashing out to their backyard infinity pool with skyline views after their parents head off to work. (The home sold for $39 million in December 2016.)

Others are more slapstick, like the film for a home on Rising Glen Road in Los Angeles (the house where the actress Brittany Murphy died), in which an adorable corgi named Sherlock Bones inherits the mansion listed for $18.5 million and heads there to live his best canine life. (That home sold in 2017 for $14.5 million.)

In all of Mr. Bacal’s videos, plots are thin but visuals, and humor, are laid on thick. That’s intentional, he says.

“Instead of telling a long dramatic story, I like to pull characters through the house and do something that makes it voyeuristic, where you can see the property. Focusing too much on story takes away from the home,” he said in a phone call from Mykonos, Greece, where he was on vacation. “I’m not Quentin Tarantino.”

His greatest triumph to date is a home on Hillcrest Road in Beverly Hills. Markus Persson, the Swedish video game programmer behind Minecraft, saw the short film that Mr. Bacal produced for the eight-bedroom, 15-bath home, showing two young women arriving in a Rolls-Royce and enjoying the home’s features, which include a candy room and a 24-seat theater. Beyoncé and Jay-Z were also reportedly interested in the property, which was priced at $85 million. Just seven days after seeing the film, Mr. Persson purchased it for $70 million.

Mr. Bacal credits his success to his ability to not just create compelling footage, but also to distribute it effectively.

He pours cash into boosting the films on YouTube, advertising them across Facebook, Twitter and LinkedIn and promoting them in the right markets. In Mr. Persson’s case, Mr. Bacal had made the decision to promote the mansion not just in the United States but also in Sweden, a decision that paid off.

“It’s not just about creating a 90-second video. It’s also about knowing how to use video to effectively market that property. And that’s going to mean breaking it up into smaller components and using social media platforms to promote it,” said Mr. Fox, the Canadian marketing executive.

It makes sense that Hollywood-style promotional real estate is hitting a peak in Southern California, said Jonathan Miller, a New York City-based real estate appraiser and consultant. That’s because the high-end market from Los Angeles to San Diego is flush with inventory, creating longer marketing time, reduced foot traffic at open houses and greater competition between agents.

“In a market where there’s escalating supply but still anchored to another time, the sellers are trying to market much more creatively,” Mr. Miller said. In his mind, the sleeker and more expert-looking the video, the more likely it is that the seller is trying to justify a high price tag.

“When I see these videos, or something like a camel at an open house, that’s a clear sign of something that’s overpriced,” he said.

Mr. Qsar, the Orange County real estate agent, produces a video for every home that he represents, spending from $2,500 to the low six figures to produce them. He pays out of his own pocket. While he has had eight-figure listings, most of his sales are in the $1 million to $2 million range.

“Fifteen years ago, I never thought I’d be shooting films,” said Mr. Qsar. “I had a day job and just wanted to sell a couple houses and see what happened. But then I sold 10 and then 15 and 20, and then social media hit, and I thought, ‘O.K., how can I be different?’”

In the hypercompetitive world of Southern California real estate, he said, it’s worth it because his videos give him a definitive edge.

“Our listings are recognizable before they even hit the market, because people see them on social media,” he said. “So now, every time I get together with my team on a house, the first question we ask is, ‘What is the story going to be on this house?’”

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[biofunmy]

How to Sell a House in Southern Calfornia: Make a Movie

Raj Qsar is eyeing the sky nervously. It’s early afternoon in Corona Del Mar, Calif., and his six-man camera crew is on the clock only until sunset. But clouds are rolling in fast over this wealthy Southern California neighborhood, and the next scene on today’s docket — a glamorous drive down the Pacific Coast Highway followed by a beachfront double date — is now feeling tricky.

On other film sets, the producer and director might huddle and order a break, or call it a wrap until tomorrow. But Mr. Qsar isn’t a director — he’s a real estate agent. And the star of his film is not a good-looking young actor (although there are four of those on set), but rather, a $1.7 million Orange County home. This short and sudsy film, he hopes, in which two young couples drink wine, play board games and wander through sleek, neat rooms, will do the trick to attract a buyer.

“Telling stories and creating connections with people takes more than just photos,” said Mr. Qsar, who heads a luxury brokerage called the Boutique Real Estate Group. “For us now, it’s all about the power of video.”

Video marketing is not new territory for home sales — wide-angle walk-throughs of staged living rooms and sweeping drone footage of leafy neighborhoods have become common tools in real estate agents’ kits. But cinematic mini-films, complete with paid actors, lighting crews and full-fledged story boards, are something new.

Mr. Qsar began dabbling in cinematic videos in 2008, just two years after leaving his job as a pharmaceutical sales representative to jump into the Orange County housing boom. He came across a wedding videographer who was producing emotionally charged, story-driven films for brides and grooms, and, he says, a light bulb went on.

“I had an idea about telling the story the same way, but as the story of a house,” he said. “One of the things I always tell my clients when they walk through is, ‘Can you see yourself having Christmas dinner here or birthdays and bar mitzvahs here?’ I wanted to really pull out the emotional aspect.”

After putting the wedding videographer on his payroll and investing $20,000 of his own money in video equipment, he made a handful of short film promotions for homes in the $1 million to $2 million range in Orange County, including a four-bedroom Mediterranean-style estate in Villa Park.

In that video, images of a young blond wife sitting at a piano and singing Frank Sinatra’s “Summer Wind” are spliced with images of a Porsche-driving husband arriving home from work. As he showers upstairs, the wife ushers in a flock of eager friends and children with balloons and sets up a surprise party by the pool. The song reaches its crescendo, the husband descends the stairs, and there’s his family, there’s a cake, and there’s a sweet, picture-perfect backyard celebration.

When that home sold, for $1.7 million, it set a record as the most expensive home sale ever in Villa Park.

“Once real estate agents started doing high-end video productions, putting in models and actors was a no-brainer,” said Jimm Fox, president of OMM Video Marketing, a Canadian agency that tracks trends in cinematic storytelling. “You’re not just selling an address, you’re selling a lifestyle. And to do that, you need humans.”

Production budgets for these films can range from $3,500 to $70,000. Often the real estate agent is picking up the tab, but in some cases, agents discuss their plans with sellers and agree to split the bill or have the costs added to their fees.

Mr. Fox said the trend for Hollywood-style videos kicked off around 2007 and was a natural progression from the lush but empty footage of staged homes that preceded it.

“Real estate at the high end is always an aspirational sell,” he said. “You want to showcase a lifestyle. So you start shooting homes, and then you add models to make it more vibrant, and very soon you want to turn it into a story.”

The Australian production studio PlatinumHD claims to have been the first to produce these Hollywood-style real estate films. In 2011, the studio helped the trend spread internationally by producing a video for the Queensland-based property management firm Neo Property.

In it, a young woman clad only in a lacy bra and panties and bound to a chair inside a hyper-modern luxury home, makes an emergency call for help and is asked to describe where she is. As she describes the home’s chef’s kitchen and waterfront views, its in-house movie theater and its private elevator, a SWAT team descends to rescue her, led by none other than Neo Property’s real estate agents themselves.

The film, of course, is as much about the appeal of the model as the home. But by using sex, helicopters and shots of a gleaming red Corvette to sell the property, Neo made it quite clear: In this sort of marketing, peddling a fantasy can help close a deal.

Ben Bacal began adding actors to his listing videos in 2014. The Los Angeles-based agent, a former film student who also dabbles in internet companies and has more than $2 billion in sales to his name, is a fixture on the high-priced home circuit in Hollywood. He offers his clients a professionally produced video for every home he agrees to represent, and he estimates that in 40 percent of those cases, he includes actors and a story line.

Some are sweet: A home in Bel Air, which he listed in March 2016 for $48.5 million, shows a brother and sister channeling their best Ferris Bueller impressions, faking sickness in their custom bedrooms before dashing out to their backyard infinity pool with skyline views after their parents head off to work. (The home sold for $39 million in December 2016.)

Others are more slapstick, like the film for a home on Rising Glen Road in Los Angeles (the house where the actress Brittany Murphy died), in which an adorable corgi named Sherlock Bones inherits the mansion listed for $18.5 million and heads there to live his best canine life. (That home sold in 2017 for $14.5 million.)

In all of Mr. Bacal’s videos, plots are thin but visuals, and humor, are laid on thick. That’s intentional, he says.

“Instead of telling a long dramatic story, I like to pull characters through the house and do something that makes it voyeuristic, where you can see the property. Focusing too much on story takes away from the home,” he said in a phone call from Mykonos, Greece, where he was on vacation. “I’m not Quentin Tarantino.”

His greatest triumph to date is a home on Hillcrest Road in Beverly Hills. Markus Persson, the Swedish video game programmer behind Minecraft, saw the short film that Mr. Bacal produced for the eight-bedroom, 15-bath home, showing two young women arriving in a Rolls-Royce and enjoying the home’s features, which include a candy room and a 24-seat theater. Beyoncé and Jay-Z were also reportedly interested in the property, which was priced at $85 million. Just seven days after seeing the film, Mr. Persson purchased it for $70 million.

Mr. Bacal credits his success to his ability to not just create compelling footage, but also to distribute it effectively.

He pours cash into boosting the films on YouTube, advertising them across Facebook, Twitter and LinkedIn and promoting them in the right markets. In Mr. Persson’s case, Mr. Bacal had made the decision to promote the mansion not just in the United States but also in Sweden, a decision that paid off.

“It’s not just about creating a 90-second video. It’s also about knowing how to use video to effectively market that property. And that’s going to mean breaking it up into smaller components and using social media platforms to promote it,” said Mr. Fox, the Canadian marketing executive.

It makes sense that Hollywood-style promotional real estate is hitting a peak in Southern California, said Jonathan Miller, a New York City-based real estate appraiser and consultant. That’s because the high-end market from Los Angeles to San Diego is flush with inventory, creating longer marketing time, reduced foot traffic at open houses and greater competition between agents.

“In a market where there’s escalating supply but still anchored to another time, the sellers are trying to market much more creatively,” Mr. Miller said. In his mind, the sleeker and more expert-looking the video, the more likely it is that the seller is trying to justify a high price tag.

“When I see these videos, or something like a camel at an open house, that’s a clear sign of something that’s overpriced,” he said.

Mr. Qsar, the Orange County real estate agent, produces a video for every home that he represents, spending from $2,500 to the low six figures to produce them. He pays out of his own pocket. While he has had eight-figure listings, most of his sales are in the $1 million to $2 million range.

“Fifteen years ago, I never thought I’d be shooting films,” said Mr. Qsar. “I had a day job and just wanted to sell a couple houses and see what happened. But then I sold 10 and then 15 and 20, and then social media hit, and I thought, ‘O.K., how can I be different?’”

In the hypercompetitive world of Southern California real estate, he said, it’s worth it because his videos give him a definitive edge.

“Our listings are recognizable before they even hit the market, because people see them on social media,” he said. “So now, every time I get together with my team on a house, the first question we ask is, ‘What is the story going to be on this house?’”

Sahred From Source link Real Estate

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[rabbiandrewrosenblatt]

Measures and their Vices

In 1981, Charles Goodhart of the London School of Economics unwittingly made himself famous and nearly undermined his entire discipline by introducing what is now known as Goodhart’s law. Goodhart’s law claims that once an economic measure is known and targeted, it will cease to become a good measure. That might seem abstract, but there are ample examples to illustrate the point.

British Hospitals were told to improve emergency room waiting times, from when patients arrived at the triage desk until they were seen by medical staff. Instead of improving actual wait times, hospital administrators improved the wait time statistics. They began to have paramedics hold patients in the ambulances in hospital parking lots until staff were certain that patients could be seen quickly.

Another famous example is in Soviet factories where the number of nails produced was the original target metric. Workers were supposed to make tiny nails. The government wanted factories to produce more of them. However, management switched to measuring production by the weight of the nails. So, the workers produced fewer, but much heavier nails.  

Torah law also experiences the ripples of Goodhart’s law in how we measure Jewishness. Our measure is often the simple binary of whether or not one’s mother is Jewish. If so, then, one is counted as Jewish. This is Halacha. I am not questioning the law itself. Rather, I am challenging the consequence of using this metric of Judaism generally.

I might be on shaky theological ground if such a challenge had not been leveled by the prophet Yechezkel (Ezekiel in English) in a slightly different context. Yechezkel was the first prophet since Moses to contend with the identity struggles of Jewish people in exile or outside of the land of Israel. He, too, confronted the problem of maintaining Jewish identity against the tide of a different culture. His milieu was Babylon, whereas ours is Western culture. However, the problem of maintaining the identity of a minority culture amidst the lure of the dominant culture remains the same.

Yechzkel took issue with the determination of the status of a Kohen (priest) by virtue of lineage. He rejected lineage as the test of priesthood in favour of requiring a merit test. If one were among the Kohanim who introduced perverted behaviours and rituals, or among those who were engaged in graft, one had to step aside. Only Kohanim who had a record of virtue were to be allowed to serve in the Third Temple.

Imagine if the prophet Yechezkel in 2019 announced that we are no longer accepting just anyone with a Jewish parent for synagogue membership or Israeli citizenship. Imagine that he said that membership would only be granted to those who passed an exam. Imagine that the exam form looked a little like the application for Canadian immigration - in which applicants must earn sufficient points to merit entry. In Canada, one get points for speaking English and or French, points how much money one has saved to bring into the country, and points for one’s educational level.

In our imaginary Jewish metric, there might be points for speaking Hebrew and Aramaic. There might be points for how much Talmud, Jewish philosophy, Bible, or Halacha knowledge one could demonstrate. There might be points for how many hours one has contributed as a volunteer to the sick, the needy, the school, or the synagogue. There might be points for how much money one has given to charity relative to their income.

Imagine if you were not permitted to have a Bar or Bat Mitzvah celebration until you had earned enough points. It seems to me that is what Yechezkel did in his days with regard to the Kohanim. He changed the metric.

A few weeks ago, I heard Dr. Erica Brown, Director of the Mayberg Center for Jewish Education and Leadership at George Washington University, speak about teaching Torah to adults. She made a similar challenge to the metric of Jewishness. She said that there is a downside to passing Jewishness automatically, without asking young people to earn it. Her example is the Birthright Program, in which teens and young adults who can prove that they have a Jewish grandparent get a free trip to Israel. Her comparison point was the Mormon teens who must take on missionary work after high school. These young adults are asked to explain their faith to those entirely unfamiliar with it. For young Mormons, it is a test, a challenge. It challenges them to know their faith, which in turn causes them to value their faith. Her suggestion was not that Jewish teens become missionaries, but rather that a challenge, an experience that feels more earned than bequeathed would serve our young people better.

Abraham had to earn his portion in ten tests. Rabbi Yossi in Pirke Avot says do not consider Torah your inheritance; consider it a text that you must acquire through study and diligence. Many a Jewish parent and grandparent whispers into the ear of their baby to marry Jewish. As children grow and mature into adulthood, family, teachers, community leaders alike tell them that – at a minimum - they should find a spouse who is Jewish by genealogy. I know this to be true. Many have confessed to me saying this because of their fear and sadness about the spectre of assimilation in their families, in our community.

I would counsel all as follows. You will be victims of Goodhart's law if all you measure is the genealogical result of a “23 and Me” DNA test. We owe ourselves more. The Jewish people have an alumni list better than Harvard or Stanford. Our metrics should reflect the quality of the commitment more than merely  the content of the chromosomes.