Amulike Kugel is Now A Thing, Apparently

Guest Post by @azigra

A friends of mine just posted this picture on Facebook. It's a Satmar brand "Amulike" Kugel with of course the ingredients listed (which if read too quickly seems to contain "male forshken" among other things) as well as the entire verse of Timche Ess Zecher Amulike Mitachas HaShumayim Loi Tishkuch. 

As an aside, I am not familiar with the word "Amulike" and have no clue what language that is from.

Search for more information about AMULIKE at4torah.com SHOP AT MY GRILL STORE

Absence of Self-Awareness Alert

Seven Israeli Bes Yaakov girls were punished this week for daring to stand up during the Yom Hashoa moment of silence. The reason? A moment of silence is "goyish" not Jewish, and those who observe it are embracing a foreign custom.

Sigh.

And, I suppose that once upon a time bes yaakov girls were expelled from school for wearing masks on Purim.

For my critics

I've been asked:

Why do you delight in describing the origins of our customs and rituals? Is Purim improved after you've discovered that our custom of masquerading was copied from Gentiles? Is Chanukkah made better when you know that we light candles for eight days because the original Chanukkah was a late Sukkos? How can you sit at the Seder with any sort of Jewish feeling if you believe/know that many of its forms were copied from Greek banquets?

My answer:

What's better? To sit in a room with the lights off, or with the lights on? Finding out the origins of some of the Seder's forms and rituals (as well as seeing how the Sages improved/changed them l'shem shamayim) is like putting on the light.

More Purim Lore

I think this is pretty well known, but judging from the appalled looks I received this weekend, I guess I was wrong. So for the record (via Wikipedia):

There are two possible origins of the name. The most popular theory is that the name hamantash (המן־טאַש), which literally means "Haman's pocket," is a reference to Haman (also known as Homen), the villain of Purim, as described in the Book of Esther. This theory has no basis in fact. A more likely source of the name is a corruption of the Yiddish word מאן־טאשן (montashn) or the German word mohntaschen, both meaning poppyseed-filled pouches.[1] Over time, this name was transformed to hamantashen, likely by association with Haman. In Israel, they are called אוזני המן (Oznei Haman), Hebrew for "Haman's ears."

Feel free to say "duh."

Why do we rattle noisemakers at the mention of Haman's name?

Another old post; last one I promise.

Why do we rattle noisemakers at the mention of Haman's name?

There's a temptation to link the practice of noise making in the synagogue to the verse 'Thou shalt blot out the remembrance of Amalek' (Deut. xxv. 19)' but I've found no evidence that this custom existed prior to the middle ages.

Most everything you can find using Google, will agree with Wikipedia which attributes the custom to:

French and German rabbis of the thirteenth century who introduced the custom of writing the name of Haman, the offspring of Amalek, on two smooth stones and of knocking or rubbing them constantly until the name was blotted out. Ultimately, however, the stones fell into disuse, the knocking alone remaining. Some wrote the name of Haman on the soles of their shoes, and at the mention of the name stamped with their feet as a sign of contempt; others used for the same purpose a rattle--called 'gregar' (from Polish grzgarz), and producing much noise--a custom which is still observed by the Russo-Polish Jews.

Interesting, but our familiar problem remains. How was the custom established? What brought it into being? Did the French and German rabbis of the thirteenth century meet at an Aguda convention, where they resolved that a new custom was needed? If so, where is the record of their proclamation? Did they vote? Was there debate? Were other ideas considered?

Or were the Rabbis of medieval Europe simply as promiscuous about introducing new customs as our modern Rabbis are about issuing bans?

Analogues [Sources and other material]
Our question ("How was this custom brought into being?") becomes stronger when you consider two non-Jewish practices. Of course, neither analogue comes with a signed note asserting that it is the official antecedent of our Purim custom; still they are interesting.

In Jewish Festivals A Guide to Their History and Observance, Hayyim Schauss maintains (page 265) that ancient people thought themselves vulnerable to the influence of evil spirits and would often made loud noises for the purpose of driving the spirits away. Haman, you will remember, was the name of the Persian underworld demon. Possibly, driving away the demon at springtime was a pagan rite the Jews borrowed.

Another idea, cited by Tzidkuni, suggests the custom has a direct Christian antecedent. He writes that on the first night of Passover, Christian children would go through the streets of Jewish neighborhoods and congregate around the synagogues with noisemakers to eradicate the memory of Judas Iscariot. On that night, the priests would also 'eradicate the memory' of Judas with great noisemakers or by pounding sticks upon wooden boards suspended from the Church steeples.

Is it a coincidence that Jews, Christians and pagans all had a spring noise rite connected to the eradication of a despised character? Perhaps. Is there a firm link between the three customs? No. But this blog was not created to promote certainty. This blog was created (in part) to throw sand in the eyes of people who insist that everything Jews do today was known to Moshe and his Sanhedrin (bearing in mind, of course, that Sanhedrin is a Greek loan word, making it unlikely that Moshe had anything of the sort. See? I did it again.)

Blogging and pashkevels

Last night I received an urgent message from UOJ. He'd written a letter and wanted it posted on my blog and some others at exactly 10 PM. Unfortunately, I was deep into Purim at the time, and missed the deadline. The letter is now here. I encourage you to read it.

The more I see from UOJ, the more I'm reminded of Joyce, Jun. Joyce, Jun. was the most famous of several colonial-era bloggers. Around the time of the Revolution, he and other like him left signs, called broadsides, on trees and buildings. The signs were anonymous, and they were used to criticize, complain and threaten - much like how our man UOJ uses his blog. Often, the broadsides were reprinted in newspapers, too.

[The name Joyce Jun, incidently, has an origin appropriate to Purim. The tradition in colonial New England was to celebrate Guy Fawkes Day (called Pope's Day on this side of the pond) by putting an effigy of the Pope on a wheeled stage (with attendants dressed as the devil, or of the anti-Christ) and push them through town amid mobs of revelers who marched through town in masquerade, eating and drinking at every stop. Boston. because of it's size, had two Popes, one for the North side and one for the South side. Every year the two liquor-sodden groups would meet and riot, with each side trying to take the others Pope. [More here]

In Boston, the commander of the mob was called "Joyce Jun.", after Cornet Joyce, the man who arrested Charles I. Later, the famous broadsider took his name.]

The broadsiding tradition lives on in Jerusalem, where they are called pashkevils. [More]

Perhaps someone can explain why Agudat Yisroel objects loudly and publicly to blogs, but not to anonymous pashkevils? Essentially, aren't they the same?

Magilla Meme

This first appeared last year.

Over at Ren Reb a new and exciting meme has been created:

Things I think about during magilla reading (besides Russel Crowe).

And though she hasn't exactly tagged me (Ren Reb looks, but she doesn't touch) I thought I'd play along. So here, in no particular order, are some of the thoughts that danced through my sugar and caffeine deprived mind on Monday night.

* Man, I can lain so much better than this dope. How many more notes is he going to miss? Why don't they ever ask me to read the megillah? I bet it's because I say Achash-vey-rosh instead of Achash-vey-roysh. That's it, I just know it. Well, screw them.*

* Why didn't they have co-ed parties in ancient Persia? I mean, how pious were these people, that Vashti and the women were kept separate from Achashveyrosh and the men? And if all that separation didn't help the ancient court of Persia stay proper and moral, why do 21st century Jews think it's worth doing?

* Hey, it doesn't say anywhere that Vashti was killed. Only that her estate was taken away. I have read the megillah maybe 1000 times. How did I miss that? Suddenly, I feel like an old friend of mine who reached the ripe old age of 30 without realizing that the story of Abraham smashing the idols is nowhere in the Hebrew bible. Or the friend who reacts with shock, horror and disgust whenever he's told that Rashi's understanding of a particular verse is rejected by rabbis of equal stature. It's a little scary how the things we're taught as kids can be so powerful - and misleading.

* Why don't the kids and adults who swarm around the shul looking for handouts on Purim ever say anything when they ask you for your money? They just stick their hand in your face and sort of shake it. You're supposed to guess what they want, and who they are collecting for, I guess. Some of them even do this right in the middle of davening. You can be saying shema, or even shmona esray and some scarecrow will come over and rattle his hand under your nose. My policy is to ignore people who don't speak, and to pummel people who bother me during prayers. I confess I am not as religious as I should be about following this policy, but I plan to work on my shortcoming, so that next year I am ready.

* Esther 4:13-14 is an awesome verse (and I am not just saying that because Ren Reb did, too. ) Aside from all the things RenReb likes about it, I also appreciate the lack of certainty. When Mordichai tells Esther she needs to speak up for her people, he doesn't say,"There are no coincidences! The only reason you became queen is because the Jews need your help!" No. What he says is: "And who knows maybe it's for just this purpose [i.e., to save the Jewish people] that you became queen?" Get that everyone? Mordichai is unsure. And he's not so vulgar as to speak for God, even when his life, and the life of everyone he knows, is on the line. Nowadays, GOP-Jews would probably chastise Mordichai for his lack of faith, ("What do you mean? Of course Esther became queen for the sake of saving the Jews.") but GOP-Jews would have also probably bowed down to Haman, too. ("Come on! The evangelical idol worshippers are our best friends ever! No one loves Jews like they do!")

Keep the meme alive! What did you think about during megillah reading?

I am tagging... [Note: Remarks about other bloggers were written last year, and are intended as jokes. If you are the blogger and this distrbs you, tell me and I will take it down]

Ezzie: ("What a bunch of Democrats those liberal, hedonist Persians were, raising taxes and wasting money on luxurious parties. I bet there were lots of movie stars and celebrities at those parties, too.)

Chardal: ("Man, I love Purim, and not just because we get to slaughter our enemies with extreme malice. Really!)

CWY: ("The liberal media sure did a job on Haman. As the Wall Street Journal makes clear, Haman's concern was national security, and only a liberal-weenie-wimp would object to a program that makes your country safer and stronger.")

Suppose one of the bochrim made a wrong turn?

Click

PSA

Rabbi Dr. Abraham Twerski s’hlita: (from a letter attributed to him, and distributed by email)

Rabbi Shneur Zalman in his Shulchan Aruch (529) says, "It is impossible to serve Hashem either in levity or drunkenness."

One of the final authorities on halacha, the Chafetz Chaim in Mishna Berura (695) states clearly that the proper thing to do is not to drink to intoxication, but rather to drink just a bit more than is customary (which would be a glass or two of wine), and go to sleep. This is the proper way to fulfil "not distinguishing between 'cursed be Haman' and 'blessed be Mordechai.'

There is certainly no justification for drinking anything but wine. Aruch Hashulchan (695) condemns drinking spirits (liquor) in very sharp terms. Alcohol intoxication is an abomination, and overriding the rulings of the Baal Hatanya and the Chafetz Chaim by drinking to intoxication is inexcusable.

I agree with the Rabbi Doctor. Drinking on Purim is disgusting, and the people who imagine that they are liquoring up in the name of God are deceiving themselves.

An old Purim post about Robbie and costumes

Robbie is Right...about costumes

The man who never tires of reminding us that he's in his twenties and we are not, has a sharp insight about Purim:

"It's just that we're told we wear costumes because just like God's face was hidden during the Purim story, so are ours... let's think about this for a sec:We want to celebrate that God decided to leave us to fend for ourselves andturn away from us... Seriously, do we really want to emulate an absent God? Oh, and while we're celebrating the fact that we were deserted, let's get so drunkthat we can't tell the difference between good things and evil things, because nothing bad ever happens when you're [drunk]"

I don't know how to answer Robbie, except to remind him that we don't wear masks "because God hid his face." Rather, we wear masks because once upon a time the Jews lived among a community of Catholics who celebrated Carnival with masquerades. It looked cool, so the Jews did it, too.

Sidebar:
When you think about it, the whole idea of Carnival is pretty twisted. It's a last chance to indulge for Catholics who are about to enter Lent, a solemn season of fasting and repentance. Sort of as if we partied in the street, Purim-style, immediately before Ellul, or the Asres Yemai Teshuva.

Carnival is additionally the source of such excellent and wholesome traditions as the Palio (forced races of near naked Jews through the streets of Rome) and the annual Mardi-Gras beads-for-breasts exchange on the streets of New Orleans. It's a good thing the Rabbis we rely on are so poor at history: If they knew our Purim practices could be traced back to the source of such unseemly rituals, we'd surely be back in suits and ties at Purim-time.

Things about Purim that raise questions

I ran this last year, and the year before that, too. Oh, well you know what they say: mee she nichnas adar marbim old posts

~

Well, the Purim season is off to it's traditional start: The price of wine has gone up, the mosdos are clamoring for support, and [something true, but a little mean about another blogger, now no longer relvant.]

Anyway, I suppose it's time for me to get in on the Purim fun, while first making clear that this post is from last year, and also, I don't care one whit about the origins of Purim: No matter what the skeptics have to say about how Purim came into being, the fact is Purim has been around for a long, long time, and it's a day full of great fun.

Things about Purim that bother me
In no particular order

1) The Persian sources are't especially gap-filled yet they contain no references to the events described in Megilas Esther. There's no record of a King Ahashverosh, a Queen Vashti, a decreee to kill Jews, or of Jews killing thousands of their enemies. Why wasn't any of this recorded?

2) The names Haman, Esther and Mordechai sound suspiciously like those of Babylonian gods, making it possible that our story is a retelling, maybe a parody, of some ancient folktale or myth. In Persian mythology Ishtar is the goddess of fertility; Marduk is the god of the heavens; and Haman is the devil. Is this a strange coincidance? A deliberate parody? Or (more) proof that the whole 'lo shanu et shimon/they didn't change their names' is just so much Haredi bushwah?

3) Esther is a Jewish woman, living well after the Torah was given. So what is she doing in a harem, paying no attention to dietary laws? And, is anyone else concerned that Mordechai seems to have been the original funny-uncle?

4) Late in the story, a guy named Hatach appears. Essentially, he's Esther's messanger-boy, yet the Rabbis insisted he was the very famous Daniel. Why is this necessary?

5) Early in the story, the King receives advice from a man named Me'muchan. The Rabbis insist that this is Haman. Why is this necessary?

6) The Rabbis also insisted the Vashti had a tail. WITN?

7) Hasidim make a fetish of mispronouncing Mordechai's name. Instead of Mor-DOH- Chai, they say Mud-cha. WITN?

A question I can answer: In the Megillah, Esther three-day fast is long before Purim, so why is Ta'anit Esther, the rabbinic fast day, on 13 Adar, the day before Purim?

Short Answer:
The Rabbis were shrewd at politics.

Long Answer:
Second Temple Jews had a Maccabean holiday that the Rabbi's disliked, called Nicanor Day, celebrated on 13 Adar. The Rabbis also disliked the Maccabees and therefore turned their big day into a solemn fast.

Purim Protest

Received via email, from the "OLD TIMER":

With Purim right around the corner, we have people who have the chutzpah to collect TZEDAKAH, while riding around in luxurious stretch Excalibur limousines that rent for close to $100 an hour after the mandatory 20% gratuities are figured in. This is the height of hypocrisy that you have to expend $1,000 to $1,200 to show off, and then expect ordinary folks like myself to give you a handout to pay for it. This is not what TZEDAKAH is all about. If someone comes to my door on Purim in a limousine I will not answer the door. Let them find another sucker.

Harsh words, but not unreasonable. I know why the limos are used: They make the experience more fun for the kids who collect, meaning more of them will be likely to participate. But, I fully understand the Old Timer's objection: When I give money to a charity, I want it used for the charity's mission, not wasted on frills.

The video I've been waiting for

[First appeared December 3, 2004; There's new and important material beneath it]

I do not like the holiday season, and I do not like the fact that it is called "the holiday season." Who are we kidding, please? This is the Christmas season. Our holiday season is in Tishrei. Calling December the holiday season is a wee bit condecending, I think, when the only non-Christian holiday in sight is Chanukkah, a minor, no-account, little festival. Suppose we were the big, bad majority, and we declared Tishrei the American Holiday Season on the grounds that it contains Rosh Hashona, Yom Kippur, Sukkos and also Columbus Day. Do you think the gentiles might be peeved?

Chanuka is more our Columbus Day than our Christmas. We light some candles, and sing some songs. As an observance this pales next to our real holidays, like the High Holy Days, Passover, Sukkot, even Purim. So it bothers me just a little that the non-Jews deign to notice us (and to congratulate themselves for noticing us) only when they are celebrating something themselves.

And the next non-Jewish person who says, "oh, you get eight nights of presents," gets hit.

Our good friends at Slate ran a story several years ago that explains how Chanuka became "the Jewish Christmas"? It's worth a second look.

---NEW MATERIAL---

Every year, I waste precious hours of my life explaining to thoughtful and well-meaning gentiles that Hanukka isn't the Jewish Christmas. Soemtimes I send them to the Slate article referenced above. Sometimes I try to explain their error myself. And sometimes I just grunt in exasperation. Next year, thanks to the most excellent ChayyaiSarah I have a new solution: This video. It's cute, entertaining, and absolutely spot on.

The Kolel Job

Received by email from an Israeli who wishes to remain anonymous

Many times we hear statements like this I'm sure the average Kollel person spends more time working than most other professions.

I would like to respond to this statement. This is actually not true at all. The typical Kollel schedule in Israel is something like this.

9:15 - 1:15 morning seder
1:15 (1:20 in the summer) - Mincha
1:30 -3:30 - Break
3:30 - 6:45 - afternoon seder
6:45 Maariv in the winter

A little over 7 hours a day learning with a 2 hour break in the middle of the day. This is the official schedule (the fact that many people learn more is nice but irrelevant), I would bet that most of the people reading this who work for a living would love to have a schedule like that and that they work much longer hours, I know that I do. I believe that the schedule in America in places like Lakewood is very similar.

Now let's factor in all the days off.

Erev Yom Kippur - Rosh Chodesh Cheshvan 20 days - 15 work days
Chanukka - seder ends early enough (around 4PM) in order to be able to
light candles at the proper time
Purim 2 days off
Fast days - 1/2 a day
Nisan - 30 days - 22 work days
Tisha B'av - Rosh Chodesh Elul - 3 weeks 15 work days

If you add it all up it comes out to approximately 60 days off in a year. The average worker in Israel gets 15 vacation days and 8-10 holidays, a grand total of 25 less then half. In America the average worker starts at 10 days vacation with 10-12 holidays again less then half.

In other words someone who claims that Toraso U'mnaso actually "works" much less then the average person who works for a living.

Of course, people will claim, but they learn night seder, Friday mornings etc. The answer is that is nice but irrelevant. I also learn night seder. The fact is that they are getting paid (and in Israel exempt from the army as toras u'mnaso) for the 7+ hours they learn a day. Night seder is not part of the job. Kollel guys learn night seder just like professionals learn night seder (or they get paid to learn at night as well in addition to what they get paid during the day.), because they want to learn Torah. Their job is 7+ hours a day. In Israel in hi tech the work week is typically 45 hours a week (9 hours a day). I would expect kollel guys to at least match that.

Purim Spoof Finale

Take a guess

Because I'm In My Twenties and It's What You Do

Robbie is Right
...about costumes

The man who never tires of reminding us that he's in his twenties and we are not, has a sharp insight about Purim:

"It's just that we're told we wear costumes because just like God's face was hidden during the Purim story, so are ours... let's think about this for a sec:

We want to celebrate that God decided to leave us to fend for ourselves and turn away from us... Seriously, do we really want to emulate an absent God? Oh, and while we're celebrating the fact that we were deserted, let's get so drunk that we can't tell the difference between good things and evil things, because nothing bad ever happens when you're [drunk]"

I don't know how to answer Robbie, except to remind him that we don't wear masks "because God hid his face." Rather, we wear masks because once upon a time the Jews lived among a community of Catholics who celebrated Carnival with masquerades. It looked cool, so the Jews did it, too.

Sidebar:

When you think about it, the whole idea of Carnival is pretty twisted. It's a last chance to indulge for Catholics who are about to enter Lent, a solemn season of fasting and repentance. Sort of as if we partied in the street, Purim-style, immediately before Ellul, or the Asres Yemai Teshuva.

Carnival is additionally the source of such excellent and wholesome traditions as the Palio (forced races of near naked Jews through the streets of Rome) and the annual Mardi-Gras beads-for-breasts exchange on the streets of New Orleans. It's a good thing the Rabbis we rely on are so poor at history: If they knew our Purim practices could be traced back to the source of such unseemly rituals, we'd surely be back in suits and ties at Purim-time.

Earth to Flatbush

According to Maimonides, the supreme mitzvah of Purim is not (a) drinking, or (b) feasting, or (c) sending gifts to friends, or (d) running around in limousines, dressed like cartoon characters, extorting money for yeshivos, but (e) giving to the poor, 'for there is no greater of more splendid joy than uplifting the hearts of poor people, orphans, widows and strangers. Indeed, to do that is to resemble God.' "

Put that in your pipes and smoke it, GOP-Jews.

Al ha'mar v'hamatok

It's two days after Purim, and we still can't see my dining room table, which is sagging under the weight of approximately eight metric tons of miniature candy bars. My kids, of course, are in heaven. They spent the better part of yesterday dividing up the loot under the strict direction of my eldest daughter, who helpfully reminds the other kids of their likes and dislikes.

"Oh," she'll say to my unsuspecting 5-year old, "You HATE Supersnacks, and the last time you ate an Egozi you got hives. But remember how much you like pomegranate juice? And prune humantachen? You LOVE prune humantachen. Here. Take six. And just to keep things fair, these six chocolate bars are mine."

My wife, and I don't interrupt, of course, because we don't like prune humantachen, either. Let the five-year old have them.

In fact, as it turns out, most of the crap we collected (Oooze, RenReb calls it) isn't meant for human consumption: Sardines? Mangos? Mishpacha brand raisins? Mishpacha brand grape juice? I'm also no fan of most of the candy we get. Sour sticks, for instance, are sour, and sour is BAD. A candy that curls your toes and makes you eyes tear is not a treat. It is a sick joke.

Though most of what we received was quickly squirreled away by my kids, or dumped on my unsuspecting co-workers, I did grab a few items for my private enjoyment. The short list of things I really liked follows:

1 - A bottle of McCallum 18. You, who brought me this fine gift, are my new best friend. I confess to a mite of suspicion about what you might want in return, but we'll worry about that when the bottle is empty.

2 - The bottles of wine. We got about six. Nothing too fancy, or especially expensive, but not bat urine either.

3 - A round of Gouda cheese. It was gone within an hour, and it was fantastic.

4 - Deli roll, packed with a bottle of beer. In that house, obviously, the man is in charge of preparing the baskets. Woman take note: We don't like fancy baked goods. We like meat and beer. Well done, sir!

5 - The chocolate covered cherries. We also like chocolate covered cherries. And Jelly Rings.

6 - All hard candies. I love hard candies, especially the strawberry ones. If you ever find yourself in conversation with a man who might be me, check his pockets for sucking candies. If he's carrying, you might have me.

DovBear FlashBack

Here's a blast from the past in honor of Shushan Purim! And don't miss the comments, they are much, much, much better than the post.

Much.

[Note: The comment counter says zero, but like most of the things you see online this is a lie. Click on the zero, and be rewarded.]

Magilla Meme

Over at Ren Reb a new and exciting meme has been created:

Things I think about during magilla reading (besides Russel Crowe).

And though she hasn't exactly tagged me (Ren Reb looks, but she doesn't touch) I thought I'd play along. So here, in no particular order, are some of the thoughts that danced through my sugar and caffine deprived mind on Monday night.

* Man, I can lain so much better than this dope. How many more notes is he going to miss? Why don't they ever ask me to read the megillah? I bet it's because I say Achash-vey-rosh instead of Achash-vey-roysh. That's it, I just know it. Well, screw them.

* Why didn't they have co-ed parties in ancient Persia? I mean, how pious were these people, that Vashti and the women were kept seperate from Achashveyrosh and the men? And if all that seperation didn't help the ancient court of Persia stay proper and moral, why do 21st century Jews think it's worth doing?

* Hey, it doesn't say anywhere that Vashti was killed. Only that her estate was taken away. I have read the megillah maybe 1000 times. How did I miss that? Suddenly, I feel like an old friend of mine who reached the ripe old age of 30 without realizing that the story of Abraham smashing the idols is nowhere in the Hebrew bible. Or the friend who reacts with shock, horror and disgust whenever he's told that Rashi's understanding of a particular verse is rejected by rabbis of equal stature. It's a little scary how the things we're taught as kids can be so powerful - and misleading.

* Why don't the kids and adults who swarm around the shul looking for handouts on Purim ever say anything when they ask you for your money? They just stick their hand in your face and sort of shake it. You're supposed to guess what they want, and who they are collecting for, I guess. Some of them even do this right in the middle of davening. You can be saying shema, or even shmona esray and some scarecrow will come over and rattle his hand under your nose. My policy is to ignore people who don't speak, and to pummel people who bother me during prayers. I confess I am not as religious as I should be about following this policy, but I plan to work on my shortcoming, so that next year I am ready.

* Esther 4:13-14 is an awsome verse (and I am not just saying that because Ren Reb did, too. ) Aside from all the things RenReb likes about it, I also appreciate the lack of certainty. When Mordichai tells Esther she needs to speak up for her people, he doesn't say,"There are no coincidences! The only reason you became queen is because the Jews need your help!" No. What he says is: "And who knows maybe it's for just this purpose [i.e., to save the Jewish people] that you became queen?" Get that everyone? Mordichai is unsure. And he's not so vulgar as to speak for God, even when his life, and the life of everyone he knows, is on the line.

Nowadays, GOP-Jews would probably chastize Mordichai for his lack of faith, ("What do you mean? Of course Esther became queen for the sake of saving the Jews.") but GOP-Jews would have also probably bowed down to Haman, too. ("Come on! The evengelical idol worshippers are our best friends ever! No one loves Jews like they do!")

Keep the meme alive! What did you think about during megillah reading?

I am tagging...

Ezzie: ("What a bunch of Democrats those liberal, hedonist Persians were, raising taxes and wasting money on luxurious parties. I bet there were lots of movie stars and celebreties at those parties, too.)

Chardal: ("Man, I love Purim, and not just because we get to slaughter our enemies with extreme malice. Really!)

CWY: ("The liberal media sure did a job on Haman. As the Wall Street Journal makes clear, Haman's concern was national security, and only a liberal-weenie-wimp would object to a program that makes your country safer and stronger.")