What She Said

photo by Stephen Jaffee

 I don't always agree with Bari Weiss. In fact, more often than not, I take issue with some of her statements. That said, she still makes a good argument for her positions and I think she's worth reading. That's my opinion. On November 12th, she addressed the General Assembly at the annual conference of Jewish Federations. Her speech, The Old World Is Not Coming Back, is a powerful call to pull our heads out of our asses. She begins with a simple question, When did you know?

Looking back, now that we are on the far side, I wonder: When did you realize that things had changed?

When did you know that the things we had taken for granted were suddenly out of our reach? That the norms that felt as certain as gravity had disappeared? That the institutions that had launched our grandparents had turned hostile to our children?

When did you notice that what had once been steady was now shaky ground? Did you look down to see if your own knees were trembling?

When did you realize that we were not immune from history, but living inside of it?

When did you see that our world was actually the world of yesterday—and a new one, one with far fewer certainties, one where everything seems up for grabs, was coming into being?

Maybe it was September 11, 2001, when Islamist terrorists murdered 3,000 Americans. Maybe you noticed, as my friend Jonathan Rosen did, that “an explosion of Jew hatred seemed to have ridden in on the contrails of the airplanes that jihadists had turned into weapons of mass destruction and aimed at the heart of American civilization.”

Maybe it was the second intifada, in which everyday places—Mike’s Place and Sbarro and Café Moment and the Dolphinarium—became synonyms for slaughterhouses, even as few of our would-be allies said their names.

Or maybe it was on February 1, 2002, when al-Qaeda beheaded the journalist Daniel Pearl in Pakistan as he spoke his final words: “My father is Jewish, my mother is Jewish, I am Jewish.”

Or maybe it wasn’t until the Shabbat morning of October 27, 2018, when a neo-Nazi gunned down 11 Jews at Tree of Life while shouting, “All Jews must die!”

Or maybe it was the shooting, six months later, at the Chabad of Poway. For Hannah Kaye, who witnessed the murder of her mother, Lori Gilbert Kaye, it surely was. Or maybe it was in January of 2022, when a gunman held the congregants of Congregation Beth Israel in Colleyville, Texas, hostage.

Or maybe it was beforehand—the bombing of the AMIA Center in Buenos Aires, Argentina; the terror attack at the Chabad of Mumbai, India; the school shooting in Toulouse, France; the murder of Sarah Halimi, who was thrown out of her apartment window in Paris. (French prosecutors decided to drop murder charges against her killer, who had shouted “Allahu Akbar” and who had told them: “When I saw the Torah and a chandelier in her home, I felt oppressed,” because, those prosecutors said, he had smoked weed.

Maybe it was the rise of Jeremy Corbyn in England. Or the white supremacists marching through Charlottesville, Virginia, with their tiki torches. Maybe it was the antisemites at the helm of the Women’s March. Or maybe it was the social consequences you suffered when you dared to notice them.

Maybe, as it was for so, so many, it was the morning of October 7, when Hamas terrorists came across the border into southern Israel on foot and on motorbike and by truck and by car and by paraglider to murder and maim anyone they could find. They came armed with maps that indicated which houses had children. Which family owned a dog.

But maybe even that wasn’t enough. It was still over there. Not here.

Maybe it took until October 8 when, in Times Square, people were cheering, exhilarated at news of Jewish death.

Or perhaps it was the moral inversion in the days that followed: the Chicago chapter of BLM using the symbol of a hang glider—the symbol of mass murder—as a sign of liberation. Or when the heads of Harvard and Penn and MIT, who run schools that cater to the most minute of microaggressions, could not answer in the affirmative to whether calling for the genocide of Jews qualified as bullying and harrassment. Or the professors and Broadway producers that tore down posters of women and children and babies taken by Hamas.

Maybe it was when you organized the march. And none of the people who post about being allies showed up.

Or maybe it was physical attacks on Jewish students at Tulane, at the University of Pittsburgh, at DePaul. Maybe it was the school shootings in Toronto and Montreal. Or maybe it was the now near-daily assaults on the streets of Brooklyn against the most visible members of our community.

Or maybe it was more subtle—the quiet purging of proud Jews, like the novelist Elisa Albert, who refuses to be quiet about Israel, from the arts, from museum boards, from human-rights groups. Maybe it was watching what your children were learning in their “ethnic studies” class about Israel and the Jewish people.

Maybe it was the mobs that gathered outside of Michael Rapaport’s comedy show, calling him a “racist Zionist,” or the venue in Chicago that canceled a Matisyahu concert because they claimed they couldn’t guarantee his safety.

Or maybe you knew when an Orthodox Jewish man was shot while walking to his synagogue on Shabbat in Rogers Park, Chicago—only to be offered “thoughts and prayers” by the city’s mayor.

Or maybe it took the event of two weeks ago, when Jews were hunted in the streets of Amsterdam. A pogrom in twenty-first century Europe. They called it a “Jew hunt.” In one of the recordings from the attack, a man jumps into one of Amsterdam’s canals to escape his assailants. He is forced to say “Free Palestine” as he treads in the water. His assailants laugh and jeer that he is a “cancer Jew.”

Soon, I am sure, Columbia students will hold a protest on the pogromist’s behalf. Don’t believe me? A group of them just spent Veterans Day on the quad, holding a memorial event for Sinwar. 

When did you know?

This is not a flippant or rhetorical question. The admission that "things" are changing for us in this country does not come easily to anyone. This is America! The Goldene Medina! The place we came to escape pogroms and hate! The place we could live openly and freely as Jews. We hoped, we came, we built new lives outside the ghetto walls...either real or implied. We fought for social justice. We fought for equal rights. We stood up to be counted for Civil Rights. We shared in the dream that was America.

I'm not so sure we're sharing in it these days. 

People and groups we once thought of as allies are not. They have proven themselves to be in favor of a Judenrein world as they call for the globalization of intifada. I am certain they have no idea what they're encouraging, nor do they understand that once the Jews are gone, some other group will take our place. But that really doesn't matter when mob rule takes over. Jews are the other; we're on the outside once again. 

I totally get how the German Jews believed Hitler's lunacy would all blow over and things would go back to "normal." Our neighbor down the block once explained how her uncle convinced her aunt to take the kids and get out of Warsaw because he believed the Germans were coming. My neighbor's own father, his brother, was not convinced anything would happen. The uncle got his family out, my neighbor's family was in Auschwitz. She and her mother were the only ones to survive. "It never blows over," she told me. "And they always come back." I also knew that she kept packed suitcases in the basement ...one for each of them....just in case.

The first exile from Jerusalem happened around 587 BCE (about 2600 years ago, that's about 600 years before Jesus was born, about 2150 years before Mohammed was born in 570CE) and Jews were forcibly take to Babylonia. Since then, we have survived exiles and returns, expulsions, forced conversions, inquisitions, pogroms, and intentional exclusions...redlining, quota systems....you know what I'm talking about. And now, we're facing it full frontal all over again in America. 

In all that time, we have always had a presence in the land now called Israel. We were there through it all. Our liturgy is directed at Jerusalem. Our hopes, our prayers, and our communal aspirations have always been directed toward Jerusalem. It has always been our homeland, our home. Jerusalem will always be our heart. 

We can stick our heads in the sand in hopes it will all blow over, but from a historical perspective, we already know that it will not. The intifada movement will continue to grow, to be a proxy for Iran's hatred toward the west. We know who's funding the movements here and in Europe. Since the world has chosen to support them, to tell us we are not entitled to defend ourselves, we must take that responsibility for ourselves.  Or not. Or just finally die off.

That is so not happening. 

We are a stiff-necked people. Even G-d said so: Exodus 32:9

.ט  וַיֹּאמֶר יְהוָה, אֶל-מֹשֶׁה: רָאִיתִי אֶת-הָעָם הַזֶּה, וְהִנֵּה עַם-קְשֵׁה-עֹרֶף הוּא.

And the LORD said unto Moses: 'I have seen this people, and, behold, it is a stiff-necked people.'                                    

Loosely translated, take that to mean Don't fuck with us. 

We are Jews. We choose life. And if it means leaving overfed, overtaxed Ameritekva, that's what we'll do. 

The Wifely Person's Tip o'the Week

I am a Jew.

The survival of the children comes first. 

Our children are our future. 

Think Lovely Thoughts

9 years clear

Long, long ago, in a lifetime far, far away, Ziggy was diagnosed with cancer. What cancer and where it was actually hiding were a bit of a mystery, but it had attacked his liver. That was the giveaway. We immediately made an appointment to see an oncologist and off we went. The only thing I will say about this oncologist is that he was horrendous, horrible, painful, and unnecessarily cruel. A dear friend stepped in and got us into the Piper Cancer Institute [now called Allina Health Cancer Institute] and it was like stepping into the light. So, when it was my turn to be the cancer patient, you know where I went.  

View of St. Paul from the High Bridge
Photo by Ziggy ~ June 22,1975

This morning, I went for my annual mammogram and periodic bone scan. Since my run-in with breast cancer, I don't screw around with these things. I go when they tell me to go. I do what they tell me to do. My scan appointment was at 9, but one look at 35-E had me re-routing myself down Smith Avenue and over the High Bridge, thereby treating myself to the best view of St. Paul. As a result, I arrived seriously early, but they were happy to see me and I was whisked in right away for the bone scan. Done in less than 20 minutes. I popped upstairs to the office for mammograms. I apologized for being over an hour early for my 10:30 appointment, but assured them I brought a book and would sit quietly in the corner. I was not upset about that since the Piper Center has some of the best coffee in town. No sooner had I stirred the half&half into the coffee than my name was called. The tech had a window of opportunity....and instead of taking a break, took me. Everyone was lovely and good-humored. They laughed at the jokes and answered the questions. I was out the door before my bone scan had even been scheduled to start.

By 1:30, the bone scan report was in my email. I know the mammo always takes a couple of days. Had it been in the email box today, I woulda freaked because that would've meant I needed a callback....and not the kind actors get with auditions. 

Yes, I have access to excellent health care even with Medicare (yeah, I'm old) and a supplemental insurance plan. Yes, I am extremely grateful for that care. I know everyone doesn't always get that level of care and good humor. Yes, I know how lucky I am. 

But there's another takeaway to be mentioned here: self-care. 

My breast cancer was found early because my cousin Laurie was assigned the task of making me do routine health screenings and assorted check-ups by Ziggy before he died. He knew that I am not to be trusted with this stuff. In the 9 years I have been cancer-free, I have learned not to take this stuff for granted. 

I have learned to advocate for myself. Yes, I have great support from the fam and my friends,  but learning to speak up when I have questions and concerns when it comes to health stuff has been a challenge. 

Medicine and medical practice is BIG business. HUGE business. And do not believe for a New York minute that there are hospitals who will choose not making a profit over patient outcome every time. 

Access to healthcare is shrinking. Since we don't have, outside of Medicare, any comprehensive nationalized access to comprehensive care, no states or systems are created equal. The tangled nest of state, federal, and insurance requirements takes up the bulk of health care providers' time. Most don't have time for bedside manner or assuaging patient's fears. Which means, you own much of the responsibility for seeing to your own outcome. 

But self-care doesn't begin and end in a doctor's office. Frankly, it begins in your head.

Over the last few months of this horrendous political upheaval, I have learned a few things about myself that even I didn't know....or pay much attention to like my left eyelid twitches when I'm really tired and/or worried about something. My stomach doesn't always play nice with the rest of me, and I am learning how to manipulate it into behaving.....something which requires the total absence of fried anything...including State Fair french fries and/or onion rings. (Kill me now!) I sleep precisely 5 hours and 45 minutes each night. I can sometimes roll over and eventually drift back to sleep, but usually I am up for the day. Lots of water is a necessity; dehydration gives me vertigo. I budget for pedicures because this old person gets really cracked heels and Aquaphor is great, but only goes so far. This is all stupid, petty stuff, but I am learning to be aware of my own mishugas. 

Meanwhile, back at the ranch, I am working on fixing the parts of me I can fix, and worrying about the safety and security of the people in my world. For a while, at least. I will drive myself crazy if I worry about everything else....and I'm already crazy enough.

See, the lessons of the last election cycle boil down to almost nothing worth twisting about. . With a right-wing executive, judicial and legislative government, there is nothing that can be done to prevent this administration from doing whatever it wants. If congress won't approve his picks, he'll just use recess appointments to do it. If he wants to give someone security clearance, he'll wave a magic wand and whoosh! they have clearance. If he wants his billionaire buddies to negotiate with heads-of-state and set policy, that's what's gonna happen. 

Until the midterm elections. That's assuming we have them.

I'm hoping to escape Minnesota for a little while come February.  For now, I'll endeavor to avoid gloom and doom. Try not to be too upset. 

The Wifely Person's Tip o'the Week

Think lovely thoughts. 

Douche Canoes, Poignant Reminders, and Breathing

Something not-so-unexpected happened in the aftermath of the election. New slogans are gaining traction in the douche canoe quadrant of America. If you don't know what a douche canoe is, you can look it up.

This particularly witless gem is attributed to proud White Nationalist Nicholas J. Fuentes as seen in a tweet

This is the actual tweet that appeared on X, posted at 6:19 AM on November 6th. That means it was posted after the race was pretty much but officially called. It was an incredible message sent to women, especially young women who are facing a time with fewer rights to self-determination than their mothers and grandmothers had. How the hell do we explain that to Little Miss? Frankly, I don't have a clue. 

Websites are popping up selling merch with the phrase. Hats, t-shirts, hoodies...that's one hoodie I'm not gonna own. One website, Grishko.com, [Russian?] hails this as a "bold and powerful statement," proclaiming:

Step into the spotlight with the Nick Fuentes Your Body My Choice Hat, a bold and unapologetic accessory that demands attention. This striking cap, featuring crisp white lettering, is designed to provoke thought and spark conversation. Whether you’re making a political statement or simply embracing your unique style, this hat is the perfect way to stand out from the crowd.

Nick Fuentes Your Body My Choice Hat 
– Make a Statement with Every Step

This hat is perfect for individuals who aren’t afraid to express their opinions and stand up for what they believe in. Whether you’re attending rallies, protests, or just want to make a statement in your everyday life, this hat is for you. It’s ideal for those who appreciate bold fashion choices that reflect their personal beliefs and values. If you’re someone who enjoys sparking conversations or challenging societal norms, this hat will be a great addition to your collection.

But wait! Another one is even better:

Your body my choice women’s right shirt is a powerful statement that resonates deeply with the ongoing fight for women’s reproductive rights. It proclaims the fundamental principle that women have the autonomous right to make decisions about their own bodies, including the choice to terminate a pregnancy.

This shirt serves as a poignant reminder of the tireless efforts of women’s rights advocates throughout history who have fought against societal norms and systemic oppression. It represents the collective voice of women who demand autonomy over their reproductive decisions, regardless of personal beliefs or political ideologies.

By adorning this shirt, individuals not only express their support for women’s rights but also contribute to raising awareness about the importance of reproductive freedom. It sparks conversations, challenges misconceptions, and empowers women to reclaim control over their own bodies.

REALLY? Poignant reminder? Raising awareness about reproductive freedom? How stupid do they think we are? Wait. Don't answer that. My guess is no one actually speaks English over at Premiumucstore T-shirt Fashion Store despite their LA mailing address. As the Sage of Baltimore, H.L. Mencken once said, "Nobody ever went broke underestimating the taste of the American public."

I'm telling you....you can't make this batshit crazy stuff up.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch, there is a lot to dissect, discuss, and decompose when it comes to the events of the last week. Since every person who even thinks about politics is posing as an armchair quarterback while pontificating on why the election turned out the way it did, I'm not gonna. Yeah, I have theories about what went awry, but y'know, it doesn't change a thing and frankly, I don't wanna waste my keystrokes talking about it. It's done. 

There are a few other things happening around the world that may or may not be as a result of this election, but that doesn't matter either. Let's just take a moment to set the stage:

In a nutshell, We, the People, elected a guy who is a convicted felon, a self-admitted sexual predator, and a snake oil salesman based on this trail of failed business, not the least exciting of which was NFT trading cards. You gotta admit, that was one helluva racket he had going there. But as I said, none of that matters. We, the People elected him, and We, the People will slog our way through the next four years. The only positive thing I can say about that is....if he does not suspend the Constitution, he cannot run for another term; we will be spared watching him do that accordion thing on the podium. That alone gives me a glimmer of hope for the future.

Do not think for one New York minute that the world is not watching. They are. They notice the hats. And there were more misogynistic language and threats heard in school hallways. "We don't need your permission," was one of them. Permission to do what? The New Republic article, MAGA’s Violent Threats Spike as Little Girls Threatened With Rape, cited the situation in Hopkins:

But the language has seemingly spilled from the digital ecosphere into daily life, as well, with parents reporting that young boys were caught leveraging the overtly objectifying language against girls in school. 

School officials Minnesota issued a notice to parents on Friday that they were aware of “misogynistic… transphobic, and homophobic memes and messages” directed toward students in nearby school districts, including the phrase “your body, my choice.”

“Our country is facing a period of significant division, and the recent election has stirred a range of emotions. Although Hopkins Public Schools is nonpartisan, we recognize that the outcome of the election has and will continue to spark instances of racism, homophobia, and sexism in school communities across the nation and state, including here in Hopkins,” wrote Dr. Rhoda Mhiripiri-Reed, superintendent of the Hopkins Public Schools system, in a letter that encouraged parents to reach out to local authorities if their children received such messages.

And the world certainly noticed the cotton-picking texts sent to Black kids and adults alike telling them they'll be rounded up for slave labor at a plantation. This wasn't exactly abstract here in Minnesota when adults and kids in Hopkins and, in fact, all over the state got those texts. Racism is not simply alive and thriving in Minnesota as well as the rest of the county.....it's flourishing.

I have no expectation that the incoming administration will  respond in a useful or appropriate way to racism or the sexualization and objectification of young girls. It's just not their style. 

The Wifely Person's Tip o'the Week

The election is over. 

Focus your energy on surviving the next four years

with tariffs, higher prices, and gutted FDA inspections.

Cook more from scratch.

Use less over-processed food.

Walk outside when you can.

And breathe. 

Don't forget to breathe. 

OCHLOCRACY!

A long, long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away, I had to read A TALE OF TWO CITIES for a high school English class. I was lukewarm on Dickens, but my British grandmother and her son (who happened to be my dad) were nuts on the topic. Of course, ATOTC is about a guy named Sidney Carton, and my dad, Sidney, was a box-maker... folding cartons to be specific. Clearly, this was karma at work. There was no escape. Dad decided we would read ATOTC together. It turned out to be a terrific thing to do. I was already becoming a political junkie, and ATOTC just fed that habit. I was definitely a revolutionary.

The copy we had in the house was not a first edition, but it was pretty old and used the 1859 original Hablot Browne (aka Phiz) illustrations done for the weekly magazine serial version of the book. Those illustrations really worked for me...especially the one titled The Sea Rises. Phillip Allingham, a contributing editor for The Victorian Web wrote:

 ..."The Sea Rises" is a public panorama of anarchic natural forces that will sweep away innocent and guilty alike."

I was riveted by this illustration....specifically the three women at the center:

Their rage was palpable; the way the necks of the two women on the left are craned out and taut expressed tension in a way I'd never experienced as part of a book. I kept turning back to that page again and again. Those women could be me. 

There might have been a tangential reason for this: high school, for me, coincided with the Vietnam War, something I morally and politically opposed and as important for us, the persecution of Jews in the Soviet Union. I'd been in demonstrations where the anger and rage ran rampant. Standing in Dag Hammarskjöld Plaza on many cold nights demanding Jews be permitted to leave. Granted, we never stormed the UN, although lots of us wanted to, but being in an angry crowd, I know how close we came to being a mob. More than once. 

You lose yourself in a crowd and when it becomes a mob, it's easy to go along with it. Did you know there's a word for that? Ochlocracy...from the Greek ὀχλοκρατία (okhlokratía), from ὄχλος (ókhlos, "mass", "mob", or "common people") and κράτος (krátos, "rule") and bonus! it's considered a pejorative. Hmmm. I saw it up close and personal at Columbia University. I wrote about that back in April. 

Jan 6, 2021/Lev Radin/Pacific Press

We, the People, saw it up close and personal on January 6th, 2021. Through the magic of television, we watched a mob storm our Capitol and attempt to stop the ratification of our 2020 presidential election. People were hurt, people died, rioters were reported to have defecated and urinated in the halls and offices. Windows were broken, art defaced, walls and furnishings damaged. Smithsonian Magazine covered the testimony of Farar Elliott, a curator in the House of Representatives' Office of History and Preservation:

All told, Elliott said, eight artworks—six sculptures and two paintings—were vandalized in the attack. Chemicals present in fire extinguishers, pepper spray, bear repellants, tear gas and other irritants used by rioters caused the majority of the damage. (Per Blanton’s testimony, staffers raced to the roof of the building to reverse airflows and try to limit the damage inflicted by these chemicals.) House curators have requested $25,000 in emergency funding to cover the costs of restoration and repair.

It's just art, right? Culture? Part of our national collective memory? Something frivolous to cut from the budget, right?

The January 6th insurrection may not have succeeded, but it was not completely unsuccessful. 

Do not underestimate the lessons learned that day, not by us, but by the minions, militias, and fringe groups who favor fascism, racism, and isolationism over what we have. They lie in wait, listening intently for the moment the dog whistle goes aloud. They are well rehearsed, armed, and incredibly dangerous. 

I am less worried about Tuesday than I am about Wednesday. If Harris and Walz win, the election will just be contested, the first wave of violence will commence. As the votes are counted across each state, you will see more and more violent responses to a possible Harris presidency. We have every reason to believe that a civil war is already mapped out and the plans ready to execute. 

The really scary part of all this is that half the country will vote for a guy who lies at his rallies without apology, doubles-down on those lies, has no idea how the government actually works, and despite all that, they would give him the nuclear codes. Never mind he's a serial adulterer, hawks the bible like his NFT trading cards, and says disgusting things about all sorts of people. Would you want your son or daughter to marry this man? But you'll vote for him, right?

That terrifies me because if half the country backs that kind of behavior, there is no hope for this country whatsoever. 

If Feckless Loser manages to win, he insists on day one he will begin mass deportations. This means there will be sweeping arrest nets that will scoop up legal and illegal immigrants alike to be held in camps. Billions will be spent on this effort without concern about what that will cost the economy. It might be worth it to mention migrant workers and those who come into the US to harvest our crops. Will they be able to cross the border? With relatively cheap labor gone, the food chain will be massively and immediately impacted. 

Liz Cheney and others (including little 'ol inconsequential me) who defied Feckless Loser risk arrest and trial for sedition and treason...because that's what he says he's gonna do. Parts of the Constitution, if not all of it, will be suspended by presidential decree, especially if he controls both houses of Congress. There are already more guns than people in the US, so with the repeal of any sane gun laws, that number will grow exponentially. There will be more mass shootings just because of the sheer number of automatic weapons. 

Jews will be in the crosshairs because he has said so repeatedly...to Jewish groups. He will figure out the Arab world is way richer than the Jewish one, and we will be thrown, lock, stock, and country, under the bus. He wants to rule like Putin, Kim Jung Un, and Xi Jinping. You think he's gonna protect us? Fat chance. He will sell Israel out to whichever Ayatollah books the most hotel rooms. 

As for protecting women? Right into the kitchen with white caps, red robes, and no shoes. Children will be forced to bear children because a total ban on abortion will take over no matter what he says he's not gonna do. His medical concept? Women at home caring for kids and parents alike. Out of the workforce we go so men can work without having to compete with stupid, naive women. Welcome to Stepford.

Listen, folks, this guy has been telling us who he is for a long time. No matter who gets the vote tally, a peaceful transfer of power is not gonna happen. I imagine the military is prepared, one way of the other, for whatever happens. 

The Wifely Person's Tip o'the Week

This election is a lose-lose. America is the biggest loser of all.

Still... make sure you get out there and

if you haven't already.