the grain of truth
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Below are the 20 most recent journal entries recorded in
rebhershy's LiveJournal:
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| Sunday, December 20th, 2009 | | 12:40 am |
it occurred to me...
...the most thrilling ride the soul can have is to inhabit a body that has no secrets. | | Friday, December 4th, 2009 | | 3:18 pm |
Friday Afternoon
Gotta duck in the crockpot a la ![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif) chanalehThe apartment smells fowl, Salome is crying foul, but I'm coping with both challenges heroically. It's a down Shabbes, the children are back at their mother's, not sleeping on futons in our living room. Reconnected with old acquaintances from the Pawtucket RI days (90s), and with older friends, from the Manhattan west side days (late 80s)... this week. Still, southern California is the place to meet interesting people, in the sunshine. For someone born and bred in Manchester, England, (well Broughton Park, Salford, to be perfectly accurate) the sunshine in LA, the day after day after day fine weather never grows tiresome, boring or old. What a physical pleasure it is to be warm all day. It's age creeping up on me for sure. *sigh* what a lucky boy I am. Shabbes Thinking of you. You should have sent the picture, you know. Still can. H | | Friday, October 9th, 2009 | | 5:16 pm |
Almost
The High Holidays are almost over, Rosh Hashana, Yom Kippur, Sukkot are gone. Simchat Torah is all that remains of the month and that will be over on Sunday night. The house smells like a high end restaurant, as it usually does on a Friday afternoon. The kids are coming over to stay tomorrow night. Remembering the High Holidays in Istanbul, Turkey four years ago, how dismal they were, dreary, rainy, and straitened and hungry, waiting for the visa, the embassy, the money, the red tape, the endless tramping around. Comparing the then with the now, with the sunshine, palm trees, pink stucco, unbelieveably delicious foods, east European and Persian cuisine, fresh mission figs, bell peppers stuffed with ground lamb and jasmine rice, fruit compote made with rhubarb, my dad used to call it the wicked weed 'cos the leaves are toxic ahem ahem, fresh strawberries and peaches, massive mutant fuzzy enormous peaches from the central CA valley @ $0.59lb, I ask you! I boiled a tongue yesterday with bay leaves, allspice, cloves and cumin. That should go well with the grilled salmon, roast chicken and potatoes, the bbq steaks, the gefillte fish I cooked today, and with the swiss chocolate, the pistachio nougat Sal doesn't know about yet and the chocolate ruggelach she does. The tomato/cucumber salad and the other side dishes may not be in sore demand tonight, I fear. We'll definitely leave the chulent, kishke and kugel in the crockpot for tomorrow..... I'm leaving a light on for you. | | Friday, October 2nd, 2009 | | 6:14 pm |
Erev Sukkot
We've built a sukkah at the back of the apartment building. It was a lot of work to put together, but I don't know how well it's put together. It's not quite capable of standing alone, it kinda depends on the the wall it's leaning on for support. I'm hoping it doesn't get too windy in LA, not to speak of quakes, about which we should not speak. But if it leans the other way, or anyone of a number of other ways, the neighbors are going to be displeased, and I'm not gonna be that happy, either. Talk about something falling in your soup! Missing you, you should be here. Drop in, the food is something else. Happy Festival! | | Sunday, September 27th, 2009 | | 4:50 pm |
The eve of Yom Kippur - 5770 - 2009
Well into my fifties now, I know things I could not have known in my teens. I know what old fogies meant when they said, "If only I'd known then what I know now." They were talking about self-acceptance. The ease and familiarity with self that we have now, which we could not have so long as we were still looking over our shoulders at our peers, anticipating them judging us. Now we can't be bothered looking over our shoulders because of what we see looming ahead, on the horizon. Racing towards us, accelerating at the rate of 32 feet per second per second; the ground. Ahh! Now I get it. Let's celebrate growing old together. Let's make love any which way. Let's party in the name of God the Living. Let's see another year. Let's break our hearts again over love and loss and longing and friendship, beautiful friendships, let's lose it in forgetfulness, in reminiscence, in reverie and reflection, Let's let it go another year. Let's forgive it again. Amen J. Hershy Worch Los Angeles, CA p.s. thank you for your beautiful Rosh Hashana wishes, Amanda, they are reciprocated. | | Wednesday, September 23rd, 2009 | | 12:31 pm |
| | Friday, September 18th, 2009 | | 6:03 pm |
Rosh Hashana - New Year's Eve - 5770
Before the close of year I want to tell you once more I'm thinking of you. I bless you with a sweet, loving, warm and prosperous new year. May we all celebrate together, soon. Love & Pain J. Hershy Worch | | Monday, September 14th, 2009 | | 9:49 am |
www.theawarenesscenter.org
The Church of the Crucified Rabbi, also known as the Shrine of the Immaculate Deception - Order of the Sisters of St Vickipolin of Sexmecca has closed it's doors for today. http://www.theawarenesscenter.org/worch_hershy.html says it's unavailable, whaddya know? No doubt she'll be up and running soon enough, who ever heard of demons running out of energy? They feed on human misery, and the world hasn't runn out of that commodity yet... Still, it costs so little to maintain a website at the quality-level of the awareness center I can only assume she's finally run afoul of the law somewhere. I'm not celebrating, yet. If it is true, though, I'll print me up one of them T-Shirts, "I survived www.theawarenesscenter.org" ( proof behind cut ) | | Friday, August 28th, 2009 | | 6:50 pm |
just in case
anyone wondering where I went? I'm putting in 18 hour day/night editing the Sefer Yetzira MS for the publisher's deadline. There's no end to it. Focused like a maniac. Ignoring everyone and everything else. Except you. I'll be back just as soon as I mail the MS off to the pub Managed to cook for Shabbes, though. No point in living another week if you can't make Shabbes, is there? Stir fried brisket strips salmon grilled gefiltte fish (salome's gone nuts over it) turkyey neck soup Sal made some lamb riblets and I made a huge ginormous compote rhubarb, peaches, plums, pears and nectarines come. | | Tuesday, August 4th, 2009 | | 11:15 pm |
The Belzer Rebbe's Story
The man's life was totally ruined. It all began when as a child he imagined there was a spot on the end of his nose. His mother told him it was nothing, but he was sure it was a big pimple that everyone could see. Then it wouldn't go away. By crossing his eyes and looking down his nose he could see it clear as day; a blood red spot that got bigger month by month. It didn't matter that his parents told him it's nothing. Of course they'd say that. But he knew the truth that he was horribly disfigured, with a huge ugly blood-red stain growing and spreading over his nose. He tried holding his hand over it surreptitiously to prevent it being seen, but by the time he was 15 years old he was sure it had grown to the size of a walnut, so everyone knew all about it. It was obvious for all to see. No matter how many people told him he's just imagining it, he could see the pity in their eyes; their eyes told the truth. They were just trying to be kind to him with their denials. WHen it came time for him to marry, dating was out of the question. What girl could possibly want to marry a young man with an ugly liver hanging from his nose? For by now it had grown so large he had to hold it up with two hands; it was so heavy he could only pick his head up with difficulty. His friends took him to a rebbe, a miracle worker, a tzadik. The young man showed the rebbe the full awfulness of his affliction. "I can't help you," the rebbe said. "But I'm surprised your friends haven't put enough money together to enable you to get it seen to by a reputable surgeon?" His friends took the hint and made all the arrangements. They found the perfect doctor, a man who specialized in this sort of surgery. They paid his bill, which was a very large sum of money. After thoroughly examining the patient he explained that it was going to be a very tricky and risky surgery. An incision would have to be made under his ribcage for the liver to be transplanted to it's proper place. It involved complicated procedures and heavy medications and aftercare. The young man agreed to the surgery. He was desperate. The operation was a complete success! He was ecstatic. Once they took off the bandages and the nose had healed you couldn't even see where the liver had once hung. It was clean. Now he could lift his head without effort. he was a completely different person; he was free! He was soon dating a young woman. He found a job. But he had one enemy; a young man who'd grown up with him, went to school with him, who'd watched the drama unfold from the beginning. He had nothing but contempt for the madness of the imaginary liver and the even greater madness of people humoring his meshugass, going to all the trouble of arranging the mock doctoring. It bothered him that people bought into the madness and wasted time and effort in pretending they were believers in the imaginary nose-liver. One day he was alone with the recovering man, and he took the opportunity to say what was on his mind. "D'you really think the doctor was a real doctor. Meshuggene, what you are. D'you really think that scar under your ribcage was ever a real deep incision. Can't you see it's just a fake? They've tricked you into becoming normal. The whole thing was just in your mind from beginning to end. There never was a doctor and there never was a surgery. You're just a meshuggene who talked himself into believing he had something hanging from his nose." No sooner were the words out of his mouth when the face of the young man fell. His hands jumped to cradle his nose, his chin bent down to his chest, under the weight of the liver. "Ohhh," he moaned. "I knew it. I knew it all along. They never removed the liver. Oi! I knew it, I knew it!" | | Friday, July 3rd, 2009 | | 12:47 pm |
If I seem a little fuzzy to you...
It's most probably the fact that my life is comprised almost solely of loose-ends which is makiing me appear fuzzy, not my hair. I don't even think I number any neat types among my acquaintances, let alone my intimates. Messiness is the name of the game as far as I'm concerned. Never trust anyone whose life is neat and tidy; they're part of the problem. Avoid someone whose heart was never broken, they've never loved. | | Monday, June 29th, 2009 | | 11:51 am |
Poor Madoff Victims...
...And the greed has not stopped. A while back a woman filed a claim, asserting that Madoff had stolen two million dollars from her. A closer look at the claim revealed that she invested a million dollars with Madoff ten years ago. She received a return of 10% per year, which she drew out annually. Her totally bogus financial statement revealed that, even after receiving a million dollars in payouts, she had a balance of two million. When she discovered that the statement was phony, she claimed a two million dollar loss. Of course, by normal math, she lost nothing except the return she would have realized had she invested with someone legitimate--she put in a million and took out a million over a decade. It is through math like this that we arrive at the $50 billion dollars in loss figure. And when people say they lost "everything" to Madoff, they often have a very different view of "everything" than most of us. I know a couple who lost "everything" as part of the Madoff scam. "Everything" except a $7,000,000 townhouse in one Manhattan's most expensive neighborhoods. Most of Madoff's victims still have more money than you, my dear reader, will ever see in your life. Insert small violin music. Read the whole illuminating article here http://www.huffingtonpost.com/ron-kuby/bernie-madoff-the-man-we_b_218023.html | | Wednesday, June 24th, 2009 | | 6:40 pm |
Dear Iranians...
For every " Marg Bar Israeel" - 'Death to Israel' you shouted in the past, you will have to scream 600,000 times, " Marg Bar Diktator" from rooftops in the future. ...payback's a bitch, ain't it? | | 11:57 am |
| | Sunday, June 21st, 2009 | | 1:20 pm |
Poor Iranians
Last I checked with Interpol a Red Notice (international warrant) for Hashemi Rafsanjani's arrest is still in force, for plotting and arranging the murder of 80 Jews and injuring more than 300 others in Buenos Aires, Argentina, of all places. This is the same Ayatolla Rafsanjani the Iranians trust is going to help liberate them from Supreme Leader - Ayatolla Khamenei and give them back their freedoms. These are the very same holy men the poor, downtrodden Iranians overthrew their Shah to empower. And the benighted Iranian people out there on those very same streets, are still shouting the same shouts, "Oh, Ali, Save me! Oh Holy Imam, rescue us." Dear Iranians, You had unprecedented freedoms under the Shah, you could worship any damned thing, person or deity you damn well wanted to in public, private or nowhere at all. You could go out for a smoke and a beer with your boyfriend, spoon on the grass in the park, and if you were careful, fork, as well. You could feel the wind in your hair without having someone give you a ticket or worse for shameless, public immodesty. You could travel anywhere in the world without being a pariah or suspected of terrorism, and if you got too sick at home you could even fly to Tel-Aviv and have one of those Mossad doctors treat you safely... But you fought bravely like a lion for the right to an Islamic Republic under Shariah Law, to smash every bottle of wine in the Teheran Hilton cellars and cage your daughters like vermin. I'm repeating myself, I know. But I just gotta say it. Check what it is you ordered from the menu before complaining about being forced to eat shit. | | Friday, June 19th, 2009 | | 6:22 pm |
Dear Iranians
When you find yourself eating a shit-sandwich, check and make sure it isn't what you ordered from the menu... | | Friday, June 12th, 2009 | | 7:28 pm |
Blessings
I bless all my enemies, you should have such a week as this last one I had.... Good Shabbes | | Wednesday, June 10th, 2009 | | 2:55 pm |
Correction:
Yesterday's post should have read MacroBiotic and not necrotic. Apologies are duly tendered. | | Tuesday, June 9th, 2009 | | 11:08 am |
our new diet
Sal has put us all on this lastest MacroNecrotic Diet.... lucky us | | Monday, June 1st, 2009 | | 8:57 am |
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