Masbia has opened a soup kitchen in Flatbush at 1372 Coney Island Ave(J & K).Please come by and enjoy a hot meal in a comfortable restaurantsetting.From Rabbi b.. k….:CA - Cocaine Anonymous meetings, similar to AA and NA.We meet every Thursday night 9:00 pm - 10:00 pm8xxxx Dxxxxx between Nxxxxx Ave and Qxxx Ave Queens
Yhosephus wrote that in the original "about" section, and how about a Chanukkah destruction, during the very 7fatcow week in parshas miketz? In all seriousness I plan to take down 7fatcow.com in the coming days. Any protests and disagreements can be voiced in the comments section. I guess this post is a vote, but the voting populace is like AWOL
Depressing to recive the chulent email with the great news for our economic and social well being… and this for a group as brilliant as any around… the beatnicks: check. the algonquin round table: check. the romantic poets: check. or so i feel. but isaac schonfeld's aspirations are more practical?
- The Ba'al Shemtov
H'moon hotel leap
By Liz Sadler and Kirsten Fleming, New York Post
A newlywed groom on his honeymoon yesterday plunged to his death from a Brooklyn hotel in an apparent suicide — as his bride slept, unaware of the tragedy, sources said.
Motty Borger, 24, died at Lutheran Medical Center after the seven-story plunge from The Avenue Plaza Hotel in Borough Park — just two days after marrying his love, Mali, in a lavish ceremony, according two sources.
Borger's bride was sleeping in the room when her husband, who worked with his videographer dad, opened a window, stepped onto the balcony and jumped at 6:45 a.m.
Mali didn't know what had happened until she was awakened by the hotel concierge.
Friends were shocked at the young man's death, saying there was no sign at Borger's wedding in Williamsburg on Tuesday that he'd try to end his life.
"He sang, he danced, he was the happiest kid on the planet," said a friend who was at the wedding among 500 pals and loved ones.
"The guy was super energetic," said another reveler.
The couple shared a meal of boiled salmon Wednesday night in a postwedding celebration and seemed to be in good spirits.
"They were both happy," said a waiter.
"They were laughing, talking about what they should order."
Detectives were poring over security video, including a clip that shows an agitated Borger in an elevator with his wife.
A police source described Borger as "emotionally disturbed."
The apparent suicide stunned family members who just 48 hours earlier were celebrating the young couple's union.
"The guy was so full of life," a friend said. "He was so happy to marry her."
Friends said they couldn't believe Borger would want to kill himself or that there could have been any marital strife.
"She's a nice, sweet girl," a friend said of the bride. "They have money, so that wasn't a problem
Likewise, the assumption that parents are predisposed to love their children unconditionally and protect them from harm is not universally true. I remember one patient, a man in his mid-20s, who came to me for depression and rock-bottom self-esteem.
It didn’t take long to find out why. He had recently come out as gay to his devoutly religious parents, who responded by disowning him. It gets worse: at a subsequent family dinner, his father took him aside and told him it would have been better if he, rather than his younger brother, had died in a car accident several years earlier.
Though terribly hurt and angry, this young man still hoped he could get his parents to accept his sexuality and asked me to meet with the three of them.
The session did not go well. The parents insisted that his “lifestyle” was a grave sin, incompatible with their deeply held religious beliefs. When I tried to explain that the scientific consensus was that he had no more choice about his sexual orientation than the color of his eyes, they were unmoved. They simply could not accept him as he was.
I was stunned by their implacable hostility and convinced that they were a psychological menace to my patient. As such, I had to do something I have never contemplated before in treatment.
At the next session I suggested that for his psychological well-being he might consider, at least for now, forgoing a relationship with his parents.
I felt this was a drastic measure, akin to amputating a gangrenous limb to save a patient’s life. My patient could not escape all the negative feelings and thoughts about himself that he had internalized from his parents. But at least I could protect him from even more psychological harm.
Easier said than done. He accepted my suggestion with sad resignation, though he did make a few efforts to contact them over the next year. They never responded.
http://www.nytimes.com/2009/
hat tip to vicki polin
For a while, i've preferred quietly bowing out to dramatic public announcements, not wanting to endlessly retire like an aging rock band. But now, a solid three years into the exciting creation and invitation of theis forum into being, i'm stepping down formally, from any inolvement with 7fatcow, unconvinced that it exists at all.
No bitterness. Dissapointment would imply expectations, and all my hopes and expectations for this blog where satisfied right away, constantly, along with all my concerns and suspicions, re: the inevitably difficult nature of True Expression and Engagement. That was understood from the beginning to be OK. Sometimes, when you talk with people, a lot of bullshit comes out as cushion for any insight and genuine heart-of-self that might be revealed, and that condition was understood from the beginning: along with the genius in our wider community of not-quite-ex/not-quite-ohs is a multitude of protective layer of ego and dogma; of noise and principle, of assumption and of flawed language, furious at the implication that it must be probed to be understood. That's OK, as much as any of the troublesome nature of our world is to be called OK, it's part of who we have been, and how we have expressed.
All that said, it's boring now, because maybe we've gone as far as any of us wanted to go. One of our founding members has moved beyond interest in the conversation here, as a funner life beckoned where the wit was expresseable and the company close enough that trying to blog in a noise filled room of cheesy links and ironically repressive vulgarity became uncompelling, especially once the Twitter and Facebook Status update was given unto us, to let the impulse sound more immediately, without need for context, or consensus. And so, the chance to say just a few things here was all he needed.
Another founding member has tried to give up so many times, and the clamor of each dramtic farewell, combined with the unelaborated links and occasional disavowels of entire identities for fear of Who May Be Listening, and Who May Be Judged along with him, often prevented the depth of his insight from being expressed. He erased all his posts, psuedonym after psudonym, and tried to convince somebody that he was somebody, and not actually somebody. And in that noise, his genius is silenced, and a certain unconfrontational decadence tried to grow around him; alas, woe unto those who think their sacrifices will provide security, money, or love.
And around that, behind that, so much genius was expressed. Zoroastro/IslamoYid's and Atgate231's Scholarship, Class and Humor, Shitalpin's withering and ultimately humanist hot/cold sarcasm-masking-authenticity, Hashemsucksdick's marriage of post-religious concience and artistry, Mohammed's strange and shocking form of concience, Anivaho's Mercurial genius to let words permute into sublime association (even as any conceit towards divine synchronicty was despaired of) Yalhak's Majestic magnimamity and wholeness of vision/purity of impurity of perspective (along with the lucid clarity of Yesod, Aisav, and the other maaminim he brought) and the writers we never even really identified, who bought so much class, genius, and perfect kvetchery to the conversation (who was Hiavrom anyway? he was brilliant! I hope he's OK.)
All the Neo-Nazis who stopped by to let us now what was going on, all the feminists and fetishists, all the excited Chabadskers, all the grieving relatives– so much got circulated, and maybe so little was heard, who knows? who knows. Who knows how much we ever hear from each other that we weren't ready to chap. But I feel like a lot of rare expression and relative taboo was aired here, and i'm really proud of that. As proud as one can be of something that one just let happen.
All the martyrs and all the victims; all the heroes and all the wimps. All the Faggotry and all the ugly, ugly Charedi shock-porn. All the piety and simple faith. Everything but the bullshit, and the noise, and the hiding of ourselves inside of our conceptions. It really has been a great ride, and I can only pray that some of this survivesinto the annals ofHistory, the story of how the Jewish Problem was, if only for a moment, touched upon, if not successfully adressed, from within, rather than just from without. God bless you all, to move on, and see how easy it is just to start up a crazy fucking conversation in this great, wide future of accessible interests, may we one day merit to see it to it's end.
Shana Tov, and i'll see you at the Jubilee
Yoseph Leib,
AKA Yhosephus,
AKA the guy that fucked your sister, back when she was still cute.
Some 7fc New Year's posts:
http://7fatcow.com/2009/08/29/the-letter-of-the-rebbe-reb-bunim-on-rosh-ha-shanah/
http://7fatcow.com/2008/09/24/shofar-concerto-op-1-1885/
http://7fatcow.com/2008/09/29/the-jews-the-jews/
http://7fatcow.com/2008/09/29/time-is-in-the-mind/
http://7fatcow.com/2007/09/13/caught-dipping-his-apple-in-a-honey/
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