There is empty, concrete land  sitting there doing nothing in front of city hall.

There is a campaign going on now to get the mayor to plant a vegetable garden there, please sign the petition and help make this happen.

http://www.PeoplesGardenNYC.org

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

Shmarya writes, 

Choshen Mishpat 163:1-3 gives a town's beit din the right to tax all residents to meet communal needs.Included in those communal needs are defensive fortifications, mikva(s), synagogue(s), and salaries for rabbis, teachers, and doctors.In other words, the community is specifically given the power to tax everyone to pay for healthcare.In the same way, halakha (Jewish law) forbids living in a town without a doctor.While this isn't the same thing as mandating socialized medicine, it does clearly establish a communal responsibility for healthcare, and halakha's mandate is far more in consonance with President Obama's vision for healthcare than it is with the Sarah Palin-Rush Limbaugh Republican version or, ironically, the Senator Joseph Lieberman version.

Tzemach wrote pertinently in an email,

 The problem with Chulent is most people there need to move forward but
the framework is set up to pull people backwards. Instead of detox
from the Judaic indoctrination it is a comfortable opiate figuratively
and literally.

I cant believe that in NY there is no place for cultural
deconstruction and reconstruction. Instead there is a regurgitation of
the same uninspired and gaseous matter. People need to take the past
to task instead of succumbing and resigning to it.

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

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.

I was going to write a poem while walking on Eastern Parkway but chanced upon a Psalm when I suddenly found myself outside the Rebbe's room.Forget the poem, David's way better…

PSALM 88

1 1 A song; a psalm of the Korahites. For the leader; according to Mahalath. For singing; a maskil of Heman the Ezrahite. 2 LORD, my God, I call out by day; at night I cry aloud in your presence. 3 Let my prayer come before you; incline your ear to my cry. 4 2 For my soul is filled with troubles; my life draws near to Sheol. 5 I am reckoned with those who go down to the pit; I am weak, without strength. 6 My couch is among the dead, with the slain who lie in the grave. You remember them no more; they are cut off from your care. 7 You plunged me into the bottom of the pit, into the darkness of the abyss. 8 Your wrath lies heavy upon me; all your waves crash over me. Selah 9 Because of you my friends shun me; you make me loathsome to them; Caged in, I cannot escape; 10 my eyes grow dim from trouble. All day I call on you, LORD; I stretch out my hands to you. 11 3 Do you work wonders for the dead? Do the shades arise and praise you? Selah 12 Is your love proclaimed in the grave, your fidelity in the tomb? 13 Are your marvels declared in the darkness, your righteous deeds in the land of oblivion? 14 But I cry out to you, LORD; in the morning my prayer comes before you. 15 Why do you reject me, LORD? Why hide your face from me? 16 I am mortally afflicted since youth; lifeless, I suffer your terrible blows. 17 Your wrath has swept over me; your terrors have reduced me to silence. 18 All the day they surge round like a flood; from every side they close in on me. 19 Because of you companions shun me; my only friend is darkness.

From the Israeli newspaper Ma'ariv,

קנאביס חסידיס: על הזיקה העמוקה שבין היהדות והמריחואנה

האם היתה ביהדות העתיקה מסורת שורשית של עישון מריחואנה? יוסף לייב, אחרי מחקר מקיף בישיבות ירושלים והסביבה, טוען בספר חדש שאמנם כך – ושואף (עוד מאז התיכון) להפוך את היהדות להרבה יותר רגועה. תומר פרסיקו שמע ממנו איך עוזר הגראס להתקרב לאלוהים

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תומר פרסיקו | 25/5/2009 8:55

הבעש"ט - דיוקן דמיוני,  עטיפת הספר. תת-תרבות יהודית ענפה של המראה למחוזות שמימיים

המזל, אומרים רבים משומרי המצוות, הוא שהגראס לא אסור על פי ההלכה. הבעיה, יהיה מי שיוסיף, היא שחסרה מסורת יהודית (שלא לומר קבלית) שמנחה את היהודי כיצד להשתמש בסם כדי לקרב בינו ובין הקב"ה. כדי לענות על השאלה האחרונה יצא יוסף לייב, יהודי אמריקאי צעיר וצמא דעת, למסע מעושן ברחבי ירושלים וארץ ישראל, בחיפוש עיקש אחר מקורות עבריים לסוטול.

כעת יצא הספר (באנגלית) שמתעד את מסעו המפותל, תחת השם המרומם "חסידיס קנאביס: תורת הסמים הקדומה והמתחדשת" - Cannabis Chassidis: The Ancient and Emerging Torah of Drugs (הוצאת "עצמוס")

את הגראס פגש לייב לראשונה בתיכון – חברים שאינם יהודים סיפקו לו מעט חומר על פי בקשתו. בתשובה לשאלתי הוא אמר: "שמעתי רק דברים טובים על זה במשך שנים, וזה גם התקשר אצלי לכל האמנים, המשוררים והמוזיקאים שאהבתי". כשהגיע מארה"ב לירושלים, לפני שבע שנים, הוא גילה, לשמחתו, שמי שעישן בעיר הקודש בדרך כלל עשה זאת מתוך התכוונות לממד הרליגיוזי שהגראס יכול לעורר ולעודד.

לייב הצטרף מיד לעבודת השם, אבל לא התכוון להסתפק בכך – הוא חיפש את המסורת היהודית העתיקה, שעל פי דעתו היתה חייבת להתקיים, שהרי "איך ייתכן שלתרבות עתיקה כל כך אין מערכת יחסים עם אחד הצמחים הרפואיים והקסומים שבבריאה?"

וכך יצא לייב לחיפוש עיקש, בין השאר בישיבות שונות בהן למד וכחלק מ"סצנת קרליבך" בירושלים וסביבתה, כאשר את הרפתקאותיו הוא מתעד בבלוג שלו, ששמו כשם הספר. על פי עדותו, מסתבר, ישנה תת-תרבות יהודית ענפה של המראה למחוזות שמימיים בעזרת חומרים פסיכואקטיביים – תרבות שהוא קושר לה גם מסורת יהודית עתיקה. עם צאת ספרו שאלתי אותו כמה שאלות בעניין.

For the continuation & interview & picture, see here:

http://www.nrg.co.il/online/55/ART1/895/137.html

Up through the ashes of Babylon, Cannibus Chassidus shall rise — Jah!

'Tis spring after all….