Propaganda on wheels? The "war crimes" bus ads

I haven't blogged in more than three months. I've been using Facebook to convey most of my opinions on local and global happenings, and since the fall was packed with GRE prep, classes, and another contract gig for the Times, I seriously de-prioritized blogging. Still, I missed it. I missed writing in brief or at length about things that mattered to me. I missed getting the occasional response from a reader in New Zealand or Vermont or Patagonia. And since the cinematic year is drawing to a close, and I always make sure to write about my top 10 films of the year, I'll make sure 2010 is no exception. (Expect that post in early January; I still have to catch up on Winter's Bone, The Ghost Writer, and other critical darlings.)

In the meantime, I'll say that the growing Facebook campaign to remove a series of bus ads that accuse Israel of war crimes is getting my goat. It reminds me of the controversy surrounding the Seattle Rep's 2007 production of My Name is Rachel Corrie, a one-woman show that presented the Israel-Palestine conflict from the perspective of a young woman who spent a lot more time with the Palestinians than with the Israelis, and who died after being run over by an Israeli bulldozer.

The Jewish community's argument against the show was that it offered a one-sided view of the Mideast conflict, and that the Rep's discussion panel included only liberal Jews. While it can certainly be argued that the play isn't an even-handed overview of Palestinian and Israeli concerns, the next step for outraged local Jews should have been to make statements, in whatever media they deemed appropriate, that reflected the pro-peace aspects of Israeli society and government. To an extent, they did just that. Aren't such actions protest enough?

Looking back, I think Rep artistic director David Esbjornson erred in claiming that the ADL's and Federation's program ads were an attempt to "discredit" the show. I also think Jewish leaders shouldn't have assumed that they would be afforded program space rather than having to purchase ads to air their views. As I've indicated on Facebook, in response to a group that intends to "stop" the bus ads, I think the Jewish community does itself a disservice when it pushes for censorship -- the outright removal of views it doesn't like -- rather than figuring out how best to answer the offending messages.

A little pro-Israel advertising might go a long way towards making people think; throwing around the word "libel" makes us look reactionary and defensive. And protected speech is protected speech. The bus ads qualify, and if that makes some local Jews uncomfortable, well, that's the price of free speech. The people who so despise those bus ads should come up with a little free speech of their own and, if need be, cover a few city buses with it. Couldn't hurt.

The hippo cycle

While preparing for my upcoming move, I discovered a box of 3.5-inch disks filled with writings from my high school and college years. I hope to perform some of the poetry at a future Kibbutz Coffeehouse, but for the moment I have to be content with posting the choicest bits right here. And what could be choicer than my hippo cycle? I still remember the night I started working on it: My parents told me dinner was ready, but I couldn't tear myself away from the computer. I miss that creative intensity and the sense of playfulness that, almost paradoxically, accompanied it. Finding these 15-year-old relics also reminded me of an interview Sasha Frere-Jones did several years back with Fiona Apple, in which she recalled something very similar:

FA: I used to write stories and stuff when I was in my room. I constantly think about this time. This makes me so sad in a certain way. I don’t know why I always reference this moment. I can remember sitting at my desk in my room, up at my mom’s house. And I remember my mom calling me for dinner over and over and over again, and me saying, “Wait, wait, wait,” because I was writing a story. I made up a story, and I was writing this twenty-page story. It was great, and I was finishing it up and I wasn’t going to leave until I was finished because I was really enjoying writing the story. I always remember that: I wasn’t going to go and eat dinner because I was finishing writing a story.

SFJ: Why is that sad?

FA: Because I wouldn’t do that now. Because I wouldn’t even start a story, let alone not go to dinner because I was finishing it.

SFJ: I think you’re being a little hard on yourself.

FA: That’s my job. Jesus.

Naturally, when I read that interview, it resonated deeply with me. It's not always clear how we go from creative dervishes to people who can't be bothered to start a story, but it's worth thinking about. Not so we can beat ourselves up, but so we can try to reclaim even a portion of what we had: that eagerness to make something new, to experiment, to play. And now, without further ado, the hippo cycle:

An Ode to Hippos Everywhere

The hippo's a majestic beast
In ev'ry shape and way,
Yet still there seems some ignorance
About its life and play.

The hippo's gray (we all know that),
And rather large and round.
Still, some of us (I won't name names)
Don't know where he is found.

The hippomus mammalius lives not in your backyard.
He dwells in rivers, swamps, and lakes,
And life is rather hard
For something so filled up with lard.

Indeed, proceed, hunt hippos!
(With camaras, not guns)
Don't let a hippo flatten you, however:
They weigh tons!

To conclude my lesson to
You readers mid-sized, large, and small,
I'll admit I don't know much
about the hippo-beast at all!

Hippo Limericks

There once lived a hippo from Dover,
Whose lifestyle seemed quite incomplete.
Legend says he aspired
To opera, was fired,
And ended up out on the street.

There once lived a hippo from Texas,
Who chased endlessly after her tail.
After years of hard work,
With a sigh and a smirk,
She succeeded, and then posted bail.

Red Blue Green quoted by Pew Research Center!

My April post about the British version of Scrabble that allows proper nouns apparently caught the eye of the nice folks at Pew, who proceeded to quote me in the recent article "Game Changer." To wit:

However, within a day, some bloggers and mainstream outlets such as the Washington Post did some investigating and determined that the BBC report was misleading. In reality, the Mattel company, which has international rights to the game but not the rights in the U.S., plans on releasing a new version called Scrabble Trickster, which will allow proper nouns. The original game will remain untouched.

Some bloggers updated their blogs accordingly.

"Reliable sources have informed me that the British version of Scrabble that permits proper nouns is, in fact, a gimmicky one-off rather than some kind of new world order," wrote Neal Schindler at Red Blue Green just hours after the initial news report surfaced. "The American version, owned by Hasbro, still bans proper nouns, as well it should. I feel better."

Needless to say, I'm honored. It's not every day a dedicated citizen journalist gets his name in lights. (I'm also thrilled, of course, to be mentioned in the same report as a blogger named Chris "Chugs" Taylor.) Hopefully I can show my appreciation by coming back to this blog, which I've been neglecting of late, mostly due to the demands of full-time work. Friends have noticed my absence and encouraged me to get back on the horse, and I appreciate that.

Eat your heart out

My personal essay on Judaism and overeating is live at Jew-ish.com, complete with a luscious picture of pie. Allow me to wipe the drool off my screen...

Geek love

I figure the next stop on my search for a mate is the exciting world of dating sites for nerds. Fortunately, Nerve.com was kind enough to do a roundup of geek-romance nodes (isn't "node" a nerdy word?) so I don't have to. I did, however, write an article once about love among Seattle's hardcore Scrabble enthusiasts. It doesn't get a whole lot geekier than them.

Children of intermarriage, unite!

My piece on the Half-Jewish Network went live today at Jew-ish.com. It's an intriguing organization, and the topic of intermarriage is a real Pandora's box in Jewish circles, so I look forward to future discussions of it on the Jew-ish blog. I happen currently to be reading a borrowed copy of Doron Kornbluth's Why Marry Jewish?, a calm, thoughtful argument against intermarriage based on studies suggesting it makes life difficult for couples and their children. Kornbluth's thesis is that the added difficulty isn't worth it. It's interesting to get the other side's views (I remain unconvinced that intermarriage is as harmful as Kornbluth says), and I hope to write about the book soon. As I read it, I can't help but think of Jerry Mander's Four Arguments for the Elimination of Television -- another book-length essay that swam against the cultural tide in the name of what (the author thought) was best for humankind.

Mini-reviews

A short while ago I wrote several 100- to 200-word blurbs about some of my favorite Seattle things, past and present. They didn't run where I hoped they would, so I've decided to publish them here.

Empire Ice Cream
Got a hankering for some beet sorbet? How about a little saffron ice cream? Part of Seattle’s artisanal ice cream trend, Empire, like its similarly adored competitor Molly Moon’s, is anything but plain vanilla. Several friendly guys and gals from the little company’s Queen Anne headquarters travel each week to the Ballard and University District farmers markets to hawk their delectable wares. Can’t make it to market? Queen Anne’s Paragon Restaurant & Bar has Empire’s stuff on the menu, and the neighborhood’s Eat Local food store carries it, too.

Café Razor
Stylist Mallory Fry liked working at Rudy’s University District salon, but this year she decided to strike out on her own. Razor’s punny name – it’s in the back of the U District club Café Racer, a hidden gem in its own right – reflects Fry’s playful attitude toward her work. So does the art on the walls, which evokes a bohemian French painter’s studio, or maybe just an out-of-the-way Pioneer Square gallery. The tiny salon’s sole chair offers a view of Racer’s stage, and Fry’s late weekend hours – she cuts until 10 p.m. Thursday through Saturday – allow customers to take in a show while they get a trim. (Featured musical acts have included everything from New York psychedelic rock to homegrown old-timey folk.) Fry is charming and chatty, so you don’t have to sit in awkward silence. And, lest we forget, she’s excellent with hair – women’s and men’s alike. Her work at Rudy’s familiarized her with a wide variety of heads, so whether you’re yearning for a radical new look or simply maintaining an old favorite, she’s up to the task. 5828 Roosevelt Way NE, 206.428.8372.

Washington Ensemble Theatre
This is fringe theater as it was meant to be. Founded by a pack of University of Washington alums, WET has made its reputation as a place that debuts new works by up-and-coming playwrights. But it’s also a theater devoted to the strength of the ensemble, which currently includes the prodigiously talented Elise Hunt and (co-founder) Michael Place. In addition, the QTET program (Queer Teen Ensemble Theatre) gives local LGBT youth a chance to create original plays. A recent production, Titus, was a new adaptation of Shakespeare’s gory drama, with an emphasis on the play’s timely themes of political prisoners, betrayal, and torture. Even when it comes to the Bard, WET puts fresh ideas onstage.

Denny Blaine Park
Madison Beach Park is a fun summer spot, but it can get pretty crowded. If you want cool water, soft sand, and a mellower atmosphere, Madison’s little sister, Denny Blaine, might be the place for you. A small, semi-secluded Lake Washington beach tucked beside a grassy park, this underrated oasis attracts a diverse crowd: kids, couples, retirees, and tourists. It doesn’t offer the glamour of the upscale Madison Park neighborhood within stumbling distance, but sometimes all you need on a hot July afternoon is a place to take a dip and sunbathe your cares away.

Ravenna Alehouse
The “RavTav,” as it’s known among locals, used to be called the Ravenna Tavern, and folks say it was a genuine dive, seedy as they come. The Alehouse, on the other hand, is the kind of dive you actually want to go back to. It’s remarkably unpretentious for Seattle’s tony North End. Sure, there’s a digital jukebox, but there’s also pool, Taco Tuesdays, good local beer (among many other choices), and a clientele that’s always ready for a good time. And did we mention that the cook’s name is Cookie? 2258 NE 65th St, 206.729.9083.

One more time-capsule poem

I wrote this one in 1998, as a creative writing major at Oberlin. My mother uses it in the introduction of her soon-to-be-published memoir, (Re)vision of a Life: My Mother’s Holocaust Story.

KADDISH

a welling up of voices,
sorrowed, pious
and heavy with deference

these are
the dizzying heights
of mourning, of seeking out
the unanswerable questions
and answering them once more

this is
how He would have us weep,
how the order of things must be,
how lives at their end
are marked by narrow grooves
worn into the Rock of Ages

raised on the odor
of old pine pews,
the child finds his place
in the Holy Ark, his lullabies
the swelling hymns and distant,
hollow voices of the dead

And here's a passage from my mother's book:

I am the only child of Holocaust survivors. As is the case with most of the second generation, I am one of very few of our family members left in the world. I never knew my grandparents or a host of other relatives who could have filled my bank of memories and experiences while growing up. Instead, they were photographs to me—and stories. I always felt different in that regard as a child, except when I was around others who had suffered similar losses even before they were born. My recollection of childhood memories is incomplete, but the Leitmotif is certainly the Holocaust. My mother would say with both grief and pride: “I am from the Holocaust. I am the survivor, the only one left from my big family.” And now my son Neal and I are the only ones left from her side of the family.

My Birthright article

Not my best work, but maybe still worth your time. My next piece, about Jewish porn, ought to be a little stronger.

The power of Wordle

This delightful online app can convert a perfectly normal essay into a lively word cloud.

Jews and Buddhism

My Jew-ish.com piece went live today! Hooray!

I've been bloggin' away at Jew-ish.com

Check it!

Wanna know all about my Inauguration experience?

Looky here. And check out my Inauguration album on Facebook, if you're able.

Jewish views of the afterlife

I have a new piece up at Jew-ish.com. Enjoy!

Farewell to Dubya

I wrote a goodbye letter to President Bush for a group blog that collects them. You should, too!

My piece on Jewish motorcycling is live!

Enjoy!

My new shopping article for NWsource.com

It's live!

My first Jew-ish.com article is live!

Exciting.