tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-308064802024-03-19T03:42:38.238-04:00Shivvetee Vessels and ShardsHere you will find poetry from the upper and lower worlds, as well as colorful shards of prose. The tides will occasionally wash in some edgy poetics and scientific-spiritual musings, and if there's a storm out at sea, Zionist politics and a collectible rant or two.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09096593722008505361noreply@blogger.comBlogger369125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30806480.post-77229501505995523732018-12-30T10:49:00.000-05:002018-12-30T10:49:53.987-05:00Musings on trans-personal consciousness<div style="white-space: pre-wrap;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Sitting on a ridge in the Mojave Desert, just north of Joshua Tree National Park, watching a rain storm blow in…</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Like fronts of weather moving across a landscape, similarly, emotions and beliefs blow across human societies and through human consciousness, and we, without the “meteorological” tools to see, measure, track, or forecast those fronts of emotion, instead experience them as arisen from ourselves, individually, and thus with no capacity to prepare for and shelter ourselves from them, so that we might be able to remain largely unaffected and undamaged by the storms such fronts can bring on. Instead, we are overwhelmed by them, and blown like tumbleweeds across the emotional landscape; a society, a world of tumbleweeds blown about without shelter or stability.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">We have yet to understand that...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">To read the rest of this short musing, please go to:</span><br />
<a href="http://www.steveberer.com/work-in-progress/"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">http://www.steveberer.com/work-in-progress/</span></a><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">or specifically:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><a href="http://www.steveberer.com/work-in-progress/2018/12/30/musings-on-trans-personal-consciousness">http://www.steveberer.com/work-in-progress/2018/12/30/musings-on-trans-personal-consciousness</a> </span>Stephen Bererhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18089262326652410616noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30806480.post-29724315033132209262018-12-04T21:04:00.000-05:002018-12-04T21:04:44.580-05:00<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">I just posted 2 short vignettes from the <span style="color: orange;"><b>Atternen Juez Talen</b></span> translated back into 'normal' English. You can find them at <i>Filtered Lights, A Public Notebook</i>. Here's the link:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><br /><a class="ot-anchor aaTEdf" dir="ltr" href="http://www.steveberer.com/work-in-progress/" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">http://www.steveberer.com/work-in-progress/</a><br /><br />And here's a little add-on, a picture from our front yard looking at the lit up house across the street, shopped up a bit, of course:</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3LdkFoNo0bq6B4RCJSVK8ycmQmCLqmqhN3EFjWr_4PBHhnqJUtMp-SuMKdnNu8fsEjXbhZBqZvrjG6-iVJw_tC8JfXG62M0RVtECuA5KGXk-TxFNAElsbQ5fleQxbT_xpg2A3Tw/s1600/LightsAcrossSt-+%252810%2529Curv51.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1111" data-original-width="1600" height="277" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3LdkFoNo0bq6B4RCJSVK8ycmQmCLqmqhN3EFjWr_4PBHhnqJUtMp-SuMKdnNu8fsEjXbhZBqZvrjG6-iVJw_tC8JfXG62M0RVtECuA5KGXk-TxFNAElsbQ5fleQxbT_xpg2A3Tw/s400/LightsAcrossSt-+%252810%2529Curv51.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
Stephen Bererhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18089262326652410616noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30806480.post-33027548445723344052018-11-14T13:56:00.000-05:002018-11-14T13:56:04.640-05:00Xerxes' gold cupAn illuminated gold cup, part of the Megillat Esther Josh and I are
producing. Watch the short slideshow (6 slides) of its production, at...<br /><br /><a class="ot-anchor aaTEdf" dir="ltr" href="http://www.steveberer.com/work-in-progress/" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">http://www.steveberer.com/work-in-progress/</a><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG9hE5Uwx62ROMszRdEVUAt7NeIyEw1WnApLzyEcnw-BOXI0rWooLq7zwnMzyh5U7RpluiCGKD-9QbFYsv3Unj0AaAqXifXZrDgFGlX6RilWThtbxmAWCwvTBv9yzuC9LjaVULvQ/s1600/Image-28-14a-complete.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1129" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG9hE5Uwx62ROMszRdEVUAt7NeIyEw1WnApLzyEcnw-BOXI0rWooLq7zwnMzyh5U7RpluiCGKD-9QbFYsv3Unj0AaAqXifXZrDgFGlX6RilWThtbxmAWCwvTBv9yzuC9LjaVULvQ/s400/Image-28-14a-complete.jpg" width="281" /></a></div>
Stephen Bererhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18089262326652410616noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30806480.post-57463610490870890992018-11-01T15:51:00.003-04:002018-11-01T15:52:54.729-04:003 fragments from my notebook<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Here's a new post on my blog, <b><span style="color: orange;">Filtered Lights</span></b>, with 3 fragments: a poem; a parable; an introspection.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">You can find it here...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">http://www.steveberer.com/work-in-progress/</span><br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09096593722008505361noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30806480.post-29291043536122676922018-10-16T21:39:00.000-04:002018-10-16T21:41:02.670-04:00<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Check out the next steps in the illuminated <span style="color: orange;">Megillat Esther</span> that Josh and I are producing. Click the link below to see what page 3 will look like, approximately, as well as a photo of Josh, Maddy, and me.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><a href="http://www.steveberer.com/work-in-progress/">http://www.steveberer.com/work-in-progress/</a></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXje5yenHeittQwFVU4wYn9YecvLYB3VHbDkjwj21LJ5sdn5MIIY1L-xij2tLrNaGS1dw9FixeqHVFwOP8n7GUFS6MQfudBmQMtou0ZaVQ03xfl2sae47L081hQXBBn3Ld8ytkGg/s1600/megillah+work+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="942" data-original-width="1000" height="375" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXje5yenHeittQwFVU4wYn9YecvLYB3VHbDkjwj21LJ5sdn5MIIY1L-xij2tLrNaGS1dw9FixeqHVFwOP8n7GUFS6MQfudBmQMtou0ZaVQ03xfl2sae47L081hQXBBn3Ld8ytkGg/s400/megillah+work+1.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09096593722008505361noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30806480.post-80439327851849754052018-08-21T13:47:00.000-04:002018-08-21T13:52:30.605-04:00Transmigrant Journals, a new story<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">One of my long term projects is to compile stories of odd events, other-worldly experiences, and strange dreams in a book titled <b><span style="color: orange;">Transmigrant Journals</span></b>. Here's the opening scene of a story that I'm currently calling "Re-Education". </span><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />Read it here...<br /><a href="http://www.steveberer.com/work-in-progress/">http://www.steveberer.com/work-in-progress/</a></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8dVUvTqbsZ4VF7DarjkThSk29k0XXoEkUEyxZGOI0sXLgyYg7QUKnd9rjUkGv_xvv-j4j5hZCk-ew2hMeTJVJiM1mDZGgLCeBZ-JgTmCajqtZcYvLsb2DX0UoLtEVj85CJkQ9fw/s1600/DuomoMus18-20160621_174233.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="1280" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8dVUvTqbsZ4VF7DarjkThSk29k0XXoEkUEyxZGOI0sXLgyYg7QUKnd9rjUkGv_xvv-j4j5hZCk-ew2hMeTJVJiM1mDZGgLCeBZ-JgTmCajqtZcYvLsb2DX0UoLtEVj85CJkQ9fw/s400/DuomoMus18-20160621_174233.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09096593722008505361noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30806480.post-4734250681730231002018-08-14T20:25:00.000-04:002018-08-14T20:25:56.578-04:00Megillat Esther: Vashti portrait<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">While Josh is producing pages of text, I'm working on the illuminations. Here's my most recently completed image, a portrait of Vashti, the king's courageous wife who will not be disgraced as a sex object by the crude and drunken king. </span><div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">To see the complete slideshow, presenting the portrait's development, please go to Filtered Lights. Here's the link:</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><a href="http://www.steveberer.com/work-in-progress/">http://www.steveberer.com/work-in-progress/</a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Here's one of the images, showing the initial gold work:</span><div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbbga5EHx_EmQnzzfZtjl0rOmQ2nvD7kuENninWGJg7JftE5g5MZIpgcGhaN5he4-DrNsAHNKbzTGiAFAqAlePrByIu0N4nOm-H6y4_vz7vtFNglH4IOG8l6s7eSfrSifgF4pbTA/s1600/Image-26-2a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1137" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbbga5EHx_EmQnzzfZtjl0rOmQ2nvD7kuENninWGJg7JftE5g5MZIpgcGhaN5he4-DrNsAHNKbzTGiAFAqAlePrByIu0N4nOm-H6y4_vz7vtFNglH4IOG8l6s7eSfrSifgF4pbTA/s400/Image-26-2a.jpg" width="283" /></a></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09096593722008505361noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30806480.post-28567068478702031122018-08-07T20:16:00.000-04:002018-08-07T20:16:09.420-04:00Mystical musings by the Atternen Ju (Eternal Jew)<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The following short excerpt is from a scene in <b><span style="color: orange;">The Atternen Juez Talen</span></b>. Our hero has recently migrated to Poland (around 1320 CE) to start a new life, yet again. He is reflecting on a line from the daily prayers, that the Master of the Universe daily renews the act of creation (often interpreted to mean that the world, and each individual in it, is created anew each day, or even each moment). Reflecting on his own renewal, he goes off on a riff.<br /><br />Here is a prose translation into standard English (what I call 'old English'), and then the original text as it was composed...<br /><br />I, the Eternal Jew am a voice in the streaming world a-coil in you -- a recurring face, a recurring place, unknown, familiar, a recurring embrace. Hate me and I will choke you with hate. Fear me and I will hound you with fear. Love me and I will ignite a desire that consumes but can’t be satisfied ...</span><div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">To read the whole excerpt, please go to my new blog, <b><span style="color: orange;">Filtered Lights</span></b>. You will find the post here...<br /><a href="http://www.steveberer.com/work-in-progress/">http://www.steveberer.com/work-in-progress/</a></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09096593722008505361noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30806480.post-27923480808841101372018-08-02T11:42:00.000-04:002018-08-02T11:42:37.863-04:00For those who praise war...<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The Eternal Jew hears a noise one morning. At first he thinks its thunder; then an earthquake. Then he realizes, an army is attacking. This scene in <b><span style="color: orange;">The Atternen Juez Talen</span></b> takes place in approximately 1100CE. First a translation into standard English, and then the original in MetaEnglish. </span><div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><i>And behind the forward shock of noise<br />The walls of dust that choke your breath<br />And cloak your face in a deathly mask<br />So dragoon and drayman, commando and corpse<br />All look like statues in a Roman tomb.<br /><br />And this the song them dragoons sung:...</i></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span><div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">To read the rest of the poem, go to my other blog, Filtered Lights -- A Public Notebook, at </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><a href="http://www.steveberer.com/work-in-progress/">http://www.steveberer.com/work-in-progress/</a></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09096593722008505361noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30806480.post-75334046924801166802017-11-06T12:34:00.000-05:002017-11-06T12:34:20.184-05:00Jonah ReVisioned<br />
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I partnered with 2 others to produce a rethinking of Jonah for Yom Kippur -- Jonah ReVisioned. Here it is at the Forward:<br /><a href="http://forward.com/scribe/386907/jonah-reimagined/">http://forward.com/scribe/386907/jonah-reimagined/</a>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09096593722008505361noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30806480.post-41270063250945715842017-06-09T17:43:00.000-04:002017-06-09T17:43:39.460-04:00Filtered Lights: Colorwork on AkhashveroshHere's a link to a video showing the progression of colorwork on the first image for our Megillat Esther:<br /><br />http://www.steveberer.com/work-in-progress/Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09096593722008505361noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30806480.post-25470479080226054072017-06-08T21:23:00.001-04:002017-06-08T21:23:19.510-04:00On Filtered Lights: While saying the Sh'maHere is a poem that came to me last night that tries to convey the ineffable experience of transcendence. The poetry is followed by a prose translation in normal English:<br />
<b><span style="color: orange;">Wile Sayen the Sh'ma, I Wuz Herd...</span></b><br />
<br />The full text can be found on Filtered Lights:<br />
<a href="http://www.steveberer.com/work-in-progress/">http://www.steveberer.com/work-in-progress/</a><br />
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but here's a taste:<br /><br />
<b>Wile Sayen the Sh’ma, I Wuz Herd...</b><br />
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Yur evver waer iz this Ruwakh werl<br />
But hu knoez the Ruwakh tu see it?<br />
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Yu wuz spaken a roer<br />
That ar seemen a silens,<br />
Tho Yur Proffets say iz a wisper<br />
Evver wun heerz<br />
But hu ar lissenz? Evver wun<br />
Stanz so klose but stil too far....<br />
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<b>While Saying the Sh’ma, I Heard...</b><br />
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You are everywhere in this Ruakh world but who knows the Ruakh to see it?<br />
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You who spoke in a roar that seemed like a silence, tho Your Prophets say it is a whisper everyone hears, but who is listening? Every one stands so close but still too far.<br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09096593722008505361noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30806480.post-79109864561005949092017-05-19T18:07:00.001-04:002017-05-19T18:08:19.472-04:00On Filtered Lights - the first rhytonFiltered Lights: a new post -- Megillat Esther, the first rhyton.<br />
Six images showing the progress of my illumination work on an image. Here's the link:<br />
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http://www.steveberer.com/work-in-progress/<br />
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and here's one of the images:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioJgMrbnB72JG7Jo6z0IkLoeq9s_o5W8pNP8kjUdVJ3Nn8wAThna7mvsCt7XQaZtRWjIo1I54zvv6Ysys4KSc9e34M7D2PsW1B2qMZ3Y2bYa58w-PgXKbs4b6upvYlxkW_P_PXwg/s1600/Storyboard1-3-05e-1_2-small.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioJgMrbnB72JG7Jo6z0IkLoeq9s_o5W8pNP8kjUdVJ3Nn8wAThna7mvsCt7XQaZtRWjIo1I54zvv6Ysys4KSc9e34M7D2PsW1B2qMZ3Y2bYa58w-PgXKbs4b6upvYlxkW_P_PXwg/s400/Storyboard1-3-05e-1_2-small.jpg" width="277" /></a></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09096593722008505361noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30806480.post-51462526484529587372017-05-02T17:47:00.002-04:002017-05-02T17:47:55.031-04:00On Filtered Lights: Megillah color workMy latest post on Filtered Lights, my new blog...<br />
"Megillat Esther: new images; colorwork."<br />
You can find it here:<br />
http://www.steveberer.com/work-in-progress/<br />
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Here's a preview:<br /><br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09096593722008505361noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30806480.post-10564925508251858772017-03-29T15:32:00.003-04:002017-03-29T15:32:44.408-04:00Filtered Lights -- illumination work on AkhashveroshMy latest post on Filtered Lights can be found here...<br />
http://steve-berer.squarespace.com/work-in-progress<br />
Next step, colorwork.<br />
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Here's a preview:<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09096593722008505361noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30806480.post-58736139814002222192017-03-27T14:35:00.000-04:002017-03-27T14:35:26.134-04:00<div data-contents="true">
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<div class="_1mf _1mj" data-offset-key="a05el-0-0">
<span data-offset-key="a05el-0-0">At Filtered Lights, a new post... </span></div>
<div class="_1mf _1mj" data-offset-key="a05el-0-0">
<span data-offset-key="a05el-0-0">'Nature Studies'.</span></div>
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<div class="_1mf _1mj" data-offset-key="fqgk-0-0">
<span data-offset-key="fqgk-0-0">Some photos of local wetlands, and enhancements of them. You can find this and more at:</span></div>
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<div class="_1mf _1mj" data-offset-key="dk62f-0-0">
<span data-offset-key="dk62f-0-0">http://www.steveberer.com/work-in-progress/</span></div>
<div class="_1mf _1mj" data-offset-key="dk62f-0-0">
<span data-offset-key="dk62f-0-0"><br /></span></div>
<div class="_1mf _1mj" data-offset-key="dk62f-0-0">
<span data-offset-key="dk62f-0-0">A preview:</span></div>
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<span data-offset-key="dk62f-0-0"><br /></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYySI1BKkiSzh_anGMpCaMFIzkLFd_6FlUzeDmGTRzOdtsAFfFQgoh4JQZZhTj7UTdIyRB29F0h22VwS9iOuDkHwzD8L3OrZiS2IxO2bV4SWRs7v5UO-FEgn1cJT4eXwHlwjt04w/s1600/RCP-20170327-2-hue-curv87mod-small.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYySI1BKkiSzh_anGMpCaMFIzkLFd_6FlUzeDmGTRzOdtsAFfFQgoh4JQZZhTj7UTdIyRB29F0h22VwS9iOuDkHwzD8L3OrZiS2IxO2bV4SWRs7v5UO-FEgn1cJT4eXwHlwjt04w/s400/RCP-20170327-2-hue-curv87mod-small.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09096593722008505361noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30806480.post-47187134468753348382017-03-23T16:04:00.000-04:002017-03-23T16:04:49.932-04:00New on Filtered Lights, my new blog...<br />
Work on an illuminated Megillat Esther. You can read a brief description and see some images here:<br />
http://www.steveberer.com/work-in-progress/<br />
<br />
Here's a little preview...<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheNIH8M-Mnpj7NSxplNsbBpUN9Y8NVu9NKRwzNK2enSOG76uUKF9CJxVIITsda1oqXHNRAZJ3mWCrGn-KkYqNdrw-ViRWjnneFTHQBtwK-cSvD9RaSva_ZtveKVJw7NFtJBj9W_A/s1600/Calligraphy1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheNIH8M-Mnpj7NSxplNsbBpUN9Y8NVu9NKRwzNK2enSOG76uUKF9CJxVIITsda1oqXHNRAZJ3mWCrGn-KkYqNdrw-ViRWjnneFTHQBtwK-cSvD9RaSva_ZtveKVJw7NFtJBj9W_A/s400/Calligraphy1.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaf1t59v2oqlWt9NWNMGAbyK1rDGwGD7hV8iGf_TQ1L0PlT4KlJx2suWU57bOxOVghedCA_M5BAJFhjsHM-PpYhoKG-zPMKvS-jazgYrBbRLVq3e5BE8bHd_gbx0oiAiMjkM8XKA/s1600/Storyboard2-01-allb.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaf1t59v2oqlWt9NWNMGAbyK1rDGwGD7hV8iGf_TQ1L0PlT4KlJx2suWU57bOxOVghedCA_M5BAJFhjsHM-PpYhoKG-zPMKvS-jazgYrBbRLVq3e5BE8bHd_gbx0oiAiMjkM8XKA/s400/Storyboard2-01-allb.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09096593722008505361noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30806480.post-59004771391754244402016-12-07T17:51:00.002-05:002016-12-07T17:53:21.731-05:00Song ov Elmallah, VI, Tranzmigrents LammentContinuing to edit <b><span style="color: orange;">The Song ov Elmallahz Kumming, Part VI</span></b>, I came across this poem.<br />
Part VI takes place during the Holocaust. The main character, Rivkah is fleeing overland towards Palestine. When she began her flight, a Torah was forced upon her to save. Now, months later...<br />
<br />
<b><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Tranzmigrents Lamment</span></b><br />
<i><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>...oh, oh, well I want to know</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>will you come with me?</span></i><br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; white-space: pre;"> </span><i><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Uncle John’s Band”,</span></i><i><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span></i><i><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Grateful Dead</span></i><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Thoze owwerz and thoze lievz</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I thot I livd; thaer relleksOn a tabel, now overternd;</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Like so mennee objekts, tinsel and goeld,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Skatterd, krusht, or kikt asside.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Wut did I see in them? Wut did thay hoeld?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Now tell me wut it meenz tu be a hewman,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">And tell me wut it meenz tu liv a day.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">And tell me wut it meenz tu be the chozen,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">And tell me wut it meenz wen we ar pray.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I held wun life;</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">1000 plezherz filld me.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I held wun life;</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">1000 terrerz gript me.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I held wun life;</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">1000 luvz wer in my hand,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">And now the wind haz bloen them</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Like a seengel graen ov sand.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">And like 1000 leevz, wisselleeng, russelleeng</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I thot I koud heer sumtheeng in the wind.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Leevz tumbelleeng and sand hisseeng...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">And then it got kleerer, and then it got neerer:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Plaenz grumbelleeng and bomz thundereeng.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">But that was not it. Thay past awway.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">And then it got purer, and then it got shorer:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Not a sownd at awl, nor a feeleeng, nor a thot,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">But a rezzaddew ov eenk that had rubd off on my skin,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Now dizzolvd intu my blud, that aenshent proffessee</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Askeeng or demandeeng az evver it had dun:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Erthah, Rivkah, wut I wont tu kno,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Iz, wen will yu rize and wok with me?”</span><br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09096593722008505361noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30806480.post-90420507732965773362016-12-04T19:49:00.000-05:002016-12-04T19:49:39.346-05:00Song of Elmallah, Part VI, introductionI keep putting off completing the last book of The Song ov Elmallahz Kumming. It just needs revisions to some of its poems, so I went to look at it tonight, and behold, I found another reason to put off working on it! I read the introduction and thought it was so good, I decided to post it here. (I suppose if I didn't like my own writing, I wouldn't write.)<br /><br />
<span style="color: orange;"><b>Gottverdamnerung: In the End ov Time</b></span><br />
<span style="color: orange;"><b>You Will Soon Be Leaving Me, Too</b></span><br />
<br />
How suddenly I feel thrust out of Heloise’s arms, with whom I’ve lain these many years, trying to complete my Knowen of her. How cruel and sudden death is. We know it’s coming; we expect it; there are moments of dread. And then death divides us! Our bodies are irrevocably separated; our hearts cloven with an unimaginable wound. Our tears fill but a cup. It overflows.<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>A semi-transparent filter has darkened the world. Everything is the same, but the tone is more somber. How many layers of these filters are lain upon our Souls until all light is filtered away? I love Heloise, and she is no more.<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I have thrown rock and soil upon her, and walked, broken, away. I call out to my God, “Where is Your Moment of Bliss?” There is no answer. Again I must remember I am here, down here, in the world, in Ertha. Here I am, and like a child who cries out to a parent and receives no response, I cry louder. I sob. My Parent stands ready in the next room, but this I must do, without help. We both grieve at my sorrow.<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>They say a ladder was extended from heaven, and angels descended and ascended. This was a dream. In reality, angels may descend, but once we have touched Ertha, once we have kissed her or cursed her, a filter darkens our eyes, our hearts, our Souls. No more can we find the ladder. If it is there, we cannot see it. If we reach out to it, we cannot hold it. Its rungs will not support our heaviness of heart.<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>So, what is there to do? I must build a ladder! Some say the ladder is there, and I must merely climb it. They call it Torah. Others say climbing is merely a matter of faith. With faith, all will be accomplished, they say. They refer to new books extolling a man. What is the difference between faith and illusion? Those that talk so boldly are full of illusion. And it grieves me, for Ertha is full mostly of illusion and very little faith. Our Sacred Books are not a ladder. They are but incomplete instructions. Each of us must build. And each must improvise.<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>But wait! A wonderful realization has just now struck me. This is not only the work of angels. Everyone is building! Some are still searching for the first tool. Others have amassed materials but can fashion nothing. This work is hard. Having too much creates an impossible burden. With too little, nothing holds together.<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Heloise, you have helped me fashion a rung in my ladder. For this you are inscribed in my Soul, and you are made holy. Who now will hold me in her arms? Will her kisses be so sensuous and eager? Will her body tremble with a pleasure that reaches to the Moment of Bliss? Shkheenah, will You love me so sweetly again?<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And you, my dear reader, my leader who has followed me so far! You too, will be leaving me soon. But I will not leave you!<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>~<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Elmallah</span><br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09096593722008505361noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30806480.post-25845562135553947132016-12-01T13:26:00.000-05:002016-12-01T13:27:51.519-05:00Atternen Ju: altered states<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">The time is about 1170CE. The place is north of Damascus. Our hero and his wife are making their way to Khazaria or Poland, or who-knows-where, and lo, before them, the Euphrates...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Here's a prose, standard English version of their trip.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Here on these shores we eat the last of Sheik Sinon’s hashish cakes. As we climb aboard a rottin’ boat, our ferryman, Urshinnab, assures,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Yea, I’ll take you’s all the way up this Euphrates to its source, even to that other world, that Aden where these shores end.”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Anyways, that’s the claim he makes. Batkol frowns and looks around. Marsh and silence. We slip from shore.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Languid ripples bend away. Reeds and muddy shoals and cranes. A breeze. The willows tremble and sigh, wavin’ their arms, ‘Come here. Forget.’ Beneath them, the women washin’ clothes see us and wave and begin to dance, swayin’ hips and sway of arms. And now the plane trees murmur dreams. The rustle of leaves like brushes on drums, and the birds in a chorus, warble refrains as the women bow to the ferry boat,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Hail, ye holy spirits. Ascend.”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">The birds take flight to accompany us; angels and egrets alight on our boat as the River Redemption flows to its source.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">We lie on the prow. The azure sky descends. I touch it. It ripples and bends like water, zigzag arcs shoot out in a spray of color wherever I touch, as I dissolve in the liquid air. Our little ferry stretches out, and with it, like rubber, we elong into giants sailin’ an island upstream.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">We pass beneath a willow tree into a masjid*, tiny and cool, with an intricate dome of inlaid tiles, polished sapphire, jade, and gold. What artist drew such a perfect design? The dome echoes a choir in song; must be a thousand angels of praise. Sudden the dome in a thunder explodes. Birds, leaves, branches, sky. A flock of warblers scatter away and a rain of leaves flutter down....</span><br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; white-space: pre;"> </span><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">* a little mosque</span><br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I wake from a dream. Astonished, I blink. I wake again and the world is new. I am in a boat. What river is this? I wake again. I am in a boat. From far away a woman stares. I know her face. I wake again. Heavy breathin’. I am in a boat. Far away... I wake again. A woman sittin’ far away. She speaks. Her words a waterfall, a low rumble. I wake from a dream. I am in a boat. Music echoes from far away.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“You are Butkoel,"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I think I say. Am I dreamin’? I wake again. She murmurs, but all her words are garbled. I try to explain... She bursts into laughter. I wake from a dream. I am laughing. I close my eyes and see rivers that ripple into words down a page, mosques built in an arbor of trees.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I wake from a dream of rivers and boats. The world is a boat. It rocks on waves, and sooner or later what is standing, falls. It make me dizzy. So that is wy.... </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I wake from a dream. But am I awake? Do I hear singin’ or Batkols voice? She stops laughin’. I listen close.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Splish... Splish... Gurgle ... Splish. The world empties of sight and sound. Just a vast mosaic of blue sky. The splish and gurgle and the ferryman’s wheeze. And then in the silence I hear it again what I’ve heard many times, I don’t know when -- a sigh, a whisper, a word, a phrase that comes like shadow dance on the waves; a voice on the river or a Voice of the Lor singin’ itself, faint as a breeze, singin’ itself through the ages of me. Verses that slowly remember themselves. Mysterious lyrics. What do they mean?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>‘In symmetry of love and decay...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>‘Hear me; touch me.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>‘I care not what is true.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>‘And I betray what is coy.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>‘I’ll lead you where you want to go,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>‘And leave you, cold, alone...’</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Who is this woman? Potiphar’s* wife? Or Lilith callin’ from the farther shore? How do I know her temptin’ song? Again and again, but now it transforms,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>‘In some, the degrees of love...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>‘Come, hurry, touch me carnally.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>‘Refuse echoes.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>‘Cling to what is ekht...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>‘Redeeming you who are called, alone.’</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>* Beraysheet/Genesis 39:1-20</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Batkol, do you hear her luring me?”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“I hear a khazzen* blessin’ us</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“That we might flourish in our new land...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“‘*Et semmukh Duvveed uvdekhah...*’”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>* cantor; prayer leader</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>*-* 15th blessing of the Sh'monah Esray</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Comes twilight and towerin’ palisades rise with mysterious patterns in the rock.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Glyphs writ before Noah’s time.”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Genealogies and weird tales?”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“No one can read it,”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Urshinnub says. For a moment they all read themselves, like the earth revealing her secret life,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Bow to me you little men and I will uncloak myself for you...”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Strange, her language rumbles and booms across the water;</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Be dismayed by your abashment lickin’ my dust*.”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Then silence. There on the highest ridge where the sun is sinkin’ into the haze, a fortress.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“That is Rumkale**, abandoned since the time of Job. We’ll stay the night as its royal guests.”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Our ferryman beaches the tiny skiff. Exhausted, we climb to her who calls.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>* others say: crack</span><br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">** pronounced ‘roomkallay’, the ‘oo’ like’book’</span><br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09096593722008505361noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30806480.post-49923175682084748782016-11-27T11:32:00.000-05:002016-11-27T11:32:58.267-05:00Anti-Semitism: Harbinger of Political and Social Decline I recently completed a research paper entitled <b><span style="color: orange;">Anti-Semitism: Harbinger of Political and Social Decline</span></b>. I uploaded the complete paper to www.academia.edu with this abstract:<br />
<br /><i><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">This article is an analysis of Jew hatred (anti-Semitism) and its debilitating impact on society and governance. It first looks at religious Jew hatred, showing how Muslim Jew hatred is the underlying cause of the Arab-Israel conflict, and how it is also a measure of the dysfunctionality of Arab governments. The paper then turns to ideological-leftist Jew hatred, and the psychological processes that allow bigotry to get embedded into politics. The paper concludes with a brief review of political parties in Europe that are promoting Jew hatred and the fragility of those countries where Jew hatred is most prevalent.</span></i><br /><br /><div>
Here are the opening paragraphs:<br />
I. Introduction<br />
<br />
For those who are paying even modest attention, it is clear that anti-Semitism, conspiracy theories about Jews, and anti-Zionist hatred of Israel, the "Jew of nations," has been on the rise for two decades.<br />
<br />
However, such a general statement provides an unfocused starting place for analysis. In this essay I will look at the problem more closely, teasing apart its three primary strands:<br />
1.<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>religious anti-Semitism and anti-Zionism<br />
2.<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>political/ideological anti-Semitism and anti-Zionism<br />
3.<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>nationalistic anti-Semitism and anti-Zionism<br />
I will begin this analysis with religion, the most historically prevalent form of Jew hatred, and for the sake of brevity and honesty, from here on out I will dispense with euphemisms, and refer to anti-Semitism and anti-Zionism as Jew hatred.<br />
<br />
<br />
II. Religious Jew Hatred<br />
<br />
Religious Jew hatred must be differentiated into its Muslim and Christian forms. Muslim Jew hatred appears to be no worse today than it has been for many decades, certainly since 1948, and probably since 1900 in conjunction with the rise of Zionism. However, saying it is no worse today than it has been for a century is really saying that Islamic Jew hatred is 1. state-promoted; 2. inculcated in the home, school systems, and news and social media; 3. virtually unrestrained; and 4. greatly influenced by Nazi ideology. The ADL’s 2014 study of world anti-Semitism (1), and current events documented on MEMRI’s website(2) verifies the extent and viciousness of this hatred, its profound disconnect from historical evidence, and the comprehensive lack of honesty that dominates opinions across the Muslim world.<br />
<br />
(1.) <span style="font-size: x-small;">Executive Summary: <a href="http://global100.adl.org/public/ADL-Global-100-Executive-Summary.pdf">http://global100.adl.org/public/ADL-Global-100-Executive-Summary.pdf</a>;</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"> Full report: <a href="http://global100.adl.org/">http://global100.adl.org/</a></span><br />
(2.) <span style="font-size: x-small;">MEMRI’S home page: <a href="http://www.memri.org/middle-east-media-research-institute.html">http://www.memri.org/middle-east-media-research-institute.html</a>;</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">MEMRITV: <a href="http://www.memritv.org/">http://www.memritv.org/</a>; MEMRI media archives: <a href="http://www.memri.org/media-archives.html">http://www.memri.org/media-archives.html</a></span><br />
<br />
The consequences are far reaching and highly disturbing. This is surely the underlying cause behind the Arab (and Muslim) refusal to make peace with Israel. Ironically, many people get this backwards. Many people think Arab and Muslim Jew hatred is an effect of conflict with Israel. In fact, it pre-existed and generated those conflicts. The Arabs 1. refused to accept Jewish immigration to Palestine before 1948; 2. refused to accept Israel’s right to exist in 1948; and 3. refused to negotiate with Israel after the ‘48, ‘56, ‘67, and ‘73 wars, and with the exception of Egypt and Jordan (who have made a frigid peace with Israel) at no other time have Arabs come forward and simply accepted Israel’s right to exist. The Palestinian conflict with Israel is a direct result of this refusal to tolerate the existence of a Jewish nation in the Middle East.<br />
<br />
Yet Israel’s existence emerged at the same time and as a result of the same historic events that created every other Middle Eastern nation. Every Middle Eastern country was created in the aftermath of the collapse of the Ottoman Empire, an empire that had colonized this region for over 500 years. And not a single nation created by European powers in the aftermath of the Ottoman collapse had ever existed at any time in history, with the exception of Israel, Lebanon, Egypt, and Yemen. Therefore if Arabs question Israel’s right to exist, they need first question their own nation’s right to exist! Of course, that kind of logic is never applied because Jew hatred is emotional, not logical in its foundations.<br />
<br />
The depth and breadth of the problem mitigates against the possibility of any meaningful and enduring Israeli-Arab peace any time in the foreseeable future. So long as the vast majority of Arabs hate Jews and Israel, any government that makes peace with Israel will be implementing a policy that will undermine its stability. Sisi’s government in Egypt is particularly vulnerable at this time, as it warms to Israel while struggling economically.<br />
<br />
But this widespread, overt, and unashamed Jew hatred in the Muslim world does not only affect Arab-Israeli peace efforts. Indeed, that is only the tip of the iceberg. The existence of widespread Jew hatred in society reflects a society that is socially, politically, economically, and morally fractured and dysfunctional. Where Jew hatred is overt and widespread, general hatred, discrimination, and social fracturing are equally overt and widespread. And a society torn by these fractures will surely be dysfunctional.<br />
<br />
Look at any Arab nation and you will see the result of long-term, unaddressed, and unmitigated Jew hatred. Algeria, Libya, Egypt, Somalia, Mali, Sudan, Eritrea, Lebanon, the Palestinians, Syria, Iraq, Kuwait, and Yemen are all in social and political free-fall. Turkey, Iran, Saudi Arabia, Afghanistan, Pakistan, though mostly non-Arab, are all 90%+ majority Muslim, and are all either torn to pieces in social and political conflict, or dominated by aggressive dictatorships that hold the pieces together with a ruthless police state (as did Syria, Iraq, and Libya for many decades).<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09096593722008505361noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30806480.post-3568465146569299432016-09-19T14:19:00.000-04:002016-09-19T15:01:36.079-04:00Atternen Ju, on the road from TiberiasThis short scene (3 stanzas), I present, first, direct from the heavens, and then in "normal" English. It takes place as the Eternal Jew and his wife Butkoel decide to look for a better place to live, after experiencing decades of economic and social decline in Tiberias. Ironically (I guess), it takes place just outside of Damascus,
about 1170 CE. But it could be last week or last year. If that's
ironic.<br />
<br />
<br />
Meenwielz the lan it seemz gro dark.<br />
Shimmerree shaddoez; waverree hilz.<br />
Wut aelz us that yu skip like ramz?<br />
Sun so brite; blienden us.<br />
Fyureyes heet; choken gasp.<br />
Dus haengen in the thikken aer.<br />
We haz tu fors arselz tu breeth.<br />
A gus a win, sullen, meen.<br />
Travvellerz tern asside, allone,<br />
Rest in the uvvennish shade uv a tree.<br />
<br />
The ro emteez. A villij up ahhed.<br />
Thers. Silens. A moeshenles werl.<br />
A wel ahhed. A moen. A kof.<br />
A gus. A kreek. A gate. It sweeng.<br />
Iz that a kry? Beyon the gate.<br />
A chile. An erchin liez a dus.<br />
Kryz aggen, naree a breth.<br />
Butkoel goez in. “Waerz yur mah?”<br />
Blaenk stare. Dus-wite fase.<br />
Mask a terrer. Mask a deth.<br />
<br />
Silens. Butkoel noks the dor.<br />
Skweeks open. “Hay. Hello?”<br />
Silens. Dark inside. Ar iyz<br />
Ajjust. The flor. Boddeez sprawl<br />
In blak haloez; skarlet ej.<br />
Skreemz. Butkoel. I almoes swoon.<br />
Rush. Owtside. Butkoel grabz<br />
The chile. Silens. Bak in the street.<br />
Mor howzen. Mor ded.<br />
A graybeer sits in a pool a blud.<br />
“Giv me the chile,” iz weeree kummand.<br />
“Sheez wun a mine. Thaer awl mine.<br />
“Now. Be gon. Nevver kno<br />
“Wen thayl retern.” “Hu ar ‘thay’?”<br />
Butkoel asks. Aggen, “Be gon.<br />
“Revenjez bernen hot an long.<br />
“Beware the sown a hors. Be gon.”<br />
He take the chile. Layz her down<br />
In iz lap. Hiz sitz in blud.<br />
“Be gon.” The sun. A skorch the lan.<br />
~~~~~~~~~~~~~<br />
<br />
Meanwhile
the land seems to grow dark. Shimmery shadows; wavery hills. What ails
us that you skip like rams? Sun so bright; blindin' us. Furious heat;
choke and gasp. Dust hangs in the thickened air. We have to force
ourselves to breathe. A gust of wind, sullen, mean. Travelers turn
aside, alone. Rest in the ovenish shade of a tree.<br />
<br />
The road
empties. A village up ahead. Thirst. Silence. A motionless world. A well
ahead. A moan. A cough. A gust. A creak. A gate. It swings. Is that a
cry? Beyond the gate. A child. An urchin lies in dust. Cries again, nary
a breath. Butkoel goes in. “Where's your ma?” Blank stare. Dust-white
face. Mask of terror. Mask of death.<br />
<br />
Silence. Butkoel knocks on
the door. Squeaks open. “Hey. Hello?” Silence. Dark inside. Our eyes
adjust. The floor. Bodies sprawl in black halos; scarlet edged. Screams.
Butkoel. I almost swoon. Rush. Outside. Butkoel grabs the child.
Silence. Back in the street. More houses. More dead. A greybeard sits in
a pool of blood.<br />
“Give me the child,” his weary command. “She's one of mine. They're all mine. Now. Be gone. Never know when they'll return.”<br />
“Who are ‘they’?” Butkoel asks.<br />
Again, “Be gone. Revenge burns hot and long. Beware the sound of horse. Be gone.”<br />
He take the child. Lays her down in his lap. He sits in blood.<br />
“Be gone.”<br />
The sun is scorch the land.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09096593722008505361noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30806480.post-17645248762007263492016-09-01T12:30:00.001-04:002016-09-01T12:32:20.147-04:00In the Land of the Hashashin<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Here is the latest scene in <b><span style="color: orange;">The Atternen Juez Talen</span></b>. It takes place in what is modern Syria. At the time (around 1165 CE) the region was loosely controlled by the Seljuks, and it bordered Crusader (Frankish) territories. The scene begins in Homs and ends in the mountains. I have translated the poetry out of MetaEnglish, and into prose.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">The rav replied with a weary sigh,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Ever the search for a better place and a better time and a better spirit, but the world runs backwards away from the Lor, and the soul, like a man, grows weary and old. So our great feats and heroic deeds are all behind us, and unless God will send a savior, all is lost. Best to stay near the Holy Land, so when satan sets us ablaze, our passage through the furies is brief and the salvin’ land can restore us right quick.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“But I will send a sh’liakh* with you to find you a guide thru Assassia’s lands. Without a guide abandon hope ye who enter, to reach Hama.”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>* agent, representative</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Chiseled stone and fired brick wall us in through our narrow maze; and awnings and balconies over our heads. Neither light nor air, as the heat bakes the sewage in the street befoulin’ our feet.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">A courtyard. Our sh’liakh taps on a door and we wait in the thick shadows and stench. Shuffle. Eyes peer through a crack.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Is Master Bilal acceptin’ guests?”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">The door creaks and we slip from the gloom into utter darkness as the door creaks shut. “Wait.” Footsteps shuffle away.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Slowly our eyes adjust in the dark. A tiny room and a moldering hall. Damp the air, like to breed disease. Shuffle. A tiny and wrinkled man in a white robe and a white beard. “Come.” His slow unsteady steps, like a dirge of death he leads us down the hall and down a coiling stair, like a narrow cave into the maw of the moldery earth.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">There like a king of the underworld, crosslegged, sittin’ on a prayer rug, an idol of stone, its arms as thick as any man’s legs; neck like a tree trunk and a massive head made larger still by a shock of hair and ringlets of beard that tumble and boil into his lap.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">The idol talks and my heart near stops.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Who’re you servin’ up to me, Yacoob? Offerings meant to burn in the Old Man a the Mountain’s grove?”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Our envoy smiles and climbs the stair, leaving us alone in this devil’s den.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">A cascade of shock and fear and rage tumbles down the edge of me --</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>betrayal by that Yacoob scum or by his rav an evil sect in Homs like Sodom’s predators I remember that white robe priest serpent coiled in Palmyra’s ruins that demon boy down his cave I’m bound and gagged by Berber thieves hit him stab him gouge his eyes an idol that devours men this the idol that I serve my scarlet sins these harlot jinns is this justice my reward *v’ut<u>tah</u> tzud<u>deek</u> ul<u>koel</u> hab<u>bah</u> al<u>la</u>nu,kee <u>em</u>met us<u>se</u>tah, v’un<u>nukh</u>nu heer<u>shun</u>nu*...--</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>*-* the vidui, the confession at death;</span><br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; white-space: pre;"> </span><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">this the last line: </span><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">You are righteous</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span> in all that is come on us; You create </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span> </span><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">truth; </span><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">we, wickedness.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“You two ain’t in Damascus now, and its little men and little cares. You jus’ moseyed into the lion’s den; the asp, it slithers; jackals swarm. And you, all blind, would trip along. Your sugary times is behin’ you now. Now is the tastin’ a fear and blood.”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Like a rumble from the guts of the earth, or the sound of thunder down from the hills, or maybe like a wolf’s growl when it sees you sittin’ in its lair, my thoughts continue their cascade while he growls and while I talk.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“We heard the road is straight from here -- Hama, Aleppo, Gaziantep -- and Seljuk soldiers secure the way.”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Seljuk guards? What a pile! Offal pours from the mouth a the king and the people grovel and eat it up. Hashashin rule this countryside. There’s no imam or sheik or prince safe in sleep or on the street, safe indoors or safe with troops, but the Ismailis have their way. Aleppo is seven days from here, in the daylight and on the road. Thrice that time if you wanna live.”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“So we must find our way by night on goat paths and through wadi beds?”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">He frowns like I’m some addled goose.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“I’m the way and I’m the light, and I’m the one that you’ll serve. Or else fuck off and take your chance and end up Ismaili slaves. Unless they choose to cut your froat. I leave tonight jus’ after dark. When you hear the muezzin’s call you bes’ be here. I won’t wait.”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">The ancient white-robe leads us out.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">And then that monologue returns,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>...betrayal never trust that bull what is lie and what half-true...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Call to prayer to the faithful, with all their doubt and all their crud and all their fears and all their sins, sunk in illusions, sunk in muck. Most get sorrows, some get luck. The door creaks and we go from the gloom into utter dark as the door creaks shut.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Carry this!” and he shoves a skin full of water into my hand. “And this!” A sack of white cheese and figs, raisins, olives, nuts and seeds, as he eyes Batkol like a horse to ride.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I have been in this place before. Bilal is here, Batkol, of course. No moon. No clouds. A star-flicker sky. A candle flickers in a hut nearby, and fades away with the deja vu.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I have a dagger strapped to my calf and my walkin’ stick will serve as a club. Butkoel has a blade in her walkin’ stick and a well-stropped razor in her belt.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">We never sleep at the same time. Eye on Bilal; hand on my knife.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Fearflash. A sack over my head. A rope tightens around my neck. I try to shout but only gag, and gags beside me. My hands are bound. Then a shootin’ pain flames through my head.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">My head throbs in blindin’ sears. I can’t see. I can’t move.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Kicked in the back. A bucket of swill splashes on my chest.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Wake up you dog.”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“I can’t see. I can’t breathe.”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Shut up. Who’s that woman with you?”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“My wife, Batkol. Where is she? Is she okay? Where is she?”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“You wanna see her? You wanna see us cut her froat? You wanna see her bound and raped, red hot iron jammed in her eyes? You wanna see her safe and whole? You better talk.”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Searin’ pain across my back. I twist and howl. Sizzlin’ smell, my back charred. I howl and cringe.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Who’s that woman?”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“My wife, my wife.”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Her name?”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Batkol. Really, Batkol.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Again the searin’ white-hot pain.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Her name?”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Batkol. Batkol. Batkol.”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“What kinda name is that -- Batkol? That ain’t no name. Who is she?”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Batsheva Koltov. A Hebrew name. Batsheva -- the favorite wife of Da-ood, the prophet king. You know of him. Koltov, like ‘good in every way’. Made short to Batkol, which our Talmud says means ‘a voice from the Lor,’ ‘an inspired call.’ It’s not a Christian or Zoroastrian name. Not Seljuk or Persian. It’s a Hebrew name.”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Noise. Maybe the irons being cooked.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Batkol. Believe me. Just Batkol. It’s a Jewish name. We’re not from here...”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I babble on for awhile. No use. Silence.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Where have they gone?” I moan.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">In fear and pain; mindless moans; horrors thinkin’ of Batkol’s fate.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Rattle of chains dragged on the floor. Grunts and panting, ‘ooof’ and ‘ecch’.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Who’s this man and who’s he serve? You lie to me, we’ll cut his froat.”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“He’s my husband, Saadya Mishon. He don’t serve no one ‘cept maybe the Lor. We’re not from here, nor been here before. Runnin’ from the Franks and their harsh oppressors, to the far north, to Poland’s lands where we hear they welcome even us Jews.”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“She says you’re a Jew. Prove it to me.”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">And I get a kick in the burn of my back. In the depths of the pain all I can say,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“*Sh’<u>ma</u> Yisro<u>yel</u>. Uddo<u>niy</u> Ello<u>ha</u>nu, Uddo<u>niy</u> e<u>khud</u>. Bo<u>rukh</u> <u>shaem</u>...*”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Silence. Whispers. Another kick.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Whatsat mean in Arabic?”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>*-* the most basic statement </span><br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; white-space: pre;"> </span> <span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">of Jewish identity/faith</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Listen Israel. The Lor our God, the Lor is one. Bless the name, honored... er, also like ‘revealed’, like ‘present in our world’ or at least our soul...”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Shut up! Sheikh, what to do?”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“ Remove the sack from his head; untie his hands. Unbind her from lash and chain. Let him read from these books in his bag. Her, we’ll test her in other ways.”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">As they drag her away I blurt out,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“ Sheikh, she reads as good as me, and she bound those books, the ones I wrote. Test her right here. Show ‘em, Batkol.”</span><br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09096593722008505361noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30806480.post-26668768130606925082016-08-10T12:17:00.000-04:002016-08-10T12:17:32.610-04:00Visions and Revisions of FlorenceNancy was invited to present some research at the Kunsthistorische Institute in Florence earlier this summer. It's a pretty enough town but I'm not a big fan of tourist havens. Summertime in Florence? Outa control. Still...<br />
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2 views of the Duomo:<br /><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-FHGjB4HbHPn8HOcvsgd-SA3tgMScBktFyKBQiHKavlfVOGtx4EAoLE14Yl7ce1QSPZZa4DyF1MCRxEHGC7zUgM18_kaoTockvv4h6cTBlMgM7OpVyu8oqnsQzNEA9jfNVLPz7Q/s1600/Duomo05-20160617-hue-curv85-post5-unsharp25-4-0.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-FHGjB4HbHPn8HOcvsgd-SA3tgMScBktFyKBQiHKavlfVOGtx4EAoLE14Yl7ce1QSPZZa4DyF1MCRxEHGC7zUgM18_kaoTockvv4h6cTBlMgM7OpVyu8oqnsQzNEA9jfNVLPz7Q/s640/Duomo05-20160617-hue-curv85-post5-unsharp25-4-0.jpg" width="360" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsnsuElRFhHjVPKZoMO4JBqf_kHWNBda3ft1_6D_b8c6GAecQDk8NCAs7SObAXgZelSx-zFeNIZHFu9tiCog-8I3Dw6qj6i5THLKVnBamRP1Vb_wH0Kw_1eh33I3peMM_Syuiung/s1600/Duomo26-20160619-levl-hue-curv85adj-hsv1-50-50-100.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsnsuElRFhHjVPKZoMO4JBqf_kHWNBda3ft1_6D_b8c6GAecQDk8NCAs7SObAXgZelSx-zFeNIZHFu9tiCog-8I3Dw6qj6i5THLKVnBamRP1Vb_wH0Kw_1eh33I3peMM_Syuiung/s640/Duomo26-20160619-levl-hue-curv85adj-hsv1-50-50-100.jpg" width="368" /></a></div>
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Tile in the Baptistry:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyt3oFAlvmdQAt3VvKzYOHQ-3l5g73O6eMHal826cl0N21RZpU8pFe3mhXTZbWsMF02z7rrOflT8NwFcTq08dmpwPrSGmDWyvQfAHSZQfg3mon6lDVOd47gQB9o6Fsek-LVRlmJg/s1600/Baptistry04-20160621-hue-levl-curv81.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyt3oFAlvmdQAt3VvKzYOHQ-3l5g73O6eMHal826cl0N21RZpU8pFe3mhXTZbWsMF02z7rrOflT8NwFcTq08dmpwPrSGmDWyvQfAHSZQfg3mon6lDVOd47gQB9o6Fsek-LVRlmJg/s400/Baptistry04-20160621-hue-levl-curv81.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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Candy, eye candy:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5uhD6v_AJBDW6fiCbSMSMbuID9pcmYWwpNUJLxqOMkPwdTa43-ZrUbKbM9InKp8vxa8ISi6n_xrbEI7ckCn33389UDRfgtaxHphoD-GCTjOuAlbjvW5SZICLt7g5Iw8pctRP46A/s1600/food01-20160617-hue-levl-curv84-hsv1-50-50-50.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5uhD6v_AJBDW6fiCbSMSMbuID9pcmYWwpNUJLxqOMkPwdTa43-ZrUbKbM9InKp8vxa8ISi6n_xrbEI7ckCn33389UDRfgtaxHphoD-GCTjOuAlbjvW5SZICLt7g5Iw8pctRP46A/s400/food01-20160617-hue-levl-curv84-hsv1-50-50-50.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFGE1O88Q1_tByie16ltD5Z7IvXseLnZFKcYJNVA9minb97vkWYfgzXFhewvN8F6XRImKRVoFWEWG0aHm4vpD7lem9uh4YYwY3nVXRF8HGepX8dJFElcC3-kIWtpa3n1RzKGhV0Q/s1600/food02-20160617-hue-levl-curv42-post4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFGE1O88Q1_tByie16ltD5Z7IvXseLnZFKcYJNVA9minb97vkWYfgzXFhewvN8F6XRImKRVoFWEWG0aHm4vpD7lem9uh4YYwY3nVXRF8HGepX8dJFElcC3-kIWtpa3n1RzKGhV0Q/s400/food02-20160617-hue-levl-curv42-post4.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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2 views of a garden:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTHUi9kGqoq3uDx5ThdLxksxgz6veF0wpTWI7O5of5bTIfJcC-JMW-zD0d0Q3YXXlqltFeuSKxType95CQBS4NA6g4-1GD-AeksP7fMO61NQEI3upw7cLn-ZzEM0CNvcBwxtGidg/s1600/Garden-20160621-hue-levl-curv41-post4-hsv1-50-50-100.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTHUi9kGqoq3uDx5ThdLxksxgz6veF0wpTWI7O5of5bTIfJcC-JMW-zD0d0Q3YXXlqltFeuSKxType95CQBS4NA6g4-1GD-AeksP7fMO61NQEI3upw7cLn-ZzEM0CNvcBwxtGidg/s400/Garden-20160621-hue-levl-curv41-post4-hsv1-50-50-100.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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A bike:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqU0jJms09kL9W27Pia-FhB7UjWuq0qhaBWFOgdm28otza609vAQm5JN0B3I1uIaZJ0U39LlmYnY8_B8o0ByXelHsmsh3q9kSZ7wVSKgbc42K6PXQAXzNfrijAIgUNmrk_MBb-9Q/s1600/Masonry06-20160619_143125-levl-curv44a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqU0jJms09kL9W27Pia-FhB7UjWuq0qhaBWFOgdm28otza609vAQm5JN0B3I1uIaZJ0U39LlmYnY8_B8o0ByXelHsmsh3q9kSZ7wVSKgbc42K6PXQAXzNfrijAIgUNmrk_MBb-9Q/s640/Masonry06-20160619_143125-levl-curv44a.jpg" width="360" /></a></div>
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My obsession with masonry persists:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJMDZN4yXx26f7s-UenLyRvWbYiE6hiO6WtqulWvDVcJo7kWnY0Ii7prsDsKPf0t4twkBp2ohxONCT_sG-7ZWeVX1rI2aAfwo3HlCo9HNSB7b2sRFXaE1d64zwT1w6cKKtex-yzA/s1600/Masonry08-20160619_160938-levlx2-curv51-cart20-75-unsharp20-16-20.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJMDZN4yXx26f7s-UenLyRvWbYiE6hiO6WtqulWvDVcJo7kWnY0Ii7prsDsKPf0t4twkBp2ohxONCT_sG-7ZWeVX1rI2aAfwo3HlCo9HNSB7b2sRFXaE1d64zwT1w6cKKtex-yzA/s640/Masonry08-20160619_160938-levlx2-curv51-cart20-75-unsharp20-16-20.jpg" width="360" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitrduIviU6VPcfmkxVpk-S3RWpMcH9L-HZDl0c27XvjZqbLhK59CmJLLGITO9Xr5JLolmQBn5d7GE8Ug9ktOBXuP5vJdM7j4TITnFP4OJTchTd9uv-8jl5fIBqOwgjQlEkVQiTGA/s1600/Masonry11-20160619_161847-levl-curv85mod-post4-hsv2-5-150-150.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitrduIviU6VPcfmkxVpk-S3RWpMcH9L-HZDl0c27XvjZqbLhK59CmJLLGITO9Xr5JLolmQBn5d7GE8Ug9ktOBXuP5vJdM7j4TITnFP4OJTchTd9uv-8jl5fIBqOwgjQlEkVQiTGA/s640/Masonry11-20160619_161847-levl-curv85mod-post4-hsv2-5-150-150.jpg" width="360" /></a></div>
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The San Niccolo hills:<br />
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Thru a portal:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhodypaZhNwdXMa4GkddUygQT65jXonE_A7oMdVfKBd_J7wIYSj-zaMdlRGDaaVqt_Djn6_y5HV4bazuA1k0IMP4S6BRspWTGe01hSkL2o1p6zp5rXat3UpMboONWxycgjk75gNOg/s1600/Portal-hue-curv42-post4-20160618.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhodypaZhNwdXMa4GkddUygQT65jXonE_A7oMdVfKBd_J7wIYSj-zaMdlRGDaaVqt_Djn6_y5HV4bazuA1k0IMP4S6BRspWTGe01hSkL2o1p6zp5rXat3UpMboONWxycgjk75gNOg/s640/Portal-hue-curv42-post4-20160618.jpg" width="360" /></a></div>
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2 views inside a shop:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv8urzM4LV1HvtKqXA4usZbHnJdZWPZ9-PjVZBlnE4WgUCgZdyn9tRgDKhp2jOZgu5xkj4GmLPv4Kvwe4MX3P6tIn_R5EFnGEwXa5ETF15csZo-LlynkxveASCAd-9Zcj3_VDx2w/s1600/20160618_163154-levl-post4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv8urzM4LV1HvtKqXA4usZbHnJdZWPZ9-PjVZBlnE4WgUCgZdyn9tRgDKhp2jOZgu5xkj4GmLPv4Kvwe4MX3P6tIn_R5EFnGEwXa5ETF15csZo-LlynkxveASCAd-9Zcj3_VDx2w/s640/20160618_163154-levl-post4.jpg" width="360" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1UK3e21WfmNX-K0aoecpk0pJd-BiInUXmacvfoj0Iq9ygGAhKp6ciT4qfNlc6dmnFUh4wicmdDY63HDXdm3zaPfap_d37BLlBGzvxS3pjfyzzK7rq6z20zvZ9aCrqzOk8-tmvbQ/s1600/20160618_163206-levl-cart20-75-unsharp20-16-20-curv52mod.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1UK3e21WfmNX-K0aoecpk0pJd-BiInUXmacvfoj0Iq9ygGAhKp6ciT4qfNlc6dmnFUh4wicmdDY63HDXdm3zaPfap_d37BLlBGzvxS3pjfyzzK7rq6z20zvZ9aCrqzOk8-tmvbQ/s640/20160618_163206-levl-cart20-75-unsharp20-16-20-curv52mod.jpg" width="360" /></a></div>
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She's the one!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-5rmW606ywVueyKAeCdsCRAqhxMsc0qDt4JkXYdAZRbvC6lYVNLzQS_o1uaq3DM-pdUKDjdtv9t2ToXrpdlUvjG6bgVVIg_Gq4Af5Tx9TNn-vIvYiXJWTzlqSe_jrmJ_ZaIHgPA/s1600/nm-20160621_170642-levl-curv52mod-post5-synagogue.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="325" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-5rmW606ywVueyKAeCdsCRAqhxMsc0qDt4JkXYdAZRbvC6lYVNLzQS_o1uaq3DM-pdUKDjdtv9t2ToXrpdlUvjG6bgVVIg_Gq4Af5Tx9TNn-vIvYiXJWTzlqSe_jrmJ_ZaIHgPA/s400/nm-20160621_170642-levl-curv52mod-post5-synagogue.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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And this from a short trip to Sienna...<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixaIzKXfZrgPc-ICUw_T0eKRDqM5vgbI4JFcwJTRFEqS10qyCarvz-5ksdGTqMEk-KPnMBlefYeBvkWAvhhMY2Li_VfsQ3eGDevDQLVjyqJK9f73N247h9psSJMTpuVLb5w9kolA/s1600/20160621_105604-huelevl42mod-unsharp20-15-20-hsv1-20-125-90.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixaIzKXfZrgPc-ICUw_T0eKRDqM5vgbI4JFcwJTRFEqS10qyCarvz-5ksdGTqMEk-KPnMBlefYeBvkWAvhhMY2Li_VfsQ3eGDevDQLVjyqJK9f73N247h9psSJMTpuVLb5w9kolA/s640/20160621_105604-huelevl42mod-unsharp20-15-20-hsv1-20-125-90.jpg" width="360" /></a></div>
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09096593722008505361noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30806480.post-16427178803769084352016-07-07T16:44:00.000-04:002016-07-07T16:44:26.437-04:00The Madeleine Amulet: Producing the AmuletThis brief video shows the process of designing, drawing, calligraphing, painting, and illuminating an amulet for my sweet little kabuchki Madeleine.<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09096593722008505361noreply@blogger.com0