Let Ɛ > 0 be an Arbitrary ∈ ℝ

Thank Zeus I'm American

2011-11-17T09:51:00.001-05:00

A few months ago, you made a loan to a student on Vittana. Guess what? We've got great news.

EDUCATION CHANGES EVERYTHING

Hi e,

A few months ago, you made a loan on Vittana to Khoirul Anam, a student in Indonesia who wanted to study Mechanical Engineering.

Guess what?

Khoirul just made his first repayment! As one of his lenders, we wanted you to be the first to know.

In total, this month you've received $1.05 in repayments from 1 student . Every month from now until they're repaid, you'll receive an email from Vittana notifying you of any repayments you've received.

One of the most powerful aspects about Vittana is that students repay the loans you've made, enabling you to multiply the impact of the same money over and over again.

If you have a minute, we'd love if you helped another student. Right now, hundreds of young people need loans on Vittana, in countries from Jordan to Bolivia to Ghana. They want to be chefs, nurses, teachers and much more. Click here to see all Vittana students.

http://www.vittana.org/students

Thank you for being a part of Vittana's mission and education around the world.
Sincerely,

The Vittana Team

P.S. As always, if you have any questions or comments, please don't hesitate to get in touch with us. You can find us at community.vittana.org.

Your Impact
1	Students Funded
$25	Loans Made
$2,816	Lifetime Student Impact

"Only the educated are free." -- Epictetus (55 AD - 135 AD)

You're getting this email because you have received repayments from one or more students to whom you lent on Vittana.
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Copyright 2008-2011 Vittana All rights reserved. Vittana is a 501(c)3 tax-exempt public nonprofit.

When I started reading this email, I thought they'd tell me that the entire $25 had been repaid. Silly me. $1.05 a month is a lot. I should just leave my scholarship-sponsored apartment and go to my government-sponsored school and learn something.

You Know You're a Math Major When...

2011-11-10T22:34:00.000-05:00

...the left column is unintelligible, but the right column is crystal clear.

This reminds me of a joke:

A mathematician and an engineer attend a lecture by a physicist. The topic concerns Kulza-Klein theories involving physical processes that occur inspaces with dimensions of 9, 12 and even higher. The mathematician is sitting, clearly enjoying the lecture, while the engineer is frowning and looking generally confused and puzzled. By the end the engineer has a terrible headache. At the end, the mathematician comments about the wonderful lecture.

The engineer says "How do you understand this stuff?"
Mathematician: "I just visualize the process."
Engineer: "How can you visualize something that occurs in 9-dimensional space?"
Mathematician: "Easy, first visualize it in N-dimensional space, then let N go to 9."

Meshichist Anthem

2011-09-01T21:00:00.001-04:00

Yellow flags are in the house tonight
Everybody just have a good time
Emunah pshuta'll make you lose your mind
Everybody just have a good time

Yellow flags are in the house tonight
Everybody just have a good time
Emunah pshuta'll make you lose your mind
We just wanna see you... wave that
.
.
.
Every day I'm shuckling...

And People Claim that Chabad is not Idolatry.

2011-07-31T14:05:00.000-04:00

Hmph.

This goes through my head every time I ride the subway.

2011-06-06T20:36:00.000-04:00

(source)
Becomes a DIGITAL SUBSCRIBER. Visitors get 20 free articles a month. Subscribers get unlimited access
--New York Times ad of which I could not find a picture online and whose text I may not recall with complete accuracy.

It appeared that there had even been demonstrations to thank Big Brother for raising the chocolate ration to twenty grams a week. And only yesterday, [Winston] reflected, it had been announced that the ration was to be reduced to twenty grams a week.
--George Orwell, 1984 (source)

The Saddest Six-Word Story Ever Told: A Contest

2011-04-30T13:43:00.001-04:00

In the comments, share the saddest story you can tell using six words or fewer. After a few days, I'll tell you a super-sad six-word story my sister-in-law told me over Pesach. We can vote on whose story is the saddest.

Mathematically Proven Fact: Accelerate While Turning

2011-03-17T00:17:00.000-04:00

Today I was chit chatting with my mentor about curvature and other differential-geometry-related shtuff, when she told me a most surprising fact. Unfortunately I can not explain it without relying on abstract mathematical concepts, because I myself can only understand it in those terms. It's really counterintuitive. Imagine you're driving on an exit ramp (or any any curved road for that matter). You want your acceleration vectors to point towards where you want your car to go, which in this case would be centripetally, towards the center of the circle in which you're driving. If you speed up, the acceleration vector gets longer, and pushes you more strongly to the center. If you decelerate, however, your acceleration vectors point backwards, away from where you want to go, so your car starts to skid. Of course it's good to slow down before making a turn. But once you start turning, you want to speed up. I'm talking nonsense? Well, that's what SHE said.

To understand this, do the following experiment:
Take a deep breath.
Pretend you're in a car.
You're driving down the highway.
You approach a curve in the road.
You head straight into the curve.
Oh no! You're going to fast! You gently push the break.
Visualize it.
What do you feel happening?
I feel the tail of car swerving off the road.

Now let's try this again.
Pretend you're in a car.
You're driving down the highway.
You approach a curve in the road.
You head straight into the curve.
As you start curving, you press the accelerator.
Visualize it.
What do you feel happening?
I feel the car griping the road.

These thought experiments are really worthless. It's possible that the reason I connect decelerating with losing control is because I usually slow down only if I'm going too fast to begin with. And I connect accelerating with control because I usually accelerate only if I started off at a slow enough speed. It's a shame she didn't tell me about this when I met with her last Wednesday. That way I could have experimented when I drove to Pittsburgh last Thrusday. All my passengers were screaming that I drive too fast. Wouldn't they love it if I told them that taking curves fast is safer? And then proceeded to demonstrate it experimentally?

But the bottom line is: you should definitely slow down before the curve. And if you are pulled over for speeding through a curve, explain to the cop that if you would have slowed down, you would have skidded off the road. Then pull out a pad and draw the acceleration vectors. The cop should excuse you, because math never lies.

I'm Proud to be an American / At Least Phelps is Free

2011-03-05T13:54:00.000-05:00

Isn't it neat that the John Galliano thing happened within a few days of the Snyder v. Phelps verdict? Where would you rather be? In France where you can be locked up for calling someone a fucking kike, or the U.S.A., where you you can tell grieving parents that god hates them and their recently killed son is in Hell.

I choose the latter. I'm proud of my right to be rude. The First Amendment tells us, "You guys are big boys and girls. As long as nobody is physically hurting anyone else, I trust you to fight it out between yourselves."

But even in America, Land of the Free and Home of the KKK, people on their own are forcing this you-can't-offend-anybody pussiness on others. Recently an anti-abortion group put up an ad drawing attention to the prevalence of abortion among Niggers (Yes! This is America! That word is still legal!)

You don't like it? Big deal. Pro-abortion people are never going to like anti-abortion ads. I don't like HSBC's ads where they misuse numbers and quote irrelevant statistics (There are more vineyards in Turkey than in South Africa. Bank with HSBC). I'm also offended with those gruesome ads trying to get you not to drink soda. But I don't make a fuss. I just try to ignore them. We are adults. Part of life is getting offended. Deal with.

But apparently I'm wrong. Apparently it's an outrage that anyone ever needs to endure offence related to race (or sexual orientation, to a lesser extent). The mother of the girl in picture is "furious," "devastated," and wants an apology. Well lady, when you took your kid to the stock-photo studio, you signed away your rights to the picture. Too bad. Honor your agreement, and live with it. This ad is just pointing out a fact, that lots of Black fetueses are aborted. No, Daily News, they are not comparing abortion to genocide. (Seriously, where did the Daily News see anything about genocide?) They are pointing out a statistical fact in a provocative way. Isn't that standard for advertising?

Together with the right to free speech comes the possibility of getting offended. Live with it.

Dammed Lies and Statistics, or, Context, Context, Context

2011-02-28T23:30:00.001-05:00

"1 MILLION WORKERS. 90 MILLION iPHONES. 17 SUICIDES" screams the front cover of this month's Wired Turns out that there's this huge company called Foxconn that produces some huge chunk of the world's electronics. And 17 of their employees committed suicide. Now we're supposed to feel guilty that our insatiable desire for electronics drove them to death. There's only one problem with this story. Foxconn has one million employees. Seventeen out of a million is actually quite small. American college students are four times more likely to commit suicide. The non-sensational fact is that Foxconn is a better place to work than other Chinese factories (which is not saying much). Sure, some of the things which make Foxconn a better place to work were done in response to the public outcry caused by the suicides. But even before the suicides, it was better than the other factories. So leave Foxconn alone, and let them rake in the cash in peace.

The morals of this story are:
Without context, numbers mean nothing.
People do not know what a million is.

Do You Believe these Statistics?

2011-02-27T17:24:00.000-05:00

People are jamming MetroCard machines, keeping people from buying MetroCards, and then illegally selling MetroCard swipes. According to the New York Post, "In Brooklyn, vandals at the Utica Avenue station that serves the 3 and 4 trains broke machines 198 times in December alone -- second only to Nostrand Avenue, where vandals took out 228 Metrocard machines, according to MTA data requested by The Post."

198/31 > 6. So if they broke machines 198 times in December, they'd need to break more than 6 machines a day. These criminals only jam the slot through which one puts bills. If I recall correctly, at the Schenectady Ave. entrance there are only two machines that accept bills. I don't know how many machines there are on the Utica Ave. side, but I imagine that no more than four accept bills. So to get 198 breakages in a month, they'd need to basically break every single machine every single day. I don't doubt that these criminals are up to that. I just can't believe that the MTA fixes the machines so quickly that they're ready to broken every day--even on weekends and holidays.

The next statistic is even more disturbing. 228 "broken machines" at Nostrand? That's not possible, considering there aren't 228 machines at Nostrand. Presumably they mean 228 breakages, distributed among much fewer machines. Fine. Now which Nostrand are they talking about? If it's the Nostrand Ave 3 station, there are only two bill-accepting machines there. To break two machines 228 times in one month requires breaking each machine (228/31)/2 = 3.67741935 times each day. There is no way the MTA could fix a machine more than three times a day, so how could vandals break the machines that often? Perhaps they meant the Nostrand Ave A/C line? I'm not familiar with that station, but I don't think it's such a huge station that 228 breakages would be plausible. Maybe the 228 breakages weren't all in December? Maybe they meant 228 breakages on the entire Nostrand Ave, which would include the A/C station, the 3 station, and all the 2/5 stations between President and Flatbush Ave-Brooklyn College? 228 breakages between all those stations is plausible. But if that's what they meant, then why the hell can't the Post write that? And if that's what meant, then how can they say that Utica is second to Nostrand? Maybe they should compare the entire Eastern Parkway to Nostrand Avenue?

Unlike the innumeracy I mentioned in the previous posts, this article does not talk about any huge numbers. Everyone has a pretty good grasp of magnitutes like 198 and 228. So then how could the Post publish these numbers without thinking about what these numbers mean? These numbers came from "MTA data requested by the Post." If the MTA coughed up the numbers just for them, can't they report the numbers in context?

PEOPLE!! Numbers are not conceptual art! You can not just play with them to make them mean whatever you want them to mean!

Thousand-Dollar Light Fixtures and Highly Informative Ads

2011-02-25T18:26:00.000-05:00

So apparently the city isn't spending $708 billion on new light fixtures. It's only spending $708 million. WTF? $708 million for 772 schools is approximately $917,100 per school. According to Gothamist they're replacing 564,000 fixtures. That's approximately $1,255 per fixture. WTF? Seriously. Doesn't the city know how to shop around for a good deal?

Once I'm complaining about the city wasting money, what is up with these obnoxious ads on the subway how you shouldn't drink too much. Please. It is not a recent discovery that by drinking too much you might get into a fight or pass out. Humankind has been aware of the dangers of excessive drinking for thousands of years. I don't need NYC to tell me how much to drink. Do they think I'm stupid and I have no common sense? What's next? Ads with a picture of a guy lying in bed and a caption, "7 p.m. is not 7 a.m.--always make sure you've set your alarm clock correctly"? Maybe they should have ads telling us to call our mothers every week? And ads reminding us write thank-you notes when we get gifts? This is not a joke. The federal government already sponsors ads telling people to stay married.

Numeracy Please!

2011-02-24T22:10:00.001-05:00

To the editors of Metro,

In Thursday's paper you write that Bloomberg will devote $708 billion to replacing dangerous light fixtures in 772 city schools. Do you have any idea what $708 billion is? The U.S. Department of Defense's 2011 budget is $721.3 billion. If there are 1,000 rooms in every one of the 772 schools, and each room has 100 light fixtures, $708 billion will leave nearly eight million dollars per light fixture. I'm not surprised that Metro's typists made a mistake. I'm surprised that the rest of Metro's staff was so innumerate as to not notice it.

Still a devoted reader,

e
__________________________

More on numeracy and large numbers:

If you're ready for something gut-wrenching and also funny on numeracy and small numbers, go here and listen to the audio.

Welcome Sarabonne to the 'Hood

2011-02-21T10:44:00.000-05:00

Basement Blogging should be renamed Lincoln-Place Blogging. More of us live on Lincoln Place then live in basements.

Ode to Midwestern Snow

2011-01-11T13:16:00.000-05:00

Here I sit
Watching the snow lazily float
Towards the ground
Outside my Midwestern abode

Like the snowflakes
The cars slowly float to their destinations
respectively, of course
And I am shocked
By the lack of fecal matter

It's nice to visit the Midwest
And have a taste of winter
But not for too long

An Ode to California

2011-01-10T12:38:00.001-05:00

A psalm by e
In California is my residence; I shall not want
I lounge in green parks; to calm beaches thy freeway leadeth me
My soul is refreshed in the weather for which thou hast acquired a great name
Ye, though I walk through Death Valley, I fear no evil, for it is dry heat
Thy celebrities and thy movie industry they entertain me
Prepare for me shade in the presence of the sun; anoint my head with sunscreen
Though in the "winter" thy gutters overflow
Surely sun and clement weather shall follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in California for long days

More Suspension of Disbelief

2011-01-07T00:36:00.000-05:00

I usually ignore the letters Rabbi Wagner sends his alumni, but this one grabbed my attention and didn't let go. (Although I did skim. The rabbi is a tad a verbose.) Enjoy!

Boruch G. was a regular chassidisher Lubavitcher bochur. He went through the system, learning diligently in Yeshiva, and internalizing the teachings and ideals of chassidus. When he came of age, he married a girl of equal caliber, and, predictably, they both resolved to dedicate their lives to shlichus.
Fortunately, just over a year after their marriage, the young couple found a city that would become their “post”. The city, in Middle America, was not especially large, nor did it boast a sizeable Jewish population. There were no known wealthy philanthropists residing there, nor was there much of a foundation on which to build.
But it had its’ Jewish community, who were in urgent need of the services that a Chabad House could provide.
Their work was cut out for them. They had their shlichus.
Before long, however, they encountered an unexpected obstacle. The small Jewish community was already being serviced by a Conservative and a Reconstructionist Temple, as well as a Synagogue that was the remnant of what had once been an Orthodox Synagogue. The leaders of each of these communities were very wary of the newcomer, who they feared, perhaps justifiably, would be an unwelcome competition to them. Their best defense, they decided, would be a concerted and timely offence.
Subsequently, shortly after the G. family settled into their new home, they were shocked to see some very negative publicity about Lubavitch in the local press. While stopping short of open warfare, the article went to great lengths to portray Lubavitch as outdated and queer, their customs as antiquated, and the religious services they offered as medieval. Boruch’s first visits to local community members turned out to be an uphill battle, being met with indifference or open hostility.
Sadly, the G’s realized that the minds of the populace had already been poisoned against them without their even being given a chance and their initial enthusiasm was quickly being replaced by frustration and disillusionment. At every opportunity, there would be negative publicity about Chabad in general and the new shluchim in particular. Any strange or bizarre story involving Lubavitchers managed to find its’ way to the sleepy little city’s newspapers.
To be honest, they even considered throwing in the towel and starting anew somewhere else – they, after all, were plainly not wanted here. But their mashpi’im, and any older shluchim that they consulted with, strongly negated this idea, and deep down they knew as well that this was not the approach that the Rebbe had taught.
So, the G’s held an urgent staff meeting, attended by Boruch, his wife, and their baby daughter, at which they resolved to renew and redouble their efforts, and work tirelessly to undo the damage that had preceded them here, and create a new image of Lubavitch that would command respect, admiration and love. Indeed, no sooner was the meeting adjourned, and the young family went on the offensive to secure their place in the inhospitable neighborhood.
Slowly but surely their efforts bore fruit, and people began to see the G’s for who they were, and to start viewing the negativity with skepticism and suspicion. Gradually, their circle of acquaintances became a widening circle of loyal friends, admirers, and (perhaps most importantly) staunch supporters. To be sure, not everyone was rejoicing in the turnaround. Their original adversaries were chagrined that their plans were thwarted, and they continued to seek every opportunity to undermine the young couple.
But the shluchim refused to be provoked, retaining their positivity and friendliness to all. And this approach was clearly paying off. The distrust and rejection that they had encountered when they had first arrived, had become replaced with deep respect and love. They remembered their early troubles, and thanked Hashem every day for the wondrous metamorphosis.
The turning point came some five and one half years after they had embarked on their shlichus. After much planning and arranging – and a large dosage of help from Above – they managed to organize their first major public event. It was to be a massive public menorah lighting in a high class city park, that would be attended by the mayor, various politicians and dignitaries, and practically all of the ‘who’s who’ of the Jewish community. Their first event on such a scale – or even close to it -, it was expected to catapult them into new heights and status.
The standard legal challenges and red tape were overcome, and the Chabad house for weeks was the scene of nervous energy and frenzied activity in anticipation of the momentous event.
Finally the big day arrived. With a beating heart, Boruch thought about anything that could possibly go wrong, and davened fervently to Hashem that there should be no last minute glitches.
But he needn’t have worried.
As people began to arrive, they realized that it was turning into a success beyond anything they could have hoped for. Everyone, but everyone, of any importance was there, and the mood was celebratory. Boruch spent a few minutes shaking hands with the more important guests. Suddenly he had another pleasant surprise. Not only were the press and radio stations recording the event, but there were two television crews filming relentlessly.
The highlights of the event would be viewed by millions of people on national TV!
Immediately on schedule, the formal part of the program began. Mr. M, one of the most prominent members of the Jewish community, introduced the event. Warmly praising the Rabbi and Rebbetzin, he made subtle references to the early accusations against them, and to how wrong they proved to be. He then introduced the (black) Mayor, who spoke with tremendous enthusiasm about the wonderful work of Chabad, and how crucial the Rabbi was for the community. When Boruch went over to shake his hand and thank him, the Mayor spontaneously reached over, and warmly embraced him.
Boruch was overcome, while vaguely aware of the furious whirring of the cameras. It registered at the edge of his consciousness that this was a picture that would undoubtedly take up the front page of all of the local publications! Then the moment was over, and it was Boruch’s turn to speak, just prior to the actual lighting of the menorah.
He was thinking that things couldn’t get any better, as he confidently strode over to the microphone, while reaching into his pocket for his speech.
But his hand was groping in vain. There was no speech to be found in his pocket.
For a split second, his hand froze in his pocket, when, to his horror, it suddenly dawned on him why there was no speech.
And the least of his problems was the missing speech!
You see, Boruch had recently purchased two brand new suits, in a sale at the local Gap store. Dutifully, he sent them both off to be checked for shatnez (a service not available yet in his own city). They were returned with the verdict: one was OK, while the other was 100% shatnez. So he used the good one, and put the other aside to be returned.
What Boruch realized in that terrifying moment, while reaching unsuccessfully for the elusive speech, was that, in his haste and nervousness that morning, he had inadvertently put on the wrong suit, the non-kosher suit, the shatnez suit!
After being alerted to this fact by the missing speech, it took only another split second for him to verify this fact 100% conclusively. He was, without any doubt, wearing a suit of pure shatnez. Shatnez d’orayso!
Remember, Boruch was standing in a large, open public area. There was nowhere to go, and nowhere to hide. The attention of several hundred people in attendance was all on him. The reporters and television cameras were recording his every move.
They were watching and waiting, what is he going to do now.
What indeed?!
He remembered, instantly, the halacha (brochos 19B, Yoreh Deiah 303), that one who discovers that he is wearing shatnez must remove it, even if he is in a public place (אין עצה ואין חכמה ואין תבונה נגד ה'). He knew that there was no loophole to get around this. It was an issur d’orayso r”l.
On the other hand, how could he even imagine doing such a thing (he was vaguely conscious of the fact that, were he to take such a step, there would most definitely be another choice for the front-page picture, - if the censors would let it by).
Never mind his embarrassment, never mind that he would probably go to jail, never mind that all the work that he did all these years would go down the drain in an instant, what he was contemplating would amount to a chilul Hashem of unprecedented proportions! And, on national television, no less!
[And this was not one of those places where he would score points for disrobing in front of an audience . . ]
He would, with that one move, confirm the worst of the accusations made against him. And much worse that the worst accusations.
Yet, he knew that he is first and foremost a Jew, and his first responsibility is to the Eibishter.
But, on the other hand, isn’t it the Eibishter who wants all of these people to have a positive perspective of Yiddishkeit (so that they would start practicing it)? Isn’t it for the Eibishter’s sake that he put in all the work, that he was so keen on making a good impression? Wasn’t it the name of the Eibishter that was at risk of being desecrated in such a terrible way? Could that be what He wants?
On the other hand, he knew that the Eibishter made it quite clear what He wants, through Torah and Mitzvos. Could he consider disobeying them?
But, then he thought, what right did he have to worry about his own frumkeit at the expense of the religious observance of hundreds of people, at the expense of destroying any chance of any Chabad Rabbi ever establishing himself in this city forever!
He reminded himself of the gemoro (Nozir 23B) “Gedolah aveirah l’shmoh”, an aveirah for a good cause is sometimes virtuous. He further reminded himself of the story with the melamed of the Rebbe, who, when discovered learning on Tisha B’Av, said ‘I’ll go to gehinom anyway, let them punish me for this; - for learning Torah’.
‘I can say the same’, Boruch mused, ‘I’m ready to go to gehinom, to endure any punishment imaginable, as long as I don’t have to be responsible for such a horrible scandal!’
All of these musings took less than a second, while Boruch stood there, at the microphone, facing the cameras, a big smile still on his face, but more torn than he’d ever been in his life.
What to do?!
He felt as if he’s aged a hundred years in that moment!
He could just imagine the headlines, the reactions, if he chose one course of action, and the resulting desecration of all that he held holy.
But to deliberately, knowingly, transgress an issur d’oyraysao r”l?!
What, indeed, does he do?
What should he do?
What would YOU do? And why?
Since I have to run now, I’ll stop here for now, and eagerly await your responses.
L’chaim! May we always have the wisdom and courage to make the right decisions (and when in doubt, to consult with our Rav, mashpia, or chassidisher Rov, and act accordingly, an option that wasn’t available to Boruch under the circumstances). And may the Eibishter show His Wisdom and Courage in making the proper, vital, crucial and necessary decision NOW, to bring us the Geula HoAmitis VeHashleima through Moshiach Tzidkeinu TUMYM!!!

I suppose this is fiction. Had I known all along, I don't think I would have been engaged enough to read it. Suspension of disbelief is tricky, eh?

More on Suspension of Disbelief; Why Inception is a Good Movie

2011-01-04T01:55:00.001-05:00

An observation regarding suspension of disbelief, from the source of all knowledge

Some find it strange that while some audience members took issue with the flimsiness of Superman's disguise, they didn't take issue with the idea of the existence of a superbeing whose only weakness was kryptonite. One arguing from the theory of suspension of disbelief would contend that while Superman's abilities and vulnerabilities are the foundational premises the audience accepted as their part of the initial deal; they did not accept a persistent inability for otherwise normal characters to recognize a close colleague solely because of changes in clothing.

Gary Larson discussed the question with regard to his comic strip, The Far Side; he noted that readers wrote him to complain that a male mosquito referred to his "job" sucking blood when it is in fact the females that drain blood, but that the same readers accepted that the mosquitoes (in "fact") live in houses, wear clothes, and speak English.

We sort of tell the author/producer, "We'll allow you to break these rules, but everything else must be realistic." So science fiction writers are allowed to postulate the existence of faster-than-light travel, but not witches, for example. As I wrote earlier, when the author surprises you and tells you you need to suspend more disbelief, it pulls you out of the story and lessens your engagement. Also, a mid-story request for more suspension of disbelief is poor storytelling technique.

This is why I liked Inception. (I watched it one and a half times on the flight to California.) If you haven't watched Inception, then I fear you won't get the rest of this post. Oh well. ~~Your loss.~~ The loss is mutual.

From the first (real) scene (after the introductory stuff which you cannot understand the first time watching the movie) you know exactly how this movie world is different from the real world: people are able to climb into other people's dreams and fool around. Everything else in the movie makes perfect sense once you accept that premise. If extraction were possible, dreams within dreams would also be possible, the "kick" would work the way it does, the strange aberrations of the laws of physics when the van bounces would be unavoidable, the projections would act the way they do, and all that. It's really a well-thought-out movie.

But wait! Not only is Inception as good as realistic fiction, it's better! In fiction, there's this idea that if you really, really want something, the universe conspires to make it happen. For example, if a snowstorm keeps your mother-in-law from getting the birthday card you mailed her, the literary critics will blame it on your dislike of your mother-in-law. Or if you really are "misyached" with the person who locked a safe, you'll be able to correctly guess the code. That's non-realistic and stretches my suspension of disbelief. But in Inception it's totally legitimate that Cobbs' issues with his wife mess up his work and that they expect Fisher to remember a code that's never been told to him. They're in the dream world, so of course the "universe" brings about whatever the subject's and the dreamer's subconscious wants.

So I was able to get really involved in Inception. When they get on the plane, my heart was pounding. When they landed on the first level (in the pouring rain) I almost died from nervousness. And when Cobbs finally sees his kids, my eyes were wet. It was just so right.

On a side note, I'd be very appreciative if anybody could shed light on Arthur's role. Is he really just a dumbass like Eames (the forger dude) makes him out to be, or is there some sechel behind his sharp suits and formal, know-it-all talk?

The Life of a Kofer

2011-01-02T22:49:00.000-05:00

When going through my regular routine, I have these mental "automatic reminders." For example, every time I walk out of my apartment, there's a ding in my mind, and I ask myself if I have my keys, metrocard, CCNY ID, phone, and wallet. Every time I walk into a public bathroom, a ding goes off, and I check that there are urinals, to reassure myself that I'm in the men's room. If you think about it, you can probably come up with some automatic reminders that you have in your mind.

So Friday night I went with my brother-in-law to shul. We arrived a few minutes before kabbalas shabbos, so there really was no reason for me to daven mincha, but my brother-in-law was davening mincha, and there was nothing else to do, so I turned to page 96 and started saying Ashrei. In middle of Ashrei, a ding went off. It was the did-you-have-kavannah-for-"posech es yadech"? ding. I chuckled inside and ignored it.

Don't Stretch My Suspension of Disbelief

2010-12-31T01:22:00.000-05:00

Nearly every time I saved a draft of a blog post, it never got posted. So I will try to knock off this entire post tonight, even though I keep telling myself that I should finish off tomorrow. If this post doesn't properly get my point across, n'nu.

I recently watched the movie Pi and was sorely unimpressed. Here's the story in brief: Max Cohen is a crazy mathematician who is searching for patterns in numbers, specifically the stock market and the decimal expansion of (i.e. "the digits of") pi. Max's teacher pressures him to give up his search, comparing him to Icarus (the guy from Greek mythology who flew too near the sun). Max meets this Jew who does mivtzoim like a Lubavticher but is actually a member of some occult kabbalistic group which is looking for the 216-digit number which will tell them the 216-letter name of god. Just to add to the fun, there's a Wall-Street firm trying to use Max's research to make money. His computer is doing some calculations for him (we never find out what) and outputs some outrageously improbable stock predictions followed by a 216-digit number and then dies. Max agrees to share his research with the Wall-Street people in exchange for a new computer chip. He does the calculations again, get the same number, and the computer dies again. The Wall-Street people try to get the information from him at gunpoint, but he is whisked away by the occult pseudo-Lubavitcher, who brings him to the synagogue, where the leader of the kabbalistic group tries to force the 216-digit number out of him. He refuses. He lives miserably ever after.

I understand that when you watch a movie, you agree to "believe" that certain things are possible, even though they're not. So I have no problem that the janitor in Max's building just happened to see Max searching for a computer print-out in the trash and the Wall-Street lady just happened to bump into the janitor to find out about it. It's a movie. The improbable happens in movies.

I also have no problem that the Lubavitcher-numerologist translates "etz hachaim" as "tree of knowledge." That gematria-wise a 216-letter word does not correspond to a 216-digit number is also OK. I'm pretty pissed they thought that members of occult kabbalistic groups try to put on tefillin with wholly uninterested strangers like Lubavitchers do. But I understand that it's a movie. People don't get everything right.

And that the girl next door has a crush on Max even though in real life no girl would get near this guy? Again, it's a movie. The producers needed to throw in some romance to make it interesting.

But there are some inaccuracies that touch the essence of the movie that you cannot overlook. And that's why this movie sucks.

Max is looking for meaningful patters in the decimal expansion of pi. Well guess what, buddy, there really shouldn't be any pattern there. Remember that it's an accident of history that we use a base-ten numbering system. We very well could have had a base-sixteen or base-twenty numbering system in which pi's digits would be completely different.

Mathematicians definitely spend a lot of time searching for patterns in stocks. But they look at the percentages, not at the digits. The digits are completely meaningless. Max resembles an eccentric mathematician (he's anti-social, lightning quick with arithmatic, and obsessive) but he doesn't think like a mathematician. He thinks like a regular schizophrenic.

Max's computer is supposed to compute something (we're never told what) but instead keeps on crashing. We're supposed to understand that it crashes because he was computing something that was supposed to remain mysterious. Computers don't crash when you make them compute something mysterious. That's just not how computers work.

And then the computer spits out The Number, which Max didn't ask for. That's not how computers work. If you ask it to crunch number about stocks, it will spit out stock-related numbers. It won't spit out the number that holds the secrets of the universe.

Oh yeah. We're never told what Max is searching for. What kind of pattern is he looking for in pi and in the stocks? What kind of calculations is his computer doing? What is the 216-digit number supposed to stand for (other than "a string of digits that Wall-Street people and occult kabbalists want to study")? I feel like the meat of the movie is missing.

The response to all this would be something to effect of: the movie is about man's search for hidden knowledge, about the desire to manipulate the world, and about the need to let things remain mysterious.

To paraphrase Rabbi Chanina the Bible-teacher, go outside and tell that to your literature professor. That's hogwash. A good work of fiction creates a fictional world which resembles the real world in important ways to illustrate true ideas about the real world. For example, Brave New World creates a fictional world where people have flying cars, and everybody has what they need. But that fictional world resembles the real world in that people deal with pain, pleasure, religion, and boredom the same way they do in our world. Therefore it's a good book. Another example is Logicomix (which happens to be a stupid book, but that's besides the point). Logicomix is chock-full of historical inaccuracies, but it's about a real person's (Bertrand Russel's) struggle with a real issue (Russel's paradox) with real implications (the foundations of set theory, logic, and mathematics). So it can tell us something useful about the real world. But Pi creates this fictional world in which math is not at all like real math. So what does it teach us?

WHY? WHY? WHY? Whose idea was this?

2010-12-16T12:53:00.001-05:00

CCNY is not rich. Despite student protests, they raised the tuition recently. We haven't had working elevators in the science building for around a year. There definitely isn't money to throw around. So why are they wasting $4,400 on a lottery? Do they really have no better use for the money?

Je Me Souviens

2010-11-28T23:00:00.000-05:00

I'm in Quebec, and I've made some observations about the French language.

In America, "dead-end" calls to mind a sad little street that literally dies on you. "Cul-de-sac" calls to mind a nice suburban, residential street which ends with a neat curve, perhaps with some flowers near the curb and plenty of room for a comfortable u-turn. When the bus pulled into its first stop in Montreal, it turned onto a street with a sign saying "cul-de-sac." To my disappointment it was just a plain dead end.

In America the word "overt" is always used to mean "figuratively open," and is often used in a high-falutin' way. In Quebec, stores have signs saying "ouvert" to let people know that they're open for business.

It is a bit amusing to hear Americans speaking French with an unabashedly American accent, as in the sentence "Don't park there! It's an arret d'autobus."

On a practical note, if you ever gain control over a province, don't force people to speak your language. It's not very nice.

At Home with the Heisenbergs

2010-11-24T13:35:00.001-05:00

Elisabeth Heisenberg: I can't find my car keys.
Werner Heisenberg: You probably know too much about their momentum.
source

I Miss My Blog

2010-11-01T17:15:00.000-04:00

It was nice to be able to write neat little posts, well-written enough that I could be proud of them, poorly written enough that they didn't require much effort. Then y'all would discuss them, and I would feel like my thoughts are worth discussing. Then I would discuss your thoughts on your blogs, and make you think that your thoughts are worth discussing. Then, in the wee hours of the morning, our discussions would degenerate into silliness and we'd go to sleep. But, in the words of Eminem, "those days are gone / they're just memories."

Never Trust an Activist

2010-09-14T19:13:00.003-04:00

Activists get so excited about their cause, that they'll say anything that makes their cause sound more important.
Consider this story on CHI:

Shluchim all over the United States received an unmarked package in recent weeks containing missionary Hebrew New Testaments along with other missionary materials.

The packages arrived in non-descript packaging printed with “Wishing you a Shana Tova – a gift from an anonymous friend.”

“These recent events demonstrate that the missionary threat to the Jewish community is more serious than ever” wrote Rabbi Zalman Kravitz of Jews for Judaism, in an email responding to Shluchim who have received these packages.

“I got it, recognized it right away and I threw it into the garbage” said a Shliach.

Nonsense. If the missionaries think that sending New Testaments to the shluchim was a wise way to spend their money, they obviously don't understand the people they are targeting. We should be relieved and amused. Chillax, Rabbi Kravitz.

CH...

2010-08-11T22:42:00.000-04:00

From CrownHeights.info:

According to a source in the committee said that Rabbi Chabib circumvented the election committee by sending an email expressing his desire to run in the upcoming elections directly to Rabbi Avrohom Rosenberg, the Dayan on the case. The source also said that Rabbi Chabib acted inappropriately by not seeking the endorsement of either current Rabonim or any other Rov in the neighborhood.

Translation: Rabbi Chabib is being sneaky by not picking a side. No fair! How will we know if you're a good guy or a bad guy if you don't pick a side?

Yearly Riddle

2010-06-24T12:31:00.001-04:00

Beginning in July and continuing indefinitely, what will e, TRS, le7, Cheerio, Sebastion, and Arguing with Myself all have in common?

Mathematicians

2010-04-28T19:05:00.001-04:00

Q: What is the definition of an extroverted mathematician?
A: A mathematician who looks at your shoes when he talks.

[quasi source]

I Have Learned to Love Perdue Chickens, but I Have Not Learned to Love Snags

2010-04-25T16:56:00.001-04:00

This Friday night I ate at my neighbor's house (the same neighbor whom I met because he was looking for a Shabbos goy). At the table there were the host and hostess, yours truly, and a divorced guy. It was really my first close-up encounter with snags so I was interested in re-evaluating the stereotypes I hold about them and was looking forward to hearing what stereotypes they hold about "us." There was some stereotype busting, but I think there was more stereotype reinforcing.

The host, who's been married around a year, talked an awful lot about girls he had dated. I know that he once went to Chicago to date a girl. I know that his best friend married a girl whom he had dated. I know he had been pressured to date the divorced guy's ex-sister-in-law. Don't you think that in Chabad it would be really bad form to talk about a girl you didn't date in front of the girl's ex-brother-in-law and your wife? Maybe it's true that in the snag world guys date bajillions of girls and dating is no big deal. Oh yeah, and the guest is looking to marry a divorced "girl." These girls who are getting married for the first time aren't for him...

The host and the guest spoke a lot about the beautiful places they had visited and the various hotels that had stayed in. They also spoke a lot about the rich, important businesspeople of the snag world, how much property they own, how much they lost on Madoff, etc. The conversation basically flipped between discussing Lubavitch and discussing "gorgeous" vacation spots/money/houses. The host and the divorced guy both knew an awful lot about the latter's ex-in-laws and their finances. They have a six-bedroom house in Sha'arei Chesed, Jerusalem and the ex-father-in-law has over $120 million. They spent $250,000 on the divorce. The guest only spent $100,000. I also know how much rent the dude is currently paying. Ach! Misnagdim ligen nur in gelt!

When Rubashkin came up, they were surprised to hear me talk about "Rubashkins" in general. They didn't realize that most Lubavitchers know at least a few members of the Rubashkin clan. But both the host and the divorced dude knew the new guy who took over the plant. So Agri went from being one of "our" businesses to one of "their" businesses.

They both were under the impression that there was a religious reason that Lubavitcher guys don't tuck in their shirts. The other guest started telling me this nonsense about how you need to have your shirt untucked for tzitzis-related reasons. I had a bit of a hard time convincing them otherwise.

The host was shocked to hear that my mother and my grandfather had grown up on shlichus. He didn't know that shlichus existed back then.

The host thought that in Lubavitch it's normal for guys to learn just Likkutei Sichos and not Gemara--after all 770 has more copies of Likkutei Sichos than Gemara. He was also under the impression that 770 is the main Lubavitch Yeshiva.

The host asked me why it is that all Lubavitchers still think the Rebbe is ~~god~~ super cool. Don't they realize that, to quote the host, "he's looking at the onions from the bottom?" Why aren't there Lubavitchers who keep the Lubavitch minhagim, wear the Lubavitch clothes, sing the Lubavitch songs, but just dump this Rebbe stuff? After all, his father's Bobov affiliation pretty much consists of that stuff. If only I could have explained to him how many people there are who eat on Yom Kippur but still think the Rebbe is god...

The guest wondered how Lubavitchers are able to come to a place where they know nothing and nobody and are able to take the place over. I tried to explain the supreme I'm-saving-the-world-so-get-outta-my-way arrogance Lubavitchers have.

At the end of the meal, the host tried saying that the Rebbe did what he did because he wanted power and kavod. This I didn't let him get away with.

All in all, a fun time was had by all, as they examined the exotic creatures living in their neighborhood.

Is This a Super-Good Deal, or What?

2010-03-10T11:16:00.002-05:00

I was looking to buy a suitcase, and I stumbled upon this item on ebay. A five-piece set for $45 + $20 shipping. First I thought, "Wow! That's way to good to be true." So emailed the seller. He said he is in fact selling five pieces for $45. Now I'm thinking, "Well, if it's true, maybe it's not that good a deal." What do you think? Should I jump on this, or will I be buying something I don't need. I only need one small suitcase. But this guy is selling five for the price of one! What do you think?

Why I Need a Manager

2010-03-06T14:17:00.003-05:00

Subject: Math Tutor
From: CM
To: e@ccny.cuny.edu
Hi,

Saw your posters advertising math help. I am in Math 201, but am having trouble with algebra. Was hoping you are available to sit down with me and work on some problems.
Thank you,

CM

From: e
To: CM
Yikes! Math 201 can be very difficult if you algebra isn't up to speed.

For me, the most convenient time to meet would be Tuesday, Wednesday, or Thursday before 11 a.m. Does that work for you?

From: CM
To: e
Unfortunately, I have Chemistry lectures and lab M, Tu, W, F mornings. Thursdays I have work.

If we can not find a time that work for both of us, perhaps you can recommend someone?

Thanks!

CM

From: e
To: CM
I don't know any other math tutors. How about I call you later and we
discuss the options over the phone?

From: CM
To: e
My number is below, I'm done with class for the day.

------------
I called CM, and we discussed scheduling options. After much back and forth, we decided that Friday afternoons would be the best time to meet. Throughout our conversations, both via email and over the phone, one issue was conspicuously absent: he never once asked me how much I would charge or mentioned anything about money. "Aha!" I thought to myself, "I can fleece this sucker. After meeting him once, he'll be so enthralled with my superior tutelage that when it comes time to say goodbye and he asks me my rates, I'll tell him it's $45 an hour, and he'll agree to it. Or maybe he'll bargain me down to $40. But I certainly won't lose him entirely if I'm just a wee bit greedy." Thus I had blithely thought on Tuesday afternoon.

We were supposed to meet Friday at 2:00 p.m. At 1:05 I got a text, "Hi, it's CM. Finished class early, I'm in the engineering library." I texted back, "All right. I'm coming over." As I hopped across the campus, I told myself, "Well, $45 is a bit greedy, but I can definitely ask for forty. Don't chicken out e, ask for forty!"

We met. We discussed limits and derivatives. Then we moved on to a simple limit problem. I knew how to evaluate the limit using some shortcuts, but I could not for the life of me remember how to do it without the shortcuts. My student didn't either. Time was up and he got up to leave. "How much did you say it would be per hour?" he asked, "$25?"
"Aurgh!" I thought, "Did I really say $25? Am I mishearing? Did he maybe get mixed up with that other tutoring sign hanging all over campus advertising $20 an hour? Well anyways, I can't ask for $45 when he's expecting $25 and I couldn't even evaluate the limit!"
"$35," I manage to choke out.

Aurgh. From now until the end of the semester I'll be making ten dollars a week less than I could have made if I only I would have had a bit more confidence. When I was just starting to get involved in tutoring, a friend of mine (who has since graduated from Brooklyn College with a degree in applied mathematics) told me that he too dabbled in tutoring. "It's not hard," he said, "The only reason it didn't work out for me was because I didn't handle the business aspect well." Aurgh. The business aspect.

Oh yeah. Ten minutes after CM left, I remembered how to evaluate the limit.

Lonely Man of Math

2010-03-05T12:55:00.003-05:00

[source]
(Why am I publishing this comic, rather than the many other fine specimens available at xkcd.com? Because this one is narrow enough for blogger to display normally.)

Banana History is More Interesting Than You Thought

2010-03-04T14:02:00.001-05:00

Did you know that bananas were first cultivated ten thousand years ago? Did you know that bananas cannot survive without active human help? Did you know that before the 1950's a different breed of bananas was common--but that breed is now extinct? Did you know that our current breed of bananas may become extinct in the near future? Read more at Damn Interesting.

Incidentally, this totally destroys this silly creationist argument.

Where are the Haredim Headed?

2010-02-22T22:50:00.003-05:00

Airplane Mechitzahs, ritual laptop smashings, unabashed and self-righteous blackmail. How much longer can this trend last? Is there a point when Haredism will regain its balance, or will they continue getting crazier? What will the Haredim of our children's generation look like?

Join the Fray!

2010-02-20T19:37:00.002-05:00

A travesty has been perpetrated against two venerable bloggers. We are not taking it sitting down. Join the fray!

The Folks in Charge are out of it, and the Innocent Sheep Suffer

2010-02-08T19:08:00.004-05:00

I'm supposed to prepare my students to take the regents in June. That means that I need to start covering ground much quicker. So last week I assigned almost the entire chapter one for homework. I just finished grading it. Aurgh!!! 93 flipping annoying problems. The results were abysmal: 64%, 60%, 48%. This was supposed to be a review of what they learned in past. But it's hardly surprising that they did so poorly. I didn't spend any time time in class going over it.

Now here's my dilemma. Should I spend time tomorrow discussing chapter one? But we need to go full steam ahead to meet the deadline. And if I spend tomorrow doing chapter one, I won't be able to assign stuff from chapter two for homework.

Should I just move on to chapter two? How can I teach more when they have shaky foundations? What if I review the stuff in chapter one that's relevant to the immediate future and deal with the other stuff later. But that will make my lesson plan even more disordered than it is already. I feel guilty not covering the material in order. A good teacher should have a clear lesson plan. If my lesson plan is so jumbled, that means I'm...

Now we've moved from practical questions like what to teach to value judgments like "good teacher," "responsible teacher," and ch"v the opposites. Which brings us to everyone's favorite value judgment: blame.

So who's to blame for my students imperfect education? Not them. They're kids. They don't take the homework as seriously as I want them to, but they do do it and hand it in on time. And of course they make mistakes--they had 93 flipping problems and they hadn't been taught this stuff since god-knows-when.

Am I to blame? I never had a chance to teach them this stuff. I think that if I explained to them how to do the problems they would do well.

Well why am I not given the opportunity to teach? Because I was hired in November instead of in August. Because I was hired to teach only once a week. Because nobody had told me what I was expected to teach or what they had already learned.

They still haven't arranged for me to start teaching twice a week (as if that would solve they're problems. In order for these kids to be ready by June, they'd need me to teach them five times a week!)

And here's what really pisses me off: kids all over learn math as a series a steps to follow in order to solve a problem. They never understand what the problem represents. The kids work way too hard remembering which steps belong to which problems instead of opening their minds. Or they focus on which types of problems they'll be tested on and which types they won't. Or they focus on which format their answers must be written in. This is wrong! I beg you, o powers that be, let me teach them algebra and trigonometry, not how to pass some stupid test!!

I shouldn't feel bad that the kids didn't do well on the homework or that the average grade on the exam I gave them was 70%. That's not my fault. I'm giving the kids the best education possible under the circumstances.

But I see the results of the authorities' irresponsibility--not them. So how can I not feel responsible?

So here's my moral dilemma. What do I teach tomorrow? Do I go over chapter one until the understand it, or do I rush onto chapter two? Was I hired to teach math, or was I hired to prepare kids for the damn Regents?

Where, Oh Where, have all the Fundies Gone, Oh Where, Oh Where can They Be?

2010-02-03T23:44:00.010-05:00

Back in my day, I would have given the author of this piece such a tongue lashing... (Today I only give such tongue lashings when under the influence and discussing math.)

Even though, he may tarry / Even so, I wait for him

2010-01-29T12:20:00.003-05:00

Waiting for the Messiah can make you feel like this.

Information=Danger

2010-01-27T16:59:00.002-05:00

(A conversation which took place in Kharkov, Ukraine, between me and a bochur whose parents were from Russia)

D: In the USSR, it was illegal for regular people to have a copy machine or microfilm. The government didn't want people to be able spread information easily or quickly.

e: Wow. That's crazy. I'm proud to be an American. At least I know the press is free.

D: The Soviet government was built on lies. If people had access to non-government-sanctioned information, the government would fall apart.

e: That reminds me of how the Protestant Revolution started after the invention of the printing press, when people could get their own Bibles.

D: The people in charge always want to limit the information available to the masses.

e: But in our glorious republic of freedom, the government is not afraid of truth. They have nothing to hide. (This was during the Bush-era, when the Republicans controlled Congress, and it was cool to be pro-government.) And if they did have something to hide, we'd find out about it right away.

All: God bless America!

Well, apprantly Hereidism is based on falsehood too, because the Hareidi top-honchos are scared of information. That's right. We're not discussing pornography, evolution, Bible criticism, or any of that evil stuff. We're discussing information about what's happening in the Hareidi world. They want you to learn the news only from "respectable" newspapers like Hamodia or Yated. People should hear the news from blogs? or maybe get new ideas from anonymous commenters? People who the rabbis can't track down or censor? God forbid!!

It runs in the family

2010-01-25T00:54:00.002-05:00

I was at my sister's wedding last Monday. (It was super awesome, but don't ask for details now. It's after my bedtime.) We were lining up to take a picture of the kallah and her siblings. "What order should we be in?" someone asked. Size order, age order and gender segregation were all quickly rejected by the assembled. "How about alphabetical order?" I* suggested. We lined up in alphabetical order (e, Me, Mi, Ne, Ye, Yo) and were duly depicted. My father noted that we followed the English alphabet, but we went from right to left (e on the far right, Yo on the far left). N'nu. We goofed. Perhaps the photographer can flip the image around.

* I'm not a 100% sure it was I who suggested alphabetical order. If anyone who was there is reading this (j.k., you listening?) and thinks I'm misremembering, please speak up.

Aaron's Arduous Amorous Adventures

2010-01-22T01:19:00.003-05:00

Aaron (Moses' brother): Hey, Reuven! I heard that things aren't so hot between you and Shimon. Well, Shimon wants to make up.

Reuven: Yeah, yeah, we all know your trick, Aaron. Don't BS me.

A: No, I'm telling the truth this time. He really wants to make up.

R: What about the hundred dollars he owes me? Or when his cow gored my cow? Huh?

A: Well, he told me--

R: Don't bother with the explanations, Aaron. The truth is that I just don't value Shimon's friendship. He has lots of character traits which I don't appreciate. He watches too much TV. He eats greasy food. He asks his mother for advice when he should be making his own decisions. And his pants and shirts always clash.

A: Shimon's less-than-desirable character traits should not be the only criterion with which you decide how much to value his friendship.

R: Oh yeah? Then what criteria would you recommend, Mister I-love-peace-and-pursue-it?

A: Um, well. Friendship is about... uh... it's about getting to. Uh, How about we ask the blog community for help on this one?

Based on what do you decide whom you want to be your friend?

lol

2010-01-14T14:40:00.000-05:00

Aurgh! This eats me up! "Lol" used to mean "laughing out loud." Today it is a punctuation mark.

Allow me to explain. An exclamation mark doesn't tell the readers anything new. It just tells them how the writer feels about what he or she wrote. For example:
"I'm going home" tells us where the author is going. "I'm going home!" tells us the exact same fact, but also tells us that the author is excited about this trip.

"Your mother-in-law called you an ugly bitch" tells us what your mother-in-law said about you. "Your mother-in-law called you an ugly bitch?" tells us the same fact and also tells us that the author is feeling surprised and incredulous.

Now we turn our attention to the new punctuation mark: "lol."

Below is an actual Facebook conversation:

Friend's status: everytime (sic.) I go to a cemetery I think "those lucky sons of bitches!"

Sympathetic friend comments: One day (unfortunately) you and I will be there as well. In the meantime try to enjoy your luck that you are of the "lucky" carbon to be alive. Afterwards you'll have eternity to be those "lucky sons of bitches."
*sigh* if only I can heed my own advice and preachings lol.

Suicidal-sounding status updater: I am enjoying it. Very much. Don't you see? lol

Please. Neither of these people was laughing out loud. "Lol," like the exclamation and question marks, tells us how the author feels about what he or she is writing. "Lol" means "Don't take what I'm writing too seriously. I don't really mean it. I don't know what I mean, so let's just pretend that I'm joking. After all jokes don't need to make sense lol"

How to Bake Sweet Potatoes

2010-01-11T23:00:00.000-05:00

Right after I moved to my current residence, my mother suggested that I microwave or bake sweet potatoes for a snack. They weren't very exciting. They were kind of dry and hard work to finish. Usually I'd buy two sweet potatoes at a time and bake one of them right away. The other would often end its life wilting on the window sill.

But then my eyes were opened.

I went to my grandfather's house, and there I saw how to bake a sweet potato. Here's the recipe I have learned from my grandather's wife:
Slice the sweet potato in half. (I usually slice them into thirds, because I'm impatient.)
Put the sweet potatoes in a pan sliced-side down.
Here's the crucial part: Put a little oil in the pan
Bake until very soft.
Enjoy!

I bake them on 500° because I want them to bake quickly. Perhaps a lower temperature would be better. I know not.

פאָנפערן

2010-01-10T21:04:00.002-05:00

If you asked me to define the word "funfer," I would probably start funfering.

Salute the Lady with Clear Vision

2009-12-31T21:46:00.003-05:00

Mushkie is a soldier in the Rebbe's Army. She's both scrupulous and meta-scrupulous. All females are encouraged to go to her blog and give her a virtual pat on the back

I'm Moving out of the Ghetto!

2009-12-30T00:21:00.002-05:00

Some of you knew already. Some of you didn't. But now all of you will know. I found a new residence near Brooklyn College. I will begin paying rent there February first, exactly 13 months after moving into my current residence in the Heights.

Some FAQS:

Why are you moving out?

I want to get out of the ghetto.

But aren't you moving into another ghetto?

Yeah, but it's a ghetto where not everyone knows my name, history, and which city my grandfather urinated in. (It was Nevel.)

Why'd you choose this location?

It was cheap.

How much less than your current abode?

Negative 100 dollars a month.

Huh?

Listen, if you don't understand negative numbers, I'd be thrilled to tutor you for a nominal fee.

Are you transferring to Brooklyn College?

I dunno. It'll be painful to pass the Brooklyn College campus every day while walking to the subway station for an hour-long ride. But I like City College. I dunno.

We'll miss you in Crown Heights!

The feelings are mutual. I shall come by to visit.

In unrelated news, here's a comic:

source

Thanks Mottel for telling me about this site

Metametametametametametaism--AURGH!!! Gödel, Escher, Bach!

2009-12-28T22:54:00.005-05:00

(Dowy: you once said that you don't like when posts have too many links. Don't feel the need to click on all the links. The links are just examples but don't really make a difference.)

There are songs. And there are songs which sing about other songs.

In the prayerbook, there are ostensibly praises to God. Many of those praises consist of saying, "Let's praise God."

Chassidus talks about all sorts of cool stuff. One of the cool things that chassidus talks about is chasidus.

On Facebook you can talk about your life. Part of your life is Facebook. So part of Facebook is discussing Facebook.

Of course, there are also youtube videos about youtube.

As this is a blog, let's discuss blogs that blog about blogging.

There are those bloggers who write things like, "There I was thinking what to blog about, and I thought that maybe I should blog about what I blogged about yesterday. Or maybe I'll blog about the impact of the blogosphere in politics. Oops! My mom's calling me. Gtg. But I'll be back tomorrow, to blog some more."

Then you have comments about comments.

"Oh what a funny comment that was! You always leave funny comments!"

"Well, why don't you comment on my blog?"

"I would, if you'd follow my blog."

(Now the blogger who's hosting this scintillating conversation chimes in.)

"Wow! Look how many comments this post has garnered!'

"wats garnered/"

"http://lmgtfy.com/?q=garnered"

"Sheesh. learn to spell. that;s 'What's,' not 'wats.'"

"Watch your own typos. According to Strunk and White, a semi-colon is not an apostrophe."

All these comments are just about comments.

The self-referential nature of comments and blogs leads to an interesting question: what is the point of a thing that only discusses itself? However, my point now is not to answer that question. I shall move on to the next exhibit: blogging about blogging about blogging.

I once blogged about blogging about blogging.

Now I'm blogging about blogging about blogging.

Now I'm blogging about blogging about blogging about blogging.

Now I'm blogging about blogging about blogging about blogging about blogging.

Now I'm blogging about blogging about blogging about blogging about blogging about blogging.

Now I'm blogging about blogging about blogging blogging about about blogging about blogging about blogging.

Aurgh! When is this going to stop? (Fyi, that previous sentence was blogging about blogging about blogging about blogging about blogging about blogging about blogging.)

Hey! Guess what? That previous sentence was blogging about blogging about blogging about blogging about blogging about blogging about blogging about blogging.)

The following sentence is true.

The previous sentence is false.

You can't resolve this kind of stuff. You just gotta pull the plug, or else your brain will keep trying to execute an endless loop.

source

You may also be interested in "What the Tortoise said to Achilles."

The real place to get information about this type of stuff is Gödel, Escher, Bach, by Douglas Hofstadter. He's the guy who invented Hofstadter's rule: "It always takes longer than you expect, even when you take into account Hofstadter's Law."

Added 1/13/10:
This comic is much more relevant. I know half of it is cut off. I can't be bothered to play with it, considering that the fifteen minutes of this post's fame are long gone. If you want to see the entire comic, click here.

From the Man who Redefined what it Means to be Chasidish...

2009-12-27T21:30:00.007-05:00

Succeeding Miserably

from the man who redefined what it means to be chasidish
(with only the most moderate of editing by your truly)

The obedient boy
A reluctant non-rebel
Freedom is his daydream
A glorious future awaits him

If he can do what's right

He lacks the courage to follow his mind
Like a bee flies about the window
Because he is afraid of darkness
Uncertainty and difficulties
Hopes that time will change things
The pieces will fall in place

They never do

Resigns his destiny to fate
Locks himself with invisible chains
Does everything he loathes
Beats and chokes his soul
Until it flies away and dies
Imprisons his intellect
Adjusts his scruples to match his appearance
And fakes the rest

He has settled down, his peers think

Alone, he walks among the crowd
Keeping his opinions to himself
Shying away from controversy

Biting his tongue

Raises children to worship bullshit
Lives a dull and meaningful life,
For purposes not worth a damn
A happy life, he thought

Old, broken, and ill
Lies on his deathbed
Feels like shit
Like Ivan Ilyich
Hasn't accomplished anything
Nothing to be proud of
Worked all his life to become The Unknown Citizen
And succeeded miserably
Oh! He won't go gentle into that good night

Or will he?

What's done is done
If he knew back then
How life would end
Perhaps he would have packed up,
And left

Priorities

2009-12-24T16:55:00.002-05:00

Yesterday, I was walking to my domicile from the Presdient Street 2 station. As I was walking between New York and Brooklyn, I noticed that the sidewalk had been shoveled in front of every single house on my side of the street, with one exception: the vacant house on the block. The snow had been shoveled off the porch and the part of the front walk nearer the house. But the rest of the walk and the sidewalk in front of the house was covered in ice.

Who spent his or her time shoveling the porch, but couldn't be bothered to shovel the sidewalk?

Near Disaster Nearly Averted

2009-12-16T15:35:00.002-05:00

A mere twenty minutes ago was the linear algebra final. In brief, he's what linear algebra entails: you do simple things like add, subtract, and multiply. But you gotta deal with a bunch of numbers at once (usually nine [because they like to use three by three matrices]). This drives me crazy. When you're dealing with all these numbers, you're bound to make a silly mistake somewhere. And good luck catching your mistake.

So there I was, trying to evaluate simple determinant, and for some reason I thought that 30*10 was equal to 40. Aurgh!!! Nothing was making any sense. I was stuck trying to solve this quadratic equation that had no solutions. And if I couldn't solve this equation, then I'd need to get the next two problems wrong, because they were based on this equation. So after many long torturous minutes of wasting precious exam time trying to solve this insoluble equation, I went of the teacher and asked him what to do. Said the wise teacher, "You've got the hard part right. Just look more carefully." (He said "got" rather than "gotten" because he's German and speaks British English.)

So I sat down and sweated some more, until the light bulb went off in my head, and I said, "Oh!!! 10*30 is not 40! It's 400!"

I resumed my scribbling but things still weren't making sense. I looked and looked for other simple mistakes, but none were to be found. The teacher saw my frantic squirming and came over to me. "You look like you're in a rut. Continue with the other problems, and get back to this one later."

"I finished all the other ones." said I, "I can't figure out what I'm doing wrong. I already realized that 10*30 is 400 and not 40, but the quadratic still makes no sense."

"Are you listening to what you're saying?"

The light bulb went on again! 10*30 is not 40. Nor is it 400. It's 300!

The quadratic equation suddenly became simple, and everything worked out nicely. I know I got that problem (and the ones related to it) right, but I'm still not so sure about the others. Who knows what other silly mistakes I made without realizing it? If I was nervous enough not to know that 10*30 = 300, then I could have made all sorts of silly mistakes. So I'm sitting tight, waiting for him to post the final grades.

Yud-Tes Kislevs of My Youth

2009-12-06T12:26:00.002-05:00

were a 48-hour haze of farbrenging, learning chassidus, doing mivtzoim in the cold, and late-afternoon naps. And this year? We kicked off Yud-Tes Kislev with a nice hullyenish at the TRS-LE7 residence. 'Twas quite the fun.

Tonight there's another hullyenish, but we'll talk about that later.

Thinking is so 80's

2009-12-03T19:34:00.003-05:00

So Chelsea Clinton is engaged to a Jewish guy, which leads to the great questions like: Will she convert? Is this "good for the Jews"?

This article quotes all sorts of people whose "expertise" ostensibly makes their musings more relevant than other people's musings. But after all the musings, the article doesn't tell you anything you couldn't have thought up while hanging around and chit chatting with friends.

Is this the function of an article? To replace chit chatting with real people? Or should articles tell us something we didn't know before and challenge us to think?

A Word of Wisdom from Alan Watts

2009-12-02T12:22:00.002-05:00

If the universe is meaningless then so is the statement that it is so. (The Wisdom of Anxiety, page 114)

A Non-Miracle Story!

2009-11-26T19:28:00.006-05:00

Mushkie posted about how she wrote the Rebbe and didn't get an obviously miraculous answer.

I do not want to ridicule Mushkie. I just want to point out that this is an excellent example of the non-miracle stories which play very non-prominent role in people's beliefs.

Dear Sir or Madam,

2009-11-23T23:18:00.003-05:00

To all my dear friends,

I'm sorry to inform you that I will no longer be accessible through this medium. If you wish to contact me, you can call 413 497 0071.

Thank you very much for your understanding. I apologize for any inconvenience this way have caused.

e

The Bad Book Supporteth Mushrooms

2009-11-19T20:27:00.001-05:00

38 And John answered Him, saying, "Master, we saw one casting out devils in Thy name, but he followeth us not, so we forbad him because he followeth not us."
39 But Jesus said, "Forbid him not, for there is no man who shall do a miracle in My name that can lightly speak evil of Me.
40 For he that is not against us is on our side.
41 For whosoever shall give you a cup of water to drink in My name, because ye belong to Christ, verily I say unto you, he shall not lose his reward.

The Beginning of My Career as a Criminal in NYC

2009-11-15T23:14:00.002-05:00

Back in 2005, I was on the train around midnight. I found an old newspaper on a seat. This was the Q train, and I was sitting in a forward-facing seat. So I put my foot on the side-facing seat in front of me to hold up the paper. At Cortelyou Rd, the train stops and isn't starting again. A police man comes over to my car.
him: Sir, can you come off?
me: (wondering what the heck is going on) sure, uh, why?
him: You have your feet on the seat.
me: (in disbelief) You can't have your feet on the seat?
him: Yes.

So I got off. There was also a scared-looking Spanish-speaking delinquent there. Anyhow, these two cops take our IDs, write us tickets, the whole works. It took me a while to realize they were serious. Apparently you can't take up more than one seat because it blocks other passengers from sitting down. I tried telling the cops that I wasn't blocking anyone and the train was empty, but they wouldn't listen. Then I got pissed. There are crimes happening all over the city, and the police have nothing better to do than make sure people keep their feet on the floor?

When the next train came, the policemen motioned to the driver to wait and proceeded to go from car to car and look through the windows. My fellow ticketee and I got on the train and moved on.

In the end it wasn't too bad, because I was in Oholei Torah at the time, and didn't at all mind taking a day off from seder to fight the ticket. I had given the cops my Illinois address, and had a whole list of reason to tell the judge why I didn't deserve the ticket:
1. The car was empty.
2. I had just come from Illinois the week before. (That was the truth.)
3. I didn't know that you can't put your feet up.
4. I'm really tired, so I can't remember what else I had up my sleeve, but the point is that I had a bunch of excuses, and they were all decent. I spent the days before the hearing thinking which one was the best, because you can't go to the judge with five different excuses. That doesn't sound nice.

So I finally got in front of the judge, and before I could open my mouth, he hits the record button on this old-fashioned tape recorder (they're still using those old tape recorders in 2009) and starts spewing legalese about who he is and who I am and what I'm accused of and when I allegedly did it and that the ticket cannot establish a prima facie because it doesn't say how I was blocking people so the case is dismissed. He turns off the tape recorder and invites me to leave.

I waited a little longer in the waiting room to get transcripts of the hearing and hopped back to yeshiva, where I had my fifteen minutes of fame telling everyone the story.

That was just the beginning. Since then I've gotten two more tickets while riding the MTA, one parking ticket, and I've been accused of a criminal offense which is still pending. But my other tales of crime will have to wait for another day.

Thanks Sarabonne for the idea.

Limited Time Only! Read this Post for the Opportunity of a Lifetime!

2009-11-15T16:48:00.002-05:00

I want to write a post, but I don't konw what I should write about. I usually don't like people telling me what to write, but right now I'm out of ideas. What do you think I should write about? Perhaps I'll post something tonight.

Some Nice People Want to Give You Vocational Training

2009-11-11T17:00:00.001-05:00

I got this email yesterday:

Hi-

I ran across your blog and thought I’d challenge you, since you appear to actually care about the fact that most young bochurim are usually broke.

I’ve got a $5000 grant for each and every Chabad bochur that uses it for tuition at a vocational course that will bring him a profession that he can earn a living at. No strings attached, at all.

If they need help finding a career, I can help. Likewise with finding schools and courses. Also with writing resumes, getting GED’s , and so on. No strings, no BS, and all very very confidential.

Can you write about it?

Yossi

CH-CAP

212.524.1728

For Further Information About FEGS Health and Human Services System
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Эх Люли Люли: The Jewish Faith

2009-11-07T22:36:00.003-05:00

Hat tip to Mottel for pointing out this video:

Here's an very poor English translation:
The Jewish faith, like this, like this, like this
Gotta get up early in the morning
Ech, lully, lully al lu lay, gotta get up early in the morning
Say Modeh Ani, Ech, lully, lully la lu lay, say Modeh Ani
Pour out (?) negel vasser, Ech, lully, lully al lu lay, pour out negel vasser
[In this version, the next line is "Run to the mikveh, Ech lully, lully, la lu lay, run to the mikveh.]
Run the the Beis Hamidrash, Ech lully, lully la lu lay, run to the Beis Hamidrash
Put on "tallis un tefillin," Ech lully, lully la lu lay, put on tallis un tefillin
Next comes a rant which I can't really understand
Put on tallis un tefillin...
We never close our eyes...
and everything which happens, until the end...
We look at the world...
Some more vehemently recited stuff of which I only got the words, "nothing" "for sure" "none" "what you feel like"
you musn't wait
in the meantime, other people will do our job for us
Even if yesterday was early, tomorrow will be late
Must be here and now...
more rant
concrete...
feel the moment...
One can be a realist and an optimist...
Our grandfathers knew this
and they won
we come down their road
and we go to freedom
...song
Now the regular tune comes back
Say l'chaim
[In the other version they say "pour a _____ of vodka"]
ech lully lully la lu lay.

While I was writing this, the video woke up my niece, so the last half of the transcription is from memory and from looking at a chat in which I discussed this Mottel.

It's cute to see totally fry guys talking about negel vasser and "hama'aseh hu ha'ikkar." In the other version, the dude's singing with a non-tzniusdikly dressed lady. It's cute, but it's also obnoxious and meta-scrupleless. If you're not frum, who gives you the right to rant about mikveh and treading on our grandfathers' path?

It's also possible that I totally misunderstood the rant because my Russian ain't that great.

Why doesn't he get the hint?

2009-11-03T15:12:00.002-05:00

A certain guy who I barely know just friended me on Facebook for the fifth time. What is he thinking? Did he forget that he did this four times before? Does he like getting ignored?

Metascruples

2009-10-26T11:39:00.003-04:00

A few days ago, at the most ridiculous Shabbos table, someone mentioned that she didn't know what 'the metascruple' is. The circumstances then did not allow we to explain, but here, where you all come to hear me hold forth, I figured I can do this topic justice.

We encounter all sorts of things in life (e.g. pork, MOTOGs, rainbows, etc.) Scruples are principles that help us relate to the things we encounter (don't eat it, don't talk to it, say some Hebrew words but don't stare at it).

We encounter all sorts of scruples when going through life. A frum Jew, who is subject to a constant barrage of scruples, may find him or herself with a bunch of contradictory scruples (the tefillin daters) or lots of scruples which he or she cannot implement (e.g. stay up all Thursday night AND go on mivtzoim all Friday afternoon AND farbreng Friday night AND say tehillim Shabbos mevorchim morning AND learn Chassidus before davening AND daven b'avoda AND farbreng Shabbos afternoon AND go on tahalucha AND learn Chitas Rambam AND meseches Sota [if it happens to be shabbos mevorchim Iyar]) or one especially difficult-to-implement scruple which he or she breaks regularly (e.g. not listening to non-Jewish music, not talking to MOTOGs, and not killing millions of unborn and unconceived children).

A metascruple is a principle that allows us relate to the scruples we encounter. "I'll act the way I was raised," WWJD, and "let me call my mashpia" are all examples of metascruples. I think the Rebbe believed that for people coming closer to Judaism, a good metascruple would be not worry too much about the consistency between one's scruples; rather one should focus on making as many of one's actions as possible fit with as many of the Torah's scruples as possible.

If one is completely metascupleless, a common affliction is guilt: without a metascruple to sort through your different scruples, how can you avoid breaking some of them now and then?

My personal metascruple, which I often inaccurately refer to as 'the metascruple' is good at eliminating guilt. It is: If you will have a scruple, then implement it; if you won't implement a scruple, then don't have it.

Is Facebook Messed or is it Me?

2009-10-25T22:00:00.002-04:00

For the past couple days, I keep on getting error messages when I try logging into facebook. Is anyone else having these problems, or is there something wrong with my account?

Update: Facebook does not want you to contact them. This discussion would be funny, if it wasn't so serious.

The Hyperbolic Poet

2009-10-25T01:30:00.003-04:00

So there we were, at the poetry slam, and everyone was having a fun time pressuring everyone else to go up and perform. So I decided to write a poem on the spot, to express my deep, innermost feelings, which were evoked by the assemblage of the greatest poetic minds of the heights.

The Hyperbolic Poet

by e

Walking down the lane
Treading towards
His domicile, his abode
Inhaling the heady scent
Of the blood-red bloom
Its tender tendrils
Clinging
Grasping
Hanging
To the rough wooden grid
Climbing towards light and life

And now in English...

On his way home, he smelled a rose growing on a trellis.

Look Ma: I'm a Big Boy!

2009-10-14T16:32:00.002-04:00

Apparently, Chabad.org is big enough that spammers thought it worthwhile to steal their logo!

Anecdotal Evidence: Seductive but Unreliable

2009-10-10T19:15:00.002-04:00

As I was in the car heading back from the airport after the TRS-LE7 wedding, I had the following conversation with Meir, the driver:

M: Would you like to put your suit bag in the back?
E: No.
M: (surprised)
E: I have the Rebbe's kapote in here. I can't let go of it.
M: Oh wow! Can I touch it.
E: No.
M: (surprised)
E: Actually, go ahead. Touch it. I don't think it'll get ruined if you just take a peek and give a pat.
(This was followed by a discussion of Reb Yisroel's kapote-related scruples.)
M: Well, maybe this will help me get a shidduch. The Rebbe gave me his beracha twenty years ago, and I'm still waiting.

And then the conversation turned to other things, such as the super-cool symbolism of the number 5770, and my mathematics studies. (The guy remembers that I'm a math major from when he drove me to the airport before Pesach!)

In unrelated news, as Reb Yisroel was deciding to make an exception and send the kapote with me, he told me the story of the only other exception he ever made to his kapote-related scruples: The son-in-law of the shluchim to Cleveland needed a lung transplant. After six months of waiting, the doctors said that if the young man doesn't receive a lung transplant within 24 hours, he will need to spend the rest of his life on a respirator. The Shlucha to Cleveland frantically called Reb Yisrel, and asked him to send them the Rebbe's shirt. They tried to find someone driving from New York to Cleveland, but couldn't. So Reb Yisroel UPSed the shirt (and insured it for $10,000 I think. maybe I forgot the amount). Meanwhile, some dude got killed in a motorcycle crash. As the shirt was going to Cleveland from one direction, the dead guy's lung was heading to Cleveland from the other direction. Needless to say, the son-in-law lived happily ever after. He was hoping that the second time he violated his scruples (and sent the kapote with me) another miracle would happen. It didn't

Last story: a yungerman was sent on shlichus to California in 1951. As Chassidim are wont to do, he consulted with the Rebbe before every move. He followed the Rebbe's advice to the letter... and everything turned out for the worst. For example, there was a building which he had wanted to buy--and he had ba'al habatim ready to pay for it--but the Rebbe told him not to, because it would be too risky. Shortly afterwards, the government bought the building to make a road there. Had Chabad bought it, they could have sold it for a huge profit. I don't remember what other disasters happened, but the point is that the the shliach soon came back East, and spend the rest of his life bouncing around, teaching in Talmud Torahs, shechting animals, and doing nothing too spectacular, while some other young shluchim went to California, did lots of risky things and had tremendous success. He is still mekushar to the Rebbe, but is bitter and confused why the Rebbe didn't let him have success in California. His story is not well known, but I know it because I am related to him.

Do you see a pattern here? The Rebbe gives a guy a beracha and it's fulfilled after twenty years, and it's published in Kfar Chabad magazine and everywhere else. The Rebbe gives a different guy a beracha, and it's never fulfilled, and no one hears about it.
A shliach follows the Rebbe's advice and sees miracles, and the whole world knows about it. A shliach follows the Rebbe's advice and fails, and his own family barely knows about it.
The Rebbe's shirt wreaks a miracle, and Yisroel Shemtov tells and retells the story. The Rebbe's kapote wreaks nothing, and nobody hears about it.

I'm not saying people should start publicizing non-miracles. Who would want to hear the exciting story about the time the Rebbe's kapote didn't make the heretic repent or about the time when the guy didn't find a shidduch? I'm just saying that you should be wary of accepting anecdotes as proof of anything, because you can be sure that there are lots of less exciting anecdotes that you aren't hearing.

We Miss You, TRS!

2009-10-06T23:55:00.001-04:00

I understand you're married and all that, but don't you have time for the important shtuff?

This is Your Religion II: Not for the Ladies

2009-09-27T15:44:00.003-04:00

Judaism: where jerking off is mass murder, but being a jerk is mandatory.

Yisroel Shemtov has a big heart, II

2009-09-17T15:53:00.003-04:00

Quick recap: Yisroel Shemtov and I had made up that I would take the Rebbe's kapote to Milwaukee, and TRS called the rabbi to cancel.

Meanwhile, I was at my sister's house doing laundry. I figured, even without the kapote it still makes sense to rent a car. Otherwise we'll need to pay a fortune to take taxis to and from the airport and to and from the wedding. I figured I would need a car for two days, which would cost around $100. I called all the bochurim who were flying from New York, and they all agreed to chip in for a car if I drove everyone to the airport. I made my reservation, and moved on.

A few hours later I get a call from TRS. He had left Yisroel Shemtov a voicemail saying that he regretfully would be married without the kapote. Yisroel Shemtov called him back and refused to hear of it. The good rabbi would pay for the car, and TRS would need only to pay the $100. I told TRS that Yisroel's paying for the car wasn't really necessary, because that bochurim had all agreed to pay for it. We decided to tell the bochurim the whole story, and ask them to please give what they had pledged towards the car to cover the kapote.

At 3:25 I stood in front of the Shemtov residence and called Yisroel's cell phone. A minute later he stood at the door.
"What time is your flight?" he asked.
"7:00," I replied.
"So why are you here so early?"
"Well, I want to take public transportation, so I need to be on the train at 4:00."
"You can't take public transportation. The kapote might get lost."
"Fine," I acquiesced, "I'll take a taxi."
"If you're driving, you can sleep for another few hours. Come inside."

So, he showed me a bed in the back of his house, which I joyfully inhabited until 5:10, when he woke me up to go to mikveh. After mikveh, it seemed that everything was settled besides for one small issue. "I don't have enough cash to pay for a taxi... Perhaps you can lend me..." I stammered.
"What taxi?" Yisroel retorted, "I have my own limo."

So we drove to the airport, while Yisroel regaled me with tales of how the kapote was almost lost and how I better watch myself. When we arrived, he gave me $20 "just in case," and told me that he would pay for my taxi back from the airport. Because of me, he now has a new rule for kapote carriers: no public transportation!

The trip to Milwaukee was lovely. It was nice to be back in the Midwest where people are friendly and the roads are drivable. The five bochurim each contributed $20, and TRS got his kapote for free. We checked out the Chabad house in Mequon (freaking huge!), the Miller Beer factory (free beer!) and some Art Museum on the lakefront (shaped like a boat, right off of Wisconsin Ave.). The wedding was even better. We danced our hearts out, and only knocked over the mechitzah three or four times. But whatever. Back to the main thread of our story.

Upon arriving in Crown Heights (driven by the Moshe, the most reliable and cheapest taxi driver out there--call him at 917.951.1973) I immediately went to Yisroel Shemtov's office, to give him the kapote. I felt pretty horrible asking him to pay for my taxi from the airport. After all, even without the kapote, I'd need to get myself back from the airport. I figured I'd have him pay only half that ride and tell him that there was another bochur with me in the car.
Here was my cheshbon:
$100 --kaopte fee
-$58 --car rental
-$15 --taxi
So I'd give him $27 bucks, plus the $20 he had lent me.

I gave him the kapote, safe and sound, together with $47.
"Are you giving me too much money? Don't mess with me. By me, a deal is a deal. I said I'd pay for the taxi. How much do you really owe me?"

All plans about saying there was another guy with me in the car flew out of my head. I let him give me back $15.
"Don't forget about the other part of our deal [i.e. the scrupulous behavior I gotta do tomorrow]. If you cheat me and do more than we made up, I'll only love you more. No. It's not possible for me to love you any more than I already do. Just you'll make me very happy.

As Zaphod Beebblebrox would say, Yisroel Shemtov is one hell of a guy. Normally he'd enjoy some pleasant banter with a bochur, give him the kaopte the morning of the wedding, and get $100. For this particular customer, he first farbrenged for around an hour. Then got up at 3:20, let a bochur sleep in his house, got up again at 5:10, gave the bochur a ride the airport--after attempting to give him a cup of coffee--leaving the precious kapote in the hands of an unscrupulous young man. And for all this, he made a grand total of $12--and refused to take a penny more.

Of course the wedding was stupendous, but this post is already too long to squeeze in any more. Mazal Tov TRS and Le7! Many happy years together!

Yisroel Shemtov has a big heart

2009-09-16T23:20:00.004-04:00

A word of background for the snags among us: Chassanim wear the Rebbe's kapote at their chupah. Some guys also wear the Rebbe's shirt, as a kittel. Rabbi Yisroel Shemtov has a kapote and a shirt of the Rebbe's, which he lends to chassanim.

A couple weeks ago, TRS asked me to take the Rebbe's kopote to Milwaukee for him. The day before the wedding, I was a bit concerned that TRS hadn't mentioned the kapote to me when he saw me over Shabbos, but I figured that he had enough on his mind as it is, so I didn't call to confirm that he still wanted my services. I called Yisroel Shemtov and asked to arrange to take the kapote. As is his wont, he asked to meet me before forking over the kapote.

I met him in his shop and he continued the discussion exactly where we left it off at the TRS-le7 l'chaim, with the scintillating topic of my beard or lack thereof. This quickly segued into a discussion of my general lack of scruples, and a mutual outpouring of hearts.

While we were pouring out our hearts to each other, I happened to learn some of Rabbi Shemtov's kapote-related rules:

A member of the wedding party cannot take the kapote, as he'll be too busy with other stuff to worry about the kapote.

The bochur who takes the kapote must go to mikveh beforehand.

Nobody is allowed to touch the kapote besides for the bochur to whom it was given. The bochur puts it on the chosson before the chuppah and takes it off after the chuppah. The rest of the time, the kapote sits in the trunk of a car to which only the bochur has the keys.

There are a bunch of other rules, but here's the most important one: if you lose the kapote, you owe Yisroel Shemtov $50,000. There's some impoverished Jew who owns another one of the Rebbe's kaptoes, and he's willing to sell it for $50,000. So if you lose Yisroel's, he wants you to give him money to get a replacement.

It goes without saying that among the rules is the requirement that the kapote carrier be a scrupulous, G-d-fearing young man, which I plainly told Reb Yisroel that I am not. For reasons I shan't disclose in public, he decided to give me the kapote anyways, with the condition that I engage in certain scrupulous behaviors this coming weekend.

He only gives the bochur to kapote on the way to the airport, so we made up to meet at his house at 3:20, when he would give me the keys to the mikveh near his house, I would dunk, get the kapote, and hop off to the airport.

It was an interesting conversation, and I was rather excited about the whole business. I hopped over to my sister's house to do some laundry, borrowed my sister's laptop to check the car-rental prices in Milwaukee, and was settling down to check my email, when I saw the following line at the end of an email from TRS:

Also, don't worry about the kapote from shemtov, because I'm not getting it.
Cheers!

I called TRS, and he basically said that he wasn't getting the kapote because it was just too expensive. Yisroel charges $100, plus he'd need to pay for me to rent a car to keep the kapote safe in. And with all the bajillions of other expenses, he just can't afford it.

I said, "Oh well. At least I had an interesting chit-chat with the rabbi. N'nu." In truth, I was a tad pissed. It's no big deal when poverty keeps you from buying sushi or taking a taxi. But wearing the Rebbe's kapote is a big deal. It's horrible that somebody should miss out just because he's a hundred dollars short.

But... The story gets more interesting and cheerful. Stay tuned for tomorrow's installment.

YAHOOOO!!!!!!!!!

2009-09-15T17:36:00.002-04:00

I don't like to post twice in one day, but extreme news requires extreme measures. Everyone's favorite shegetz is now JEWISH!!!!!!

Welcome to the clan, Yonatan Yisrael!

What is Chabad?

2009-09-15T14:55:00.004-04:00

Check out this wasome video about Chabad of my beautiful hometown. Who can spot the two bloggers in this video? (I will remove the link in a few days for confidentiality reasons, so make sure to watch it now!)

I'm sure TRS and le7 are gonna post about the wedding, so I won't tell you the whole story from my perspective (in brief, we came, we drank, we danced). But I hope to post later about the saga of the Rebbe's Kapote. So stay tuned!

Two Misconceptions and a Shout Out for the New Blog on the Block (or the Basement)

2009-09-07T19:53:00.005-04:00

During hi-how-are-you conversations (which I HATE, as many of you already know), people often say:

"You're studying in City College? Is that a community college?"

I don't know why this is, or which dumbell invented these terms, but "community college" means "two-year college." People asking this question probably don't even know that there are two-year and four-year colleges. They really mean to ask, "Is City college a public college?"

For the record:
The opposite of a private college is a public college.
The opposite of a community college is a senior college.

The other misconception is harder to clear up. People say, "Oh! You're studying math. So what are you gonna be? An accountant?"

AURGH!! All the math you need to do accounting is addition, subtraction, multiplication, and division. Do accountants ever plumb the mysteries of derivatives, integrals, transcendental functions, vectors, or three-dimensional surfaces? This I doubt. To quote the second greatest computer of all time and space, "Molest me not with this pocket-calculator stuff."

And now the shout out: Big N8t's latest post is good shtuff. Reminds me of my yeshiva days.

$$$$$

2009-09-06T19:53:00.002-04:00

Money really makes a difference in people's lives. All the guys in my apartment are pretty much unemployed. And we sit around all day and talk about how poor we are and how impossible it is to find work. Then when something fun comes up, we obsess about how much money it'll cost. WTF? Can't we just enjoy life? If we could each have work for only a few hours a day, we'd have enough money to do whatever we want and not obsess about bloody money all day.

Matisyahu: Credo Quia Absurdum

2009-09-04T15:27:00.004-04:00

Jane: Oh, my boss is so mean! I hate his guts!
John: Don't you ever feel down, thinking how you're always gonna be stuck with this jerk?
Jane: Nope, I know that I'm gonna be his boss one of these days.
Jack: How do you know that?
Jane: Well, since the day I've been hired, I've been waiting and praying for a promotion.

Mark: I'm so damn broke! There's no way I can pay next month's rent.
Mary: What's your plan for the future? Are you maybe gonna get off your butt and start working?
[Mary and Mark are truckers, so pardon the indelicate expressions.]
Mark: Nah, I'm winning the lottery soon.
Mary: Are you certain of that, young man?
Mark: Well, all my live I've been waiting and praying to win the lottery.

Mark and Jane are being stupid. They're saying, "X is true, because I've always thought it to be true." Need I prove the fallacy of this statement?

Matisyahu does the same thing in "One Day":

sometimes in my tears I drown
but I never let it get me down
so when negativity surrounds
I know some day it'll all turn around
because
all my live I've been waiting for
I've been praying for
for the people to say
that we don't wanna fight no more
there'll be no more wars
and our children will play

In general, in matters of religious faith, people are allowed to believe things simply because that's what they believe.

John: Why do y'all read the Talmud instead of just reading God's word?
Yochanan: Well, we believe that the Talmud contains God's will and wisdom.

Shabbat Shalom to all, and remember, if you don't eat any cholent, you're a heretic!

A Link to an Article that you Shouldn't Bother Reading

2009-08-25T00:53:00.002-04:00

This article attempts to promote tolerance and whatnot, but its condescending, I-know-better-than-you-silly-people-who-take-religion-seriously attitude would drive religious people nuts and make them wary of efforts to make them get along.

Basically, they say, "Hmmm. The Koran and the Bible have passages that condone tolerance for outsiders and passages that imply that you gotta kill 'em all. Maybe if we could understand this issue, the religious people could get along."

Of course, their explanation of how these contradicting passages got in there is based on the assumption that the holy books were affected by the circumstances of the people writing them, not the eternal will and wisdom of G-d. The religious people--at least those who are fighting about religion--are never gonna accept any of that, so cut the crap. Just say you're going to expose the pettiness of religiously inspired prejudice.

Defending the True Faith

2009-08-23T23:26:00.002-04:00

Borrowing a page from TRS' book, I'm posting something which I wrote back in the day, but never published publicly. I don't really agree with what I assert below, but neither am I sure how to explain the anecdote which I bring to support said assertion.

When we try to determine the halacha, G-d keeps an eye on us and steers us towards the right conclusion. Here's a story which shows us this process at work. This past summer, I toured Israel with a group of friends. At Masada, our tour guide told us a fascinating anecdote: archeologists were digging in Masada and found a pair of tefillin. As you probably know, there is a disagreement between Rashi and his grandson Rabbeinu Tam as to which order the parchment scrolls are to be put in the tefillin. When they found the tefillin at Masada, they opened them up and found that... the parchments were arranged according to Rabbeinu Tam. This seemed to imply that Rabbeinu Tam was "right," and Rashi was "wrong." But sometime later, they found another pair of tefillin... which were written according to Rashi.

I find this story amazing. The disagreement between Rashi and Rabbeinu Tam centers on how to interpret a Talmudic passage. One would think that either Rashi or Rabbeinu Tam understood that passage. The other must have gotten it wrong, thereby corrupting the Oral Law.

But if one of the opinions was merely a misunderstanding of the Talmud, then why were both types of tefillin used hundreds of years before the Talmud was written?

These tefillin tell us that G-d directs the disagreements of the sages. Both opinions reflect a true method of making tefillin. G-d puts the matters in our hands, but He guides our debate to keep us in line with His will.

This leads us to another question: why does G-d want halacha to be developed in this roundabout way?

Were the Torah, with all its nitty-gritty details, handed to us on a silver platter (or a desert mountain) it would be purely G-dly. G-d would be imposing His will on a bunch of people who weren't related to it. Conversely, were halacha entirely in our hands, it would become a human creation. In realty, Halacha is a little bit of both. A concept only becomes the halacha once a human mind has thought up the concept, played with it, examined it, tried to disprove it, compared it with other concepts, and shared it with other human minds. A true halacha must also be an instance of the will and wisdom of the Creator. It has within it that special spark that transforms physicality into spirituality and darkness into light. Halacha is a synergy of our reasoning and G-d's wisdom. Thus, Halacha relates to man and to G-d. And that's what gives it its power.

Sheesh. I wrote so formally back then. It's been a while since I wrote serious stuff.

AAUURRGGHH!!!

2009-08-21T01:20:00.006-04:00

In chassidus, we learned about the prototypical friendship: Reuven understands that by hanging out with Shimon he will gain something (witty words of wisdom, free Starbucks coffee, whatever) and therefore Reuven starts to love Shimon and spend time with him. (The nimshal being that through hisbonenus, one understands how great G-d is and starts to love him. Do not try this at home. It will not work. ואכ"מ)

That's not how my friendships formed. I became friends with people when external circumstances threw us together, even though we weren't especially compatible, and even though we didn't work on maintaining the friendship. Many of my closest friends were roommates. We never chose to become friends. We ended up in the same room by coincidence. But we ended up spending lots of time together and just getting to know each other. So we became friends.

Sorry folks, but I'm going to need to bring another example from the Chassidic masters. The Frierdiker Rebbe says that there are two kinds of mercy: mercy from exaltedness ("romemus") and mercy from empathy ("hergesh," literally "feeling"). The first kind of mercy is what the king feels towards the beggar in the street. Something along the lines of, "I'm the big king. I have a palace and hordes of servants at my beck and call. You have nothing. All you have is a spot on the sidewalk near the subway's air shaft to keep you warm in the winter. I will mercifully give you fifty cents."

The Frierdiker Rebbe does not define mercy from empathy at much length (as far as I can recall), but this is what I think he means: I and my friend spend time together. We share with each other. There becomes some kind of connection, and the line between "I" and "you" starts to blur. He loses five dollars, and parts of his frustration leaks into me. His brother gets engaged, and I experience part of the joy. Why do I care if my roommate's brother gets engaged any more that if some random other guy gets engaged? Will it make a difference to my life at all? It doesn't make a difference. But it makes a difference to my friend. And what makes a difference to him makes a difference to me.

Many years ago my sister got a book out from the library about a pair of Siamese twins. They shared a stomach, so that when one of them drank, they both got drunk. That's friendship. Your alcohol affects my stomach, because we share parts of ourselves with each other.

So don't ask me why I care. I care because I feel for you. Because you're my friend. Maybe it was some silly set of circumstances that brought us together. That's irrelevant. "vi nisht vi" the circumstances were what they were, and we came together. So now we're together, and we share whatever experiences life sends our way.

A (Slightly) Off-Color, Super Cute Thing my Niece Said

2009-08-18T00:09:00.002-04:00

My mom was holding my two-month old nephew. The nephew started to cry. Said my mother, "I would hold him, but he wants to nurse. I can't help him with that."

Says my four-year-old niece, "Because you nursed Tatty, and Mendel, and Sarah, so it would be germs if Moshe nursed from you."

Is 151 a prime number? Hmm... Let's check

2009-08-17T15:36:00.003-04:00

Let X and n be natural numbers. If X has no factors less than n, and X is less than n squared, then X is a prime number.

A Break from the Bible: I've got a secret that will fix your life!

2009-08-09T19:17:00.003-04:00

A common phenomenon: a kind, caring person meets someone in distress. The kindly soul hears the basics of this person's distress and immediately sees a way out of it. Often the solution is something along the lines of "Adopt my philosophy of life, and you'll be fine." Based on the kind person's knowledge--which is often scanty, having just met the person in distress--this is really a great solution. After all the kind person's philosophy of life works for him or her, why shouldn't it work for his or her new friend in distress?

The problem is that the person in distress can't adopt the kind person's solution. And to make matters worse, the person in distress usually can't explain why he or she isn't jumping for joy and running off to implement the kind-intentioned but unimplementable advice. One who has a deeper understanding of the problem and the personality of the sufferer would see what's wrong about the solution. But the good Samaritan cannot. And the damsel or dude in distress can't explain what's wrong.

I was once the recipient of such well intentioned and unappreciated advice. It was given to me by someone to whom I affectionately refer to as "my shiktzeh." She had it all figured out. I should start living in the moment and relish meeting new people and experiencing new things. And if I'm stuck in traffic with an obnoxious carmate, I shouldn't sit and stew. I should say, "Great! I have another opportunity to get to know this person and understand a new perspective on life! Joy!" I shouldn't just eat ice cream. I should savor it, feel the taste, and smell the texture. I should really eat it. Then every meal becomes a treat and life becomes paradise. This is great advice. It worked for her. But it doesn't work for me. But I couldn't explain to her why it wouldn't work for me.

Yesterday I met a damsel in distress. I instantly saw how she should get out of distress. Although I didn't notice the coincidence at the time, the advice I gave her was basically "Live your life exactly the way I'm living mine." I couldn't understand why she didn't lap up my advice hungrily. And even more amazingly, I couldn't understand why she couldn't explain to me what was wrong with my advice.

What's the lesson? Don't think you know everything. Recognize that you cannot understand someone else's life just by chit-chatting with them for ten minutes. You probably don't understand even your own life after all these years.

The Lord thy God is a Jealous God

2009-08-05T12:47:00.001-04:00

for more information, read the beginning of Kings II

Oh! How we long for for the days of revelation, when God spoke through his faithful servants!

2009-07-22T14:18:00.002-04:00

Back in the day it was really simple. God whispered secrets in the prophets' ears, and everyone know what to do, right? Wrong!

Happy nine days to you all.

I wanted to find this for a while.

2009-07-15T11:04:00.002-04:00

But I just found it five minutes ago, because I just looked five minutes ago. The people who are discussed in that article, are the same people i talk about here.

Chassidish!!

2009-07-14T12:48:00.001-04:00

I just got an email from my nutiritionist (the one who got me started on this gluten-free diet). She says I can't have beer or whiskey, but I can have vodka. Oh darn! I forgot to ask about Everclear.

You are not safe!

2009-07-07T17:38:00.001-04:00

I was floating around Google Reader today, and noticed that Reader had some posts from a friend's blog which I had thought said friend had deleted. I scrolled down further and found many more extremely personal posts, which I'm certain said friend had deleted before I ever dreamt of subscribing to his blog.

This reminded me of when a dear fellow blogger posted something nasty about me and immediately took it down. Later that night, I was chatting with TRS about a post which TRS had removed from his own blog:

TRS: It's online, and on the rss feeds...
1:03 AM me: listen, it'll last as long as it lasts, and that's that
TRS: forever
me: is [OTHER BLOGGER]'s post about me forever?
TRS: probably
1:04 AM me: take it down before it feeds into any more feeds and gets cached and all that nasty stuff

In those days of youth and naivete I thought that TRS meant that those who had subscribed already would always have the post in their RSS readers. But seeing those supposedly deleted posts made me think that maybe RSS readers really do keep things forever. I subscribed to the blog in which I had been maligned way back in the day, scrolled down to September 12, and viola! The following was seen:

Sep 12, 2008 2:57 PM E from CENSORED by CENSORED
I have this visceral belief that e is pure evil. Does anybody else feel that way some time?

The point of this post is not to laugh at people whose secrets are buried in Google Reader or to badmouth the guy who thought I'm viscerally evil. The point is that you gotta be careful. In the past I toyed with the idea of posting stuff that might be a tad too personal for public consumption but would be interesting to the friendly regular readers of this here humble blog. I figured I could delete it after everyone had read it, and my confidentiality would be safe. Say I to you, au contraire! Anybody can read anything anybody has ever written on any blog, merely by subscribing in Google reader!

Guys and Girls

2009-07-04T15:58:00.004-04:00

To some of you this post will restate the obvious. To some of you, this post will make no sense. But some of you will find this post enlightening. So if you're in that third group, this post is for you.

Guys like girls. Girls like guys. But they can't just meet each other and start romantic relationships. There's a whole game they need to play first. I don't know the rules of the game, but the main idea is that you can't say what you mean.

Now, when you meet someone and there's no chance of any romance developing, you're excused from that whole game. You're allowed to be yourself. A girl can buy a guy a coke. A guy doesn't need to act like Mister Cool. This is what the pick-up artists warn against: the worst place to be, they say, is in a girl's "friend zone." You'll stay "just friends" forever and never get the real sechoirah ("merchandise"). But I don't care. The friend zone happens to coincide with my comfort zone.

VD"L

In unrelated news, I've had ads on the blog for the past two days, and I already made one cent! Soon I'll be rich!

Update about Anti-Sociality and Coco

2009-07-03T13:39:00.002-04:00

Last semester I was taking algebra and sitting in on calc I. This semester I'm taking calc II and sitting in on pre-calc. There's this dude who was in calc I with me and in chemistry with me (although that barely counts, because there were over a hundred people in chem with me). Now he's taking calc I again and he's sitting in on pre-calc with me. So we've been seeing each other around the tutoring center and in pre-calc. Polite gentleman that I am, I always raised my eyebrows in greeting when I saw him, and he would nod. We may have even ventured a "hi, how are you?" a few times. Yesterday we actually spoke! A full fledged conversation! The professor in pre-calc was giving an exam, and we discussed whether we should take it, being that we're just sitting in. Then we discussed optimization problems and what a sneaky trick it was for Prof. Destina to ask the calc I students to graph a rational function which had no vertical asymptotes. To those who say it can't be done: I socialized with a classmate, without any preliminary small talk bullsh*t.

In barely related news, below is the paper on which I disproved the Coco theorem. My writing is on the left and on top. Her writing is on the bottom right.

E vs. Coco (If you don't know math, just skip the mumbo-jumbo. You'll get the story regardless.)

2009-07-01T14:59:00.006-04:00

In my school, there's a tutoring center, where you can get help with math and physics. They lady in charge has this nasty high-pitched voice, painted-on eye lashes, and wears the horriblest, loudest, most-mismatched clothes you've ever seen. When you come in she screams, "Sign in! Sign in!" Imagine what would happen if people didn't sign in at the tutoring center... or even worse, they might sign in but leave out the last four digits of their social security numbers... Oh! God save us from such horrors! Thank God we have Coco to prevent such tragedies.

Despite the b*tch at the door, I like studying there. The atmosphere is kind of like a zal, and it's harder to space out or get too involved with checking my email on my phone when I'm with other people.

Anyhow, Coco had just finished screaming at one of the tutors for not offering his help. (That exchange was actually kind of funny.
Coco: Why you don't ask students if they need help?
Tutor: I aksed 'em all, two minutes ago.
Girl on the other side of room: (raising her hand) I need help)

After that exchange, Coco felt like making herself useful before she resumed her post at her computer to look out for students trying to sneak in without signing in. So she moseyed over to me and asked if needed help. I accepted her offer, and we started working through a problem together. My trig is horrible. I learned it all myself, so I'm missing lots of basics.

Me: (hoping she'll tell me the formula) OK, now it's cos2t = 0, so we need the double angle formula...
Coco: (mutters something unintelligible with her foreign accent)
Me: Yeah, the double angle formula, which is...
Coco: (smirking) the double angle formula
Me: which is...
Coco: (smirks silently)
I turn to cheat sheet on the inside from cover, and shamefacedly copy the double angle formula. But I copied the wrong one. So I copy the second one, even more shamefacedly.

I wasn't going to let this slide. I figured I'd ask her a question that's been bothering me since yesterday.

∫ e^[ln(2x)] dx Looks like a scary integral. It's not.
∫ e^[ln(2x)] dx = ∫ [e^ln(x)]^(2) dx
= ∫ x^2 dx
= x^3/3 + c

But suppose you didn't simply it first, could you still solve the problem by taking the ln of both sides? Here's what I did yesterday:
y = ∫ e^[ln(2x)] dx
ln(y) = ln ∫ e^[ln(2x)] dx
= ∫ ln e^[ln(2x)] dx
= ∫ [ln(2x)] dx
u=2x; du=2
= 1/2 ∫ [ln(2x)] 2dx
= 1/2 ∫ ln(u) du
using integration by parts, you get
1/2 [x*ln(2x) - x] + c

remember, that all this is ln(y). To get y, we raise that whole mess to e, so the final answer is:

e^(1/2 [x*ln(2x) - x] + c)

This is obviously not the right answer. But what had I done wrong? Perhaps the mistake was taking the ln of both sides?

I showed Coco the original expression.
Coco: That simplifies to X^2.
Me: Yeah, but if I don't simplify it, could I get the integral by taking the ln of both sides, and then raising everything to e?
Coco: Don't do it.
Me: I understand it's harder, but is it allowed?
Coco: Don't do it.
Me: Yeah, but could I? Suppose you have an integral that you can't evaluate, are you allowed to take the ln and then raise it to e?
Coco: Yes, but-
Me: Great. So I want to see how you would do that here.
Coco: No
Me: But I want to see how it would work out. Could you show me?
Coco: No

There I was, thirsting for knowledge, and she was refusing and making me feel like a spoiled child who wants the parent to give it unnecessary stuff.

So I bided my time and thought evil thoughts about Coco. And thought about this rule some more, and realized that Coco was wrong. Here's a simple proof:
∫2^x dx
According to the Coco Theorem, you proceed as follows:
∫2^x dx = y
∫ln 2^x dx = ln(y)
= ∫ x*ln2 dx
ln2 is a constant, so you take it outside:
= ln2 ∫ x dx
= ln2*x2/2 + c. That is complete BS. The Coco theorem is wrong

But by now Coco was ensconced near her computer, heavily engrossed in Yahoo news. I showed her my work and asked her what I had done wrong? Each step had been legal, according to her, but the answer was wrong. Everyone knows that ∫2^x dx = 2^x/ln(2) + c. Where had we gone wrong? She got all confused. She started to scribble, pulled a bunch of u-substations but couldn't get anywhere. She asked for my book, and started to flip through chapter 7. I calmly reminded her that Logarithms and exponentials are discussed in chapter 6. She violently flipped to chapter six, where they were discussing the derivatives of exponentials. I knew that the formula for integrating exponentials was on the next page, but I kept quiet. Let the master of the tutoring center plumb the mysteries of mathematics in peace.

She scribbled some more, and decided that ∫2^x dx is in fact 2^x/ln(2) + c, as I had predicted. So what was wrong with what I had done? Is it possible that you're not allowed to take the ln of both sides and the raise the equation to e? Eh? Was I perhaps misinformed a few minutes ago? Oh yeah, I had suspected as such. Well, Coco, don't feel bad. I hear you got the double-angle formula down pat.

I'm anti-social

2009-06-30T17:40:00.002-04:00

So, it's already a month into the semester, and I've had a total of three conversations: (1) with Prof. Destina about Hebrew language and Judaism, (2) with Prof. Mboup (my math teacher last semester) about what I'm studying this semester, and (3) with Prof. Destina about what I'm studying this semester. Aside from that there have been a bunch of friendly nods to various classmates, a few "hi"s, and a lot of business-like conversation with the library staff. And I had some math-related conversations with the teacher and the guy in the tutoring center. But that's it. I don't think I said a word to any of my classmates besides for salutations. Oh yeah, I also had a quick hi-how-are-you conversation with this former-Satmar girl whom I haven't seen around since then. So that makes a grand total of four social conversations on campus in one month.

2009-06-28T17:17:00.000-04:00

Testing

Read shall you all read this article

2009-06-24T15:27:00.003-04:00

which explains the origins of a Jewish linguistic quirk. (Hint: I just expressed myself in said quirky manner.) It doesn't say anything earth-shattering; I kind of suspected its main point all along, but it's nice to hear an expert say it.

~[(P => Q) => (Q => P)]

2009-06-22T17:59:00.003-04:00

If jack drives into a brick wall at 90 MPH, it is highly likely that he will die. But if Jack dies, it his not at all likely that he drove into a brick wall at 90 MPH.

The fallacy of the above inference is obvious, but people make this mistake all the time. Kids often say things like, "Someone stole my pencil! I can't find it anywhere." I used to get nervous when my classmates would say that. If someone stole your pencil, it's likely that you won't be able to find it. But if you can't find your pencil, it is still rather unlikely that someone snuck into your cubbie, rummaged through your markers, tzedakah pennies, candy wrappers, and tickets, and stole your chewed-up pencil.

People say, "You know why they haven't developed feasible alternative fuels? Because the oil companies won't allow them. Big oil controls everything. They don't allow the scientists to make any progress." Ignoring the question of who exactly "they" are, there's a bigger issue. A Big-oil conspiracy makes alternative fuels unlikely, but lack of alternative fuels does not make a conspiracy likely.

My darling little nephew (who is picted in my Facebook profile picture) had bronchitis, poor thing. Said his mother on Shabbos, "Yankel is sick. Sarah is sick. It must be that Junior's disease is contagious." Thought I, as I sat at the table and contemplated writing this post, "Junior's disease being contagious makes it likely that Sarah and Yankel would be sick at the same time, but does their illnesses' coincidence mean that Junior's bronchitis is contagious?"

Now for the point of this whole exercise:

People say, "Do you know how unlikely our universe is? And then imagine how much unlikelier our beautiful planet is? And the human being is the most unlikely of all! Such magnificent coincidences cannot be the product of random chance. Obviously, G-d created the world and has plan for it. Certainly we human beings play a special role with cosmic significance.

Say I, certainly the existence of a G-d with human-centric plans makes our circumstances likely. But do our circumstances make G-d likely?

I am not responsible for this post.

2009-06-19T00:37:00.003-04:00

I hate those bloggers who post about posting. Even worse are the bloggers who post to tell us all the wonderful things about which they're not posting. To these Cretens I say, "Don't you have anything beter to share with the world that your silly cicular thoughts?" But the worst are the bloggers who don't prrof read and leave typos in theire final porduct. If you want me to read your stuff, can't you at least read it youself to make sure it's well written. But today, I'm gonna commit all the sins I've jsut mentioned. I wanted to post today, and I didn't get around to it until now when I'm too tired to think straight and too lazy to type everything right hte first time and too lazy to go back and correct the mistakes. so there. Take that. This post sucks. Sorry for making you read it. It really sucks.

But I can be proud of myself that 12:45 is now crazy late and WAY after my bedtime. It means that in general I'm going to sleep on time.

HELLO??? So much has happened in the last few days, is htere really nothoing better to post about than my bedtime? Yeah, this is one of htose horrible, self-refrential posts. Aurgh. I'm not proud of this post at all. And yess, I'm about to hit "publish post," and I didn't read this post even once. And I see lots of red lines. And they're gonna stay there. Forever. too bad.

This Is Your Religion, Part I: Healing Clothes

2009-06-16T10:45:00.004-04:00

Here's one of those "yeah-right" things, of which Judaism is abundantly blessed, loosely translated from the Alter Rebbe's Shulchan Aruch, 228:29.

First, some background: grinding is prohibited on Shabbos. The Sages were concerned that if people could take medicine on Shabbos, they might grind fresh remedies on Shabbos. So, they prohibited doing anything which heals on Shabbos, even if the cure does not include any grinding, such as taking non-ground medicines, massaging oneself, gargling vinegar, etc.

Says the Alter Rebbe:
It is permissible to put a dry sponge or dry pieces of cloth on a wound if they are new, because they do not heal; rather they ensure that the [injured person's] clothing do not scratch the wound. Old clothes are prohibited, because they heal. When does this apply? when the [old] clothes have never before been on a wound. But if they were already on a wound, they will no longer heal--even though they are old--and they may be placed on a wound on Shabbos.

Internet is evil

2009-06-11T22:11:00.004-04:00

There's a new mishega'as in Lubavitch. The websites post pictures of l'chaims and weddings. There's no privacy. A private citizen goes to l'chaim, and the next day there are pictures of him online. This is a case in point. I saw the photographer there, and moved away after I saw him aim his camera at me. Apparently he didn't want to post the picture of me giving him a dirty look and turning away from him. But he didn't mind post a rather non-flattering picture of me. What kind of craziness is this? Do I need to guard myself from paparazzi when I go to a l'chaim? The point is that today there is no privacy. Suppose somebody wants to see a picture of me, and he knows that my cousin or friend recently got engaged or married. That person can go snoop on me, unbeknownst to me.

Most people with whom I've discussed this phenomenon agree that it's evil, but they all look at these pictures anyways. Like all forms of gossip, everyone says it's bad, but everyone wants to engage in it themselves.

e and the Muslims

2009-06-10T18:49:00.003-04:00

Perceptive readers have noticed that I like Islam. Before explaining why, do the following: Forget about current events. Go back around eight hundred years, when the Christians were butchering heretics and the Muslims were inventing algebra. Also, keep in mind that my liking Islam does not mean I think it's true. I'm talking about an aesthetic appeal.

1. Islam is focused on the main point.
Muslim's are fanatically anti-idolatry. No icons, no pictures of Muhammad, no nothing. That's why Muslim art is mostly calligraphy and flowers, not Jesus getting crucified (gross) or grotesque Where-the-Wild-Things-Are-type godlets (think Hinduism).

When Muslim's pray, they face the Kabbah in Mecca. It's just a big black square rock, which they claim Daddy Abraham erected. Unfortunately, they idolatrous pre-Muhammad Arabs later put idols around the Kabbah, but Muhammad got rid of idols and reminded everyone that the Kabbah is where it's at.

This is kind of like what the Rebbe says in "B'yom Ashtei Asar": forget the BS. Remember the ikkar.

2. There's less of a "yeah right" reaction
Face it. There's some stuff in Judaism, to which the natural response is "yeah right." I like to minimize the public kefira, so I won't go into examples. Christianity also has lots of "yeah right" doctrines (virgin birth, infallibility of the Pope, "No man cometh unto the Father except through Me," to name a few). With Islam, you have much fewer. The Koran was written recently, so it's not hard to believe that it was actually dictated by Muhammad. The Koran doesn't include a hard-to-believe-ancient history. So believing Muslims don't need to argue with mainstream scientists and historians.

3. There's less "crazy stuff."
Judaism has lots of crazy stuff, eruv tavshillin, kappores, sha'atnez, wacky holidays, etc. And we also get really OCD. Open up a Shulchan Aruch and you'll be amazed at what the rabbis think up. Muslims have "normal" rituals (relatively). No crazy long prayers that are impossible to pay attention to. No writing scrolls that nobody's gonna read (think tefillin and mezuza). No refraining from electricity to help you "rest."

I don't know if this really does justice to issue. I think there's a more underlying and more essential property of Islam that appeals to me, but this is the best I can come up with.

N'nu, Yiddish is always better.

2009-06-09T19:06:00.003-04:00

This heimishe yungerman declares: if you think someone has been molested, don't waste time with the rabbonim. Take it straight to the police. In the past we have relied on the rabbonim and askanim (activists) to deal with the epidemic of abuse. And they did a lot--they protected the abusers' reputations.

If you understand Yiddish, check out the link above. If you don't, you can hear a much less juicy version in English.

Once we're talking about abuse, here's a vitally important email I got:
Some of you might know that there was a serious upset in the NY State legislature today (http://www.nytimes.com/2009/06/09/nyregion/09switch.html), which makes it even less likely for the Markey Bill to be passed. According to the SFJ blog (http://survivorsforjustice.blogspot.com/), what this means is that the main person who has the ability to get the bill passed is Senator Dean Skelos, the presumptive Senate Majority Leader. Therfore, if anyone is able to, it is vitally important that they contact Senator Skelos to impress upon him the importance of getting this bill passed into law.

I'll just quote the blog post here:

Today's surprise upheavel in the New York State Senate puts the fate of the Child Victims Act of New York (the "Markey/Duane Bill") in the hands of Senator Dean G. Skelos of Long Island. Senator Skelos has been supportive of some legislation designed to protect our children yet may be opposed to the Markey/Duane Bill.

Please call Senator Skelos' office and tell him that you are a supporter of the Markey/Duane Bill and that you are counting on him him to allow it to the Senate floor for a vote. Explain that you and your neighbors will support any member of the Senate who votes in favor of the Markey/Duane Bill and will likewise vote against any Senator who chooses to play politics with our children's lives by voting against a bill that protects children.

Senator Skelos needs to hear from us daily in order to understand how important this bill is to our children.

Albany Office
Legislative Office Building
Room 907
Albany, NY 12247
Phone: 1-518-455-3171

District Office
55 Front Street
Rockville Centre, NY 11570
Phone: 1-516-766-8383
Email: skelos@senate.state.ny.us

Some Muslims are cool.

2009-06-05T09:58:00.001-04:00

Like this one, who converted a robber to Islam and gave him free food and money.

Hatip to Mottel.

Facts are stubborn. Hasids are stubborner.

2009-05-31T21:21:00.004-04:00

You always gotta respect other people and their opinions. But when you're in your own bedroom, lying in your underwear, I think you can voice all your nasty thoughts about others. If some nut wants to listen in on your private conversation with yourself, that doesn't make you rude. I'm now talking to myself. If you folks want to listen in, that's your issue.

Every morning, we bless G-d for not making us a Goy, a slave, or a woman. Straightforward blessing. Yay God: He didn't make me a woman.

I have an issue with the phenomenon of clearly defined halachos getting pushed aside by minhagim which we do because "azoy firt men" ("that's how we do it") or because that's how the Rebbe did it. The prime example is was davening shacharis right before sundown, after waking up at noon and kratzing around until six.

But yesterday I heard one the really took the cake. Get this: in beis harav the women say "shelo asani isha." I suppose I wouldn't want to posit that I know better than the ladies of beis harav. But this certainly looks like one of those beis-harav-only minhagim. Whatever.

Anyhow, this chassidisheh maidel who was telling me this, explained to me the reason: the beracha is for the extra mitzvos we get. That's why an eved ivri says "shelo asani eved." He's not free, but he has all the mitzvos of a freeman. (The "eved" mentioned in the beracha is an eved Kena'ani.) Now a woman could do all the man's mitzvos. Therefore she can thank G-d for giving her the opportunity to do said mitzvos, by reciting said beracha.

My first reaction was "PUUUUUULLLEEEEEEZZ." But I understand that that does not an intelligent response make. So I'll try to support and defend my initial gag.

1. A woman--even in beis harav--does not do all the mitzvos a man does. Did you, aidel maidel, ever put on tefillin? wear tzitizis? Do you say krias shema b'zmana? Do you eat in the sukkah religiously? Do you have your own seder plate at the seder? Do you light your own Chanukah menorah and make kiddush for yourself? Technically you could do all these things. But you don't. When Rashi's daughters want to say "shelo asani isha," then we'll talk.

2. Actually, we won't talk even then. Doing everything a man does will not make you obligated to do everything a man does. Sorry daughters of Rashi. It's "she'asani kirtzono" for you.

3. Suppose you'll say, "forget about obligations. Look at what the lady is actually doing." To this I say, the blessing is for G-d making you the way you are. Even a ger, who is a full-fledged Jew, does not say "shelo asani goy" (according to the non-kabbalistic opinions mentioned in the Alter Rebbe's Shulchan Aruch 46:4) because he was indeed created a Goy. Certainly a woman, who was created a woman and always will be a woman (to quote the Alter Rebbe, "A woman cannot become obligated in all the mitzvows like a Goy who can convert and a slave whose master can free him" [ibid. 5]) can't thank G-d for not making her a woman.

By the way, in case you folks are wondering what "she'asani kirtzono" means, the Alter Rebbe says it is "k'mo shematzdik alav es hadin al hara'ah" (loosly translated as "like one who declares the justice of G-d's seemingly evil judgement.") The expression "tzidduk hadin" ("declaring the justice of God's judgement") is usually used in connection with someone's death. So you know what kind of "evil judgement" being a woman is.

Millionaires Go Missing in Maryland

2009-05-26T21:00:00.001-04:00

All the conservatives can say, "I told you so."