NYC Blog?!

2011-12-07T13:11:00.001-05:00

I Just finished reading:

A Republic, If You Can Keep It (buy here on Amazon and I get a cut)

I've found it prescient. It was written in 1972, yet speaks to many issues of the day, such as Occupy Wall Street and our stalled congress. I thought I'd share an excerpt from the book's closing chapter, enjoy:

...Itis not belief in or loyalty to the status quo that is essential to responsiblecitizenship. It cannot be overstated: wemust believe in the purposes for which the government as created; thedemocratic process by which those purpose can be achieved; and a commitment toan open society with individual liberty, political freedom and equalopportunity for every citizen.

Wemust believe in law because where there is no law there can be no freedom,particularly for the less advantaged members of society. When law breaks down, anarchy prevails. We must look at law, however, not only as aninstrument of authority designed to punish but as a means for declaring what isright and prohibiting what is wrong to provide protection for everyindividual.

Theresponsible citizen does not live in isolation. He recognizes that he is a part of a community, a state and a nation,and that in playing his part he must act in relation to, and with considerationfor, all others. His relation to hisgovernment, then, is not exclusive-it is shared with all others on an equalbasis. That means that is we are to beuseful none of us can be arbitrary and insist upon everything being done to ourliking. There must be an underlying appreciation for the necessity oftolerance. As our Founding Fathers understood, even when our country was smalland homespun in its way of life, there was a need for adjustment and compromiseto bring the nation into being with a reasonable prospect of success. Now inour greatly enlarged society, every citizen must recognize the infinitelygreater necessity to adjust his thoughts and actions to those of thecommunity.

I'd be curious to hear people's thoughts on these ideas, please share them.

The Faces of OccupyWallStreet

2011-10-09T18:51:00.001-04:00

Click Here to view as a slide show

Found Ger(w)aldo

The Drum Circle

Ominous...

Jimmy McMillan Himself. The rent is not all that's too damn high!

You can't close your eyes to the Revolution, Corporate America!

Proof OWS are not ALL dirty hippies...

Ah the Accordion, Traditional Instrument of the Revolution

Who Can Argue with That?

"American Stock Exchange"

On an Occupied WallSteet: A Solution

2011-10-06T18:20:00.001-04:00

Howmight the OccupyWallSreet movement effect the changes they seek in the Americansystem?

To start, by leveling the economic playingfield. The current system requires manufacturers within the US tomeet pollution, labor, wage, healthcare and other standards. Thesestandards impose costs on manufacturers, with the intent of benefitingsociety. These standards of manufacturing are not required for goodsimported from abroad. America has thus imposed a double standard,and the American worker suffers as a result of thiscontradiction. In the US hourly compensation for production workerswas $23.82 in 2006, compared to around $8.00 an hour in Asia (Source). Notto mention the staggering environmental compliance costs. Why build American when there are far lesscostly foreign alternatives? Competitionalmost requires corporations to avail themselves of these alternatives.

Asolution to the complaints put forth by OccupyWallSreet might be found inadvocating for the implementation of regulations requiring that all importedgoods meet the same standards as those goods manufactured within the US. This would level the economic playing fieldand encourage better working conditions across the globe. Corporations export or avoid much of the costof production by manufacturing and importing from aboard, including significantenvironmental costs. This solutionencourages a higher environmental standard as well.

Byrequiring basic pollution, labor, wage and similar standards for all importedgoods, America could solve its unemployment woes. By leveling the playing field, not only wouldthe US raise the global manufacturing standard, it would make its own workerscompetitive again. Just as cars mustmeet safety and pollution standards to be sold within the US regardless ofwhere they are built, so too all goods should meet the basic working andmanufacturing standards required here.

Written in conjunction with Larry Grange. We would appreciate any comments on these thoughts.

Short Story

2011-08-28T02:19:00.000-04:00

I wrote this in college. I thought it timely to post now, what with a hurricane about:

Andrew’s Sacrifice

By: A.F. Grange

Andrew cruised northward across the Atlantic. Winds propelled him while his one clear eye searched out across the ocean. A growing hunger welled up in him, as he had yet to find satiation.

In a darkened room in Florida City, near Miami, a man sat and listened to the patter of raindrops at the window. Deep in thought, he absent mindedly rubbed his thumb across his chapped lips. A weeks worth of pills lay on a circular table before him. They were organized into an intricate spiraling pattern. He leaned forward and adjusted a yellow, tubular shaped pill a fraction of an inch.

The rain brings him...it’s the rain that brings him.

His head jerked to the left slightly, as his body slowly rocked back and forth. He continued to rub the dead skin around his mouth with one hand, while the other presided over the pills. Sores had stared to open up at the corners of his lips. He registered none of this.

Somewhere in his consciousness a T.V. droned.

“Andrew has just been upgraded from tropical storm to hurricane status. It is definitely growing in strength,” a news anchor said. “All of southern Florida is under full evacuation, as the storm’s projected path takes it directly over Miami…”

He will be here soon. I must prepare for his arrival.

She must be prepared.

The man stood up and walked to the window. He opened the faded curtains to reveal a bleak urban scene. He gazed up at the grey clouds and tried to follow the individual rain drops with his eye. They whispered to him. Without looking down, the man reached into his pocket and pulled out a phone. He pressed two and put it to his ear.

Susanne tried to ignore the gloom around her. She knew the rain was only a scout for the infinitely more powerful storm behind it, but she ignored the anxiety this thought caused to well up in her.

“Why, all this rain will help my garden,” she thought and looked out her living room window at her soaked flowers. Even they looked depressed to her. She sighed despite herself.

“Well, I can get some reading done at least.” She picked up her book from the brown coffee table in front of her, but before she had a chance to escape into it, the phone rang.

“I wonder who that is.” She picked up the phone and said, “Hello?”

“Hi,” said a voice that sounded as though it had not been used in a while.

“Hi. You don’t sound so good. Is everything all right?”

She heard a throat being cleared. “I-I’m just nervous” said the voice at the other end.

“About the storm?” she asked.

After a pause came, “Yes.” The man’s voice sounded far away in the telephone receiver.

“Do you want come over here?” My house is solid brick, much safer than your place,” Suzanne said, “Maybe you’ll feel better with some company.”

“Yes. That would be best,” she heard the voice say.

“Ok, I’ll see you soon,” she said.

Susanne hung up the receiver and stared out the window. The rain hypnotized her. The falling drops seemed to intensify as she stared. Her eyes glazed over as she fell deeper into thought.

Should we evacuate? What if this storm is dangerous? He better be careful driving in these conditions…

After shaking away the hypnosis, Suzanne got up and went into her kitchen. She still felt slightly entranced, as if only recognizing her actions a moment after they occurred. She soon found herself sitting at her kitchen table, drinking a cup of tea while staring out at the grey day.

The winds urged Andrew towards Florida. There he could fill his growing need. There he could find satisfaction.

“Why are you doing this?” Suzanne said to the man she thought she had known well. He made no answer. She struggled against the ropes that bound her arms and legs. Outside, the wind and rain pounded loudly against the window, while debris was propelled down the street. A low pitched growl was barely perceptible as the storm moved ever closer.

When he first arrived at her house, Suzanne thought the ropes he carried were for securing the windows or something. When he rushed her she was caught off guard and fell to the floor. He quickly used the ropes to tie her instead.

“Please, just untie me,” she said as she wrestled against the ropes, “Why are you doing this?”

The man moved to her head where he tied a red bandana around her eyes. She screamed in fright.

“Don’t make me gag you too. He wouldn’t prefer it that way,” was the last thing she heard before darkness enveloped her. The man started to drag her out the door and into the back yard.

The craving that began to gnaw at Andrew abated slightly as he made landfall. He progressed slowly across the southern tip of Florida, consuming all that lay before him, like a hungry man at an all you can eat buffet. His great twisting arms reached out and slammed against the buildings and trees in his path. Windows shattered and power lines whipped about in agony. Andrew found satisfaction.

Outside in a beautiful sunny day, Suzanne ran around her house to her driveway where the man’s car was parked. It was strangely untouched by the storm. She knew the calm weather was temporary and would last only as long as the storm’s great eye stared down at her. She felt strangely as though someone was watching her. This she explained away as paranoia from the terrible incident she just narrowly escaped. She was still in shock as she drove away as quickly as she could, while swerving to avoid the strewn wreckage.

“What was the matter with him?” she thought to herself. In her panic to escape, Suzanne failed to notice the mound of pill bottles in the passenger seat beside her. After she made a particularly violent swerve to avoid an up turned dumpster, the bottles rolled about and caught her attention. She picked one up.

“He was on medication? I had no idea…”

This partially explained why her backyard looked like a scene from a sacrificial ceremony. She would never figure out, though, how a shard of flying glass both cut her ropes without breaking her skin and also killed her attacker. It was as though some unseen hand purposely set her free. The man she once thought of as a friend, lay mutilated in her back yard, as though some ravenous beast had consumed him. Suzanne clicked the radio on to find out more about the storm and take her mind off that terrible image.

Over the static she heard, “Andrew has veered slightly southward, only hitting the southern most part of Miami. The storm’s eye seems to have stalled somewhat over Florida City, as it makes its way back out to sea. For those of you left in the area, remain indoors. The storm is not over, repeat, stay in doors.”

Suzanne brushed away matted hair from her face with one hand as she drove. Tears began to fall down her wet cheeks. She knew not where to go; only that she needed to get away from the sickening scene and into some kind of shelter. There was little choice of direction for her in any case, as some intersections were blocked entirely by rubble and others were left clear. It was as though someone laid out a specific path for her to follow.

After driving under clear skies for a half an hour, Suzanne found herself at a hurricane shelter where she parked her car and ran inside. There she survived the remainder of the storm. She emerged to start sorting out the confusing events of the past hours and the rest of her life.

Finally sated, Andrew sailed back out to sea and expired. He gave one last satisfied sigh. The last thing his single great eye beheld was the thin, white backbone of coast receding behind him.

Central Park Discovery

2011-08-15T15:00:00.000-04:00

I saw this in Central Park the other day and wondered what it was:

I wonder if it's related to this (reblogged from boingboing):

19th-c. African-American village unearthed in what is now NYC’s Central Park: "

Just a few months ago, anthropologists and historians finally received permission from the city of New York to begin digging in an area of Central Park (near 85th Street and Central Park West): a critical step in a decades-long quest to reveal the history of an African-American community destroyed in the 1850s by the creation of Central Park. From a New York Times article (published a couple weeks ago):

While the borings of the past produced just a few artifacts, the dig [ which ended on July 29, 2011—XJ ], generated 250 bags of material that should keep the scholars busy for months, if not years. The work on Wednesday alone yielded a toothbrush handle fashioned of bone and the lid of a stoneware jar.

About two-thirds of the residents of Seneca Village were African-American, while the rest were of European descent, mostly Irish. The community was settled in the 1820s, a few years before slavery was abolished in New York. Despite old news reports that the village was a squatter camp, it was, in fact, made up of working- and middle-class property owners.

More in the NYT, and here is the website for the Seneca Village Project. They have more images and panoramas from the excavation.
From a statement by project co-directors Nan Rothschild (Barnard College, Columbia University) and Diana Wall (City College of New York, CUNY), about the more than 250 bags of artifacts that will now be washed and analyzed in labs:

Best of all, many of these artifacts can be associated with two specific households. We found the foundation walls and many objects from inside the home of William Godfrey Wilson, a sexton for All Angels' Church who lived in a 3-storey home near the church with his wife and eight children, and we excavated the backyard of Nancy Moore's home (later occupied by the Webster family a bit to the southeast.

In the latter area we found the buried surface dating to the period of the Village, the ground on which the Villagers walked and on which they discarded many sherds of broken plates and glass, pieces of smoking pipes and butchered animal bone (apparently mostly beef) which suggests that someone in the Village vicinity was able to do butchering. From this area we hope to be able to recover information on the environment, including plants that were native to the Village and those representing the foods that were consumed there. After the lab analysis is complete we will be able to provide information on the lives of the residents of this community, bringing them into the present and making them part of New York City's known history.
(via Farai Chideya on G+)

Some more on the Gotogography

2011-08-07T19:53:00.000-04:00

Here are some more Gotos:

In the meantime, I've decided to gather like minded Photogs and start a group to share photo related thoughts and aspirations. If you're interested in being involved, let us know!

On the Gotography

2011-08-02T17:21:00.000-04:00

Photography! It feels good to be making photos again, which I have been doing much more of thanks to the discovery of micro-four thirds cameras. They are the way of the future (the way of the future, the way of the future) if you ask me.

They are small enough to carry along, which means more street photography for me. I have some more photos to post shortly.

Revolution Heat Map

2011-02-14T14:09:00.006-05:00

Any Suggestions for this Map I made?

Update: Libya added and Iran darkened to orange.

Update #2: added Djibouti and indicators to places where protesters were fired upon.

Update #3: added Ivory Coast.

Update #4: More places where protesters were fired upon added, and Saudi Arabia darkened to Orange.

The LightLine of Gotham

2010-12-28T23:23:00.000-05:00

Under the Western Wall

2010-02-09T14:33:00.003-05:00

I took this photo on a recent trip to Israel. It's in the tunnels next to the Western Wall.

I entered it into the Terra Plana photo contest. Vote for it here. Last row, middle.

X-Ray Bike

2009-09-24T00:06:00.003-04:00

Here's a great shot by Nick Veasey, I believe:

I like how his head looks like the moon.

The Naked City

2009-07-13T12:32:00.001-04:00

Apocalypse NYC?!

2009-06-18T11:07:00.001-04:00

I woke up to this weather report:

I'll take this rain over that option...

Some NYC Photos

2009-05-31T11:22:00.004-04:00

Here are some photos around the city from the past few weeks. The first is an Empire State building lamppost stand:

This is the top of a pier piling @ sunset:

Looking down @ a table:

Dog Free Lawn fail:

From Ft. Lee:

A great bench near the Intrepid:

And a logo for handicapped horses:

Sun setting under the GWB:

A New York Short

2009-05-15T17:16:00.001-04:00

The YouTube description:

An inventive look at life in the city of opportunity, told by many people through one voice.

Mapping Swine Flu in NY

2009-04-28T11:29:00.003-04:00

I centered this on NY, but you may have to zoom in or look around for just the incidients in the city.

View H1N1 Swine Flu in a larger map

I wonder why there haven't been any in Maimi, or FL generally...my guess is that's going to be the next area hit. I don't mean to add to the hysteria of this new disease (which will probably turn out like the other's of late), I'm just expressing my apprecaition for this neat map.

Post Apocalyptic NYC?!

2009-03-18T09:22:00.004-04:00

Here's a scary image that captures my apprecation of all things post-apocalyptic and my love of NYC:

I'm not sure how accurate it is, but it definitely makes a point.

From Treehugger via here.

Third Avenue El

2009-03-06T15:47:00.003-05:00

Enjoy this slice of a bygone life. It's a video of the old Third Avenue El train that captures the experinece of riding the old elevated train, as well as life in NY in mid-century:

To find out more, check out the Wikipedia ariticle, which includes this relevant bit of information:

"...the Third Avenue El, which was intended to stay in use until the Second Avenue Subway was built to replace it. However, government bureaucracy and pressure from private developers, eager to redevelop Third Avenue, forced the closure of the El prematurely with no adequate subway replacement, leaving residents on the East Side of Manhattan with the overcrowded IRT Lexington Avenue Line as the only subway east of Fifth Avenue."

I wonder if they would have been so eager to demolish it if they had known it would take so many years to start the Second Avenue Subway...

Update: Art in the Streets

2009-02-03T11:20:00.003-05:00

I've been meaning to mention this for a while, but Curbed commented on some of the street art from the last post. Curbed was tipped off by Vanishing New York, who seems to think the "tape skyline" was created by Aakash Nihalani.

Follow the links for an interesting story about a buidling closed because of a fire, reborn through spontaneous artistic expression, and then slated for demolation to make way for a new building.

Art in the Streets

2008-11-14T09:01:00.006-05:00

Here's some photos I took of street art from around the city over the past few weeks:

That was from this truck:

This next one I've been watching grow over the past few months, starting w/just the red painted over the bricks, then successive taggings, a shiny gold portrait, and most recently, a tape skyline appeared:

Art as its own organic growth.

This last one might better classified as window art:

10 Points to anyone who knows where any of these were taken (hint: all between 15th and Houston).

Obama Beats McCain in Google Searches

2008-08-05T00:01:00.001-04:00

I was curious what Google had to say about the two presidential candidates. Here's a comparison of their search frequency over the past 30 days:

See for yourself. Anyone think this is a predictor of future election results? Maybe I'll check out Obama v. Hillary in the months leading up to his party win...

A Governors Island Photographer

2008-06-22T01:23:00.002-04:00

I found this here:

Sweet Ride

2008-06-13T00:01:00.003-04:00

Here's a great bike I see occasionally parked on 5th Ave. Every time I see it, it makes me want to go for a ride:

Today Near Union Square

2008-05-13T16:48:00.002-04:00

Here's a shot I took today on 14th Street:

Poor guy, couldn't even afford pants, or an upper body. Great socks though...

United States of Cement

2008-04-30T23:32:00.002-04:00

This is a portrait of America, both depressing and beautiful, by Ben Fry. The map is composed of only streets, without any other markings. Geographical features are evident from the absence of roads, where there's water or mountains, while development is evident in the darker areas where there are more roads. It's worth a trip to the site for a closer look.

When Grand Central Was Younger - New York Times

2008-03-31T14:22:00.000-04:00

Click here to view an interesting article and slide show about "When Grand Central Was Younger" in the New York Times

Something New and a New York-Centric World Map

2008-03-18T00:28:00.004-04:00

I'm trying something new. This is a program I found through LifeHacker that lets you share websites and add your own comments to them. The comments appear in yellow.

Here's what I wanted to share:

Click here to view an annotation of radicalcartography

If you don't want to click through, here's what you'd find:

It's like a modern extension of Saul Steinberg's New Yorker cover:

Bike Ride to the Battery

2007-06-10T19:15:00.001-04:00

On Friday I took my usual bike ride down to Battery Park and back. I almost rode north instead, but the sun glinting on the Hudson was too much to pass up.

You can track my progress HERE

I usually just follow the path along the river, but on this ride I followed a curving hill (mountain) at 125th up to Grant's Tomb. It was steep, but worth it for the long glide down to 96th, where I again met up with the path.

This detour was not the highlight of the trip, though, as that wouldn't come until I almost turned back for home. Just as I reached the parking lot near the Staten Island Ferry Terminal, I almost collided with a wild turkey! Here's a photo:

I had heard about him from Curbed, but never expected to see the guy. He looked disheveled, but in good spirits. He found some peanuts to snack on, as he's doing in the above photo. I wonder how he got into the city...

New York in the Spring

2007-04-22T17:45:00.000-04:00

Hi, HERE's a fitting article about spring in New York City from the Times.

The best line:

As befits New York, spring is theater. In other places where troupes of the fit and the comely can also be found, like Miami, Los Angeles and Hawaii, the curtain rarely rises because it hardly ever falls. There, it is always butterfly weather. But in New York, the curtain has drama because the cocoon is never far away.

Remember "Back in Action"?

2006-11-16T00:31:00.000-05:00

Woah, I remember this thing. It's been months, since July I think...I have lots to say, but I'm not going to say it. Instead, watch this:

Manhatta

What do you have to say about it?

Back in Action

2006-07-26T22:35:00.000-04:00

It’s been five months, but I’ve returned. That means I’ve been away for longer than the blog has been active…which means I’m probably just writing to myself, as the few people who knew about YU Blog?! have likely stopped checking for updates by now. I can’t even validate the claim of “A Yeshiva University Student Blog-Bringing Wisdom to the Web”, as I’ve graduated, and I’m thus no longer a Yeshiva University student.

Then again, half of this blog’s active life took place after I stopped taking classes at YU. And I still work at YU, which gives me some claim to write the YU Blog?! Maybe now the question mark and exclamation mark make more sense. When people hear I write a YU blog, they’ll respond with, “You write the YU Blog?!”

Most of those who read this will know why I’ve been gone for so long. For those of you who don’t, check back after a few posts. A lot’s happened in since March and I’m still getting my feet under me. Once YU Blog?! is up and fully running, I’ll tell you all the harrowing tale.

For now I’ll say I’ve moved to the other side of the Heights, where I’ve found a piece of real New York City living. I’ve enjoyed the city ever since I moved here, but never as much as I have for the past few months. Across the street from the A train, respectable bars with live music on the weekends, organic grocery stores and gourmet wine shops all within walking distance. I never minded living on the YU side, until I moved out and realized what I was missing.

I’ve also made another great discovery-my bike. I lived with that thing under my dorm room bed for the first two years of college. I would make it out a few times a year, but I never utilized it as a valid means of transportation. Now it takes me 20 minutes to get to Central Park. It takes less than an hour to get to Battery Park. The island has shrunk significantly.

I’ll write more about my bike some other time, there’s just too much to say to fit in this post. For now, I just wanted everybody (nobody?) to know I’m still here.

Let me know if any of you are still out there.

The Noble Coffee that Was

2006-02-28T00:18:00.000-05:00

I’ve been debating whether or not to tell this story, but I’ve decided its something I must share.

After a struggle trying to decide what to have for dinner the other night, I settled on frozen steak from the kosher store on Amsterdam.  As I ate this perfect meal of beef and potatoes, I got a call from the team.  They wanted to go to the Village.

As it neared time for the shuttle, I stopped by the library for warmth.  I noticed the random café there was open, so I went to buy a coffee.  The lady told me regular coffee cost a dollar, whereas flavored cost $1.10.  From behind the cashier, she could not see the two urns, so I asked her how she knew what people were buying.  She said she only knew what they told her…

After pouring myself a regular cup and filing it with two packs of sugar and some whole milk (instead of the skim, which was also available), I moved the perilously full cup to the register.  My phone rang at the same time I reached for my wallet, so I used each hand to remove them both from my pockets.  Somehow, in the chaos, the coffee cup exploded.

  Light brown coffee spilled over the counter, into the napkin dispenser, under the register.  A small coffee lake formed at my feet.   All in a matter of seconds.

As I rushed to help the lady clean up the mess, I worried about missing the shuttle.  Subways alone are boring.  We worked together to contain the flood and I sheepishly asked her for a free refill, to which she agreed.

My new cup in hand, I boarded the shuttle and sat down to enjoy my hard earned drink.  As I took my first sip, I smelled the milk and realized I had eaten meat not 45 minutes before.  I suddenly knew why the first cup committed suicide.  It was to save me from eating milk after meat.

I didn’t want to sit with a full cup of coffee the whole way down to Stern, so I stood up and asked the full shuttle if anyone wanted some coffee.  A girl in the back asked if it was caffeinated, which I thought was kind of a dumb question.  “Very,” I said, and turned around to offer the drink to the driver.  He looked at me as if I was offering him a bribe or something, so I changed my offer to, “Would you at least throw it out.”

He did, and my ride down was uneventful.  The events to follow have their own tale to tell.  But when I think back on that night, I can’t help but to reflect on that poor cup that gave its life to better my own.

An End and a Beginning

2006-02-20T20:28:00.000-05:00

I’d like to take a step aside (maybe forever) from my German recollections and tell everyone about two things that have come to my attention.  The first is the end of an era –Dougie’s on 72 street has closed.  I would have thought YU orders alone could have kept the place open, but it seems hungry YUers were not enough.

Not to worry though, the chain still has a presence in Manhattan.  There is a Dougie’s Express at 74 W. 47th Street.  I never went there often, but every once in a while I crave their pastrami burger.  It’s good to know I can still get one in the city.

I would also like to share with everyone a book my friend Elan Mosbacher just published.  Here is the official blurb:

Sticking to Israel: Israeli Society Through Bumper Stickers is a coffee table book with photographs of hundreds of political bumper stickers, graffiti, and posters, complemented by translations and related pictures. The book shares many opinions that the media rarely addresses including conflicting, politically incorrect, and humorous political and religious assertions. The book portrays Zionistic, anti-Zionistic, right wing, left wing, political party, politician specific, army, religious, Nachman, Chabad, and miscellaneous themes of bumper stickers, graffiti, and posters from around the country. Arabic and Chinese bumper stickers from Israel are also included in the book.

And here are some rave reviews:

"Sticking to Israel presents to an English-speaking audience a unique look at Israeli political culture on the ground. The book is an invaluable source of material for understanding the quotidian experience of Israelis -- how politics comes to them on the street, and how they go about expressing their views in the visual marketplace of everyday life. And besides, the images collected here are a fun reminder of the vibrancy  -- and outspokenness -- of Israeli democracy."
Dr. Eric Zakim,
Asst. Professor
of Hebrew Language and Culture
At the University of Maryland.

"Sticking to Israel is an unvarnished look at life on the ground in Israel today and, while its wisdom may derive only from bumper stickers, it's helpful especially to Americans who have a hard time taking the pulse of Israel."
                              -Stephen J. Dubner,
New York Times Journalist and
Co-Author of Freakonomics

Finally, here is an article about the book.  I’m sure Elan would be interested to hear what everyone thinks about his project.  Feel free to comment about it.

Germany III: Sachsenhousen

2006-02-06T21:01:00.000-05:00

Since Blogger only seems to like one photo per post, I've decided to sum up my German recollections in one photo or less (per recollection).

This shot sums up our trip to the Sachsenhausen Concentration Camp more than any other photograph. Noah, whom I called Noaher, took a longer path than the rest of the group as we walked through this part of the camp. He appears isolated between two white voids, the first is the snow and above him is the sky.

The setting and his contemplative posture reflects how I felt that day. The terror that occurred at Sachsenhousen made me feel isolated. At the same time, I felt compelled to think hard about what it meant to be there.

I thought about how many people did not approve of a YU trip to Germany. Many people wouldn't even buy a German car…As I walked through the camp, I came to the realization that the best way to stick it to the Nazi's is to go to Germany and live as a Jew.

At first, I thought it would be hard to travel by train on German soil because of what our ancestors had to endure on German trains. But when the group davened on the train, out loud and in the open, I felt a kind of awe. Here was a group of young, Jewish students, praying out in the open in Germany. What would a Holocaust victim have said?

These thoughts reached a crescendo the day after our visit to the concentration camp. We went on a Thursday, so the next night was Shabbat. We went from the depths of tragedy to the joy of all that it means to be a Jew in just a few short hours. We openly prayed, sang and danced on the same ground where our grand and great grandparents feared for their lives.

This juxtaposition, of tragic history and hopeful present (of snowshoeing and remembering) epitomized my experience in Germany. We traveled to learn about the country's terrible past, but with an eye to its future. This made the moment in between, the present, all the more meaningful.

Alps VI

2006-01-26T14:42:00.000-05:00

The shot of the day (one of many). Just to clarify, this photo and those below were meant for the post "Germany?! II: The Alps. For some reason, they wouldn't show up. Blogger must only like one photo per post. Sorry for the confusion, enjoy!

Alps V

2006-01-26T14:37:00.000-05:00

The snow hole.

Alps IV

2006-01-26T14:36:00.000-05:00

Our mountain guy

Alps III

2006-01-26T14:32:00.000-05:00

Here is the snow/ice chips photo.

Alps II

2006-01-26T14:30:00.000-05:00

" Here is the second picture. It was meant to go before the caption, "Dahlia putting on her snowshoe, but is it necessary?".

Let's Try This Again

2006-01-26T14:28:00.000-05:00

I'm not sure why this didn't work, but here is the first picture I wanted to include in the last post. It was meant to go at the beginning.

Germany?! II: The Alps

2006-01-26T12:08:00.000-05:00

The trip started light. After a 7 hour plane ride and an interesting Shabbat with the Munich Jewish community, they took us snow-shoeing in the Alps. This is a shot of the team trekking up a smaller Alp.

At first I didn’t understand the concept of a snowshoe. At the base of the mountain, where we put on the shoes, I walked around in only my regular boots and found no difficulty. I didn’t sink into a snow cave. We’ve all walked on snow before, and without the help of a crazy plastic shoe.

Dahlia putting on her snowshoe, but is it necessary?

I was going to forget the whole snowshoe business and just walk along without the cumbersome things, but I thought I’d go along for the sake of the group. Everyone was doing it, I didn’t want to be a party pooper. If you know me, you know this kind of thinking is contrary to my personality. Maybe it was the lack of oxygen way up in the Alps, or maybe it was the effect of the group starting to cohere…

Whatever the reason, by the time we started up the mountain I was happy to have the crazy plastic things around my feet. As we climbed, the snow got fluffier and deeper. Without the annoying shoes, I would have been struggling to keep up with everyone.

The snow itself was like no other snow I’ve seen before. There were two-inch chips, or crystals of snow/ice sticking out everywhere. Here’s a picture:

I asked our mountain guy:

what had caused this phenomena and he went on for five minutes in German. I then asked our German guide what he said, and she told us that the snow would evaporate at dusk when the temperature would drop suddenly. This vapor would freeze and evaporate repeatedly. The crystals of snow/ice are the result.

The high mountain air, fantastic vistas and crisp temperature shocked us out of any remaining jetlag. I felt energized. This feeling propelled me through the rigorous schedule of the rest of the trip.

One incident on the mountain removed any doubts I may have had about the shoes. Elana Stein, our second in command, fell waist deep into a snow hole:

After I went around to take this photograph, I said to the team, “I don’t understand how that happened-” whereupon I fell into the same trench. I expected the same rush of help that Elana received, but I heard only laughter.

I eventually made it out of the hole and back down the mountain. On the train ride back to Munich I felt groggy from all the clean air and exercise. The shot of the day remained clear in my mind as I dozed off to the quiet, guttural German conversations on the train:

Germany?!

2006-01-25T22:12:00.000-05:00

Well I’m back.  Most of you didn’t know I was leaving, and for that I apologize.  The rest of you know that I’ve been in Germany for the past couple of weeks.  I mooched another trip out of YU.

This makes three.

People ask, “Why Germany?”  And I agree, it wouldn’t be my first choice for a vacation.  Especially this time of year, it was so cold.  I first applied for the trip because it was free.  They could have sent me to the Czech Republic; I didn’t care.

I’m not choosy when someone offers me a free trip.

In retrospect, though, anywhere else would have provided only a mediocre experience.  We had an amazing time, and I think it’s because Germany provided such an intense experience.  Our group went to a concentration camp on Thursday, and then sang and danced in a shuel on Friday.

We snow shoed in the Alps, spoke with German Jewish college students, met with the education ministers about holocaust education, and toured Munich and Berlin.  But more enjoyable than any of these activities was getting to know the group of YU and Stern students who came along for the ride.

They made the trip the incredible experience I’ll remember.

We had as much fun on a seven-hour train ride as when we did any of the other activities.  At first, I thought we could have been anywhere and cohered as well.  In thinking back, though, only in Germany could we have become “The A Team” and eventually, “The Gemeinda”.  The intense experiences we shared were bonding.

I’m curious to know how the Honduras group fared.

Stay tuned for photos and stories.  And good luck with the first days of class.

The Space Inside Our Heads

2006-01-04T20:32:00.000-05:00

We start the day in our room, generally behind closed doors.  As we become more animate, we expand into other rooms of the house.

When we start out for class, the world we occupy balloons into the outdoors.  Space inflates and contracts as we move throughout the day.

At the end of the day, this all happens in reverse.  The expansive outdoors, the smaller world of the home, the bedroom.

We crawl into bed and eventually close our eyes.  We now enter the smallest and the most expansive space of the day, the space inside our heads

We take the space of our heads with us everywhere, of course.  Yet the spaces of the outside world often distract us from the tiny expanse behind our eyelids.

I once got claustrophobic from the thought that I was stuck in my own head.  I think I was daydreaming during a MBP shiur at the time.

Try exploring the world behind your eyelids during the day.  Sit for 20 minutes without opening your eyes (don’t fall asleep).  I don’t mean “discover yourself” or anything metaphoric.  Literally check out the places inside your head.  I’m not sure how else to explain it.

It’s the smallest and the most expansive space of the day.

Another Article

2006-01-03T20:24:00.000-05:00

CNN.com - Gaza spirals into lawlessness - Jan 2, 2006: "It appears as if Gaza has degenerated into anarchy."

Here's another article for controversy. I look forward to hearing what everyone has to say.

Still Here

2006-01-02T21:40:00.000-05:00

Just so no one forgets about YU Blog?!, here is a photo to ponder. I expect to be posting regularly again, now that I have emerged from my self-imposed, work related hibernation.

I'd like to thank the posters who took part in the previous controversy about the NY times article. I'd also like to add that my mother phoned in to comment. It is her opinion that "Cultural Judaism" has no future, because it provides no continuity for future generations. One person's definition of Judaism may work for that individual, but without the tradition of Moses to carry the religion, it will fail.

Thanks again to everyone that commented. I look forward to hering more from you in the future.

Let's Try this Again

2005-12-25T01:53:00.000-05:00

Looks like the experiment from a couple of days ago didn’t work. Here’s the article in full, I’m still interested in what you all think.

A Happy Hipster Hanukkah
By STEPHANIE ROSENBLOOM (NYT) 1775 wordsPublished: New York Times, December 15, 2005
''HELLOOOOOOOO Jews!'' the M.C. shouted to the 1,000 or so people sipping drinks and jostling elbows in the hazy purple light of Crobar, the Chelsea club, on Sunday evening. Disco balls twinkled. Electric menorahs glowed. In the candlelighted V.I.P. area, people bit into chocolate Hanukkah gelt. From a stage on the dance floor Rachel Dratch of ''Saturday Night Live'' bemoaned being Jewish at Christmastime, and Triumph the Insult Comic Dog, the foul-mouthed puppet, belted out a joyous rendition of ''Shalom Aleichem.'' It was not long before people were waving their arms above their heads and lobbing inflatable dreidels through the air like beach balls.
There was a name for this merriment: ''A Jewcy Chnukah,'' a freewheeling celebration of the holiday produced by Jewcy, a group that brings together young Jews through celebrity-filled events. (Proceeds from Sunday night went to Natan, a philanthropic organization that supports projects that engage young Jews in their religion and heritage.) At the end of the evening, which included performances by the rocker Perry Farrell and the cast of ''The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee,'' Jon Steingart, a founder of Jewcy, peered down at the packed dance floor. ''This,'' he said, ''bodes very well.''
''A Jewcy Chanukah'' is but one of many kitschy celebrations that in the past few years have made comedy as much a part of Hanukkah as latkes and sour cream. The irreverent and sometimes R-rated Hanukkah productions, popping up during what many people have called a Jewish hipster moment, are largely a reaction to what many Jews say is an overwhelming amount of Christmas hoopla. Their humor-laden productions attract thousands of young Jews (some of whom have never gravitated toward their own culture before) and, perhaps inadvertently, raise the question of what it means to be Jewish.
''We have 12 months of the year to assert our Jewish identity, so why now?'' said Rob Tannenbaum, one half of the variety show ''What I Like About Jew.'' ''The time of year that I feel most like a minority group is Christmas.''
Mr. Tannenbaum said he tries to convey his feelings to his Christian friends by asking them to imagine this: ''Everywhere you go strangers say to you, 'Merry Ramadan.' Anywhere you go you can't get into a store because people are bowing to Mecca. You'd be an angry minority. You'd be like, 'Enough of this Ramadan all ready.' ''
Christmas has gotten out of hand, said Jackie Hoffman, who is starring in ''Chanukah at Joe's Pub,'' a one-woman show. ''No one does 'The Sukkot Revue,' '' she said, referring to the autumnal Jewish holiday, ''because then we're not being badgered.''
Some Jews feel Hanukkah, which begins this year at sundown on Dec. 25, is the perfect time for comic relief because it is not a significant holiday. ''We don't do this with Yom Kippur and Rosh Hashana,'' said Joshua Neuman, the editor in chief and publisher of Heeb magazine. ''There's an added comedic value in that we know it is largely the result of American commodity culture.''
Hanukkah is a minor, generally child-centered holiday that celebrates the victory of the Jews over the Syrian Greeks around 165 B.C. No classic Hanukkah films or ballets were inspired by it. There is no ''Miracle on Hester Street,'' no ''Radio City Hanukkah Spectacular.'' Jewish songwriters have been more inclined to compose Christmas songs, including many of the most beloved: ''White Christmas'' (Irving Berlin), ''The Christmas Song: Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire'' (Mel Torm ) and ''We Need a Little Christmas'' (Jerry Herman), to name but three. Adam Sandler's 1995 ''Hanukkah Song,'' in which he enumerates Jewish (and semi-Jewish) celebrities, is the closest thing to a mainstream Hanukkah tune.
''I think Sandler was the catalyst for a lot of this,'' said Robert Smigel, the voice (and hand) behind Triumph, after his performance on Sunday. ''A lot of that was him asserting himself as a Jew.''
In 1997 the creators of ''South Park'' mined the potential agony of being a Jewish child during December with the lament, ''It's Hard to be a Jew on Christmas.'' By 2003 T-shirts that read ''Jewcy'' were selling like potato hot cakes, and Jewish hip-hop went from a simmer to a boil. On Monday VH1 will attempt to understand why Judaism is all the rage with a pop culture special called ''So Jewtastic.'' An excerpt from the show's press material reads, ''In an age when Madonna demands to be called 'Esther,' Jon Stewart is a sex symbol and seemingly everyone speaks a little Yiddish, it's never been hipper to be a Jew.''
Chris Mazzilli, the owner of Gotham Comedy Club, said its annual ''A Very Jewish Christmas'' is one of its most successful shows. This year he expects about 800 people, up from about 400 last year.
''For us it was a lot easier six years ago,'' Mr. Tannenbaum said. ''There was a lot less competition on Christmas Eve. It was us or the Matzo Ball. Our only competition was a bunch of pathetic Jewish singles trying to drink enough Manischewitz to forget that they were probably going to be alone on New Year's Eve.''
This year ''What I Like About Jew'' will have its largest tour ever, a six-city romp around the East Coast. ''Like most other trends,'' Mr. Tannenbaum said, ''the Jewish holiday hipster started in New York and has spread outward.''
The movement is likely to only go so far, said Rabbi Marc Gellman, part of ''The God Squad,'' an interfaith cable television show, and a Newsweek.com columnist. ''This revival is primarily a New York-L.A. thing, and it's the result of the fact that the only geographical region that has a majority of Jews outside Israel is Manhattan,'' he said. ''If you live in Wichita, the new hip Jewish movement will never reach you.''
That these Hanukkah shows tend to be the product of secular Jews also keeps the mood light.
Over the last three years more and more young Jews have been flaunting their heritage, donning T-shirts that proclaim their Semitic roots, listening to the Hasidic reggae singer Matisyahu and climbing onto the celebrity-driven kabbalah bandwagon. And though many occupy the same Lower East Side walk-ups that their grandparents once did, they are not interested in quietly assimilating. They identify more with the cultural trappings of Judaism -- the music, the cuisine, the humor -- than with the teachings of the Torah.
''We ourselves are less observant Jews, but we are still very culturally Jewish,'' Mr. Steingart of Jewcy said. The comedian Rebecca Drysdale is of like mind. ''My connection with being Jewish is not a religious one,'' she said. ''It's cultural.''
Mr. Neuman explained: ''There's this emerging sense of new Jewish culture that is self-consciously postdenominational and largely devoid of religious context.''
But those who define themselves as ''cultural'' Jews may alter their definitions over time, Rabbi Gellman said. ''When they have kids,'' he said, ''they'll say: 'What do you mean? Of course my kid will have a bar mitzvah.' '' He also pointed out that while some people call themselves ''cultural'' Jews, ''Judaism defines identity by blood, not by belief.'' Translation: If your mother is Jewish, so are you.
''I think they know very little about Judaism, but they seem to be crying out for some identity,'' said Ms. Hoffman, who has nine years of yeshiva under her belt. ''I don't know if this generation knows much about Sophie Tucker and Mort Sahl and George Jessel. I think they're just grasping for something during such an unbelievable onslaught,'' she said, referring to the Christmas season. It is good that people are grasping, she explained, but added that taking a Judaism class can be worthwhile. ''Investigate before you declare yourself a Jew in name only,'' she said. ''It's not so bad.''
Triumph the Insult Comic Dog riffed on that topic on Sunday night. ''Jewcy is the bold new movement of cool Jews,'' Triumph said, his gravelly voice dripping with sarcasm. ''Yeah, we want to be cool. We're Jews, like the Beasties! We don't want to be nerdy, like Einstein.'' Then he admonished: ''Crack open a Torah. Learn something. That's right! I'm lecturing you bitches!''
The lecture came lovingly gift wrapped in humor, but like many jokes it contained an element of truth. ''It's not just a kitschy subject matter,'' Mr. Smigel said later. ''It can be reduced to that, and that's a fear of the older generation. I feel very lucky that I got to get a real education in the religion.''
Some people do not enjoy the new Hanukkah shows. ''The older generation is often uncomfortable with our performances,'' Mr. Tannenbaum said. ''There is a sense that was common in an older generation that you shouldn't do anything that could be bad for the Jews. Don't be loud. Don't be vulgar. Don't be proud. Blend in. Assimilate. Finish college.''
During the first song in ''What I Like About Jew'' (one of the milder lyrics is ''She puts the whore in hora''), Mr. Tannenbaum said he usually hears ''a chair scraping and a pair of orthopedic shoes leaving the room.''
No such exit was made at ''A Jewcy Chanukah'' on Sunday. After two hours of music and comedy, Perry Farrell mixed the sacred and secular by singing ''Avenu Malkenu'' and ''Jane Says.'' Then he curled his string bean body over a microphone and cried, ''Happy Hanukkah!'' in a voice so joyful, he might as well have shouted, ''Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night.''

The Slow Motion Brain State

2005-12-20T00:15:00.000-05:00

I must be crazy for posting today; I’ve spent the last seven hours writing a paper due this Thursday.  I have another six page paper due Tuesday, and a ten page paper due the Monday after that.

I’ve gone into self-induced hibernation for the next few weeks.

I can only write so much.  After that, my brain starts to work in slow motion.  I’ll sit and change a sentence for five minutes.  I won’t make different corrections, rather I’ll go back and forth between two corrections over and over, each one sounding correct.

It’s at this point I realize its time for a break.

I’ll get up and walk into the kitchen, turn around a few times, and walk back to my desk.  I can usually squeeze out another few sentences, before my brain slows down again.  The longer I write the more walk around breaks I have to take.

This state usually lasts through finals, till next semester.  Sadly, there is no next semester for me, for this is my last at YU.  Part of me will miss the slow motion brain state of finals time.  But really, this time happens every day, just after I wake up.

The morning routine is so engrained within most of us, we don’t even know what were doing.  When I think back to the early morning, all I remember are the words,

“Max Fresh, with Breath Strips”

My best guess is it comes from the words on my toothpaste.  I think I must read and reread it as I brush my teeth.

The only other time the slow motion brain state occurs is just before I fall asleep.  For more on this, see the “Sleep Ramble” post.

A Happy Hipster Hanukkah - New York Times

2005-12-17T23:07:00.000-05:00

I'm not sure how this is going to work. I saw the "Blogger" button on my Google Bar, which I clicked after I read this article. Let the experiment begin.

The article is about Jews becoming hip and celbrating Jew-culture. I've yet to see this around YU, but it may happen...I wonder what you all think about it.

Read it HERE

What's Emerging at Ground Zero

2005-12-13T21:07:00.000-05:00

I’ve been real busy and neglectful of the Blog.  For that I apologize.  Just so you don’t get bored and forget about me, here is an Op-ed I wrote about NYC and Ground Zero:

Ground Zero continues to be a source of fascination.  While the tragedies of 9/11 will always remain a scar on the psyches of New Yorkers and the nation, the physical healing of the site has only just begun.   Insights form New York City history and the modern science of Emergence is helping politicians, developers and engineers rebuild lower Manhattan.
     I applaud the multiplicity involved in Ground Zero’s reconstruction.  The Lower Manhattan Development Corporation (LMDC), a joint state-city corporation governed by a 16-member board of directors, is a sign of great progress for this city.
In the days of Robert Moses, power would never have been distributed this broadly.  Moses alone would have chosen both the reconstruction plan and the contractors.  He would have likely used the opportunity to push through his failed Lower-Manhattan Expressway or Brooklyn Battery Bridge projects.  Or else, he would have replaced the sterile office complex of the World Trade Centers with something even larger.
He would have healed the Ground Zero site with an ugly scar, like the one rusting at the Worlds Fair grounds or like the strangling highways that surround Manhattan today.
     While Mayor Bloomberg and Governor Pataki are currently caught in a power struggle that would have been familiar in Moses’ era, theirs is a more balanced fight than anything with which Moses would have been involved.  The Lower Manhattan Development Board is half appointed by the Governor of New York and half by the Mayor of New York, something to which Moses never would have agreed.
The infighting between our Mayor and our Governor for say over the reconstruction of Ground Zero is a sign of healing in a post-9/11 and post-Moses world.
Moses’ strongest and most successful opponent, Jane Jacobs, intuitively grasped the lessons of the modern science of Emergence.  Emergence is the science of bottom up organization, like that of ant colonies or the human brain.  Jacobs sees cities as operating under these same, self-organizing rules.
In The New Yorker, Jacobs is said to disagree with restoring the grid of streets near Ground Zero.  She said there, “I was at a school in Connecticut where the architects watched paths that the children made in the snow all winter, and then when spring came they made those the gravel paths across the green. Why not do the same thing here?”  Her proposal is right out the textbooks of Emergence.
The developers seem to have accepted Jacobs’ suggestion, at least for Cortlandt Street, where they will construct a multilevel, glass-walled shopping galleria called Cortlandt Way instead of reopening the regular thoroughfare.  This space will increase the random interactions of multiple agents (in this case people) that produce the self-organizing structure of emergent systems.  A regular street limits these interactions, as pedestrians are limited to sidewalks and separated from each other by streets.
The more open nature of the Cortlandt Way mirrors the more open process of development going on in lower Manhattan.  Both are encouraging signs for the future of this great city.

Will it grow back?

2005-12-07T17:59:00.000-05:00

I found myself in Midtown this afternoon.  I was around Stern (not by choice, I was meeting a friend at Mendy’s for lunch) when I remembered that my roommate’s girlfriend had mentioned her hair salon was near Brookdale.  I recalled, as well, how badly I needed a hair cut.  She said it was just across the street.

I hate hair cuts.  They never turn out the way you asked, there’s some stranger poking around with sharp objects near your head, and for weeks after it’s all over, you’ve got that “I just got a hair cut” look.  I’m not a big complainer, but hair cuts drive me nuts.

During my stay at YU, I’ve gone though some harrowing hair experiences.  The first was when I stupidly went to University Cuts, or University Barber, or whatever that sketchy place on Amsterdam is called.  The guy didn’t speak English and there was no antiseptic container for the scissors, only a gross jar.  The best part was half way through, when he said, “Uh…you know the good thing about hair?  It grows back”.  At the time, I thought that to be the worst phrase one could hear when getting a hair cut.

I was wrong.

You’d think I’d learn to stick to English speaking barbers, but no.  On the YU Italy trip this summer I stumbled into a normal looking Italian Barber shop and stupidly thought, “Well, I’ll give it a go, I need a hair cut anyway”.

We somehow negotiated a price, despite the language barrier.  They led me back to one of those sink-chairs and sat me down.  When they had my head back in that awkward sitting up, head washing position, the lights whet dim and crazy, Italian techno music started up.  Strobe lights came on and I felt like that dude from Eurotrip, who was caught in a similarly vulnerable position (though much worse for him).

I was in a daze from all the flashing lights and loud music, but they managed to get me into one of the seats and started to cut my hair.  After some time I began to realize the barber was crazy.  I looked like a chea pet (Tani can testify to this).  The Roman barber mumbled out, “Eh…you like?”

I said, “Well, it’s a little crazy.”

“Eh…this shop is crazy!  The music is crazy!” he said as he leaned in to say quietly in my ear, “And we’re all on the crazy stuff!”

At which point I realized, “It will grow back” was no longer the worst thing to hear from someone cutting your hair.

Actual Lights in the Heights

2005-12-05T18:29:00.000-05:00

Here Josh B., are the lights in the Heights from 186th street. Sorry for the blurriness, it was freezing and I had no gloves. This is a great example of perseverance and a merrier neighborhood.

Lights in the Heights

2005-12-05T00:46:00.000-05:00

Is it sacrilegious to think Christmas decorations are great?  I think people should have colorful flashing lights up all year long.  The trees I can do without, but the lights should stay up.

The best lights in the Heights are on 186th between Audubon and Amsterdam.  It’s this second floor fire escape with Christmas lights hanging all over the place.  Awesome.

I was talking with this dude who said Christmas lights are ok, but only in snow covered suburbs.  He said the lights in the Heights were lame and pathetic.  I told him I think it’s just the opposite.  These Dominicans are doing the best they can.  They’ve got no snow covered yards.  No gently sloping roofs on which to hang their festive gear.  Instead, they jam their few flashing lights into the measly space they have available.  A window, a fire escape, the phone booths…And that makes them all the more festive and merry.  Not merry in the Christmas sense, but merry in the “let’s hang colorful flashing lights outside our windows and on our fire escape” sense.

Which brings me to the movie Elf.  It was just on cable and I guess that’s what made me think about the lights in the Heights.  Will Ferrell running around NYC in an Elf costume just makes you think.  And I realized this snowy time in New York is really one of the best.  Bad Christmas jingles in all the stores, ten times more stupid tourists running all over the place and everyone wants to go ice skating.

This time of year is just different.

This time of year, one can understand Buddy the Elf (“Hi, this is Buddy the Elf, what’s you’re favorite color?”) when he says, “I just like to smile! Smiling's my favorite.”

Venetian Dream

2005-11-29T23:24:00.000-05:00

This is a "digital doodle" I made in class last night. Its two photos I took this summer on the YU trip to Italy.

I was thinking the other day about double exposure pictures, which are two photos taken on the same piece of film. Thus, one shot is overlaid on another with interesting results. I was wondering how to duplicate this in the Photoshop age and this is what I came up with.

The difference is the lack of randomness. Here, each part of both pictures, their various color saturations, etc. have all been decided by the photographer. With film, you never really knew what would turn up till the print was made. I'm a big digital over film advocate, but in this instance, I miss the randomness.

I'm working on a method that might recreate the process of double exposure, with all its randamtivity, but with film. I'll let you know how it turns out. Until then, let me know what you think of this photograph (or is it a photograph, maybe its more like a painting...).

Surviving Thanksgiving II; The Residual Effects

2005-11-27T22:58:00.000-05:00

Well, I’ve made it out alive.  It just got…a little bit crazy these past few days.  But now my roommates have returned, as have most of my friends.  I think things are on the up and up.

I actually made it all the way to midtown for an Estihana sushi roll, veggie egg roll, Sapporo beer and a steak (I told you food was running low, I was hungry.).  I went to see an old high school friend, with whom I go to this particular restaurant whenever she’s in town.

After dinner, when I got on the elevator at 181st street, one of my random stranger friends got on right after me.  This was the kind of random stranger friend that I recognize even before they come up to me to relate intimate details about my life.

As with most of my random stranger friends, I wasn’t sure if I actually knew the guy or not.  I looked for a kippah and saw none, so of course I assumed he was just some white dude living in The Heights.  Then I realized random white people don’t live in The Heights unless they go to YU.

I tried to remember where I knew him from.  As with all my encounters with random stranger friends, I thought back to high school and my early years at YU to try to place him.  No luck.

I started to fear that I had become a random stranger friend to someone else.  What if he only looked like a familiar YU guy, and I really had never met him before?

I tried to catch his eye, maybe jog his memory.  He was in front of me on the elevator, though, so this was pointless.

As we got of the elevator, I decided the past few days in solitary confinement had left me desperate for human contact.  This truly was some random YU guy, and not a relic friend from my past.

But, passing the fruit stand on 183rd (or whatever street that its on); he glanced back and looked me in the eye, as if to say “Yeah, I know who you are.  What are you gonna do about it?”

“Nothing,” I thought, “Its all just residual hallucinations from Thanksgiving”

That’s when I heard him pick up his phone and answer in an Australian accent.  It was GABE! I did know him.  From sophomore year (or something).  Sadly, though, he turned right on 184th and was lost.

Will I see ol’ Gabe again?  Will I ever figure out in what year I actually knew him, or if indeed I was still delirious?  Did I actually leave my apartment at all, or was this all some extended delusion from staying in my apartment too long?

Stay tuned and find out.

Surviving Thanksgiving

2005-11-27T01:33:00.000-05:00

Day 1:

     Its just me.  This extended weekend is a testament to survival.  I’ve packed only the essentials: bread, wine and some chicken.  Oh yeah, I also made soup.  My roommates have gone.  Friends have forsaken me.  The sun sets, I must be off.

Day 2:

      The meals were delicious, but now only a memory.  Hunger sets in.  Should I venture out for some supplies?  No, it’s too cold and I’ve got no cash.  Better to hunker down and feed myself on the warm glow of the television.

Day 3:

     I still haven’t left the apartment.  Cold and inertia keep me indoors.  It’s now past midnight and I’m still not asleep.  Food runs short.

Day 4:

     I’m not sure how much longer I can last.  I’ve forgotten what the outdoors feels like.  I’d open a window, but I’ve grown too weak.  I’m lucky to last the night.  If I haven’t posted anything by tomorrow, send word.

Beaten by the Snapple Beast

2005-11-21T18:01:00.000-05:00

I went to buy a Snapple today.

Simple enough.  I put in a dollar into a vending machine somewhere in the backwaters of Muss (don’t ask what I was doing or how I got there, Muss just seems to absorb you).  I pressed “A1” -- Kiwi Strawberry, delish.

Nothing happened.

I tried A1 again, but to no avail.  I then leaned over and discovered a Snapple from this crazy machine costs $1.25.  No way am I going to pay anything more than a dollar for something that comes out of a vending machine.

I pressed the coin return lever and to my surprise a shiny Sacagawea dollar tinkled out.

“No, effin way,” I thought.

I then proceeded to find another dollar bill to exchange in the machine for a dollar coin.  The machine was on to me though, as this time four quarters crashed into the coin return slot instead.

I kicked the machine.

I fingered through the dollars to make sure I had picked up all four, when I noticed one of them wasn’t a quarter at all.  At least it wasn’t an American quarter.  The damn thing gave me a Canadian quarter.

I kicked the machine again.

Instead of having a few of those neat golden coins in my pocket, I was now out less than the two dollars I had initially invested.  This due to the lesser value of Canada’s useless currency.

As I retold this tale to a buddy of mine, he pointed out the lesson one can learn from such an experience:

“The Snapple machine takes Canadian money.”

If I could safely navigate through the labyrinthine halls of Muss, I would tell you where this Snapple Machine lies.  We could go forth and slay the overcharging beast with our crappy Canada money, and reap the rewards of cheaper drinks.

Alas, these rewards do not merit the risk of eternal wandering in the maze that is Muss.

Cementers

2005-11-17T19:55:00.000-05:00

     So yesterday morning I walked past the sidewalk outside of Schottenstein where some guy was jack hammering.   An hour later, the whole sidewalk was rubble.  There was dirt, New York City dirt.  At first, I thought how neat, that guy is really doing something.  Who else gets to dig around in NYC, the concrete center of the world?
     But today I walked past the same stretch of sidewalk and the same dude was putting the finishing touches on new cement.  After I fought back the urge to stick my hand in it and make an immortal, handprint graffiti, I wondered if he had actually done anything.  What if he just ripped up the sidewalk to lay more sidewalk?  What if that’s how New York sustains itself?  They just pay people to destroy, and then rebuild, its millions of miles of cement.
I guess if this were really true, we’d see these cementers more often.
But still, how do we really know?

Its coming

2005-11-16T22:53:00.000-05:00

Not to write one of those annoying "Oh, the Fall makes me weep and wistful" Blogs, but today was such a warm, Fall day...This picture is to remind us what's to come. No one posted a haiku about the last photo, so i dont expect any for this one either.

Sleep Ramble

2005-11-13T22:30:00.000-05:00

I wrote this a while ago, but it still seems relevant:

     I just want to write and write and I have all these things to say, but the blank page frightens me.  I’ll get a good sentence going, but then the vast emptiness below the page makes me dizzy and I have to stop.  How could I possibly fill up all that whiteness with meaningful ideas?  Then, just to get myself going, I vomit out any passing thought that floats into my head, and try to squeeze out the void below.  Before I know it, I’ve filled some of that void and it becomes easier.
     Then I reread what I’ve spat out and notice that the word “void” is used too many times perhaps.  And then the part that talks about squeezing out the void doesn’t come across how I wanted it to.  Instead of evoking the idea of squeezing your eyes shut when you’re on a precipice, or some rickety bridge, it sounds like I’m trying to squeeze out the whiteness on the page with my words.  Or maybe it doesn’t, am I being too critical?  Will someone read it the way I wanted them too?  This indecision could cripple a man.
     Now that two paragraphs have themselves established, I grope for where to proceed.  Should I transition into some story or anecdote (are those the same thing)?  Should I go on about how its past midnight and that I should be sleeping or else I’ll be too tired tomorrow and since its Monday my whole week will be off, just like the last one and the one before that?  Maybe I should just forget the whole thing and go back to bed like I’m supposed to.  But then I’ll toss and turn like I have been for the past hour or so, just to get up and try to write away my angst.  Where does that angst come from?  Is it all the half thought out ideas from the day coming back to haunt me?  Do they cry out with unfinished business that I’m supposed to complete for them?  Or is it all the tasks I’ve not completed, crying out to be accomplished.  Whatever it is, it’s keeping me awake.
     The whole process of falling asleep is a struggle for me.  My body is tired, I recognize that, but for some reason my mind stays awake, in spite of its best interest to rest.  They say it takes the average person twenty minutes to fall asleep.  Twenty minutes!  I’m lucky to fall asleep in under an hour.  I have various tactics for finding a comfortable position, that’s not the problem.  It’s when I find that position that the trouble starts.  I start to hear the activity in my head.  A broken record of some song I heard in passing during the day.  An image of the snow falling lit up brilliantly by the street light.  The lab practical I didn’t study for.  All these things start to blend together and I feel like an actual blender is twirling in my chest and stomach.  This is not a severe sensation, but it’s just enough to make myself uncomfortable.  So I must switch positions and start the search for another comfortable one.  Then the process repeats.
     Now I look back and admire how much of the void has been converted into meaningful ideas.  Then I wonder if the ideas are truly meaningful, or just rambling.  For the moment I’ll take pride in the fact that the void has been converted into ideas, meaningful or otherwise.  At this I start to worry about a new void that is opening up below.  The next page is just around the corner.  But, after tackling the first page, the second will only be easier.   Unless, that is, I don’t venture further.  If I just end it here, I’ll have no more voids to conquer no self doubt or over usage of the word “void”.  No repetition or misspelled words.  I’ll have a complete story, or set of ideas anyway.  I can jump back into bed with the knowledge that a once blank space has been filled up with something of substance.  That might comfort me enough so that I’ll fall asleep.  That is, unless I start to worry if what I’ve just written has gone no where and said nothing.  Then the page would have been better off left blank.
On turns the blender and the process begins again.

Remember?

2005-11-10T14:32:00.000-05:00

It was so cold today, I thought I'd share this photo I took in Cali. to warm everyone up. (Also to distract people from the controversy over the last post).

Post a Haiku about it and be cool like tani.

The Things You Hear

2005-11-09T19:57:00.000-05:00

Some Freshman I heard today: Are we allowed to take out books from the Library?

I love YU.  Here’s another:

BMP Rabbi:  It’s like the Theory of Gravitivity…

And finally:

Art Teacher:  I can go either way.

City View

2005-11-09T11:04:00.000-05:00

Flat chatoic scene.
Non-commital Neon Signs.
Man takes a right turn.
-tani (Photo By Al)

Random Stranger Friends

2005-11-08T19:23:00.000-05:00

It looks like YU Blog?! has gone public.  I guess that means I’ve graduated to blogging an actual blog.  Blog-tastic.

I’ve still yet to figure out the point of this whole thing, but that will probably surface over time.  My general focus is going to be YU.  Hence the name, “YU Blog!?”  I’ve been here long enough that I should have at least a few things to say about this place.

Over the last four years, I’ve realized a few drawbacks about sticking around one place for too long.  What amazes me the most is how many people I know only because they say “Hi” to me when I see them around campus.  I have no idea who these people are.  Its not like I’ve just forgotten their names; I doubt if I’ve ever known them.

And there are lots of them.  I’m sure everybody knows a few people only well enough to recognize them, but not well enough to know their names.  But I sometimes wonder if I have more friends I know, or more of these random stranger friends who think I know them, when in fact I couldn’t place them for the life of me.

They all have that YU look.  The look that says, “Hey, I’m a YU guy” even in Times Square or some random subway.  Do I look that way? Maybe that’s why they say hi to me in the first place.  Not because they know me, but because I have that YU look that only makes them think they know me…

The problem is they all seem to know my name and other intimate facts about my life.  “So, Alex, how were your holidays?  Did you go to Chicago, or stay in Wisconsin?”  In any other setting that would freak me out.  In the comfort and security of YU, though, I just smile and pretend that we’re old buddies.  “Ya, thank G-d, how were yours?  It’s good to see you.”  Maybe I should be afraid.

It’s come to the point where I can recognize these random stranger friends.  Thus, I can preempt their “Hello’s” with a greeting of my own.  That way, they think I have some idea who the hell they might be.  Sometimes I think about asking them how I know them, or how they know me, or what their fucking names are.  Unfortunately, my charade has gone on far too long.  I’ve been “friends” with these people for too many years to start asking questions now.

Is my memory that bad that I’ve forgotten all these people I once knew in some class, or from some event?  Or are there minions of Grange-stalkers out there who pretend that we’re friends just to freak me out?

If any of you are reading this, just assume that I do, in fact, know who you are.  I don’t want to figure out how I know my random stranger friends at the expense of weirding out my real friends.  And if the truth must be known, I’ve grown attached to both groups.  My real friends are good for what normal friends are good for-support, hanging out, whatever.  My random stranger friends keep things interesting when I walk around campus.

YU wouldn’t be the crazy place it is without both.

Hello

2005-11-01T21:50:00.000-05:00

          Well this is it. I've become one of the millions of Bloggers out there. At this point, I'm only Blogging a diary, because no one knows that YU Blog?! exits, but that's OK. Blogs are just public diaries anyway, so I'm half way there.
            In this inaugural edition of Blog Y.U., the only Yeshiva University student Blog I know about (which isn't saying there aren't any others), I'm going to quote an article I wrote recently for The Commentator. It pretty much frames my thoughts on this school, and might also explain why I'm Blogging about it at all, though who really knows the answer to that.
            Here it is:

"Y.U. sits atop the greatest city in the world.  It provides a thorough Torah education in tandem with high caliber secular studies, like no other institution in America.  Small class sizes provide intimate learning environments and a diverse student body helps to ensure that these environments remain interesting.  This school’s distinguished past is matched only by its hopeful future.

And yet, people complain.

One might say complaints are justified. Over the past three and a half years that make up my stay at Y.U., I have seen the irreplaceable loss of some great educators, such as Rabbi Chiam Eisenstein and Professor Perry Fish.The many complaints regarding Jewish Studies requirements, such as the copious Bible courses required to graduate, come to mind as well.

But people also complain about the food, the tuition, the lack of a co-ed campus, the education; they complain about The Heights, the dorms, and the administration.

People complain too much.

When I feel like complaining about these complainers, I look back at my experiences from the past six and a half semesters and remember that complaining will get you nowhere.Instead of feeling despair when thinking about such problems, Y.U. has taught me to attempt change.

There are grounds for complaint when looking at the few pages that make up the course offerings here, especially when comparing Y.U. to other schools that fill booklets with the courses they offer.I could have complained when I failed to see Photography as an offering from the Art department when I first arrived at Y.U.

Instead, a chance meeting at the 2003 Arts Festival taught me the alternative to complaining. There, I met the former assistant dean, Dean Jesinowski. She commented to me about the high quality of student art at Y.U., specifically regarding photography. Instead of complaining about the lack of photography classes, I pointed out to her that student art could only improve if Y.U. offered more classes in these areas. I told her how I had always wanted to learn photography at the college level. Over the next weeks and months, she, Dean Adler and Professor Lindenthal worked together to bring us the photography department we have today, which could soon include a state of the art digital studio.

This experience taught me about the tremendous resources available at Y.U., many of which are untapped by the student body.I saw Y.U. with new eyes and began to look around for other opportunities that would better my time and experience here.

A second chance encounter led me to another of Y.U.’s great resources, Jim Reckert and Production Services in Belfer. I went to the basement of Belfer, as most students do, to mail a package.I was sending some pictures that I had printed to a relative.One of the many helpful employees there noticed them and mentioned that Production had the capability to print poster size photographs.After much time spent in depths of that building and many prints later, I began work-study there.I value the education I received working there to the same degree as the education I gained from the classroom.

The more I looked at what Y.U. could offer me, the more I saw.

This school of ours actually paid for me to travel to Europe-twice.The Jay and Jeanie Schottenstein Honors Summer Travel Program took me and other students to London and Dublin during the summer of 2004 and to Italy during the summer of 2005.Within a traveling Jewish community, we were able to observe those cultures first hand.No other university in the world could provide that, especially at the cost of a mere three credits per class.

I have taken courses with Professor Paul Glassman that my friends at other schools are jealous of, such as Evolution of the Skyscraper and Art in New York, where students go on field trips almost every class to many of New York’s cultural treasures.

One can look at Y.U. through negative eyes, or one can see Y.U. as a place to cultivate into an environment of opportunity. Experiences such as these are open to anyone enrolled here, if they would only look for them.

Those in need of help seeing what Y.U. can provide should take a short trip to the Academic Advising Office, led by the most helpful Dr. Thea Volpe, which can assist students in finding their own vision of Y.U.’s opportunity.

One can see Y.U. as a homogenous student body; we are all Jews. One can also see the amazing diversity here. There are Americans, French, Australians, Moroccans, Russians, Canadians, Brazilians, and Israelis; there are Modern Orthodox, Chabad, Sephardi, Orthodox, Reform and Conservative Jews. Wonderfully, Y.U. can work for all of these individuals. There are several Jewish study tracks available to meet all of their needs.

The “Y” in Y.U. offers unlimited growth opportunity from many distinguished
Rabbis. While the “U” may not be the same co-ed experience found elsewhere, a short ride on the subway can provide the culturally diverse experience some students might be looking for, one that is un-matched by most Universities in the country. When people complain about the secular classes here, they often forget what a unique opportunity it is to learn directly from a professor in an intimate setting. I am friends with most of my professors, while my friends at other schools often do not have the opportunity to meet their teachers outside of the classroom.

Y.U. will be what you make it. Just as a hot air balloon responds to the amount of energy supplied to it, Y.U. will take one only as high as he is willing to ascend. See Y.U. as a “fake” school, one to get through with minimal effort, and the school will carry you along, but only so high. See Y.U. as the unique place it is, and there will be no limit to the varied experiences available here that will affect the rest of your life."

          For those of you who've made it this far, assuming I tell someone about this whole thing, the above isn't the printed text from the paper. That copy has been edited a bit. This copy is just what I wrote and sent to them...
             Anyway, we'll see where this whole thing goes and where it takes me.
      It's been fun so far.

~Grange

P.S. Thanks to Josh Hoizen for tech support.