Monthly Archives: June 2017

Jerusalem Jubilee

 

Jerusalem Jubilee (Randyjw; June 26, 2017)

 

The concept of “Jubilee” is derived from the laws of G-d handed down to the Jews thousands of years ago and pertains, in its overall aspect, with “release” and “wiping the slate clean”, whether of a bondsman by his master, an unfulfilled repayment of debt, or other specific instances of servitude without remission of one over another. Its occurence happens once every fifty years.

 

In its admittance to the lexicon of the English language, we have subverted its original meaning to stand-in for a substitute, whose new definition is abbreviated to mean a celebration marking the commemoration of an event recurring on a fifty-year anniversary, or something which will occur every fifty years.

 

2017 marks a fifty-year milestone since Jerusalem was recaptured by the Jewish people from its captivity at the hands of Jordan, who had been beaten back, along with their Arab neighbors, in their attack upon Israel in 1948, but who had, nevertheless, managed a toehold in the Old City at the time when an armistice was declared by outside forces. Continued Arab attacks led to the final Jewish push in 1967, which permanently ousted the Arab occupation from the City, placing it into Jewish hands, once again.

 

2017 also marks a centennial anniversary of the November 2, 1917 Balfour Declaration by the British Mandate powers handed their responsibility from the League of Nations to oversee the administration for the disposition of the control of Palestine to the Jewish people, then operating under their governing body known as the Jewish Agency, which is still in existence, today, and which still manages many of the Jewish issues worldwide, such as logistics and settlement to their homes and the return of Jewish refugees/exiles to Israel.

 

Gad Elbaz, an Israeli singer to which I’ve previously linked his beautiful family Passover YouTube video of “Mah Nishtanah” for you to see, will be performing a concert corresponding to this Jubilee and which will benefit the Chabad of Greater Daytona.

 

The event is scheduled for 7:30 p.m. on July 9th at The Fillmore Miami Beach, in the Jackie Gleason Theatre; 1700 Washington Avenue; Miami Beach, Florida, 33139. Doors open 6:30 p.m. Tickets available through Ticketmaster.com.

 

For a preview of his beautiful voice, please see his “Mah Nishtanah” video, again:

 

(https://youtu.be/A1rH7rYuZQE)

 

 

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Randy’s Recipes: Berry Good Granola

Randy’s Recipes: Berry Good Granola (Randyjw; June 25, 2017)

 

Ingredients:

Pitted Dates, pureed (these are Medjool; I bought already prepared date rolls with coconut)

Shredded coconut flakes

Strawberry Yogurt Muffins , crumbled (I used one package of the brand known as “Lil Bites”)

Pomegranate-flavored (or other) dried cranberries (I used a prepared, pre-mixed package with walnuts)

Walnut pieces

 


 

Puree the pitted dates until fairly smooth. Round into small pieces and coat with flaked coconut. Add crumbled muffins, dried pomegranate-flavored (or other) cranberries and walnut pieces. Enjoy! Store remainder (if any!) in airtight container.

 

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Bows

Bows (Randyjw; June 25, 2017)

 

We take for granted

things we see every day

gifts that are given

in myriad ways

and need small reminders

to recall to the fore

just what exactly

those gifts lay in store

So G-d made a way

to remind us of those

He made sure the giftwrap

was tied with a bow

And when days seem dark

and the clouds pour out rain

remember the spark

in the sky once again

violet and indigo

blue, green, and yellow

orange and red

from the clouds like marshmellows

At nighttime,

you just need to look for the “K”

in Hebrew, it’s “Keshet”

in stars that G-d made

It’s also known

by its constellation name

Orion and his bow

for the one and the same

And some say to tie a string

with bunny ears

looped on your finger

to keep memories near

Visual reminders

help bring dear ones nigh

but I never need any

to remember you by

 

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Machaerus Mikveh Unearthed

 

Machaerus Mikveh Unearthed (Randyjw; June 23, 2017)

 

A Jewish ritual immersion pool, known by its Hebrew name of “mikveh”, has been located in the Machaerus palace complex on the eastern side of the Dead Sea, in what some people reference as today’s country of Jordan.

 

Read the interesting articles and see photos, here:

 

JNi Media. “Hungarian Archaeologists Unearth Herod’s Fortress, Ritual Bath, East of Jordan River”. June 15, 2017:

 

http://www.jewishpress.com/news/israel/hungarian-archaeologists-unearth-herods-fortress-ritual-bath-east-of-jordan-river/2017/06/15/

 

Reblog:

Mandal, Dattatreya. “Archaeologists excavate (and reconstruct) a massive ritual bath inside Herod’s fortress of Machaerus”. June 21, 2017; Realm of History:

https://www.realmofhistory.com/2017/06/21/ritual-bath-herod-fortress-machaerus/

 

Additional Reading:

 

http://www.jerusalemchai.org/education.cfm?categoryID=145&categoryName=Coins%20of%20the%20Realm%20

 

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Mitzrayim (Egypt), Son of Ham

 

Mitzrayim (Egypt), Son of Ham (Randyjw; June 23, 2017)

 

During the celebration of Passover, the Jewish people are commanded by G-d to recount our slavery in Egypt, and our subsequent deliverance by G-d from bondage. One of the songs we sing is “Dayenu” (It Would Have Been Enough”), and begins, thus:

 

“Ilu Hotzi Hotzianu, Hotzianu Mi Mitzrayim, Hotzianu Mi Mitzrayim, Dayenu”. In this song, we are thanking G-d for all the miracles He wrought to deliver us from our enslavement at Pharoah’s hand. For each miracle He provided, we say that just that one would have been enough, but He chose to bestow the many, so that the inhabitants of Egypt would be under no delusion as to Who was really responsible in creating them.

 

The Jewish people reference Egypt by its Hebrew name, Mitzrayim, which refers to the name given for the son of Ham.

 

At this time, it has come to light that mitochondrial DNA of a sampling of Egyptian mummies from the Abusir El-Meleq region of Egypt may indeed prove the Jewish reasons for our statements and the factual historicity of the Jewish Bible. Here is the article, written by Adam Eliyahu Berkowitz, for Breaking Israel News:

 

Berkowitz, Adam Eliyahu. “Mummy DNA May Prove Ancient Egyptians Descended From Son of Noah Exactly as Bible Describes”. June 22, 2017; Breaking Israel News:

 

https://www.breakingisraelnews.com/90106/dna-study-mummies-indicates-ancient-egyptians-descended-biblical-ham/#HC3O5S2ibtGddV1h.97

 

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Randy’s Reviews: Pilate’s Wife by Antoinette May

 

Randy’s Reviews: Pilate’s Wife by Antoinette May (Randyjw; June 13, 2017)

 

I believe in things like karma, synchronicity, and the other myriad, subtle influences that play a part in our lives, both physically and metaphysically. Little did I know that this fictional book, set just preceding and throughout the nadir of Pontius Pilate’s governorship in Judea during the reign of the Roman Empire, would touch me self-reflectively in the many references it makes to the journey I’ve felt myself to be on in recent months.

 

I’ve felt that the “universe” has been trying to tell me something very important that I have apparently been overlooking in my life. The same is being said to be the missing factor of the main character in this novel, Claudia Proculus, the eventual wife of Pontius Pilate. She is besotted with making this charming, handsome man her own, and goes to great lengths to see that this occurs, even seeking incantations from the mystagogue at her temple of Isis, to whom she swore devotional allegiance. Whether divinely inspired or chemically-induced, the attraction seems to work it’s magic spell and lures Pilate to her side, with equal ardor.

 

Claudia lives an idyllic childhood all too abruptly thrown into turmoil, as her life takes on tragic twists in the fate of her family members. She realizes that her inner happiness is in question, as well as her choices. Her child with Pilate brings her great joy, compounded by the realization that the man she really loves cannot be in her life. Their brief dalliances must last her a lifetime, and they do.

 

The book was researched by its author, Antoinette May, over a course of many years, taking about fourteen years’ time to complete. Several of these years were spent delving into the studies, documents, literature and resources of the Classics Department at Stanford University to research the era of this time, in order to make the real-life characters of the time come to life. I felt it was a very unique insight into the formation of monotheistic religion from its beginnings from its more nature-based, pagan panoply of deities. I loved the descriptions of the clothing, which were fashioned often after the celestial bodies of the stars, sun, and moon; the mentions of the various deities and their properties and how people came to worship them; etc.

 

While I appreciate that the Jewish slave, Rachel, was strictly written about in human terms and was never shown in any diminutive fashion, I felt that there was unnecessary antagonism toward the Jewish people portrayed by Ms. May in her wording and the feeling that I got based on her attitudes, which seemed particularly stereotypical and condescending toward the Jewish people as a religion and as a people. For this reason, I was really disappointed, although the book was otherwise an engaging and engrossing read. Taking this in mind, I do hope you have a chance to read and enjoy this book, as a love story and as a throwback to ancient times.

 

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Until We Meet Again

☺🌞🌚🌈❤📺

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Something Seems Wrong

 

Something Seems Wrong (Randuyjw; June 2, 2017)

My left thigh hurts, I’m really shivering and shaking with goosebumps. Sorry to end this way… Oops, just felt cold raindrops.

 

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If Ants Were Angels

If Ants Were Angels (Randyjw; June 2, 2017)

 

If ants are really angels

that crawl upon the ground

My arm would be their ladder

to scramble up and down

and G-d would chuckle with us

for proving we’re both right

No need for spectral vision

when everything’s upfront.

 

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Little Buddies Hanging Out

Embody Light (Randyjw; June 2, 2017)

 

 

Little Buddies Hanging Out (Randyjw; June 2, 2017)

 

I miss you so much

The sea my eyes have allowed to flow

have brought out the little elements that were always apparent in your special touch

things that make it so hard to let you go

The earth’s creatures gather

capturing the moistness of this mist

drinking in small measure

the sea my eyes have kissed

the snail steps out halfway

into the world from its comforting home

embodying the light

it has always known

and the ant waves

like it’s a rodeo ride

hanging on for dear life

pretending there’s never

been a single word

in the dictionary

with “goodbye”

its meaning and intent

Little Buddies Hanging Out (Randyjw; June 2, 2017)

 

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Guess Who The Perps Are

 

Guess Who The Perps Are (Randyjw; June 1, 2017)

 

The cancer patient wound up asking other people if she could use their phone today, instead of me. The day I wanted to spend anywhere but at the soup kitchen was instead spent sitting there, in a state of almost total disbelief, that she didn’t even bother to ask me for the phone, or tell me that she didn’t need it, after all, and let me get on with my own things. But, she wound up redeeming herself, in a manner of sorts.

 

The guy interrupting me and wanting to use my phone to see about food stamps he never received, but which won’t matter because he’s moving to another state and will have to reapply with the new state, anyways, also disappeared into the woodwork. Good. I was in a bad mood and really want to help myself, for a change.

 

I was also told that the two perps who put their phones in mine and the cancer patient’s wall outlet last evening, which kept me in the shelter lobby until midnight, were none other than “H” and “D”.

 

I looked up “D” online and don’t find anything, really. I looked up temper tantrum, “H” (it’s worse than that; I’m being kind) and found out she advertises as a housekeeper, nanny, companion, house-sitter. I know her behavior and do not advise this, at all. This is anonymous enough not to identify a protected individual, but to state what I’ve seen and how I feel about the issue. Since the person can’t be identified, there is no problem, here.

 

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Recollections

 

Recollections (Randyjw; June 1, 2017)

 

We always find that what we miss and mourn most are the people who mattered in our lives. End of life ruminations don’t generally tend to dwell on wishing that more time had been spent in the office, but lamenting the time not utilized spent with loved ones.

 

The memories we carry of our dear ones passed are the cherished treasures remaining to us, and a few of their items may help to bring a sense of comfort to our lives.

 

My tiny storage unit of mostly worthless items at any fair market value meant the world to me in the absence of my loved ones’ presence in my lives. I began the initial mourning of their loss toward midnight last evening, when my non-ability to pay for continued storage will necessitate their removal/sale/auction by the company from which I rent the space.

 

For my own nostalgia, I recall some of what may have been contained amongst my treasured personal items, more so because my father and brother are no longer alive — my mother because she has decided to treat me as if I am dead to her, cast-off as undesirable and purposely remaining jobless and homeless in order to make her life miserable (this makes two mothers to have done so). It doesn’t mean that I feel the same way about them.

 

Ask yourself, and answer honestly: Do you know what love is?

 

My Mother’s Rainbow Blanket – a mother-daughter collaboration, paid tribute to in writing.

 

My father’s pajamas – decades old, thin, cottony, two-piece Daddy pajamas; epitomizes the essence of my Dad (slippers would, too).

 

My tennis racket – My father instilled the love of his hobbies in me, as well, beginning as a young girl — tennis, piano, flying (although I don’t know how). He played tennis with Pancho Villa, before, and won alot of local trophies throughout the years. My wooden Davis tennis racket was the one I’ve used since then. Now, it’ll be gone.

 

Photo Albums – Not sure if these were here, because my Mother has claimed most of my things as hers and taken them back over the years. Don’t know if she has, or had, these. She made me once put my things in the conference room at her boyfriend’s company, even though I had a storage unit; then, they’d gotten rid of what was in there, including other peoples’ things, and claimed that I had put nothing in there and that everything that had been stored there, including the contents from my Mother and Father’s previous home(s) which hadn’t gone into my Mom and her boyfriend’s apartment, belonged entirely to my Mother. My mother has since moved with her boyfriend to an assisted-living facility, and I have no idea what has become of all of our things. I had to look up the new address and ask the facility for her apartment number, which she didn’t give me. My mother had my brother’s and mine old family albums, and life with my Dad at our old home. My own albums contained other parts of my life.

 

Old Articles – Additional articles I’d accumulated on Judaism, terrorism, general topics.

 

Wedding Dress – My mother beaded a white two-piece outfit she used to wear, for my wedding (by justice of the peace), which was unattended by my parents, because, unbeknownst to me, my father had been diagnosed with cancer. I was only alerted to this fact when he was already on his deathbed, morphined out of his mind and babbling about his elementary-school days. My poor father. Poor me. I only had a few visits with him before he passed away. I knew the evening before it would occur, when I associated the look of evil I saw on the face of the nurse who called herself both “Joanne” and “Johanna” (“Joanne. Or Johanna”, as she specifically says) hovering over my father after smiling goodbye at us. I had turned to look back at my Dad, and when I saw that, I begged my mother to let me stay overnight in a cot in the room there. She refused. We got the call in the morning that he’d passed away. Yeah, I knew it. The lady looked like an Austrian/German woman who was married to someone associated with my Dad’s company. Almost two decades later, in a totally different state, I could swear the same lady was now at the facility where my brother had been placed, where he died of cancer. She introduced herself as “Joanne. Or Johanna”.

 

Cousins of mine on my mother’s side had moved into the nearby areas, as well. One of these, and her daughter, had taken to using a Ouija board and was convinced it really worked. These are the cousins whose dachshund, Heidi, alerted me to follow her to find that their lakeside dock was beginning to smolder from the embers of a stubbed-out cigarette upon its post, and I was able to douse it.

 

I was skeptical, having once used the Ouija board with a fourth-grade friend at her house, and felt that my friend must have moved the planchard very quickly, and I didn’t believe it. But, my cousin was adamant. I began to watch her sessions, and the planchard moved. I’m not sure I agreed with the answers to the questions she posed to it, though. So, I asked her to question who the respondent was providing the answers. I actually invited the “spirit entity” to follow me back to my house. Yeah, stupid, right? If I’m recalling some of the details, some of them were: Preston. Elizabeth, I think. Something like 4321 Revere Lane. A bunch of weird letters for the town, like “Q-U-A”; Maybe Virginia, W. Virginia, or something. I tried Googling it, but didn’t come up with anything succinct. Oh, yeah… A message once, which was something like “Alive! And glad to be!” and something about going AWOL. Sounds like an old sailor who may have died and is on a quest to find his love.

 

I had since become convinced and bought my own board and was doing it at home. I used the organ my Dad used to play in their new condo, and felt like I was channeling the voice of my old boyfriend’s dead sister. I screwed up the courage to ask a message to my father about the circumstances of his death. The answer was: “True. Bad lady put pillow over (and the planchard went to the male character on the board, which, on close inspection, does have a resemblance to my father). Wow.

 

Eventually in doing this sorcery, for that is what it is and is forbidden to us, I got scared, and was told to get Hebrew. The only thing Hebrew in the condo was some Passover Haggadahs, so I got one out and began reading it aloud. It got better, and then I got rid of that Ouija board.

 

This was also a period of two Biblical visions: one, a burning bush not consumed (like Moses), although I did the wrong thing and put shoes on instead of removing them; and the presence of a Kaf inside one eyelid and a Shin in the other while physically in the presence of another individual (possibly representing a Kabbalistic reading of Crown/Head/Army of G-d).

 

Scuba mask, snorkel, and fins – These were my brothers. He loved to snorkel in the ocean. My parents had bought him a Sailfish styrofoam-type sailboat for his birthday once, which we used to sail in the seas around Cape Cod. We loved it. Eventually, since we weren’t vacationing much in the Cape anymore, my Mom sold the boat to my cousin mentioned above. Presents taken back, like most of mine have been.

 

Another guy is talking and interrupting my train of thoughts. He wants to also use my phone, and now this phone is at 50% battery. I want to transfer my poetry from my blog to the journal a friend sent for my birthday, and I can only do so on this phone, since my data is used up and I can’t use the internet on it. Now, 47%.

Personalized Bamboo Tray – The bamboo tray I was personalizing for my friend for a birthday passed. I brought it to storage for safekeeping, but I have no way to save it. I’m so sorry, Chuck. I meant well, as I always have… Things just got messed up in “life translation”…

 

Album of Brother’s Things – An album put together from a few things left inside his apartment, where I stayed during my final three months with him. It contained a bit of his writing, some fake tattoo sheets I’d given him, and all the hospital notes, which I was kindof investigating, due to alot of inconsistencies (falsified paperwork) regarding timing, hospital staff initials and entries, etc. I suspect something, perhaps having to do with a catheter (maybe Foley’s) and problems with a spinal injection, and what occured at that point. Documents don’t gel from one hospital to the next and indicate a clear lie that they DID know what was going on and covered it up by saying that they didn’t have the report from the other hospital, which they then proceed to reference a bit later, etc. But, it’s really irrelevant, being that he’s dead and can’t come back. They said they never knew what kind of cancer it was.

 

My Poetry And Artwork – Everything since I ever began.

 

I may add recollections to this post, as I later recall them to mind…

 

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Et Tu

 

Et Tu (Randyjw; June 1, 2017)

 

I was still seated in the lobby of the homeless shelter past midnight, last night, necessitated by the fact that the vicious girls within the shelter were still continuing their attack against me. They took my charger spot on the wall by my mat, which had specifically been arranged to accommodate me by the staff, following the previous fiasco of favoritism denying me the same courtesy. It was a hypothetical fix, after all.

 

This phone battery, being unwell, takes a long time to charge. I was in the lobby ’til about just past midnight, I think. The theory was flawed in not accounting for the human mentality of a mean mob, acting like a feeding frenzy of animals eliminating the weak.

 

This paid phone breaks through the walls and can make and receive calls inside the shelter. Our free “Obamaphones” do not have the same capacity — no calls can be made. But, this phone will expire either on or after June 3rd, when I can no longer pay the bills.

 

The cancer patient needed me to stay here at the soup kitchen to allow her to use my phone, especially today. I don’t even want to be here, but I’m doing it just for her — especially during these past two days.

 

Last evening, our beds were separated by her duffel bag. I apologized to her in the event that I may have inadvertently leaned on it. She said I should really be sorry for having snored. Right. Every time in this shelter I’m probably last to fall asleep, because the same rude accusers snore like freight trains keeping me awake (I’m a light sleeper and often awake, anyways). I do snore when I’m very tired and have a lack of sleep. So, some bodily function I don’t even know I’m doing, she attacks. Yeah, the same girl using my phone; the same girl I helped, through the American Cancer Society, to arrange the ride to her doctor’s appointments. The same girl who was in the room laying on one of the two mats beneath the shared phone outlet, who must’ve seen the culprit who placed their phone’s cord into my designated space and stayed “mum”. Et tu, “M”?

 

Some two of the continued perpetrators, “H” of the hissyfit, and “D” of the smarmy victory photo smile, made sure to cut me in line to the soup kitchen, where I’d been waiting a full half-hour prior. “D” was there before me, but “H” arrived a full half-hour later, practically elbowing her way to the front of the line.

 

Oh. Now I see “M” got the nerve to ask someone else to use their phone. She hasn’t even faced me to let me know she may not need my help, after all. She fits right in with the mannerisms of the rest of the people whose religion she adopted.

 

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