New blog - Tinfoil Yarmulke

My current blog is a set of travel essays and ephemera related to my recent propaganda-tour with Birthright Israel and the two months of Middle East travel that followed.

Tinfoil Yarmulke
www.tinfoilyarmulke.tumblr.com

Cheers!

Italia!

After procrastinating on it for all of undergrad, I am finally traveling for Let's Go this summer. I will be writing the Tuscany section of Let's Go: Italy 2011. Exciting!

Although the travel guide won't be on shelves til the winter, I'll be officially blogging on the Let's Go website as well - you can find my Italy stories here.

Ciao!

A Passover Pageant

Jeremy: There are sections of the haggadah that, quite frankly, could use a polish.
Dan: You're gonna do a rewrite on the haggadah?
Jeremy: It's not written in stone, Dan.
Dan: Actually, some of it is.
- Sports Night

I wrote a Passover pageant, for the story-telling portion of my all-Gentiles seder. It went over rather well. Enjoy, and feel free to use/re-post, with credit.

NARRATOR: Previously, in Genesis:

GOD: It sure is dark in here... claps twice Hey, that worked!

ABRAHAM: Man, I can't keep track of all these gods, can't I consolidate all my worship into one easy deity?

GOD: Sure!

ABRAHAM: Yay!

GOD: Although, not so much with the easy. Go kill your son Isaac.

ABRAHAM: What??

GOD: J/k, j/k! Chill out, theologians.

ISAAC: I'm a pretty passive figure, overall. Jacob, Esau, what are you boys doing?

JACOB: Just stealing Esau's birthright, Dad!

ESAU: Do you have any idea how badly I want to kill you?

RANDOM ANGEL: Me too! I am so not on Team Jacob. Let's wrestle. On a ladder. Just because.

JACOB: Whatever, I am Israel, I can do whatever I want. C'mon, wives, let's get cracking on this “descendants as plentiful as the stars” business, if you know what I mean.

JOSEPH: Hey guys! I had this dream that you were all bundles of grain and you were bowing down to me! Isn't that funny guys? Why are you throwing me in this hole? Did someone take my technicolor dreamcoat? Hey guys? Guys?

POTIPHAR'S WIFE: You there! Slave boy! How you doin'?

JOSEPH: Err...

JOSEPH'S PHAROAH: Man, these weird dreams suck. I wonder if there's anyone locked in my dungeon who can interpret them for me.

JOSEPH: Me! Me me me! So either there's going to be 7 years of plenty and 7 years of famine, or you want to bone your mother. 5 cents, please.

JOSEPH'S PHAROAH: Such low rates!

JOSEPH: For you, I make a deal. Now let's talk royalties.

NARRATOR: And so Joseph became the Pharoah's chief of staff, and invited Jacob, Joseph's asshole brothers, and 70 other free-loading relatives to shlep down to Egypt and settle in the land of Goshen. Several hundred years pass, and the Hebrews, as we are now calling them for some reason, have been fruitful and multiplied. Then there came a pharoah who knew not Joseph...

PHAROAH: I know not Joseph, but I do know that all these pesky Hebrews are really ruining the neighborhood.

ROYAL BUTLER: You can't kick them out, sir; they've got rent control.

PHAROAH: Bah! Might as well make them useful, then. What are they good at?

BUTLER: Nothing very useful, sir. Comedy writing, standardized tests, and kvetching.

PHAROAH: Well, let's give them something to kvetch about. This view of the Nile would look a lot nicer with some big pointy brick things, don't you think?

NARRATOR: So the Hebrews became slaves, which wasn't exactly a picnic, so they just kept on having children so that they'd have someone to complain to.

BUTLER: Sir, the Hebrews still won't go away. They're just packing more children into their huts.

PHAROAH: They'll never give up a nice deal like Goshen as long as they have kids who can inherit it. Tell the midwives Shifrah and Puah to kill every baby boy born to a Hebrew woman.

SHIFRAH: What??

PUAH: This job blows.

SHIFRAH: I so didn't sign up for this.

PUAH: Let's tell Pharoah that the Hebrew women are unnaturally vigorous and give birth before we can get there. The ruling class always likes to hear that the disenfranchised are hardy and animalistic.

SHIFRAH: Sweet.

NARRATOR: Thanks to Shifrah and Puah, a Hebrew woman named Yochevet gave birth to a baby boy and was able to hide him from the authorities. But after a few months he was too big to hide, so with great sadness, she put the baby in a basket and floated it down the Nile. The baby's sister Miriam hid among the bulrushes to see what would happen to her little brother.

PHAROAH'S DAUGHTER: Hey look, a basket! With a baby in it! Aww, can I keep it?

MIRIAM: But you'd have to nurse it and take care of it and stuff.

P's DAUGHTER: Oh. Well, am I a princess or am I a princess? I'll hire someone.

MIRIAM: I know just the woman for the job.

NARRATOR: So Yochevet was hired to nurse her own son, which is a pretty great scam, and though Moses grew up in the court of the pharoah, he never forgot his birth mother's teachings. One day, Moses was slumming it in Goshen, and he saw a slavedriver cruelly whipping a Hebrew.

MOSES: Dude, relax.

SLAVEDRIVER: Relax? I've got production deadlines to meet, and these lazy Hebrews aren't meeting their brick-baking quota, and you're telling me to relax?

MOSES: Maybe if you were a little nicer to them...

SLAVEDRIVER: “Nice” doesn't get you bargain rate pyramids, mister. Or did you never think about where all your fancy papyrus comes from?

NARRATOR: He hadn't, actually, and so Moses did what any privileged young man would do when confronted with the source of his privilege – blamed someone else and killed the slavedriver.

MOSES: Uh oh.

NARRATOR: So he skedaddled the hell out of Egypt and had a nice long wander in the desert, before coming across a lovely shiksa named Zipporah.

ZIPPORAH: Hey, stranger. New to this strange land?

MOSES: Sure am.

NARRATOR: And Moses spent a couple decades chilling with the Bedouins. Meanwhile, things kinda sucked for the Hebrews.

ALL: Grumble grumble grumble grumble

NARRATOR: But God heard their grumbling. One day, Moses was chilling with his sheep at the foot of Mount Sinai, when the mountain went all lightning-y. When Moses reached the summit, he found a bush that burned with flame, yet was not consumed.

MOSES: Awe-some.

GOD: Moses, Moses.

MOSES: Here I am!

GOD: Take off your shoes. I just vacuumed the holy ground.

MOSES: Who are you?

GOD: I want you to go into Egypt and tell Pharoah to let my people go.

MOSES: Okay great, but who are you?

GOD: I Am Who I Am.

MOSES: But who should I tell Pharoah has sent me?

GOD: I Am Who I Am.

MOSES: That's... not very grammatical.

GOD: No, it's tetragrammatical! Zing!

MOSES: Oh god.

GOD: Yes?

MOSES: Listen, can't you get someone else to do this? I'm busy. I have to... shampoo my sheep.

GOD: Moses.

MOSES: No seriously. I am slow of tongue. I mean, sloooww offff toooongggguuuueeee...

GOD: Get your brother Aaron to talk for you. He was always the cute one.

NARRATOR: Moses went back to Egypt and found Aaron, who was in fact the cute one, and they marched in to Pharoah's palace and said:

AARON: Let my people go!

PHAROAH: No.

AARON: Oh. Please?

P's DAUGHTER: Okay!

PHAROAH: No.

MOSES: Psst, Aaron! Try the staff thing.

NARRATOR: Aaron raised his staff over the Nile, and the water turned to blood. Or red like blood. Depending who you ask. Either way, for seven days and nights it was pretty nasty stuff. But the Pharoah's magicians were also able to turn water into red stuff, so Pharoah was unimpressed.

PHAROAH: Moses, Moses, Moses. What else have you got?

NARRATOR: Next, Aaron summoned up a plague of frogs. Hundreds, thousands of frogs, hopping all over Egypt on their little frog legs. But the magicians could pull frogs out of their hat too, and Pharoah's heart was hardened. Next came gnats, which are really gross.

PHAROAH: Ew ew ew! Make them go away! Make them go away and you can leave!

NARRATOR: But God hardened Pharoah's heart, which is one of those problematic translation things that I'm just gonna skip right over, and everyone went back to the drawing board. There were flies, and cattle disease, and boils. Then shit got real. It hailed great big hailstones that burst into flame. Locusts came and nommed all the crops. And Moses stretched out his hand and--

MOSES: claps twice

NARRATOR: --drew a darkness over Egypt for three days.

BUTLER: Okay, sir? I'm covered in boils, there's nothing to eat, and I keep walking into frog carcasses because I can't see where I'm going. Let those people go.

PHAROAH: Sorry, my heart's been hardened. Out of my hands.

AARON: Alright, but listen. This last plague's not going to be pretty.

NARRATOR: God spoke to Moses and Aaron, and gave them a shopping list which has changed little in five thousand years, with the same old bitter herbs and unleavened bread, along with a nice dab of lamb's blood for the doorway so that the angel of death would pass over their house. And at midnight, the angel of death swept through the land of Egypt, and slew the first-born of all the Egyptians.

PHAROAH: Get out! Out out out! Scram! Beat it!

AARON: Kthxbai!

BUTLER: You're not going to harden your heart again, right sir?

PHAROAH: Well... I do have all these annoying unfinished pyramids... And that Sphinx could sure use a nose.

BUTLER: Which you'll want the Israelites for, obviously! ...It's funny because they have big noses.

PHAROAH: To the chariots!

NARRATOR: Meanwhile, the Israelites had reached the Red Sea.

MOSES: Huh.

MIRIAM: This doesn't look good. Do we ford the river?

PHAROAH: I'm coming for you, Israel!

MOSES: I guess we're not waiting to see if conditions improve. Onwards!

NARRATOR: And Moses raised his staff and parted the sea, and the children of Israel walked across on dry land. But when Pharoah's chariots tried to follow, their wheels got stuck in the mud, and when the last Israelite reached the bank the waters came crashing back down, drowning the Egyptians.

MIRIAM: Hurrah! Now what?

MOSES: I have to climb this mountain, brb.

NARRATOR: The Israelites, however, were not very patient.

ISRAELITE 1: Where's Moses?

ISRAELITE 2: I'm bored!

ISRAELITE 3: Can we eat yet?

AARON: Hey guys! You know what would pass the time? Why don't you give me all your gold and jewelry, and I'll build a giant shiny cow!

ISRAELITES: Yaaaaay!

MIRIAM: Why do slaves have gold?

AARON: We looted the Egyptians on our way out.

MIRIAM: Seriously? That doesn't seem very under-doggy of us...

AARON: Listen, do you want to hear one of the lesser-known stories where our guys forcibly circumcise our enemies? Or do you want to make a shiny cow?

MIRIAM: Moo.

MOSES: I am back! I am back and I have brought you these two stone tablets, which contain the – oooh, shiny! [drops the tablets] Uh oh. Hope I saved the receipt...

GOD: [face-palm]

NARRATOR: But God gave the children of Israel another chance and gave the law to Moses again. But as punishment, the corrupted former slaves had to die off before they could enter the Promised Land. Forty years of wandering later, they finally reached their new homeland. Unfortunately some other people lived there already, but that's not a very pleasant story and these four glasses of wine aren't going to drink themselves, so let's just pretend the Israelites made friends with their new neighbors and nothing troublesome or morally squicky ever happened in the land of Israel ever again. The end!

A Much Better Start

21:00

Oh my god. I am NEVER FLYING COACH AGAIN.

We've all walked through business class on our way to the not-so-cheap seats, and marveled at the absurdly spacious armchairs, and at the same time wondering at the suckers who would pay through the nose just for a nice chair. Well, let me tell you. I am now finishing my first hour on the other side of the curtain, and as God as my witness, I am never going back.

I am here through the grace of my cousin Jeffrey, who works for Delta and hooked me up with stand-by tickets. And stand-by, aside from being much cheaper than regular rates, also comes with a very high chance of being put in business class. Because really, who the hell is going to actually *pay* for these seats?

Ah, the seat. It has eleven different configurations, as well as a reading lamp, a real pillow and duvet, and personal viewing screens. I've only ever had a personal screen on one flight before - also a red-eye on which I was supposed to sleep, but instead watched the entire Godfather trilogy.

But best of all, I had not one but two mimosas in me before we even reached the runway. And lord almighty did I need them (cf: passport drama).

After take-off, we were also offered today's NY Times (I guess it will be yesterday's London Times upon arrival?), and hot towels, and a goody bag containing such useful bits of awesome as an eye mask, ear plugs, mouthwash, hand cream, toothbrush, lip balm, and hospital socks. I LOVE HOSPITAL SOCKS. And while I wrote that last sentence, I was delivered a plate of salted nuts (I guess people with allergies aren't allowed in business class) and a glass of red wine.

My plan: see if my private telly has got any Doctor Who. Eat and drink everything put in front of me. Get thoroughly tanked. Repeat until London.

A girl could get used to this...

22:00

Another glass of red wine down, and the future seems a good deal more cheery.

I just had a first course of Moroccan crab salad, cream of asparagus soup, and a Greek salad, while listening to an excellent recording of Beethoven's 7th on fancy noise-canceling headphones, and all is well with the world.

Next up: beef and Mussorgsky.

23:00

Dinner: Grilled fillet of beef (very good!) with bearnaise sauce, accompanied by potato gratin and broccolini with hazelnuts. The planned Mussorgsky was replaced by Madonna (same difference?), and I could hardly touch my dessert platter of fruit and cheese.

When the plates were cleared, I curled up under the duvet with my third (fourth? who knows) glass of wine and watched The Fires of Pompeii, which is much more marvelous than I remembered, and daydreamed about how cool it must be to be James Moran and get to watch your own episode on airplanes. By the end of the episode, all that wine had done its job; I was knackered. And though I would love to continue enjoying the television sampler, sleep is now necessary. Sad!

09:00 (London time)

I slept till the end of the flight. Right through breakfast, I'm afraid to say. The bloody flight was just not long enough. And how often do you get to say *that*?

10:30

On the Picadilly line, en route to central London, and I miss my flight already. It was looking yesterday like I'd miss my flight in the more conventional sense of the expression, but I daresay I prefer this sort of missing...

An Inauspicious Start

(I'm gonna backdate (backtime?) entries that I write by hand to reflect when they were actually written)

For two hours this afternoon, I could not find my passport.

It had been in plain sight for, oh, six months. It was my primary id in November, when I lost my wallet. It spent several months atop a pile of stuff in the den. It came to Florida, quite unnecessarily, just a few weeks ago.

Question was - did it come home?

For two sickening hours, I thought the answer was no. Or rather, for one hour I thought that Mom had stuffed my passport in a drawer in a cleaning fit and forgotten about it. And then for another hour I was convinced I'd left it in Epcot and that was the closest I was ever gonna get to Europe this year.

I was nauseus, I was panicked, I was deer-in-headlights'd, I was plotting how I could go into hiding for the next few weeks so I wouldn't have to tell everyone what happened.

And then I pulled the den couch forward, and burst into tears. Thank fucking god.

Back to packing...

What's the best thing to do when your economy has gone to hell? Go spend money in someone else's!

This blog is going temporarily travel-style. Tonight I fly to Heathrow to begin a whirlwind European tour, featuring... London! Cambridge! Cardiff! Tours! Geneva! Sevilla! Granada!* Barcelona!** ***

I intend to update from each city. Say hi if you're checking on me, so that I bother spending a euro at the internet cafe.

Time to pack!!!

*Or maybe Madrid instead of Granada? Opinions welcome.
**The city Barcelona, not the planet Barcelona.
***Don't get up.

JK Rowling's 2008 Harvard Commencement speech - The Drinking Game

[repost from Facebook, back-dated accordingly]

JK Rowling’s Harvard Commencement Address
DRINKING GAME
June 6, 2008

By the 2008 Commencement Choir


Single drink for each mention, unless otherwise noted:

About herself
- being a single mother
- writing on napkins in coffeeshops
- if she wrote her speech on a napkin
- if she claims to have still been thinking about what to say in the speech last night
- if she got the idea in Drew Faust’s bed last night
- Talks about what inspired her
- Talks about her kids
- Quotes directly from her own writing
- Denigrates herself in comparison to the other people on stage
- Talks about her own college days
- Talks about her shiny new Hahvahd degree
- People lining up at midnight for books
- How long it took to get the books published
- Number of books sold
- Richest woman in the world
- Her earnings vs Harvard endowment
- If she stutters, Liz gives Harker a dollar
- If she drinks, waterfall

Harry Potter
- If she reads us an original story
- If that story is in the Harry Potter universe, squeal happily
- Actual new info about Potterverse, two drinks
- Uses phrase “Potterverse,” three drinks

Harvard vs. Hogwarts (drink in general, and one for each specific)
- Annenberg
- Houses
- Academic regalia
- Compares Faust to McGonagall
- Compares Voldemort to George Bush
- Compares Yale to Durmstrang
- Whomping willow
- Quidditch
- Sorting hat as metaphor for college admissions/life


General
- ___ is the real magic
- Drink at every pun
- Imagination
- Creativity
- getting kids to read
- God, or the lack thereof
- Puritans, witch-burning, Salem
- Following your dreams
- Luck (felix felicis, two drinks)
- Women speaking at commencement
- Mentions that Drew Faust is, in fact, a girl
- if she talks about homosexuality
- if she talks about gay marriage
- If she outs any new characters
- If she outs Drew Faust
- If she outs herself
- If she has sex with Drew Faust on stage, drink till blind
- If she mentions Ted Kennedy, drink till your liver cries

British
- pronounces something funny
- attempts Boston accent
- Criticizes American politics
- Tony Blair
- British vs American education
- Other Cambridge
- The Queen
- Btdubs, Dumbledore is a Queen

Graduation speech cliches
- provides a dictionary definition
- asks a rhetorical question
- forgets to answer rhetorical question
- mentions The Facebook
- consulting sucks, Econ majors drink
- references Faust’s speech
- references what she did with Faust last night

Unlikely stuff (drink as much as you want)
- Potter Puppet Pals
- If it becomes Naked Time!!!
- Harry and the Potters back her up
- If the Happy Brigade are aurors
- Fan fiction, one drink. Slash fan fiction, three drinks
- If Larry Summers appears
- If Larry Summers appears in conjunction with the Avada Kedavra curse

Magic
- If she is wearing any Harry Potter paraphernalia
- If she utters any spells
- If she uses an Unforgivable Curse
- If she uses any fake Latin, sing the first verse of 10,000 Men
- If she performs a magic trick, finish your drink
- If she performs real magic, finish the bottle
- If she bursts into flames and rises from the ashes, pour drink on flames
- If the steps of Memorial Hall open up and a basilisk emerges, run like hell
- If the graduates have crossbows under their academic regalia, steal one from the nearest CS major

Music
- References the choir
- References the band
- If she says Glee Club needs women, RCS drinks
- Any editorial comment or look from Jim
- If the band plays the Harry Potter theme
- If she sings at all
- if she announces the release of her upcoming solo pop album, chug
- If she compares Fair Harvard to the Hoggy Hoggy Hogwarts, sing a round of “Weasley is Our King”
- If she says “baller,” finish all drinks on campus


If she never mentions Harry Potter, chug until tour