Happy Hanukkah from the Trenches

So much for this amazingly original trench art Hanukkah Menorah I found on eBay. There’s another exactly like this one, written up here, and yet another just like it in the book "From the Secular to the Sacred: Everyday Objects in Jewish Ritual Use" by the Israel Museum.

“Trench art,” as it turns out, is a tricky business. It’s hard to know whether the our Menorah was a microtrend, as in “I’ve got this rifle butt--hey, I think I’ll make one of those nifty menorahs I just saw Ari make,” or if it is of the “mass produced” variety. By that I mean “Yossi, bring me as many rifle butts as you can get your hands on. Tourists are buying them faster than I can turn them out.”

Here’s how Wikipedia presents the subject of trench art:

To the uninitiated, all trench art, by definition, was made by a soldier sitting in a trench in France during the First World War, in the midst of a bombardment. To the cynics, it was all made in the 1920s by enterprising French and Belgian citizens. The reality is, naturally, a mix of these extremes, and everything in between, and spans conflicts from the Napoleonic Wars to the present day.

In the realm of Judaica, the Menorah might be the only ritual object for which a gun is actually appropriate, as Hanukkah is the only ancient Jewish holiday to commemorate Jews battling their enemies. If you are not familiar with those guerilla warriors who took back the Temple, read about the macho Maccabees here.

Here's to repurposing all guns! Wishing a peaceful, light-filled holiday to all.

DIY Stonehenge: Infographic

[via geek in heels, via Flavorwire, via Designboom]
Some 18,000 people gathered at Stonehenge yesterday to witness sunrise on the day of the summer solstice. To welcome the new season, I’m sharing the IKEA assembly instructions for the ancient monument. This awesome infographic by Justin Pollard, John Lloyd and Stevyn Colgan, appeared in this year’s Qi Annual.

Small print at the bottom:

Important! Ensure all components are free from mud, dung and evil spirits before assembly. Wear appropriate safety equipment (spear, flint knife etc.) in the event of bears. Small parts are not included.

If plagued by demons or suffering from pestilence, seek advice from a druid before attempting assembly.

May contain quartz.

I’m pretty sure you need to supply your own magician and beer. Also, there's is no mention of lingonberry preserves, but they are a must for human sacrifice.

Just a few pix ...
Solstice, 2011. via Daily Mail.

Solstice, 1984.Photo copyright Alan Lodge.
via Andy Worhington

Residue of the 36,500-person solstice gathering in 2009. Daily Mail

Stonehenge News and Information urges solstice revelers to
use public transportation.

The Illustrated Exodus

I’ve tracked down a version of the very traditional Haggadah I remember from my youth, first published by Shulsinger Brothers in 1950. The illustrations by Austrian-born artist Siegmund Forst, depict in realistic detail, scenes of the Jews’ exodus from Egypt and various other characters and stories from the Haggadah. When I was a kid, I would pore over these illustrations during the lengthy recitation of the text. I considered them very instructive and I was not bothered in the least by how sentimental they were. I was fascinated that they showed me how it really looked when Egyptian soldiers were swallowed by the Red Sea, and exactly what the Angel of Death looked like (a skeleton with wings and a scythe). It also served as a handy guide to stereotyping men by their appearance.


The Haggadah actually acknowledges that not all children are exactly the same. “The Four Sons” represent four types of children and outlines how to discuss the exodus from Egypt with each type.

Upper right, the wise son (looks a lot like Moses!); upper left, the wicked son; bottom right, the simple son: bottom left, the son who doesn’t even know how to ask a question.


Scenes of the Jews in Egypt: Above, building pyramids. Below, Pharaoh's daughter discovers Moses in his basket in the reeds.

This illustration goes with a “cumulative” type of folk song that’s been around for a few hundred years called Chad Gadya. It’s ostensibly a lively song for children about the fate of a boy’s goat, which his father bought for him. The song describes successive acts of violence that go all the way up the food chain from animals, to man, to the Angel of Death, to God.

Chad Gadya, however, is not merely a simple child’s song. There have been many interpretations of it. Here is what Elie Wiesel has to say about it.

And here we are, concluding the seder with Chad Gadya, a beautiful song, which is not just about a father who buys a goat for his child. It's a song about God's creatures destroying each other. It may be a puzzling way to end the joyous meal but one that is fraught with meaning.

The song of Chad Gadya reminds us that in Jewish history, all creatures, all animals, all events are connected. The goat and the cat, the fire and the water, the slaughterer and the redeemer, they are all part of the story.

And surely it has to be symbolic, for how can a cat eat a goat in the first place?

Laying Needles to Rest

Broken and worn sewing needles will be lovingly and respectfully laid to rest in soft blocks of tofu throughout Japan today. Though hardly as popular as it once was, the annual ceremony known as Hari-kuyo (needle memorial service), dates back some 400 years. No sewing is done on this day, as all needle-workers (kimono-makers in particular), honor the soul and spirit of these important implements that served so well during their useful lives.

Photo by Michele Walker