You say this is what God wants God told you Or told someone who heard And told you Told someone Who wrote it down Figured out That this is what God wants. I am no more than Moses or others But no less. Here is what I read and heard And write. “Bereshit bara elohim et hashamayim v’et ha’aretz. V’ha’aretz hatah tohu v’bohu.”* In the beginning was tohu and bohu, a formless wasteland. All the rest is commentary For us not God to write create destroy. Write we did Create we did Destroy we did And do. This is what we want.
It is the day after April Fools’ Day. Maybe that means that today we can return to our normal level of wisdom. Or maybe we should conclude that every day, more or less, is a fools day.
I have written before about the legendary Fools of Chelm (here and here) also known as the Wise Men of Chelm, because that is how they saw themselves.
There are many stories and many versions. No one has done it better than Isaac Bashevis Singer. The Fools of Chelm & the Stupid Carp can be found in his Stories for Children.
The story deserves to be read whole, as does all of Singer. My attempts to excerpt it failed. So here is the entire story, demonstrating just how “wise” the sages of Chelm really were. And us too. Here on April Fools’ Day, Part 2.
In Chelm, a city of fools, every housewife bought fish for the Sabbath. The rich bought large fish, the poor small ones. They were bought on Thursday, cut up, chopped, and made into gefilte fish on Friday, and eaten on the Sabbath.
One Thursday morning the door opened at the house of the community leader of Chelm, Gronam Ox, and Zeinvel Ninny entered, carrying a trough full of water. Inside was a large, live carp.
“What is this?” Gronam asked.
“A gift to you from the wise men of Chelm,” Zeinvel said. “This is the largest carp ever caught in the Lake of Chelm, and we all decided to give it to you as a token of appreciation for your great wisdom.”
“Thank you very much,” Gronam Ox replied. “My wife, Yente Pesha, will be delighted. She and I both love carp. I read in a book that eating the brain of a carp increases wisdom, and even though we in Chelm are immensely clever, a little improvement never hurts. But let me have a close look at him. I was told that a carp’s tail shows the size of his brain.”
Gronam Ox was known to be nearsighted, and when he bent down to the trough to better observe the carp’s tail, the carp did something that proved he was not as wise as Gronam thought. He lifted his tail and smacked Gronam across the face.
Gronam Ox was flabbergasted. “Something like this never happened to me before,” he exclaimed. “I cannot believe this carp was caught in the Chelm lake. A Chelm carp would know better.”
“He’s the meanest fish I ever saw in my life,” agreed Zeinvel Ninny.
Even though Chelm is a big city, news traveled quickly there. In no time at all the other wise men of Chelm arrived at the house of their leader, Gronam Ox. Treitel Fool came, and Sender Donkey, Shmendrick Numskull, and Dopey Lekisch. Gronam Ox was saying, “I’m not going to eat this fish on the Sabbath. This carp is a fool, and malicious to boot. If I eat him, I could become foolish instead of cleverer.”
“Then what shall I do with him?” asked Zeinvel Ninny.
Gronam Ox put a finger to his head as a sign that he was thinking hard. After a while he cried out, “No man or animal in Chelm should slap Gronam Ox. This fish should be punished.”
“What kind of punishment shall we give him?” asked Treitel Fool. “All fish are killed anyhow, and one cannot kill a fish twice.”
“He shouldn’t be killed like other fish,” Sender Donkey said. “He should die in a different way to show that no one can smack our beloved sage, Gronam Ox, and get away with it.”
“What kind of death?” wondered Shmendrick Numskull. “Shall we perhaps just imprison him?”
“There is no prison in Chelm for fish,” said Zeinvel Ninny. “And to build such a prison would take too long.”
“Maybe he should be hanged,” suggested Dopey Lekisch.
“How do you hang a carp?” Sender Donkey wanted to know. “A creature can be hanged only by its neck, but since a carp has no neck, how will you hang him?”
“My advice is that he should be thrown to the dogs alive,” said Treitel Fool.
“It’s no good,” Gronam Ox answered. “Our Chelm dogs are both smart and modest, but if they eat this carp, they may become as stupid and mean as he is.”
“So what should we do?” all the wise men asked.
“This case needs lengthy consideration,” Gronam Ox decided. “Let’s leave the carp in the trough and ponder the matter as long as is necessary. Being the wisest man in Chelm, I cannot afford to pass a sentence that will not be admired by all the Chelmites.”
“If the carp stays in the trough a long time, he may die,” Zeinvel Ninny, a former fish dealer, explained. “To keep him alive we must put him into a large tub, and the water has to be changed often. He must also be fed properly.”
“You are right, Zeinvel,” Gronam Ox told him. “Go and find the largest tub in Chelm and see to it that the carp is kept alive and healthy until the day of judgment. When I reach a decision, you will hear about it.”
Of course Gronam’s words were the law in Chelm. The five wise men went and found a large tub, filled it with fresh water, and put the criminal carp in it, together with some crumbs of bread, challah, and other tidbits a carp might like to eat. Shlemiel, Gronam’s bodyguard, was stationed at the tub to make sure that no greedy Chelmite wife would use the imprisoned carp for gefilte fish.
It just so happened that Gronam Ox had many other decisions to make and he kept postponing the sentence. The carp seemed not to be impatient. He ate, swam in the tub, became even fatter than he had been, not realizing that a severe sentence hung over his head. Shlemiel changed the water frequently, because he was told that if the carp died, this would be an act of contempt for Gronam Ox and for the Chelm Court of Justice. Yukel the water carrier made a few extra pennies every day by bringing water for the carp. Some of the Chelmites who were in opposition to Gronam Ox spread the gossip that Gronam just couldn’t find the right type of punishment for the carp and that he was waiting for the carp to die a natural death. But, as always, a great disappointment awaited them. One morning about half a year later, the sentence became known, and when it was known, Chelm was stunned. The carp had to be drowned.
Gronam Ox had thought up many clever sentences before, but never one as brilliant as this one. Even his enemies were amazed at this shrewd verdict. Drowning is just the kind of death suited to a spiteful carp with a large tail and a small brain.
That day the entire Chelm community gathered at the lake to see the sentence executed. The carp, which had become almost twice as big as he had been before, was brought to the lake in the wagon that carried the worst criminals to their death. The drummers drummed. Trumpets blared. The Chelmite executioner raised the heavy carp and threw it into the lake with a mighty splash.
A great cry rose from the Chelmites: “Down with the treacherous carp! Long live Gronam Ox! Hurrah!”
Gronam was lifted by his admirers and carried home with songs of praise. Some Chelmite girls showered him with flowers. Even Yente Pesha, his wife, who was often critical of Gronam and dared to call him fool, seemed impressed by Gronam’s high intelligence.
In Chelm, as everywhere else, there were envious people who found fault with everyone, and they began to say that there was no proof whatsoever that the carp really drowned. Why should a carp drown in lake water? they asked. While hundreds of innocent fish were killed every Friday, they said, that stupid carp lived in comfort for months on the taxpayers’ money and then was returned sound and healthy to the lake, where he is laughing at Chelm justice.
But only a few listened to these malicious words. They pointed out that months passed and the carp was never caught again, a sure sign that he was dead. It is true that the carp just might have decided to be careful and to avoid the fisherman’s net. But how can a foolish carp who slaps Gronam Ox have such wisdom?
Just the same, to be on the safe side, the wise men of Chelm published a decree that if the nasty carp had refused to be drowned and was caught again, a special jail should be built for him, a pool where he would be kept prisoner for the rest of his life.
The decree was printed in capital letters in the official gazette of Chelm and signed by Gronam Ox and his five sages—Treitel Fool, Sender Donkey, Shmendrick Numskull, Zeinvel Ninny, and Dopey Lekisch.
Translated by the author and Ruth Schachner Finkel
Rhetoric doesn’t end war and save lives. Whatever the rhetoric he and his administration announce, Biden continues to arm a nation pursuing a questionable war strategy that is killing thousands. Reported just yesterday:
US reportedly approves transfer to Israel of bombs and jets worth billions Sources say weapons package authorized even as Washington expresses public concern over anticipated offensive in Rafah Friday, March 29, 2024
The US in recent days authorized the transfer of billions of dollars worth of bombs and fighter jets to Israel, two sources familiar with the effort said on Friday, even as Washington publicly expresses concerns about an anticipated Israeli military offensive in Rafah.
The new arms packages include more than 1,800 MK-84 2,000lb bombs and 500 MK-82 500lb bombs, said the sources, who confirmed a report in the Washington Post.
Whether you lived through the Vietnam War or know it only as history, this is seeming oppressively and depressingly familiar, not just as an unnecessary tragedy, but as a political nightmare.
LBJ accomplished a lot of important things for America, but his stubborn support of the war in Vietnam doomed his reelection in 1968, leading him to drop out of the race, and leading to the horrors of the Nixon White House.
Biden has also accomplished a lot of important things for America. But he already goes into the 2024 election with widespread questions about his age. Now added to that is his stubborn support, despite his rhetoric, for a war that is already tragic and a situation that will not look better by the time of the election.
The analogy isn’t perfect. But as the saying goes, history may not repeat itself, but it rhymes. This is looking a lot like Biden’s Vietnam. And as terrible as the Nixon presidency was, the Trump regime would be more evil and dangerous. Is there still time for Biden to do more than talk, to stand up and use American military support as leverage? Even if he does, is it too late to make a difference in what is almost certainly a toss-up election, with Biden in the eyes of some voters—especially some Democratic voters—a villain?
You know or should that Dolly Parton has written and recorded many great country and pop songs, including Jolene:
Jolene please don’t take my man Jolene please don’t take him just because you can
You know or should that Miley Cyrus, another talented artist, is Dolly’s goddaughter, who has performed a number of her godmother’s songs, including Jolene.
You may guess that Beyonce is not related in that way, but did just release her version of Jolene.
How do they compare? You be the judge. Just for the record, my order of preference is: Dolly, Miley and Beyonce. Your results may vary.
There are now as many musical genres and sub-genres as stars in the sky.
Speaking of stars, we cannot escape learning that Beyonce has a new album that is identified by many as country music. Her PR folks are stressing that it isn’t a country album, it’s a Beyonce album, all the while stirring the genre pot for maximum coverage.
The best and most creative pop music frequently crosses genres. The individual Beatles grew up loving to listen to everything—music hall, R&B, Little Richard, rockabilly, country, rock, etc.—and turned that love into a lasting catalog of ever-listenable songs. (If you want pure country, listen to the Beatle’s I Don’t Want to Spoil the Party below.) Years later, Kurt Cobain put his love of the Beatles into the strangely melodic sound of grunge.
George Michael had something else in mind when he titled his 1990 album Listen Without Prejudice. But that message also applies to musical silos, or for that matter cultural silos of all kinds. When you listen, or read, or watch, pay less attention to the tags and more attention to the actual work and its qualities for you. It isn’t a crime to love a particular track or artist. It isn’t a crime to not love a particular track or artist. Just listen to it on its own terms, whatever it’s called. Otherwise you might miss something.
I listen to music on speakers or earbuds. Occasionally on a four-speaker tablet. Rarely on a phone speaker.
When Phil Spector created his “wall of sound” recordings in the 1960s, they were intended to be played by AM stations broadcasting to transistor or car radios. The definition of lo-fi. He believed that the right kind of layered big production could overcome these limitations. He is legendary for that music.
These days, it is the limitations of Spector’s productions that show up on high-tech equipment. And yet…
To simulate what it was like to hear the records on a tiny radio speaker, I played the tracks on a phone speaker. Do you know what? The sound is rough around the edges. But what Spector wanted was to give a new generation of pop music listeners an experience they never had before. It works. Try it. Turn it up.
R. Buckminster Fuller (1895-1983)—widely known as Bucky—was a world-changing architect, systems theorist, writer, designer, inventor, philosopher, and futurist. He was a genius and prophet of generalism. He believed that over-specialization narrows us and stands in the way of solving problems and envisioning the future.
When Stewart Brand began publishing the Whole Earth Catalog in the 1960s, he put Fuller’s books on the very first page. “The insights of Buckminster Fuller initiated this catalog,” he wrote. As a mission for the holistic all-encompassing general reach of the catalog Brand said, “We are as gods and might as well get good at it.”
Fuller attributed his big-picture holistic perspective to his service as a naval officer in the early 20th century. At the time, and in some ways still, ships at sea were almost entirely self-sufficient. Those on board had to know about everything and be able to do anything. That is reflected in one of his most famous books, Operating Manual for Spaceship Earth.
Claude and other AI resources can help us become better generalists. The World Wide Web (thank you Tim Berners-Lee) was a major step in that direction. AI is the next step. It is not that Claude can access trillions of words while even the best of us only know thousands. It is that when we are motivated to know more about lots of things—which as gods we should want—we have a new resource to help us be the generalists that we need to be. Now more than ever.
Crumbs are wheat and water A meal for a bird Or starving man Untidy for the well-fed A trail of clues To a way out The loaf is whole again In water and wheat
“There is a certain people. They do not keep the king’s laws, so that it is not appropriate for the king to tolerate them. Let a decree be issued for their destruction.” Esther 3:8
And to the angel of the church in Laodicea write: The words of the Amen, the faithful and true witness, the origin of God’s creation: I know your works; you are neither cold nor hot. I wish that you were either cold or hot. So, because you are lukewarm, and neither cold nor hot, I am about to spit you out of my mouth. Book of Revelation 3:14-16 (NRSV)
There are two kinds of equivocation. One is the careless “oh well” or “whatever”. The other is a concerned and studied “on the one hand, on the other hand”.
There can be value in a subtle and nuanced analysis that leads to an equivocal conclusion and solution. It can be a corrective to a stubborn, thoughtless or selfish attachment to one argument or one side.
But circumstances and situations don’t stand still. If and when one side goes from inconvenient and troubling outcomes to dangerous and tragic ones, what then for an equivocal position? It is possible to claim that changed circumstances now change the equivalence. But we can’t pretend that the delayed rebalancing, the belated abandonment of equivalence, has not had a cost and irretrievable loss.
It may be late to choose non-equivocation. Late to choose cold or hot. Late for those who would otherwise be alive and thriving. But never too late.
Bob Schwartz 