Black folx in Wales

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Pride in Wales: Rural towns to hold events for first time

Pride in Wales: Rural towns to hold events for first time

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From the Desk of Rabbi Desmond Mac Innes-Reese, First Viscount of Glamorgan

 

 Faith and Science are Not Enemies – a d’rash on Bere’shit 

(for AI audio, with hot pictures, see below).

 

Have you ever looked at the Cosmic Calendar?  The Cosmic Calendar is a method to visualize the chronology of the universe, scaling its current age of 13.8 billion years to a single year in order to help intuit it for pedagogical purposes in science education or popular science. In this visualization, the Big Bang took place at the beginning of January 1 at midnight, and the current moment maps onto the end of December 31 just before midnight. At this scale, there are 437.5 years per second, 1.575 million years per hour, and 37.8 million years per day. The concept was popularized by Carl Sagan in his book The Dragons of Eden (1977) and on his television series Cosmos - who says Wikipedia is useless! In other words, the Cosmic Calendar is a visual reminder that we are but a blip in time, and that we weren’t the creation, we were just a part of it.  

And after reading Bere’shit this morning, I am struck by how similar the Biblical story of creation is to the outline by our scientists. Genesis first through the fourth day correspond perfectly with Sagon’s September through early December of Year One. As for the time element, remember there was no way to “tell time” (time as a reference point – the average person’s conception of it) until Day Four when other animals were created and no one noting the “passage of time” until Day Six when humans were created. So who knows what a “day” or “year” meant back then – potato/potato – and if we follow time by the Earth’s fundamental elements, 13.8 billion years sounds about right to me.    

What’s the real difference between the two versions?  Bere’shit sounds better. Think about it . . . Neil deGrasse Tyson wasn’t alive yet, so how else were the rabbis going to make it interesting, eh? By putting it in a story with divine beings, magic forces, and strange creatures -instead atoms colliding, nuclear fusion, and chance occurrences the story becomes a fascinating tale easily passed down, particularly to children as part of religious education.

Here’s another point of confusion. On the sixth day (Genesis 1:29-30),

“כָל־הָאָ֔רֶץ וְאֶת־כָּל־הָעֵ֛ץ אֲשֶׁר־בּ֥וֹ פְרִי־עֵ֖ץ זֹרֵ֣עַ זָ֑רַע לָכֶ֥ם יִֽהְיֶ֖ה לְאָכְלָֽה׃ 

G-d said, “See, I give you every seed-bearing plant that is upon all the earth, and every tree that has seed-bearing fruit; they shall be yours for food. 

וּֽלְכָל־חַיַּ֣ת הָ֠אָרֶץ וּלְכָל־ע֨וֹף הַשָּׁמַ֜יִם וּלְכֹ֣ל ׀ רוֹמֵ֣שׂ עַל־הָאָ֗רֶץ אֲשֶׁר־בּוֹ֙ נֶ֣פֶשׁ חַיָּ֔ה אֶת־כָּל־יֶ֥רֶק עֵ֖שֶׂב לְאָכְלָ֑ה וַֽיְהִי־כֵֽן׃ 

And to all the animals on land, to all the birds of the sky, and to everything that creeps on earth, in which there is the breath of life, [I give] all the green plants for food.” And it was so.

Hashem directs us to eat all the vegetation we want and gives the same directions to the animals in a previous verse. 

We all know many animals species, no matter where they are on the spectrum of earthly creatures, that eat meat, oftentimes each other. Is Hashem implying a certain equity across as well as amongst species, i.e., we eat what they eat? We have free will so our bad habits make sense – thus we are greedy carnivores. 

But why aren’t all animals vegetarian? 

If it was declared in the beginning why isn’t vegetarianism Jewish law number 613? And where’s the enforcement? Where is the wrath should you that should come after you eat that Whopper with Cheese? 

At least at Sinai, you got some decent smiting.

And I have other concerns. On Day 7+ (Genesis 2:3-7), after already declaring mission accomplished and still full of divine pomposity, Hashem must have realized that something was amiss when the shrubs wouldn’t grow and the animals collapsed due to severe dehydration.  Hashem had forgotten to create rain and the Great Lakes. And initially, YHVH said man and woman were in charge of everything else (Genesis 1:28):

וַיְבָ֣רֶךְ אֹתָם֮ אֱלֹהִים֒ וַיֹּ֨אמֶר לָהֶ֜ם אֱלֹהִ֗ים פְּר֥וּ וּרְב֛וּ וּמִלְא֥וּ אֶת־הָאָ֖רֶץ וְכִבְשֻׁ֑הָ וּרְד֞וּ בִּדְגַ֤ת הַיָּם֙ וּבְע֣וֹף הַשָּׁמַ֔יִם וּבְכָל־חַיָּ֖ה הָֽרֹמֶ֥שֶׂת עַל־הָאָֽרֶץ׃ 

G-d blessed them and G-d said to them, “Be fertile and increase, fill the earth and master it; and rule the fish of the sea, the birds of the sky, and all the living things that creep on earth.” 

But Adoni forgot to offer any specific instructions on what that meant. And when G-d realized the need for a project manager (Genesis 2:7-9):

וַיִּיצֶר֩ יְהוָ֨ה אֱלֹהִ֜ים אֶת־הָֽאָדָ֗ם עָפָר֙ מִן־הָ֣אֲדָמָ֔ה וַיִּפַּ֥ח בְּאַפָּ֖יו נִשְׁמַ֣ת חַיִּ֑ים וַֽיְהִ֥י הָֽאָדָ֖ם לְנֶ֥פֶשׁ חַיָּֽה׃ 

the LORD G-d formed man from the dust of the earth. He blew into his nostrils the breath of life, and man became a living being. 

וַיִּטַּ֞ע יְהוָ֧ה אֱלֹהִ֛ים גַּן־בְעֵ֖דֶן מִקֶּ֑דֶם וַיָּ֣שֶׂם שָׁ֔ם אֶת־הָֽאָדָ֖ם אֲשֶׁ֥ר יָצָֽר׃ 

The LORD G-d planted a garden in Eden, in the east, and placed there the man whom He had formed. 

וַיַּצְמַ֞ח יְהוָ֤ה אֱלֹהִים֙ מִן־הָ֣אֲדָמָ֔ה כָּל־עֵ֛ץ נֶחְמָ֥ד לְמַרְאֶ֖ה וְט֣וֹב לְמַאֲכָ֑ל וְעֵ֤ץ הַֽחַיִּים֙ בְּת֣וֹךְ הַגָּ֔ן וְעֵ֕ץ הַדַּ֖עַת ט֥וֹב וָרָֽע׃ 

And from the ground the LORD G-d caused to grow every tree that was pleasing to the sight and good for food, with the tree of life in the middle of the garden, and the tree of knowledge of good and bad.

“Holy Project Failure, Batman!” Make you wonder if Hashem had other oversights? For example, what’s with the second male. Did Eve kick him out or did he leave her?  Or did G-d fire the original man for laziness and environmental malfeasance?  The second half of this story is equally as confusing. I mean if YHVH knew Adam and Eve would be up to mischief, why didn’t he keep a better eye on them? Considering that they couldn’t be more than a few days old, shouldn’t someone call child protective services and make a neglect complaint?  

Well, I guess that explains Cain and Abel.

Then there is the social justice angle to all of this. I could understand how even the divine can be overwhelmed. I mean, let’s face it, Hashem only had 7 days to get it all done. Have you ever had to make such a deadline? Someone had his foot on G-d proverbial neck and was pressing hard. G-d could have had three other galaxies to take care of on $10/hour job. Oy! 

Does this mean that Hashem was abused by “the Man” too?

Or did G-d “forget” these things on purpose? For if he’d made the world perfect, there would there be no room for t'shuva (repentance) and no opportunities to secure our bonds with nature, self and the rest of Beit Yisroel (the House of Israel). The world is perfect in its imperfections and all are in their place. And if Adoni knew all along that this world would be bequeathed to us, YHVH also knew we didn’t like being idle and would need something for which to define ourselves. So Hashem made us the COOs, chief operations officers of Planet Earth and in charge for now until . . . until . . . 

 

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2ND INSTALLMENT OF COVID-19 & THE SUBMISSIVE

COVID-19 & THE SUBMISSIVE - Musing # 1348: Family Quarantine – Day 1 minus 2

Chapter 1 – Deetz and Angus

Some background, eh?  My name is Desmond Mac Innes-Reese.  Most folks call me Deetz.  I’m married to the 12th Earl of Glamorgan, Angus Mac Innes-Reese, a descendent of Welsh royalty and one of the richest men in the world (yeah, just like the fairy tales).  My sister Ciara says I look like Bruce Lee’s brother from another mother.  Angus looks like he just left the cover of some corner store bodice ripper, kilt and all.  We’ve been married for nearly six years and things are changing. 

Higher Society-Part 2

HIGHER SOCIETY – Part 2

a fanfiction based on George Cukor’s The Philadelphia Story (1940) and the musical High Society (1956), both of which were based on the Broadway play, The Philadelphia Story (1939) by Philip Barry.  I don’t own the story, but I own the characters in this adaptation.

∞∞∞∞

Chapter Eight 

What really was important

Coming up close

Everything sounds like welcome home

Come home, and oh, by the way

·                “Coming Up Close”, as sung by Til Tuesday

http://www.ynyogaposes.com/yogalessons.html

Four and a half years ago…

Deetz rose at dawn, did a Tai Chi workout, and ate some oatmeal. Two days ago, Angus had ordered a truck and food from a broker in town.  It was delivered to the cottage - a four-passenger Ford F-250 loaded with nonperishable foodstuff from a prepper supply company called My Patriot Supply, and a box of miscellaneous tools.   A note was taped to the passenger side: I have to run into town for a couple of hours. Business. I should be back before 1 pm – Angus. Initially, Deetz wondered if Angus had changed his mind, chickened out. Even so, I can drive to Cousin Scarlett’s myself, he said as a self-distraction. Meanwhile, he concentrated on loading Sugar, focusing primarily on organizing the kitchen stuff and checking the satellite service. 

Ciara and family found him shortly afterwards on the caravan’s roof. “Wow, big brother! It’s brilliant! I didn’t know you were this handy.” 

Tom and she walked around the motorhome. Tom asked, “And you say we all could sleep comfortably? I believe it! This thing is huge.” 

Higher Society - an irreverent Angus and Deetz story

HIGHER SOCIETY

a fanfiction based on George Cukor’s The Philadelphia Story (1940) and the musical High Society (1956), both of which were based on the Broadway play, The Philadelphia Story (1939) by Philip Barry.  I don’t own the story, but I own the characters in this adaptation.

Here's a link to Spotify playlist of music matching the story: songs for the Higher Society

∞∞∞∞

Chapter One

It's a pretty good crowd for a Saturday

And the manager gives me a smile

'Cause he knows that it's me they've been comin' to see

To forget about life for a while

And the piano, it sounds like a carnival

And the microphone smells like a beer

And they sit at the bar and put bread in my jar

And say, "Man, what are you doin' here?"

-    “Piano Man”, as sung by Billy Joel

Present Day – New York, U.S.A.

Jack Spencer, reluctant up and coming celebrity reporter for TMI Online, dashed to a table at Nathan’s for a meeting with the tabloid’s editor-in-chief, Mars Lancroft, and Jack’s photographer/camera operator, LaTonya “Toni” Hoffman.  Jack was flustered and irritated he had to come in the first place.  He hated the whole celebrity gossip thing – was disgusted by computer-enhanced, second rate talents who complained about reporters hiding in the bushes all the while having assistants plant slander about their fellows in social media.  But he couldn’t avoid this assignment nor this job, at least for now.  Jack needed money to free himself of the constraints that came with living with the wrong body parts.   Female-to-male transitions weren’t cheap either, even with medical coverage.  Therapy, psychiatry, medications – Jack was in the hole with the constant costs.  His friends in the FTM trans support group said the hormones were “working” and he “passed” for a man as he developed a fairly full beard and moustache.  Jack accepted that there wasn’t much to be done by his Hobbit body frame.  Toni said he was cute, but he wanted more.  Jack wanted a functional cock.  Once things were right, he promised himself, all would be perfect.  Since he was a teen, Jack dreamed of being that man in a tailored, double-breasted Savile Row suit confidently walking to his office at the New York Times..   So, he shook off his disgust with a mental reminder.  “I’m playing for something more”, he whispered to himself as he put on his gratitude face and sat at the table.

“I was about to give up on you, Spencer!” bellowed Lancroft, who Jack’s mom used to say looked like B. T. Bauman’s at a 90s gay pride event.  “Now Toni, you'll take your camera stuff, of course. And Spencer well . . .  eh . . . you'll take your own special talents,” the latter oozing from the older man’s mouth like the remnants of explosive vomit.

Again, composing himself, Jack deescalated the initial tone of his question, “What’s the deal?”

“Lancroft wants us to cover the Reese wedding,” Toni replied.  She was a mashup between Lisa Bonet’s complexion with a Jewfroo and 1970s Pam Grier’s, smiled slightly at Jack as he sat down.  Although she had the well-deserved moniker of “Ice Princess”, anyone who was really paying attention would notice how her voice and gestures were just a little bit brighter when Jack was around. 

“In Wales?” Jack exclaimed.

“Ah don’t complain, Spencer!” waved off Lancroft as he inhaled a bit of cheesecake.  “After all, you’re Scots-Irish?  So, it’s all England, isn’t it?  What’s the difference?”

His mom was quite proud of their Westside Chicago, upper white trash heritage and taught him the same.  But this wasn’t the time to argue with a man so ignorant as to believe Donald Trump should have a statue and library next to the Lincoln Memorial.  “The family agreed?  Royal types are notoriously camera-shy.”

“It seems our leadership has convinced them of the error of their ways,” Toni responded. 

“Well if you can’t handle the scandal, don’t do the scandalous, I always say.” Lancroft showed that he could do two things at once – roll his eyes and gobble another slice of cheesecake.  “Is it our fault that some horny, titled 16-year old with a well-heeled and slightly older gentleman boyfriend got . . .  banged up, I think those English say?  Can I help it that granny’s a strumpet? Try explaining that pregnancy during Christmas dinner at Buckingham Palace?  And it’s not our fault said such information happened to arrive by snail mail to the office of this editor-n-chief.  I am simply helping our brethren out, giving the oft-maligned upper classes a chance to give the world their side of the story – show everyone that they are just like us.”  Altruism never smelled so bad.  “Listen, the bottom line is those folks want to keep things quiet and we need the money this story will bring in.  Ad sales are down with all this podcast shit.  Don’t make me order you two over there!”

Toni shrugged and gave Jack a what-else-can-we-do grin.  “When do we leave?” Jack asked.

Lancroft took out his phone and started tapping before his staff changed their minds.  “You fly out in 3 hours.  I’ll text you your tickets”.  After a few clicks, he added, “Your seats are already confirmed, and your equipment will be pre-boarded.  You just have to get yourselves to the airport.”

Jack picked up his phone to examine the e-ticket.  “You know Mars, your psychic powers always amaze me.  It’s like you can smell our acquiesce before we have even formulated an objection,” Jack replied.

Lancroft savoured his last piece of cake, letting it melt in his mouth before chewing.  His eyes closed and his face looked like an addict’s after the first hit of the morning.  When it was gone, Lancroft’s eyes locked with Jack.  Older man growled, “Don’t you know what it is the have a secret no one should hear?”  It wasn’t so much that Lancroft was transphobic.  He hated everyone just for existing.  But he offered quiet, casual torture with a splash of nosy to his underlings.  It was a shame the company’s human resource executive was sleeping with him.

“Yes,” said Jack, as he nearly tripped over his own bile.

Romancing my Bone

Please enjoy this little ditty/writing exercise employed as a way to lift this writer's block.  It takes place well-after The Roswell Discrepancy: a human romance in three parts (to explore this story click on the link to Amazon Books to the right and down from this post) and Project Iceworm: a human marriage in three parts (due for publication at the end of this year - sorry it is taking longer than I would have liked but unfortunately, I don't have a trust fund and the New York Times has yet to discover my masterpieces).  Leave a comment with your thoughts.