Pirke Avot chapter four, verse eleven
In Which Your Humble Blogger registers dissent.
In Which Your Humble Blogger registers dissent.
In Which Your Humble Blogger ventures to disagree with Rabbi Ishmael ben Yose, although that may be because YHB misunderstood what was going on.
In Which Your Humble Blogger finds something behind the connotations, or under them. It might not have been there before I found it, but I think it’s there now, anyway.
In Which Your Humble Blogger neglects to mention that some texts include the advice against going to law school, but surely that’s a given.
In Which Your Humble Blogger realizes, belatedly, that the point of the Four Sons is not that we should be like the sons, but that we should be like the father.
In Which Your Humble Blogger skipped a week; do you think anyone noticed?
In Which Your Humble Blogger gets a different perspective on an old problem.
In Which Your Humble Blogger could presumably have made some sort of joke about everyone having an hour, and the shift to Daylight Savings Time tonight. Hm. Well, you make it, then.
In Which Your Humble Blogger couldn’t help himself at the end there, but the rest of the note is quite serious, innit?
In Which Your Humble Blogger tells a story about a rabbi destroyed by madness, starving hysterical naked, dragging himself through the Roman streets at dawn, looking for an angry fix.