Give me that old-time blood libel

Purim: the extremely abridged version

Someone once observed that most Jewish holidays could be summed up as “they tried to kill us, they didn’t, let’s eat!”

The Jewish Holiday of Purim is, in this gentile’s opinion, the best holiday because it’s the most festive. You’ve got the “they tried to kill us” angle with a genocidal plot, the “they didn’t” angle in that in the end, the plot was folied and the enemies of the Jews who were executed instead, and naturally you’ve got the eating. As an added bonus, you’ve got Irish-on-St.-Patrick’s-Day levels of boozing, a Hallowe’en-like donning of costumes, and everything gets turned upside-down in a fashion similar to Sadie Hawkins’ Day. In McDonald’s terms, you could say that this holiday’s been super-sized.

There’s a special pastry baked for this occasion called hamentaschen, which mean’s “Hamen’s hat”. These triangular pastries recall the three-cornered hat of Hamen, the vizier of the king of Persia (the country now known as Iran) who plotted to kill all the Jews just because one of them, a cat by the name of Mordechai, refused to bow to him. Clearly Hamen had some serious self-esteem issues. Hamen slandered the Jews in order to get the King’s approval for his genocidal plan, which was eventually thwarted by Queen Esther.

“I’ll take my hamentaschen extra-rare, please”

When last I checked, hamentaschen had fillings like poppy seed, apricot, dates and in one very yummy instance, chocolate (I’ll celebrate any holiday with anyone as long as there’s food involved). I don’t ever recall blood being used as a filling, which the Saudi paper Al-Riyadh claims is traditional in this editorial:

“I [Dr. Umayma Ahmad Al-Jalahma of King Faysal University in Al-Dammam] chose to [speak] about the Jewish holiday of Purim, because it is connected to the month of March. This holiday has some dangerous customs that will, no doubt, horrify you, and I apologize if any reader is harmed because of this.”

“During this holiday, the Jew must prepare very special pastries, the filling of which is not only costly and rare – it cannot be found at all on the local and international markets.”

“Unfortunately, this filling cannot be left out, or substituted with any alternative serving the same purpose. For this holiday, the Jewish people must obtain human blood so that their clerics can prepare the holiday pastries. In other words, the practice cannot be carried out as required if human blood is not spilled!!”

The article goes on to claim that hamentaschen filling is made from the blood of an adolescent gentile and describes a pretty gruesome bloodletting process that is supposedly overseen by a rabbi. The story contradicts the fact that in order to be Kosher, food has to be blood-free.

It’s yet another example of blood libel, a term I haven’t heard since doing a project for comparative religion studies back in high school. Blood libel is accusing that people you don’t like perform unspeakable horrors, most often something like the killing of children. It started in medieval times with the accusation that Jews used the blood of Christians to make matzoh for Passover, and exists to this day in many forms. As the Al-Riyadh story shows, it’s still used to slander Jews, but it’s expanded to become an all-purpose smear tactic. There have also been “Fu Manchu”-style horror stories about the Chinese eating fetuses not only as a delicacy, but as a way of prolonging life and about witchcraft-practicing pro-choice feminists whose rituals call for human sacrifice in the guise of abortion.

I’m not certain which I find more disturbing: that a national newspaper still prints this kind of stuff, that some significant portion of Al-Riyadh’s readership just might believe it or that the story, which is printed by a government-controlled paper, was approved by a taste-tester who reports to the House of Saud, who are supposed to be our allies in the war as well as architects of a proposed Palestine/Israel peace plan.

(I’m assuming that the translation provided by MEMRI — the Middle East Media Research Institute — is accurate. I believe it is because blood libel is an age-old form of slander. Anti-semitic blood libel still exists today in other places: there have been documentary films that perpetuate the myth, and it’s also something that the neo-Nazis like to bring up once in a while.)

One final note

At one point in the article, Dr. Al-Jalahma states that during Purim “the Jews wear carnival-style masks and costumes and overindulge in drinking alcohol, prostitution, and adultery.”

That’s not Purim, you moron, that’s Mardi Gras!

Kick Ass Karaoke,

March 2002

Once again, it’s the Wednesday closest to the middle of the month, so that means Kick Ass Karaoke at the Bovine Sex Club! This was a particulary fun Kick Ass Karaoke: the crowd was wild and cute, and the accordion’s chick magent powers were serving its master well. Take note, boys: an accordion is cheaper and possibly more effective than Coincidence Design’s consultation services.

I performed two number tonight: OMC’s How Bizarre and Fatboy Slim’s Rockafella Skank. Mike D told me that he was playing Rockafella Skank at the office today when one of his co-workers said “Hey! That’s the Accordion Guy song!“. Memo to Fatboy Slim: Nyeah, nyeah, nyeah.

To my surprise, Lindi showed up. To everyone’s surprise, Lindi and Tina started a contest to see who could put a bottle into her mouth the deepest. I think Lindi won. Us boys just watched the competition in awe. Could this be an Olympic sport in 2004?

Here are some of the Kick Ass regulars peforming…

At one point, someone walked up to me and asked “Do you work at a dot-com?”

I replied “I used to work at a dot-bomb. I named the urinal mint of a company for which I used to work.

They turned out to be art directors for R.O.B. Magazine, a branch of The Globe and Mail (“Canada’s National Newspaper”). In March 2001, the magazine ran an article called Peer-to-Peer to Profits ( the text of the article appears here), in which the company was profiled. The one photo that accompanied the article featured the three founders — Grad Conn, John Henson and Cory Doctorow (actually, it was Paula Martins holding up a picture of Cory in front of her face) — and me, playing my accordion. We chatted for a while, and I told them about Peekabooty. One of them, Vanessa, told me to drop her a line about the project when it was near completion. Cool.

Here’s some other silliness:

Some new (and cute) faces showed up this evening…

Two of the bands performing at the Steam Whistle Brewery this Friday were represented at Kick Ass Karaoke tonight: Tina, whose band, Fresh Meat, will be playing along with Lindi and her band (featuring yours truly). Miss this gig at your peril.

When Good Sunday Morning happens on Saturday night

I’d been puttering around with a new computer (Peekabooty compile times were getting painfully slow on my laptop), so when I finally took my hands off the keyboard last Saturday night, it already half past midnight. I didn’t want to completely geek out, so I strapped on the old accordion and made my way to the Velvet Underground, a short walk away from my house.

I didn’t even make it to the bar before a trio of women appraoached me and asked me the usual set of questions. Is that really an accordion, or just a backpack that looks like one? Can you actually play it? Would you please play me something?

Luckily, Nine Inch Nails’ Closer — a song whose chords I know (Cm – F – Bb) — was blasting out the sound system. I simply played along which usually makes a good impression.

My friend from Chapters Online, James Bibby, saw me from across the dance floor and greeted me with a hug. We haven’t seen each other in almosst a year.

(The Chapters Online gang — web programmers, editors and writers who used to build, maintain and write for the Chapters website before the bookstore was absorbed by its competitor, Indigo — were a tight group who did everything together: work and play, along with the usual incestuous commingling that came with the dot-com territory. After an accordion performance at their 1999 Christmas party, their president offered me a job: “I don’t know what it is you do, but I’d like to hire you”. Even though I turned down the offer to work for OpenCola, the Chapters folks considered me an ex-officio part of the gang. The gang had a pretty regular social schedule: Kick Ass Karaoke at the Bovine every month, Friday nights at the Zoo Bar, now called the Zen Lounge, Saturdays at Velvet Underground, regular video nights at one of their houses and even a big camping trip up north. When Chapters capsized in late 2000, most of them were laid off and the group, like the corporation, collapsed. If any of you readers are anthropology students looking for a thesis topic, I’ve got one for you right here.)

James was with his girlfriend Katie and her friend Jenna. Katie and Jenna looked tired and were ready to go home, while James was still up for a little more fun. We put the girls in a cab while we headed towards some place James had recommended — The Vatican. “It’s a cool, chill-out kind of place,” he said.

After a few fumbled directions and wrong turns we ended up at The Kathedral (“Kathedral, Vatican, you can see how easy it is to get ’em confused?” he said), conveniently located across the street from the Queen Street Mental Health Centre. It turned out that it had the same owners as the late goth club, Sanctuary Vampire Sex Bar (where I had first played Nine Inch Nails on accordion almost three years ago). While it isn’t as large as “The Skank” (the nickname for Sanctuary), I’d have to say the space was a little nicer and more comfortable. The taller ceiling and better ventilation also make the place less smoky than its predecessor. “Lance Goth” still ran the show, and Kelly was still tending bar. “Accordion Boy!” she yelled when I walked in. James and I settled into a few pints of Guinness and soon he was lost in a haze of beer and Baraka, which was playing on the TV set behind the bar.

I ran into two friends: Kirsten, whom I knew from both Queen’s and as part of the Chapters gang, and Sven, who’s often better known as his remixer name, DJ Fresh Disco Porker Gas (a name which used to be a Googlewhack until I mentioned it here) and his red-haired friend whose name escapes me. Sven’s friend asked if I knew how to play any Pixies. As Darth Vader would say: “All too easy.” Sven told me about an upcoming art project at the Swizzle Gallery; it was something about paintings of cute fluffy bunnies in pornographic poses.

We hung out and danced until closing time. James was tired and went home, while Sven and his friend were still up for more fun. They wanted to go hit a boozecan. I said the magic sentence that stretches an evening out until dawn:

“We could go to the Matador.”

For those of you who don’t know, The Matador is Toronto’s most notorious after-hours spot, where it just might be possible to get a drink after the legally-mandated 2 a.m., if you know how. At that point in the evening, I was just up for some dancing and showing Sven and friend (who’d never been there before) around.

The usual accordion encounter again: Can you play that? Play something for me!, followed by small talk over rum and coke before she and her friends went home. I should just get the accordion permanently grafted to my body.

Later that evening, I got closer to the stage to see the band play. While it was the typical Matador fare — classic rock — they were doing an exceptionally good job of it. A young University student walked up to me. She asked me if I was Kara Dionisio’s cousin.

“She keeps telling us about this cousin of hers in Toronto who carries his accordion everywhere! Is that you?”

I ended up at her table, talking with her friends for a while. Some guy who’d joined them said he knew the band, and took me to the stage and whispered something in the guitarist’s ear. They pulled me onstage to do the closing number of their big set, All Along the Watchtower, in the style of Hendix’s version. They even gave me some time to solo, which was fun and got a cheer out of the crowd. All hail the power of the accordion.

All in all, a good evening, despite the late start.

When Good Sunday Morning happens on Monday night

It took me a while to find Electric Machine Studios, which was hidden deep inside an industrial park in Downsview. I was there to lay down some accordion tracks for Lindi’s Good Sunday Morning, which she was going to submit to get a FACTOR grant (FACTOR is the Foundation to Assist Canadian Talent On Records).

After searching through a maze of identical offices, I found the studio. It’s small, but really well-laid out, with a lounge (complete with couch, TV, fridge and PlayStation) and business office in the front, control room in the middle, and studio space in the back. Sean Baillie, who owns and runs the stuido with one of the guys from Slik Toxik, took great pains to soundproof the place well and even built some custom walls (called “gobos” in industry parlance) that could be flown in to create acoustically isolated spaces within the larger studio space. The control room has two Mac G4s, a bay of removable drives and one of the new Neve 24-channel digital sound boards. It also has the comfiest office chairs I’ve ever sat in.

(By the way, Slick Toxik were a half-decent ’80’s metal band who blame grunge for both their downfall and the decline of musci in general. I submit that ’80’s metal bands were actually part of the problem with music, and that the music explosion of the early 90’s — in which grunge played a crucial role — actually saved music for a while. Then it got mired in cliche, and then we got crap like Korn and Creed. But I digress.)

Sean first set me up in the centre of the studio space. In front of me was a Sennheiser microphone that probably cost more than both my computers, both my accordions and my synth combined. It could easily pick up the clicking of my accordion’s chord buttons. He asked me to do a little freestyle accordion improv, which he would tack onto the beginning and end of the song, followed by a run through the song. The first take went well, and then we did another take for good measure, which I thought was only so-so, but Sean said there were parts of it he really liked.

We then got a little experimental. Behind the studio is a long hallway — at least 40 feet — leading to the other offices. During the day, it’s just a hallway, but at night, when no one’s around, Sean uses it as a very ambient recording space. We set up the expensive mike and I did a bang-on-the-money take that we were both pleased with. While Sean cleaned up after that take, I sat in the studio and got to listen to the end results, watching Logic Audio’s waveforms representing my squeezing scroll onscreen. All in all the recording process took less than an hour, from setup to tear-down.
Sean made me an offer I couldn’t refuse: “Look, I need an accordion-playing session musician. I can get you lots of sessions, and I can pay you fifty to a hundred bucks per session, which usually don’t go past an hour. Are you interested?”

“I can be a session musician? Like the guys from Toto? Cool.”

When Good Sunday Morning happens on Friday night

If you haven’t heard the song Good Sunday Morning, here’s your chance: Lindi will be performing this Friday in an indie showcase at the Steam Whistle Brewery. We — Neil Leyton on guitars and backing vocals, “Devin Muffin” on drums, Edward on bass and me on you-know-what-instrument — will be backing her up. Come on down to enjoy some good music and locally brewed pilsner.

Spend every Good Sunday Morning chez moi!

We’re still looking for a new housemate. Check here for the details.

Housemate wanted

Yup, Casa de AccordionGuy needs a new occupant. If you’re in the Toronto area and looking for a place to live, and would like to live with two great guys — one of whom is Toronto’s most fun accordion player ever, perhaps you’d consider moving in chez moi.

The house is historical, but the interior’s been renovated very nicely. The house has been featured in Toronto Life magazine and on the TV show Love By Design (where I was a participant). Simply put, this place is a catch. Here are the details:

• The room: I’m offering you the largest bedroom in the house. It’s one of the basement rooms, but it’s comfy.

• The housemates: Me and Paul. If you need to know what I’m like, I suggest you read this blog. Paul and I like to cook, we like having company over and we’ve been known to throw a decent party.

• Furnished living room, dining room with exposed brick and hardwood floors. Really nice and comfy couches. Decent-sized TV with VCR and DVD with stereo speakers and sub. Dining room has a Parsons table to impress our friends from OCAD, which is nearby. Nice, real art. We could use a new coffee table if you’ve got one.

• 2 full bathrooms. Nice ones too.

• Central air, heating and vaccuum. We’re civilised here.

• High-speed internet. And wireless, too!

• Decent kitchen. We’ve got a dishwasher, microwave, toaster and slow cooker. We could use an electric kettle if you’ve got one.

• In-house washer and dryer. Because psych outpatient like to hang out at laundromats and sniff my underwear.

• Small deck in the back; we have a gas barbecue and a patio set.
• There’s a garage, but it’s already occupied by Paul’s and my car. The landlord offers bike space.

• Killer location! Just off Spadina between Dundas and Queen, putting you within walking distance of Chinatown, Kensington Market, Queen West area, Club district, the big Paramount theatre, SkyDome. A slightly longer walk gets you to College West, the Annex, U of T, Eaton Centre. You’re close to transit: Spadina, Dundas and Queen streetcars or just a short walk to St. Patrick or Osgoode stations.

• Utilities: we pay for electricity and gas, the landlotd pays for water

• World’s nicest landlords. They also happen to be our next door neighbours.

• The upstairs neighbours are pretty cool too.

• The bottom line: $750/month for rent, and we pitch in evenly for utilities and groceries.

We’re looking for either a male or female housemate, non-smoking preferred, who’s reasonably (but not pathologically) tidy. We tend to take turns cooking dinner (we’re both meat eaters), rent DVDs fairly often, go out a fair bit (see the blog) and have friends over. Currently, we both work from home.

Does this sound like the kind of house you’d like to live in? Drop me a line.

I’m playing accordion in the studio, but I’m wishing I was at South by Southwest!

I would’ve killed to be at the Fray Cafe. Wes tells me the accordion would’ve been a big hit there, but I already knew that.

Wil “More than just Wesley Crusher…much, much more!” Wheaton put it very nicely in his blog entry today:

I’d like everyone to put down the flags and quiet the dogs of war for a moment, and remember the people who lost their lives six months ago, today.

Thank you.