Sunday, April 19, 2009

I Hate Passover


Several decades ago I became an unwilling participant in a religious tradition handed down for centuries by irrational, dogmatic individuals who have tended to pride themselves on a more intelligent, thoughtful, open-minded heritage whose traditions are guided by practical considerations bearing significantly meaningful merit.



This is unfortunately quite far from the case, as my annual experiences with one particular tradition I would exuberantly like to illustrate. The holiday is Passover, the day we commemorate the escape from slavery at the hands of our Egyptian captors.



Such historical authenticity is dubious at best, but I will forego such scientific evisceration in favor of explicating the numerous iniquities that have become an unspoken thorn in the side of my easily exasperated intellectual abilities.



We begin by inviting the entire family for a five hour meal in which speaking to one another is either discouraged or forbidden outright, in favor of speeding through the several hundred pages of prayers one is obligated to read each Passover evening, few of which anyone at the table quite fully understands.



Such tedium would be enough were it not swathed in irony, specifically the fact that this ordeal is meant to facilitate discussion as to the meaning of such activities, yet such commentary is quickly silenced as time consuming and unnecessary in the face of needing to proceed rapidly through several dozen more quasi-comprehensible prayers before the evening is over.



Quite readily ignored is the indecency committed toward one particular child, as we arrive at the section dealing with children inquiring as to the meaning of these activities. The wise child, who has asked the meaning of the ceremony, is praised. The so-called “wicked” child asks what these laws mean to us, and we explain that God would condemn him to slavery.



The reaction to such an innocuous inquiry revolves around the child saying “what do these prayers mean to you,” specifically excluding himself from the proceedings by including said suffix (as if anyone would ask what it means to himself). Further commentaries describe him asking such dangerous and subversive questions as “why do we have to do this?” Such refusal to adhere to inexplicable religious doctrine was, as no Jew seems to remember, the founding doctrine of the religion of Judaism itself. Unfortunately such is summarily ignored by the vast majority of the Passover faithful, whose only lesson learned from said anecdote is that we are to silence intellectual curiosity with threat of violence, not unlike the Khmer Rouge.



To add to the atmosphere of robotic obedience, we are further instructed not to eat certain varieties of food whilst observing Passover, and to burn any offending cuisine found during said period. We are to imitate the Jews, who had no time to bake, and took the unleavened bread as their only means of nourishment.



Ironically, we are also told to recline and relax on Passover, clearly not something the refugees did either while in captivity or shortly thereafter. To have one tradition imitative of our ancestors while simultaneously practicing the exact opposite results in an entirely arbitrary set of rules, which, like any other religious explanation, bears historical origin, yet is still rationally deficient. It would be just as legitimate to eat bread and sit in uncomfortable chairs.



The food item in question matzah, perhaps the most tasteless yet inexplicably beloved food product that, despite resembling a saltine without salt, is praised by Jews as tasting quite good. Suffice it to say that they are all stupid, and only “like” it because of tradition. Enjoying the taste of matzah is not unlike enjoying a glass of water. Satisfying, perhaps, but certainly not praiseworthy. One wonders how well flavorless crackers would sell on the open market were there no religious fervor compelling their purchase.



Jews will readily object with the example of chocolate covered matzah, a cunningly disguised and marketed product that would be improved by the subtraction of matzah.



Were the transgressions that stupefy the intellect not problematic enough, the entire tradition of Passover revolves around escape from Egypt, an event commemorated by singing children’s songs about Egyptians getting ripped apart by ferocious animals, infested with famine-inducing locusts, stricken with painful diseases and losing their firstborn children. Though we mourn their death by removing perhaps a cubic centimeter of wine from our glass in recognition of their deaths (clearly a sacrifice equitable to the loss of a child), we are told this fate was a deserved one, as the population was complicit in the enslavement of the Jews, thus responsible for their suffering. It begs the question as to how a traditionally well-educated demographic would come to the conclusion that a population that did not vote for its ruler is nonetheless responsible for the atrocities of a hereditary dictatorship. Such an accusation would be rather akin to accusing all Cambodians of genocide.



Thus is the holiday Passover enthusiastically celebrated, a holiday in which we get together with our family but don’t talk to them, and gather for an elaborate feast in which we eat bad food. Perhaps the two most important and enjoyable aspects of holiday celebration are thus cleverly circumvented, to be replaced by hours of prayer recited via rote memorization, furthermore exacerbated by participants lauding the inclusion of a mere four glasses of wine to be consumed over an equal number of hours, a paltry consolation that would otherwise mitigate the severity of the evening if it were to consist of a number closer to seven. It is perhaps the worst holiday of all time. Nay––of all potential time.



I hate Passover. I hate it so very much.

Sunday, March 23, 2008

Sir Gareth of Foolishness

As part of my university English curriculum, we read a chapter of Sir Thomas Malory's Le Morte d'Arthur, titled Sir Gareth of Orkney. I became so indignant at its atrocious literary shortcomings that I felt compelled to write as my final paper for the class a diatribe against its inexcusable weaknesses. I felt I was reading the script of a low-budget action B-movie, yet this man is held in a certain degree of esteem within the literary community.

What follows is the paper I submitted.


The Greatest


Sir Gareth of Orkney centers around the title hero’s intrepid feats of chivalry and heroism, as the knight-errant moves from one perilous quest to another, never flinching nor failing in any of his heroic attempts to prove himself. He is praised, adored, admired, and even followed by all people that come into his presence. Gareth never fails in anything he attempts to accomplish throughout the story, no matter how insurmountable a task it may seem to be, tasks where all other knights have failed that have come before him. Sir Thomas Malory has created a character that is faultless and invincible, with no depth of character or human flaw, and, as Malory was not one of the original authors, wrote him into existence in the 15th century, hundreds of years after the Arthurian legends had come into existence. Malory has created the character Gareth, a knight who outperforms all other knights in all tasks and reigns victorious in every endeavor he attempts, to be his own hero, for his own personal sake, and has inserted him into the larger Arthurian world in an effort to have some personal claim to the legends. Malory wants a hero to call his own, and wants that knight to be greater than any knight that had previously existed in the stories, so that Malory can claim for himself the greatest of all knights in the Arthurian world.


Malory opens the story as Gareth enters the court of King Arthur, and elicits unwarranted praise from the council before acquiring approval through word or deed, or worthiness of lineage. Malory portrays a king’s court enamored by an unknown man’s request for a year’s supply of food and shelter (170), with King Arthur, Sirs Gawain and Lancelot in admiration of the man’s supposedly noble heritage, a judgment made solely on the basis that Gareth has requested that King Arthur give him free food for a year. This is a dishonest reaction, as, granted, giving and receiving gifts were considered chivalrous at the time, but requesting them certainly was not. The knights are unjustly predisposed to affection, treating him with far more reverence than his deeds thus far deserve. For the court to believe he is a man of noble blood as a direct result of his making such a request is not a believable opening, and exists in the story as simply a plot device to portray this man in a more worthy light. The only dissenting opinion is that of Sir Kay, who, despite his role in the story as purely an antagonist, is the one man who comes to a rational conclusion, believing Gareth to be nothing more than he appears to be, for he has yet done nothing worthy of the praise given to him by the higher ranks.


This praise continues throughout the story, albeit more deservedly as Gareth quickly earns this respect through noble and courageous actions. As he takes up Lynet’s quest, Sir Gareth is faultless in his endeavors, both in battle and in his interactions with people. He conducts himself to the highest standards of chivalry throughout the story. He is a worthy guest during his stay at Sir Persuant’s castle, choosing not to disrespect his host by defiling his daughter’s maidenhood (185). He takes up all requests to save innocents from danger, including a knight from the thieves (175), as well as a castle full of widows held prisoner (214), as well as Lynet’s quest itself. Sir Gareth takes on all challenges, and is faultless throughout. As he continues to defeat ever more dangerous foes, they fall at his mercy and pledge wholeheartedly their services to him. Such a gesture is, granted, one that defeated foes in chivalrous times would no doubt have performed; however, for them to do so is also a highly effective method of portraying the main character as brilliantly heroic and wonderful. For Sir Gareth to receive the approval and service of Sir Lancelot likewise serves the same purpose. Gareth is knighted by Sir Lancelot, and, as Sir Tristram claims, perhaps to vocalize the intentions of the author, “Therefore is he much the better” (210). The best knights of the world, including King Arthur himself, hold this unknown soldier in high regard, and thus must he be worthy of approval from the audience as well.


The only nay-sayer to follow in Sir Kay’s footsteps is Lynet, who continuously chastises Sir Gareth for his odor and poor heritage, stubbornly claiming that all his deeds occur because of luck and not ability. Lynet, despite, like Sir Kay, having the most on-the-mark opinion of Gareth upon his introduction, is ultimately irrational in her beratement of her servant, showing him nothing but dissatisfaction and revulsion at his heroic deeds. For such a character to be so pessimistic of his achievements is unrealistic; Lynet exists therefore as nothing but a foil for Sir Gareth, garnering for him more sympathy and making him appear even more virtuous and infallible. She is, after all, mistaken at his abilities, and her erroneous comments therefore only accentuate the virtues of Sir Gareth.


These virtues, had they not been thoroughly reiterated already, receive increasingly audacious treatment as Gareth defeats progressively more powerful foes at every turn. Sir Gareth defeats all enemies, often with a struggle, but always with victory. Malory throws larger and fiercer opponents at Sir Gareth, opponents that have defeated many brave knights, including, among others, the Red Knight of the Red Lands, who has defeated even the renowned Sir Gawain: “I know him well, for he is one of the most perilous knights of the world; men say that he hath seven men’s strength. And from him I once escaped full hard with my life” (172). Sir Gareth, of course, defeats the Red Knight, at the time of day, by his own decision, during which the knight is at his full strength (190). Gawain could not defeat this opponent, one of the most perilous knights of the world, but Sir Gareth does, thus instantly proving to be superior to Sir Gawain. He has become, as Sir Persuant puts it, “the fourth knight of the world” (187), trailing none but the three best knights that live. This has already been rectified, however, as a similar incident has already occurred with Sir Lancelot, when for no apparent reason he and Sir Gareth decide to joust, and continue to do battle “to the extent of an hour” (173). Sir Lancelot, expectedly, gives up first; Sir Gareth has proved himself Sir Lancelot’s equal. Until, however, Sir Gareth declares, “As yet, my lord, I showed not my utmost” (173). Sir Gareth is a match for Sir Lancelot, but only when he is going easy on him. Sir Gareth is now in third place.


The man also, rather interestingly, defeats two other foes who may have appeared previously in other Arthurian legends, the Knights Green and Black; if these be the same as challenged Sir Gawain or defended the bridge against King Arthur, then Sir Malory is doing nothing more than appropriating these intriguing characters and including them for the express purpose of displaying his own champion as superior to others of the Round Table. If not, they are simply two more in a long string of victories meant to exemplify the magnitude of the man’s prowess.


The author soon provides Sir Gareth with grounds to prove himself further by having King Arthur host a tournament in which Sir Gareth promptly proceeds to defeat any and all challengers that come his way. Perhaps it is simply that Sir Gareth happens to be a great knight of great strength and virtue and courage; but on the other hand, there is no better way for an author to show that his character is superior than to host a tournament in which he defeats everyone in the world amidst incessant declarations of their virtue. Sir Persuant has already described the greatness of many knights (186), several of whom Sir Gareth defeats, and many others of whom are matched or defeated by either the Red Knight of the Red Lands or Sir Lancelot, against whom Sir Gareth has already proved himself superior. No one can defeat Sir Gareth, who “rode here and there and smote on the right hand and on the left hand” (210), defeating all challengers with poise and ease.


At the point that the author literally declares that his hero is smiting his enemies left and right, his achievements quickly become rather inauthentic. It is quite unchallenging to portray a character who can defeat all enemies, whom the author has declared are strong and perilous, whom other knights of the land have fought and failed to defeat, knights who have the strength of seven men, or can fight twenty men at once and win (213), and finally to hold a tournament for him to prove himself superior to whoever is left. Malory could have just as easily written a story where Sir Gareth defeats an opponent with the strength of eight men, or ten men, or a hundred men. One simply need move the pen in the correct pattern over the page. For Malory to create such a faultless hero, who effortlessly rises to every insurmountable challenge with which he is faced, to defeat all other knights of the world with ease when all others have failed, amidst endless praise of his infinite chivalric heroism, is purely an exercise in his own desire to create for himself the best knight of all Arthurian legend, so that his character can be the best hero in his favorite story.


Malory inserted Gareth into the world of King Arthur hundreds of years after the stories were written, and quite deliberately wrote him as the greatest hero ever, vastly superior to all others. Creating new characters is not a problem in itself, but for such a character to exist is unrealistic, and, with the existence of the infinitely pure and noble Sir Galahad, is also redundant. There is no point to be made by the inclusion of an infallible hero, as the character teaches no lesson that has not already been learned from the triumphs or failures of the other knights, and, as he is faultless, becomes rather uncompelling. For Malory to insert Sir Gareth into the story, hundreds of years after the legends were written, is unnecessary. He exists here for the first time, and plays only a small role in the rest of the story, and is therefore superfluous. Inserting a character that adds depth and meaning or is interesting and complex would be understandable, even beneficial; perhaps the allure of the Round Table was too strong, and Malory wished it could be his own; it is a story that has captivated and inspired for centuries, and was too much for Malory to resist. Sir Gareth exists so that Malory can associate himself with the story, and claim that his knight is the best one. The story of Sir Gareth exists purely as an exercise in one author’s desire to indulge himself in his own creation, to give his hero a place in Arthurian legend, so that Malory can lay claim to the magic.


At no point does the knight fail to live up to the loftiest standards of chivalry or virtue. Where King Arthur, Sir Gawain, and Sir Lancelot fail, Sir Gareth succeeds. The King and his knights all had flaws, some of them severe; Sir Gareth, in his infinite invincibility and bravery, cannot be faulted. Malory has written him as such. He has created this character to be superior, and has written a story to unequivocally prove his greatness. Malory even goes so far as to have thirty ladies come into the court who “all kneeled down at once unto King Arthur and unto Sir Gareth” (219). The women bow to both men as equals. Malory in this moment has made his character as worthy as King Arthur. Blasphemy. Malory also, quite cunningly, in the last moments of the story ties up the loose ends of the other two knights who, along with Lancelot, are the greatest three knights of the world (186). While Sir Gareth does not duel with them in the tournament, Malory makes it quite definitively clear that “Sir Lamorak and Sir Tristram departed suddenly...and all the court were sorely displeased” (219). Malory surreptitiously declares his own hero their superior by quite immediately informing the reader that while they were ungrateful, “Sir Gareth was a noble knight, well-controlled and fair-spoken” (219). And thus did Sir Gareth ascend to the rank of number one in the world.


“Thus endeth this tale of Sir Gareth of Orkney” (219), Malory writes, not coincidentally, immediately after this last bit of praise. Malory has gotten the last word, and has closed the book on the subject. His knight is the greatest, and let no one forget it.



Works Cited


Malory, Sir Thomas. Le Morte D’Arthur. R. M. Lumiansky, Ed. NY: Seribner, 1982.



To my satisfaction, I received an A- on the paper.

Wednesday, May 25, 2005

The Hotmail Debacle

One day, my Hotmail account access was denied, saying I needed parental permission. I was 23 years old. I also had this same problem before, when I was 19.
After repeated attempts to contact customer services (6 times in 8 days), including several different addresses and phone numbers, all with no response, I simply contacted every Microsoft-related address I could find, including all Hotmail, MSN, Microsoft, Xbox and Microsoft Investor Relations contacts, totaling 30 different addresses, declaring that I would continue contacting every one of them every single day until my email address was returned to its proper working condition.
It took 22 days to resolve this issue.
This is the letter I subsequently wrote to Microsoft:


Attention: Kids Passport Age Verification (KPPAV)

My name is ______, and I am a Hotmail user, under the name ______@hotmail.com. I am faxing this letter at the request of a customer service representative to demonstrate that I am legally old enough to use the Hotmail service, so that I can have my account upgraded to adult status.
As you can clearly see from the birthdate, I am well above the requisite 13 years of age required to send and receive email without parental permission. I would like my age reflected in my email account status, so that access to my email account may resume as soon as possible. I appreciate the response I received and the options given for a timely resolution of this problem, albeit after no less than 6 attempts in 8 days to contact customer service [edit: this was version 1 of the letter; further attempts were made].

(Photo ID here)

Be that as it may, I have the following complaints:

1) Access was denied with no prior warning, no information, no explanation, and only one available solution to resume service.
2) Said solution required the presentation of a credit card number for age verification, which, given the first complaint, I, and many others, consider no different from blackmail.
3) This is not the first time I have encountered the problem of denied access on the grounds that I am not an adult. The first time it occurred, I was 19 years old. Given the fact that this is an age-related issue, it should not be possible for it to occur more than once, especially given the fact that time moves inexorably forward, not backward, and thus should be less likely to occur as it moves in that direction.
4) Given the fact that I have been using Hotmail for approximately 8 years, as well as the fact that the legal age required to send and receive email without parental permission is 13 years, this means that I would have had to have opened the account at the age of 4 years old for this problem to have any degree of legitimacy.
5) The only options available required parental permission for use of the service. There was no option available for “I am in fact an adult, thank you.”
6) I sent immediate inquiries to several different customer service addresses; it took 8 days to receive a response.
7) I called a phone number for customer service, at which point I was informed that there is no phone number for Hotmail support. Contact must be conducted through email. The irony is staggering.
8) The email address I received from this representative was not monitored. I received a generic, automated response to my inquiry, informing me that I should contact a different address. I for one find it rather bizarre that customer support would give out non-existent email addresses to customers seeking support.
9) For approximately one hour, I was able to access my account. I have no explanation for this anomaly. But after this time it was once again restricted.
10) When 8 days later I finally received a response from a customer service representative (after making an inquiry to every Hotmail, MSN and Microsoft affiliated support line I could find), I was given two options, neither of which were available on the actual site; one of the two the representative claimed was an available option, but clearly was not.

I do hope this ends the madness. I find it absurd to think that my account was restricted on such ludicrous grounds, especially given that it has happened before, and was somehow resolved. I also find it unacceptable that it was so difficult to contact any sort of support line to resolve the issue, as the options available on the site were so clearly insufficient. My only lamentation is that I am not an expert computer hacker, so that I could have hacked into the Microsoft database, restricted everyone’s email address, and demanded credit card numbers before I would reopen the accounts.
This, hopefully, will no longer be a problem of mine. It is exclusively yours. This is an unacceptable way to run a business, and there is clearly something wrong in the system for this problem to have occurred at all, much less without warning, or immediately available, sensible solution. I do hope I don’t have to describe to you the reasons why your customer support system is intolerably insufficient for helping customers. But I regrettably assume that since such problems exist, the decision makers are the ones who made it that way.
It is in your best interest to solve these problems, as after customers, it is business that will suffer the most. You have competition, and you are not competing effectively. Perhaps this incident will galvanize at least someone into thinking better methods should be set in place.

Best of luck,

(My name)

PS: I would also like reimbursement for the cost of the photocopy requested to complete this transaction, in the amount of $0.10.


I never received the reimbursement.