Once upon a time – about seven months ago – in a land far, far away (Sweden), where there aren’t many Jews, the government decided for PR purposes to give a different citizen control over its Twitter account every week, the only real requirement being that the Twitterer tweet in English.
The idea was that the tweets would naturally broadcast the essence of Sweden as it conceives of itself: open, creative, progressive, eclectic.
It’s easy to venerate our prophets, harder to relate to them. They were noble, and they were also cranky, dirty and solitary; strange things to be in our scrubbed, relentlessly social world. This seeming eccentricity gives us reason, if we want it, to avoid their message. Let’s be honest, who doesn’t want it? Even thinking about them too much, much less emulating them, is uncomfortable.
In watching and enjoying the oeuvre of Jewish Hollywood juggernaut Judd Apatow -- the "40-Year-Old-Virgin," "Knocked Up," "Bridesmaids" -- I have noticed that the romantic connection of a Jewish man to a woman who isn’t Jewish is a kind of recurring motif. Sometimes it’s implicit; sometimes it’s mined for its comic value.
Edgar Bronfman, the funder behind the Samuel Bronfman Foundation (named for his father) last week signed Warren Buffet’s “Giving Pledge” by which he committed to giving away more than half of his wealth to philanthropic causes and charitable organizations, either during his lifetime, or in his will.