#kaddish
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Anyone know of any online minyan or progressive synagogue that says kaddish explicitly including Palestinian casualties?
There's been a lot of straight up nationalist crap in Jewish spaces lately, and while I'm not going to be comfortable in an anti zionist space, I also won't be comfortable in an anti Palestinian space.
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omg okay. never again to tempus fugit/max
i know i'm so annoying about this but i just love the progression of never again through the cancer arc.
like. in never again, scully's contemplating her life & her choices & where she fits on the x files. she's feeling invisible (where is she in his office) and inadequate (she didn't help him in paper hearts & disappointed skinner). and in her muddled explanation to mulder, and the way he didn't trust her judgment on the case repeatedly, she felt unappreciated.
in leonard betts, he does little things to show he did hear her even if he didn't at first & was kind of an ass, letting his own insecurities run rampant. (like even his phone calls were because he missed her and was afraid she wouldn't go to philadelphia, that she was tired of him & the x files...)
then in memento mori, mulder was completely there for her. she called him and he came running, with flowers. she was afraid to face it, and he took every step with her. he investigated, he called her mom & brought her things. he was so physically affectionate, gently prodding her to face it, guiding her to investigate when she wasn't ready.
then we get a little break with kaddish, but not really. it's all about love & loss, inability to let go and eventually having to let go. to grieve honestly. they don't really say it, but this is still about mulder and scully.
eventually, we get to tempus fugit/max and again. it's all about mulder & scully. they aggressively parallel max & ??
but what i care about here is the key chain. mulder acknowledges scully's birthday for the first time. he takes her out, gets them to sing happy birthday, with snow balls & sparklers and a GIFT. it's so corny and it's so him and scully is exactly right about what she gleaned its meaning to be. she knows how he appreciates her, how losing her will kill him. scully understood that in memento mori which happened so shortly after never again when they chose silence. they're still choosing silence, because acknowledging it aloud now would crush them both. but they know. they both know and it's why she stays silent for so long about her cancer. he knows it's there, but he can't accept that she's dying. and she's getting worse but she can't make him face that yet either. and she only makes him in gethsemane. when she refuses to follow him, with the news that her cancer as metastasized and learning her cancer was artificially given to her to make mulder believe. and even then, she doesn't blame him. and she would give anything she has to save him.
#mulder and scully#the x files#cancer arc#never again#leonard betts#memento mori#kaddish#tempus fugit#max#dana scully#fox mulder#txf txt
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All Eyes Lead to the Truth | Season Four Master Post
Season four is one of the most beloved seasons of The X-Files, and we had a lot of fun exploring the background characters that helped make it so special!
Check out this thread to see all the characters we got to meet this season!
Herrenvolk (4x01) | X
No one would remember him, and if they did, they would struggle to remember a name they were never told. The memory of his existence would remain occluded by the shadows he lived in.
Home (4x02) | Sheriff Andy Taylor
For protection, his father had said, as he pressed the unfamiliar cold metal into Taylor’s warm hand. To keep your family safe.
To keep your home safe.
He shuts the drawer. He isn’t ready for this reality, not now. Not yet.
Teliko (4x03) | Special Agent Sean Pendrell
With them, it was never something simple. It was a computer chip so fragile he could barely study it. It was a complex string of numbers and letters tracking a smallpox vaccination program for reasons he couldn’t even begin to fathom.
This was what he went to school for.
Unruhe (4x04) | Gerry Schnauz
Gerry knew she needed his help the moment they met. There was a howler inside of her head — a black mass invading her body and mind.
The Field Where I Died (4x05) | Melissa Rydell Ephesian
Melissa struggled with the idea of reincarnation, but dared not show it. And as it turned out, a broken link in the chain of her faith led to more broken links.
When she first saw Vernon hurt a child, the chain shattered.
Sanguinarium (4x06) | Dr. Theresa Shannon
The face on the computer had looked just like Jack, but that had to be impossible. The science of surgery hadn’t come that far. To spread the eyes further apart, change features completely… and besides, she knows him. Knows the person he is…
Musings of a Cigarette Smoking Man (4x07) | Albert M. Godwinkle
All Albert M. Godwinkle wants today is to read a halfway decent manuscript that puts a smile on his disgruntled face. Today is not that day.
Tunguska (4x08) | Alex Krycek
If looks could kill, Alex would be a dead man. But he thrives off this, off making Mulder squirm. It’s just so fucking easy.
Terma (4x09) | Senator Albert Sorenson
He was a staunch proponent of holding insubordinate witnesses in contempt when the court was not being respected, and no one, not even a government employee, was immune to that.
Paper Hearts (4x10) | Addie Sparks
The little girl he loves is gone, and she is never coming back.
Just like me.
El Mundo Gira (4x11) | Migrant Worker
At the simple mention of El Chupacabra, the shack erupted in a cacophony of worry, as if merely saying the name might summon the beast.
Leonard Betts (4x12) | Michele Wilkes
Even through the panic she felt screaming through her that nothing about this was okay, she felt a moment of relief wash over her. Maybe it had all been a dream. Maybe her partner hadn’t died while she was at the wheel.
Never Again (4x13) | Ed Jerse
Deadbeat. Loser. Failure.
He’s heard it all, and he has had enough. No one humiliates Ed Jerse anymore. No, not now. Never again.
Memento Mori (4x14) | Kurt Crawford
What is destined for a creature borne of fluid and test tubes, guided by the hands of cruel men?
Kaddish (4x15) | Ariel Luria
Someone else’s hatred had taken her true love away. Just like that, in an instant, like it was nothing. But it was not hatred that led her to the gravesite that stormy night.
Unrequited (4x16) | Special Agent Kent Hill
Hill slides in his earpiece, watching as their eyes lock. His wife would call it eavesdropping, but as he steps closer, tilting his head just right to better hear their hushed voices, Hill simply calls it satisfying a long-standing curiosity.
Tempus Fugit (4x17) | Bartender
The man tried to fluff the pink ball back into shape after presumably squashing it in his pocket. “The woman I came in with— it’s her birthday, and she loves these things. I was wondering if there was any way you could ask someone in the back to put it on a plate and bring it out to her?”
Max (4x18) | Sharon Graffia
Sharon Graffia isn’t a liar. She’d only done what she needed to in order for people to believe her. All she’s ever wanted was someone to believe her.
Synchrony (4x19) | Jason Nichols
Naïveté and a complete lack of understanding of the consequences of their work had been their downfall. But how could they have known?
Small Potatoes (4x20) | Eddie Van Blundht
It didn’t take him long to realize he’d initially misread the situation when he saw them at the clinic. Based on the look Dana Scully shot him when he tried to hold her hand at the airport, he knew he was navigating territory Fox Mulder had yet to conquer.
Zero Sum (4x21) | Billy
He slowly twisted his neck to the right, and was horrified by the sight before him. In the next bed over was David from his class, his face covered in gross red bumps. He looked dead.
Billy didn’t know what else to do. He started crying.
Elegy (4x22) | Lauren Heller
She had an exam in the morning. Her mother’s birthday was the following weekend. She had plans.
Demons (4x23) | Amy Cassandra
As she speaks, the deep wound in her skull throbs, reminding her that that was true, until weeks ago when she’d traded the nightmare of one penetrating drill with the reality of another.
Gesthemane (4x24) | Father McCue
Her faith had come from God, yes… but it had also come from another, less expected source. Perhaps it still did.
Stay tuned for more perspectives coming in Season Four!
1 | 2 | 3 | 4
We spend so much time deliberating and chatting about who to use in a given episode or where certain characters would be best utilized in the series, and we'd love to hear any opinions or predictions you might have! Do you have a favorite minor character? What episodes do you think would be best for our favorite recurring characters? Your feedback is one of the most enjoyable parts of this project (and sometimes hearing other perspectives can help inform the decisions we have to make). - @admiralty-xfd, @fridaysat9, @monikafilefan, and @gaycrouton
#all eyes lead to the truth#the x files#fanfic#x files fanfic#fanfiction#x files#mulder#scully#msr#msr fanfic#season four#cancer arc#x#herrenvolk#home#teliko#unruhe#the field where i died#sanguinarium#musings of a cigarette smoking man#tunguska#terma#paper hearts#el mundo gira#leonard betts#never again#memento mori#kaddish#unrequited#tempus fugit
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Not In Our Name by Paula Kirman
#edmonton#yeg#gaza#palestine#israel#jewish#protest#not in our name#photojournalism#yegphotographer#yegactivist#judaism#kaddish#prayer#flickr
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"Can you hear me recite the Mourner’s Kaddish for every soul killed in Gaza? It may take me a moment, I have to say thousands of prayers, and each person has a name. I will sit Shiva for a million lifetimes." -Amanda Gelender, Kaddish for the Soul of Judaism: Genocide in Palestine
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this is something i've wondered for a lil bit, but can any jewish person say a kaddish or do they have to be a rabbi to perform one? i'd ,, boldly assume it's more of a time & place thing, that if there isn't a rabbi available that the next person that is able to can stand in if that makes sense? your icon is also mango-nicicent by the way it's certainly very cool slgjlsgjlhdkshddlf
Any Jew can say kaddish provided they're an adult according to Jewish law (and for Orthodoxy, provided they're a man), and in fact at funerals it is the mourner/s that lead kaddish, not the Rabbi, and same with any time Mourner's Kaddish is recited in synagogue.
There's different kinds of Kaddish:
Full Kaddish and Half Kaddish are recited by the prayer leader, and Mourner's Kaddish is recited by mourners.
My icon is also unrelated to my url haha, my icon is a reference to my lovebird named Supermango. My url predates my icon.
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okay but kaddish is so cancer arc without ever mentioning the cancer arc. someone murdered - ruthlessly, callously - because the killers decided they were less than human, an animal, a useless thing standing in the way of their mission. the survivor clinging to them anyway, desperately refusing to grieve or let go. stunned into obsession by the cruelty and injustice and meaninglessness of their death. trying desperately to keep them close because they were never able to speak or fulfill their vows of love.
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the Beats were lost souls, misfits of their time, looking for a place to shelter. Writing was their refuge, gay bars in dusty alleyways alight with cigarettes and jazz was their home. the road was their home. junk and tea made them sick but alive. they were the common filth of america with a pen.
#critical analysis#allen ginsberg#the beats#beat generation#jack kerouac#william burroughs#lawrence ferlinghetti#junky#howl#naked lunch#on the road#kaddish#sunflower sutra
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today i celebrate the yohrzeit of my great aunt R (may her memory be for blessing) by eating fish fingers, sweet peas and mashed potatoes.
R was a two-time refugee, the child of two invasions. her home was first occupied by the Soviets in the Winter War, then taken back in the Continuation War, then lost again.
i don't know what her mother tongue was because after the war, Karelian speaking refugees were forbidden from (and persecuted for) talking in their language. R, as I knew her, always spoke in the lilting Finnish dialect of her postwar home town Imatra.
as a young adult, R moved to the only big city left in postwar Finland - Helsinki. the cities of her childhood Karelia had been lost to the USSR and she never mentioned them again.
for almost all of her adult life, R lived cost-free in a studio apartment owned by a close female friend. R dressed in jeans and quilted jackets, smoked a pipe and never married.
she read extensively, quoted poets, had more jazz albums than my dad who was always her favourite nephew. she owned strange objects from faraway lands and always had her window open to the street.
R had lost almost all of her sense of taste and smell to smoking, and as a result, she used more salt in her cooking than anyone i knew. when i visited her after school, she would make fish fingers and drench the sweet peas in butter.
R was an alcoholic who never spoke of the war or her childhood memories. when drunk, she had a whip of a tongue and could say the meanest things about people she disliked. that's why, when i started to explore my queer identity, i didn't dare to tell her about it. i was afraid she would be as mean to me as i knew she sometimes was to others.
i wish i had talked to her about my queerness. for the last eight years of her life, i didn't visit her. i was afraid.
a few years after retiring, R lost her walking and speech to alcohol, but kept on writing a diary like she always had. at her funeral, my dad read some passages out loud.
"i miss the kids", was one of her last entries. "i hope they are all okay."
i wish i knew how to say something here of the trauma that occupation and invasion causes, decades and generations into the future. i wish i could say something about the way strong, heavily armed countries use their power for evil while it's the small and the poor who suffer. but i can't. the trauma of a land lost is too strong in me, eighty years and three generations after the invasion. i can't even think of what it is for the palestinians of today.
i miss you, great aunt R. today, the fish fingers are in your honour.
yisgadal v'yiskadash sh'mei raba...
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Il est mort pour elle, à ses yeux précisons. C’est ce qu’elle s’est dit après deux semaines sans réponses. Elle a bien vérifié dans le fichier des personnes disparues mais y avait rien. Elle est bien allée à la morgue pour voir de ses yeux vus mais ne l’a pas reconnu. Alors elle l’a imaginé mort quelque part au fond d’elle. AVC entre son cœur et sa trachée, par là dans la poitrine. Elle se dit que ce truc qui pèse un âne mort et qui l’étouffe ça ne peut être que son petit cadavre à lui. Il s’est éteint à coup de silences. Ce qu’elle souffre et comme elle pleure. Tellement elle pleure qu’elle se déshydrate. Alors elle se demande. Un deuil sans défunt, ça se fait comment ? On les dépose où les fleurs en plastique ? Peut-on pleurer sur la tombe de personne ? Ici ne repose pas Matthieu, un peu mort quand même de l’avoir trop négligée. Peut-on prier pour que quelqu’un jamais parti puisse revenir ? Le signe de croix c’est dans quel sens ? Elle ne connaît ni cantiques ni kaddish, se dit que son athéisme manque cruellement d’espoir et de magie. Au fait, combien de temps les veuves du Sud portent-elles le noir ? Au boulot on lui dit que ça lui va bien au teint… Pour la partie dramatique elle a la falaise mais pas les cendres qui vont avec, tant mieux un coup sur deux ça vous revient dans les yeux. Y a plus qu’à s’y jeter elle pense. Elle a pas non plus de mère endeuillée à serrer fort dans ses bras. “Je suis désolée pour votre perte. Votre fils était un homme bon avec une bite formidable.”. Et elle le récite à qui ce discours tout appris qui loue sa beauté en taisant tout le reste. Pour le crématorium elle avait choisi Véronique Sanson (Vous n'êtes qu'un petit voyageur que l'amour m'a envoyé pour que batte mon cœur et qu'il arrive à l'heure) mais pas sûr que sa femme soit d’accord. 150€ la plaque funéraire hors TVA. “Tes mains manquent à mes seins”. Ça fait cher les lamentations. Elle se demande si de crever de désamour ça donne des jours d’ITT. C’est vrai, elle se sent morte de l'intérieur. C’est peut-être elle qu’il faudrait enterrer après tout mais à faire soi-même c’est pénible. Creuser son trou à la limite mais pour ce qui est de reboucher ça devient le bordel, elle oublie l’idée. Au bout du compte son corps fatigué d'avoir trop supporté s'endort lourdement sur un linceul de kleenex mouillés. “Coucou chou, dsl j’ai bossé comme un dingue. Dispo la semaine pro ?”
Photo : Mon amie Clara. Qui n'a rien à voir avec Matthieu, la morgue et les falaises d'Etretat.
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#Mattheiser Gnadenbild#Trier#Sankt Matthias Basilika#Mieczysław Weinberg#Kaddish#symphony#classical music#21#poland#composer#was#a#friend#of#dmitri shostakovitch#cheers#mother mary#pregnant#Ark of the covenant tabernacle#ark of light#Youtube
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Watch "Leonard Bernstein - Symphony No.3 “Kaddish”" on YouTube
youtube
Heading to the Berliner Philharmonie this afternoon to see this performed by the MDR Sinfonieorchester, conducted by Russell Davies. Very much looking forward it! As a child, I once had the pleasure of seeing Bernstein conduct. I was a kid and easily impressed, but he was still a genius. I'm not familiar with his compositions, so this will be a completely new experience.
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All Eyes Lead to the Truth | Kaddish (4x15)
It was only a wish. Only words. She didn’t think they would actually come true.
Before the funeral service, when the family performed the Kriah, Ariel did her best to stand tall and proud when she cut her ribbon for Isaac and recited the blessing. That was the way it was to be done: to show strength during a time of grief, as difficult as that was.
Those boys had killed Isaac. Someone else’s hatred had taken her true love away. Just like that, in an instant, like it was nothing. But it was not hatred that led her to the gravesite that stormy night. It was not hatred that made her fall to her knees in the mud. But as she’d scooped up fistfuls of dirt in the dark, she did not feel strong. Grief had overtaken her.
Back when she was a little girl, her father had read to her from Sepher Vetzirah. Most of her friends were focused on the maftir and haftarah for their bat mitzvahs, but she was fascinated by the mystical texts.
The myth of the golem had taken root in her heart for so many years. When she was twelve, her safta had died, and she missed the old woman desperately. Ariel had considered trying the recitations back then, desired to see the golem come to life —to have just one more babka with her— but she’d been too afraid.
This time, however, she was grown. She’d found the man she was to spend the rest of her life and beyond with, and he’d been taken from her before she even had a chance to say goodbye. It had finally been time to see if the myths of which her father had spoken of were true.
Ariel now kneels once again, this time dressed all in white for her wedding. Or what should have been her wedding. Her husband is up here, somewhere, in the dark rooms above the synagogue. Or what should be her husband.
“He’s dead. Isaac is dead,” her father pleads with her. “The boys… they killed him. Their hate took him from you and you tried bringing him back with your love… but what you brought back… you have to understand, Ariel. It isn't him. It's an abomination. He has no place among the living.”
She knows her father is right, she knows it, but her heart… oh God, her heart; it aches with longing for Isaac.
I just wanted to say goodbye.
I didn’t think. It was just a wish. They were just… words.
Her words of love had been accompanied by words of grief, of desperation. And also, she was now ashamed to admit, words of hate. She had not brought Isaac back to kill, to bring more hatred into the world. It had not been her intention. But it happened all the same.
These deaths… they are all her fault. And it’s her responsibility to make all of it stop.
“We’ve gotta get out of here,” the FBI agent tells her. She protests, her strength returning. And Isaac appears, finally, right in front of her. A living ghost.
“Stop or I’ll fire!” Agent Mulder shouts, but Isaac does not stop.
This is their wedding day.
He advances upon them, and Agent Mulder fires repeatedly, his bullets having very little effect on the creature made of earth.
“No!” Ariel cries. She knows he is only trying to help, but… more guns. More violence. She needs to stop this thing, this creature, but it still looks just like him… she can’t bear to see it hurt.
She holds up the communal ring —the one her father has saved all these years— and beckons Isaac over. He will obey, this she knows. She has willed him into existence.
She slips the ring onto his finger and recites their marriage vows. With her finger, she gently removes the letter aleph from his wrist. Turns truth into death. Because her father is right. This is not Isaac. Her Isaac is gone.
“I loved you,” she says, as her beloved’s face crumbles away like ash. Although this creature is not the man she once knew, his eyes are still familiar. They still have the same shine she fell in love with as they vanish into dust.
Read the rest of All Eyes Lead to the Truth on Archive of Our Own
@admiralty-xfd
#all eyes lead to the truth#kaddish#season four#s4#4x15#x files#x files fanfic#fanfic#mulder#scully#msr#the x files
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The X-Files - “Kaddish”
Written by Howard Gordon
November 18, 1996 (BLUE)
Deleted scene:
Pendrell wishes he were coming along with Scully and Mulder in another cut scene...
Mulder and Kenneth Ungar were old friends at Oxford in this draft...
#the x files#x files#txf#txf bts#script#scripts#txf s4#season 4#kaddish#david duchovny#gillian anderson#tvwriting#screenwriting#Howard Gordon#deleted scenes#pendrell#mulder#scully#the x-files#x-files
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It’s amazing the perspective you gain over the years. Kaddish aired one week after Momento Mori and many fans were upset because it didn’t seem to address the issue of Scully’s cancer diagnosis. But you know what? It did. Not a word was spoken about the cancer, but this episode is all about love and loss. The power of love and of facing the possibility of losing it through untimely death. There is a moment in the scene depicted in the 4th photo where Arial is talking to Mulder and Scully about this very thing and Mulder is so focused on Scully. The whole atmosphere of this ep is drenched in love and loss and despair. It’s pretty damn perfect in light of the MSR.
Thanks to the gift of time, I’ve really come to appreciate this episode in a way I couldn’t 25 years ago. That’s good storytelling. Or maybe it's just wisdom that comes with age.
#xfiles#kaddish#msr#this show is gorgeous#original otp#cancer arc#howard gordon was the writer#and he and alex gansa#were part of the reason i decided to watch the pilot#i followed them over from BatB#where GRRM was also a writer and producer#no wonder why my obsessions are what they are#The X-Files#Beauty and the Beast#ASOIAF
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