MENDEL BEILIS
On October 8, the 100th anniversary of the beginning of the Mendel Beilis trial in Tsarist Russia, I plan to post my translation of the trial transcript from Russian. This will take 34 days, the length of the trial.
The transcript and an impressive range of other information on the case and the blood libel in general, is available mostly in Russian, here:
http://ldn-knigi.lib.ru/JUDAICA/StenBeil/Beilis_Steno.htm
http://ldn-knigi.lib.ru/JUDAICA/Navet.htm
http://ldn-knigi.lib.ru/
I decided to do the translation since most of you have only limited access to classes in Russian language; even if you want to use the material on the ldn-knigi site, it will take you a couple of years to be able to read the transcript there.
Also there is a book circulating on the Internet called "The Killing of Andrey Yushchinsky" which uses all the anti-Semitic excerpts in the transcript. Quoting out of context is a fallacy as well as a heck of a good way of telling lies. I thought people deserved the whole story in English.
The trial ran 14 hours a day, 7 days a week, for the entire 34 days. It consumed almost 200 witnesses. The transcript has 1100-plus two-column pages of "eyewitness" and "expert" testimony, and 300 pages of closing arguments. As you can see, you might not actually read each day's translation on the day it is posted. The translation will run over 2000 pages before it is complete.
Along with the translation, I plan to provide a chronology of events starting slightly before the murder, and continuing through to the verdict.
I will blog summaries of what I thought were important parts of each day's proceedings, and a list of each day's witnesses. I will post links to PDFs of the translation for that day.
I thought of writing a novel based on the trial, but I found out that the Beilis family (of whom there are still survivors) were less than pleased with the last experiment in that direction, Bernard Malamud's The Fixer. As I worked on the translation, I realized to heck with fiction, fact is better!
So I have also written a "murder mystery" based on various resources I found on the Internet. I'll give that list of sources in coming weeks. This book is about the length of a romance novel and tries not only to tell what happened, but also to explain it in terms of Tsarist legal practice and the habits of thought of those involved. It was a very different time and legal procedure than anything you have ever heard of, unless you are a historian specializing in the period. If you are interested in it, contact me and we'll arrange something.
My background for this includes a degree in Russian language from Penn State (class of 1977), and Associates and Bachelor's degrees in legal studies, as well as research into legal decisions of the 21st century. I've tried to make the "murder mystery" read more like a novel than a textbook. If you read it, you can tell me whether I've succeeded.
Read the next installment in this series
© Patricia Heil, 2013-2018 All Rights Reserved
Thursday, August 8, 2013
Wednesday, August 7, 2013
DIY
BREAD
If you go into DIY for one thing, it ought to be bread.
I just finished putting down a batch of sourdough pumpernickel bread, which I started the night before last by making the starter (catchy, huh?). I spent yesterday building the sour, which mostly means pumping in warm water and flour at 7 hour intervals while I worked on other projects.
This morning I spent half an hour putting in the pumpernickel meal, the last yeast, the caraway, the color, and kneading for 10 minutes by hand. About 10 this morning I'll take two fragrant loaves with crunchy crusts and tender insides out of the oven to cool, and I'll freeze one of them.
You can get an excellent recipe book for yeast and sourdough bread, that also tells you how to make croissant and sourdough pancakes, for $10-12.
You can get a breadmaker for $75-$150.
Either way you'll save $1.50 a loaf for yeast bread compared to the manufactured bread in the stores, more for artisan breads and whole grain and sourdough. A breadmaker will pay for itself in a year or two depending on how fancy a machine you buy.
You'll cut sugar, fat, chemicals, and oil costs from your life. Yeah. The oil that runs the factories, the diesel trains and trucks, that makes the bread itself and the plastic wrap around it and ships the stuff to you -- the advertising and the package design and the investment advisors for the corporate chiefs. You won't pay that any more.
If you have the money, get the breadmaker. If you have the time and energy, forget the machine. Kneading bread is terrific upper-body exercise. There's a zen to it. You can take out your frustrations kneading the dough and it loves it and gives back the love.
Some years ago I changed my eating habits to have only two servings of grains a day, and moved the calories into vegetables and fruit. But there are so many benefits to making my own bread, I won't give it up.
When I was a teenager we lived on a farm, and I grew up no more than 10 miles from farms and commercial orchards, and went to school with Mennonite kids and knew their Amish relatives. DIY probably comes easier for me than it does for you. But I'm going to show you DIY that you will be crazy not to try, because most of the things I do have multiple benefits. Watch this blog.
© Patricia Heil, 2013-2018 All Rights Reserved
BREAD
If you go into DIY for one thing, it ought to be bread.
I just finished putting down a batch of sourdough pumpernickel bread, which I started the night before last by making the starter (catchy, huh?). I spent yesterday building the sour, which mostly means pumping in warm water and flour at 7 hour intervals while I worked on other projects.
This morning I spent half an hour putting in the pumpernickel meal, the last yeast, the caraway, the color, and kneading for 10 minutes by hand. About 10 this morning I'll take two fragrant loaves with crunchy crusts and tender insides out of the oven to cool, and I'll freeze one of them.
You can get an excellent recipe book for yeast and sourdough bread, that also tells you how to make croissant and sourdough pancakes, for $10-12.
You can get a breadmaker for $75-$150.
Either way you'll save $1.50 a loaf for yeast bread compared to the manufactured bread in the stores, more for artisan breads and whole grain and sourdough. A breadmaker will pay for itself in a year or two depending on how fancy a machine you buy.
You'll cut sugar, fat, chemicals, and oil costs from your life. Yeah. The oil that runs the factories, the diesel trains and trucks, that makes the bread itself and the plastic wrap around it and ships the stuff to you -- the advertising and the package design and the investment advisors for the corporate chiefs. You won't pay that any more.
If you have the money, get the breadmaker. If you have the time and energy, forget the machine. Kneading bread is terrific upper-body exercise. There's a zen to it. You can take out your frustrations kneading the dough and it loves it and gives back the love.
Some years ago I changed my eating habits to have only two servings of grains a day, and moved the calories into vegetables and fruit. But there are so many benefits to making my own bread, I won't give it up.
When I was a teenager we lived on a farm, and I grew up no more than 10 miles from farms and commercial orchards, and went to school with Mennonite kids and knew their Amish relatives. DIY probably comes easier for me than it does for you. But I'm going to show you DIY that you will be crazy not to try, because most of the things I do have multiple benefits. Watch this blog.
© Patricia Heil, 2013-2018 All Rights Reserved
Tuesday, August 6, 2013
Outdoors
I won't usually post more than once a day but this was unusual. I came in from thinning carrots in my back yard and checking a zucchini to see if I should pick it yet. Came back in and munched on the tiny carrots.
Heard a lot of noise and looked out front. All over the pokeweed, the holly tree, the phone and power lines were some 30 or 40 birds, mostly house sparrows but some starlings and some bigger ones that were probably house finches.
I looked carefully without disturbing them to see if there was a cat involved. It's illegal to let cats roam in my community but feral cats have been observed. No cat.
I'll probably never know what it was that brought these birds around. It definitely wasn't a feeding frenzy on the pokeberries, because they just sat there. I get lots of them all day long but not in these numbers. Weird.
© Patricia Heil, 2013-2018 All Rights Reserved
I won't usually post more than once a day but this was unusual. I came in from thinning carrots in my back yard and checking a zucchini to see if I should pick it yet. Came back in and munched on the tiny carrots.
Heard a lot of noise and looked out front. All over the pokeweed, the holly tree, the phone and power lines were some 30 or 40 birds, mostly house sparrows but some starlings and some bigger ones that were probably house finches.
I looked carefully without disturbing them to see if there was a cat involved. It's illegal to let cats roam in my community but feral cats have been observed. No cat.
I'll probably never know what it was that brought these birds around. It definitely wasn't a feeding frenzy on the pokeberries, because they just sat there. I get lots of them all day long but not in these numbers. Weird.
© Patricia Heil, 2013-2018 All Rights Reserved
Definitions
I guess I'd better tell you why I sometimes head posts as "Old Bitch".
First, both those words are badges of honor.
I might not have been old. I'm a cancer survivor. 25 years ago as of June 2, 2013, I had my first chemo for Hodgkins' lymphoma. 25 years ago as of May 12, 2014, I had my last radiation treatment. I might not have been old. From here on out, everything is what they call lagniappe in N'Olns.
So I know what I have to be grateful for: all the things I've learned, all the things I've done, my nieces and nephews, my little house in a nice town, my garden, the birds and bees and butterflies I've been able to foster, the good I've done for the environment (think globally, act locally). Anybody who thinks yesterday's post was too romantic or enthusiastic, needs to look at it from the point of view of somebody who didn't die 25 years ago.
As for "bitch", that's the real badge of honor. When somebody calls me a bitch, I say "Why, thank you!"
When somebody calls you a bitch (or a bastard, guys) it's because they thought they had some sort of control over you and they are sad sorry and angry to realize they were wrong. It's an admission of guilt.
A woman I know from the Internet agrees and even came up with an acronym:
Babe
In
Total
Control
Hon
That's the Baltimore Maryland "hon."
Probably the most frequent thing that happens because I'm a bitch is that people just expect me automatically to agree with them and when I don't, they get upset. Somebody said this yesterday in a Dear Abby letter: you have a perfect right to say what you want within the limitations of the law on speech (defamation, fraud, clear and present danger, "shouting fire in a crowded theater") BUT YOU DO NOT HAVE A RIGHT TO EXPECT ME TO AGREE WITH YOU.
What they really hate is I can tell them why I don't agree, something nobody else in their experience does, and it's all fact and logic instead of wishful thinking. Of course, if I don't know anything about the subject I say so. And then I shut up. Which isn't what they expect.
Yeah you right. It's a turn off. But only for people who like to yap. Life's too short (see above) to sit around and listen to people yap when they are telling lies. I don't blame them when it's obvious they don't know they aren't speaking the truth. Those aren't the people who get mad at me.
The people who get mad at me are the ones who expected me to fall into their control because of what they said. See above.
But I have lots of things to blog about besides complaining about people who think I'm a bitch so don't be afraid that this will be one long blog full of bitching.
More than one people I've emailed with have told me, why aren't you blogging this stuff somewhere.
It's their fault if you think I'm a bore-blogger or something.
© Patricia Heil, 2013-2018 All Rights Reserved
I guess I'd better tell you why I sometimes head posts as "Old Bitch".
First, both those words are badges of honor.
I might not have been old. I'm a cancer survivor. 25 years ago as of June 2, 2013, I had my first chemo for Hodgkins' lymphoma. 25 years ago as of May 12, 2014, I had my last radiation treatment. I might not have been old. From here on out, everything is what they call lagniappe in N'Olns.
So I know what I have to be grateful for: all the things I've learned, all the things I've done, my nieces and nephews, my little house in a nice town, my garden, the birds and bees and butterflies I've been able to foster, the good I've done for the environment (think globally, act locally). Anybody who thinks yesterday's post was too romantic or enthusiastic, needs to look at it from the point of view of somebody who didn't die 25 years ago.
As for "bitch", that's the real badge of honor. When somebody calls me a bitch, I say "Why, thank you!"
When somebody calls you a bitch (or a bastard, guys) it's because they thought they had some sort of control over you and they are sad sorry and angry to realize they were wrong. It's an admission of guilt.
A woman I know from the Internet agrees and even came up with an acronym:
Babe
In
Total
Control
Hon
That's the Baltimore Maryland "hon."
Probably the most frequent thing that happens because I'm a bitch is that people just expect me automatically to agree with them and when I don't, they get upset. Somebody said this yesterday in a Dear Abby letter: you have a perfect right to say what you want within the limitations of the law on speech (defamation, fraud, clear and present danger, "shouting fire in a crowded theater") BUT YOU DO NOT HAVE A RIGHT TO EXPECT ME TO AGREE WITH YOU.
What they really hate is I can tell them why I don't agree, something nobody else in their experience does, and it's all fact and logic instead of wishful thinking. Of course, if I don't know anything about the subject I say so. And then I shut up. Which isn't what they expect.
Yeah you right. It's a turn off. But only for people who like to yap. Life's too short (see above) to sit around and listen to people yap when they are telling lies. I don't blame them when it's obvious they don't know they aren't speaking the truth. Those aren't the people who get mad at me.
The people who get mad at me are the ones who expected me to fall into their control because of what they said. See above.
But I have lots of things to blog about besides complaining about people who think I'm a bitch so don't be afraid that this will be one long blog full of bitching.
More than one people I've emailed with have told me, why aren't you blogging this stuff somewhere.
It's their fault if you think I'm a bore-blogger or something.
© Patricia Heil, 2013-2018 All Rights Reserved
Monday, August 5, 2013
Outdoors
It's a beautiful morning.
It's 60 degrees and zero percent humidity. August mornings are never like this in the D.C. area. At 6 a.m. it's usually 80 degrees and 100 percent humidity, and it gets worse as the day goes on, until you want to take cold showers three times a day to stay fresh.
The sun is just coming up and lighting the tops of the trees where I can see -- what are those, blackbirds or crows -- sitting in the top of an old oak When it comes into my yard it will light up the rich yellow of the cosmos and the saffron orange of the tickseed, the gold of the zucchini blossoms and possibly the dark magenta trumpet of a morning glory.
I have already heard my catbird mewing. I call him Flicker-jee because that's usually how he starts a run of vocal calls. He is hunting on my back porch for fugitive India Strawberries. A couple of months ago he was eating mulberries from a tree that he and his pals planted next to my fence. I know I didn't put it there and it wasn't there 20 years ago when I moved in.
Flicker-jee is keeping a super-close eye on my pokeweed. Yesterday while I was washing dishes I watched him pluck three berries from the poke outside my window. Last year I watched him teach his chick how good pokeberries are to eat.
He also basically owns my birdbath. Have you ever seen a catbird take a dip? Of course you haven't. They never take just one. They jump in, splash around, duck their heads under, jump out, perch securely in the shade, and rattle the water off their feathers. They'll do that a dozen times.
It's a beautiful morning.
It's 60 degrees and zero percent humidity. August mornings are never like this in the D.C. area. At 6 a.m. it's usually 80 degrees and 100 percent humidity, and it gets worse as the day goes on, until you want to take cold showers three times a day to stay fresh.
The sun is just coming up and lighting the tops of the trees where I can see -- what are those, blackbirds or crows -- sitting in the top of an old oak When it comes into my yard it will light up the rich yellow of the cosmos and the saffron orange of the tickseed, the gold of the zucchini blossoms and possibly the dark magenta trumpet of a morning glory.
I have already heard my catbird mewing. I call him Flicker-jee because that's usually how he starts a run of vocal calls. He is hunting on my back porch for fugitive India Strawberries. A couple of months ago he was eating mulberries from a tree that he and his pals planted next to my fence. I know I didn't put it there and it wasn't there 20 years ago when I moved in.
Flicker-jee is keeping a super-close eye on my pokeweed. Yesterday while I was washing dishes I watched him pluck three berries from the poke outside my window. Last year I watched him teach his chick how good pokeberries are to eat.
He also basically owns my birdbath. Have you ever seen a catbird take a dip? Of course you haven't. They never take just one. They jump in, splash around, duck their heads under, jump out, perch securely in the shade, and rattle the water off their feathers. They'll do that a dozen times.
© Patricia Heil, 2013-2018 All Rights Reserved
Sunday, August 4, 2013
Blog reboot
This is a reboot of a blog I started elsewhere, because I couldn't see how to publish it the way I wanted. Be patient, I'm just learning!
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