☢️ Rand0m3x 🎲

In response to >this<:

Nothing… for the right audience. Is that audience here, though?

What if you listen to Jewish music for its own sake?

Syag, my intention was to contribute material to the general discussion of MO taking place on the CR – I didn’t expect much of a thread to result (I’d have been okay with getting no response whatsoever).

Any questions should be asked >here<, please.

Another get-the-fewest-points game, in which all players
choose the card they’re going to play at the same time.

6 nimmt! (aka Take 6(!), Take 5(!), Category 5, and Slide 5)
2-10p (very few or many players not recommended) / 8^ / 45m

The object of the game is to score the fewest points, which come from
cards that players will be taking over the course of the game.
The game consists of a deck of cards numbered 1-104 (we’ll talk about
how many points they’re worth later). Gameplay revolves around four
piles of cards. One card is placed on each pile to start, and the players
each start with 10 cards in their hands.
In a round, each of the players chooses one of their cards to play and
places it face down before them. The players then reveal their cards
simultaneously, and the cards are then placed onto the different piles
in lowest-to-highest order, as follows.
Each card is placed on the pile whose top card is the closest to it from
below (the highest number that is still lower than the card’s number).
For example, the 100 would always go on top of the 99 if it was there,
followed by the 98, etc.
If a card is not higher than any of the top cards of the 4 piles,
the player whose card it is must choose a pile and take all the
cards in it to keep, and the card they played then becomes
the top (and only) card of that pile.
If a pile reaches 6 cards, the player whose card was the 6th
must take the first 5 cards to keep, and the card they played
then becomes the top (and only) card of that pile

After 10 rounds, the players have no cards left. Scores are counted up,
and if any player has a score higher than 66, the game ends, and the
player with the fewest points is the winner. If no player has reached
66 points, all the cards are reshuffled and the game starts again,
with players keeping the points they had scored so far.

The point values of the cards are as follows (they have point symbols
on them, so players don’t have to remember all of this when scoring):
Numbers ending with a 5 – 2 points.
Numbers ending with a 0 – 3 points.
Doubled-digit numbers (11, 22, etc.) – 5 points.
“55” – 7 points (it’s doubled and ends with a 5).
All other numbers – 1 point.

This game is pretty high on luck. For a little more predictability and less
chaos, use only cards equal to the number of players times 10, plus 4
more, starting from 1. (For example, with 4 players, 1-40, plus 41-44,
or with 3 players, 1-30, plus 31-34.)

Akuperma, only one person is needed to convey a bioweapon into
a foreign country, and they can arrange for themselves not to be
contaminated with it, and leave the area before contagion becomes
a possibility. Even if they couldn’t, they’re one person and might be
considered expendable. I’m not sure what you mean.

My apologies, folks. Here’s a repost with better line breaks:

We, as chareidi Jews, do not define ourselves as “observant Jews,”
and very possibly this is the major distinction between “dati” or
“Modern Orthodox” and “chareidi.” A Modern Orthodox/dati
person puts great stress on fidelity to mitzvah observance.
He has no problem living a culturally secular life. Perhaps he
even embraces it, seeing it as an ideal harmony. (There are even
some who say that beliefs and believing should not enter into
the criteria of defining orthodox, just practice – i.e., orthopractice.)
We, however, feel that a Torah Jew is someone whose mindset
is Torahdig; whose heart throbs with the regesh of kedusha;
whose perspective on life is that this world is merely the
platform for accomplishment, but inherently this world
is transient. The chareidi Jew may (or may not) feel that
it is important to fully function in the outside world, but
we all agree that our thoughts, feelings, values, and culture
must be light-years apart. We shun spectator sports,
entertainment, the dining culture, and many more
cultural phenomena of the society around us.
The place and means for attaining this neshamah of
Yiddishkeit is the intense and formative years at yeshivah.
I am not sure how it happens, but being totally steeped in
Abaye and Rava, working at understanding the emes,
putting all our energies and emotions into Torah,
transforms us. For others, this chinuch also includes
working on shemiras einayim, being in close proximity
to people of stature, and infusing our tefillah with
undisturbed emotional energy. We are chareidi because
we spent all those years in yeshivah. For the difference
between chareidi and dati lies not in the color of the
yarmulke, or even in the exactitude of fulfilling mitzvos.
The difference lies in the mindset. And that mindset is
forged in those years of immersion in the Torah and
avodah, and relative isolation from the world around.
It also imparts an eidelkeit and ehrlichkeit, and all the
other middos tovos that we expect of a ben Torah.

(For context, here’s the rest of the article:)
Even if the army had no negative influence, the robbing
of our youths’ formative years as a ben Torah would be
a price that we could not pay. A chareidi Jew has but one
aspiration in life. He does not have a “dream retirement”
nor even dares contemplate it. We spend decades on the
chinuch of our (many, kein yirbu) children; we pay the vast
majority of our income for their yeshivos; and we hope to
continue working so that if they wish to learn they may
do so, and so that their children in turn should have the
opportunity to realize their spiritual potential.
Our tefillah is one: banim u’vnei vanim oskim b’Torah
uv’mitzvos. Our wildest fantasy is not the dream house
for our golden years; rather, it is being surrounded by
children and children’s children who are all ehrliche Yidden,
ovdei Hashem, and talmidei chachamim to the best of their
ability. The only way that this can happen is by intense
Torah study and total immersion in avodas Hashem at this
most significant part of one’s life.
This is our fiercest desire for every single one of our children,
not just for those mythical “1,800 iluyim.” True, it takes many
of them a few years to become full bnei Torah, but it is the
result that counts. Our definition of a Torah Yid is someone
who at least internally continues his “am l’vadad yishkon,”
even as the realities of life demand that he freely interact
with the world around him.

(Well, that’s obviously a great start. 🙂 At least now I’ll know where to put line breaks.)

It might have been unclear that after a player takes a card, that player,
not the starting player, must then choose whether to keep or refuse the next card.
I also forgot to mention that players’ remaining chips are kept hidden according to
the rules, although some people do prefer to play with them kept open.

The 7-day week probably dates back to Adam haRishon.