The story of Purim—who knew?
“The advantage of the altered state is that the drinker is truly humbled once they are stripped of their intellectual cynicism. With alcohol in their system, drunken Purim partiers are paradoxically enabled to appreciate that only a higher power can truly discern between good and bad.”
I even cruised one site that pronounced “drink till you drop” as the official mantra of Purim, replete with rationale.
Sunday, March 20 is the day. At precisely 7:21 p.m. (EST) the sun will cross directly over the Earth’s equator. This moment is known as the equinox, which means “equal night,” because day and night are about equal in length all over the world during this period. Infoplease.com informs that “there is no shortage of rituals and traditions surrounding the coming of spring” and that “early peoples celebrated for the basic reason that their food supplies would soon be restored.”
The great Sphinx points directly to the rising sun that same day. Nowruz, the Persian New Year, begins. Easter is celebrated on the first Sunday after the full moon following the equinox—but before that, I’ll be lifting a glass, making noise and shaking my fist at the dastardly villain Haman, while dressing up and hitting the streets of Monticello, desperately searching for a party to crash.
Having no shortage of food (thankfully), I need to stock the bar, invite a few friends over and make sure that they know that “the rabbi made me do it” before getting the party going. I’m looking forward to the delicious Hamantaschen, shaped like the tri-cornered hat that bad-boy Haman sported back in the day, while plotting to kill the heroes of yet another cautionary tale. I’m looking forward to telling my neighbors that yelling and screaming in the streets is “a commandment” and starting a new tradition, under the guise of “just doing my part” to spread the joy.