The other day, during an undeserved break from work, we started to randomly Google people we haven’t seen in a while. We turned up nothing of particular interest, so in a spirit of what-the-hell we googled the term “shpotzir” to see what would come up. It would be gratifying to report several thousand hits, but in fact there were very few. Many pointed to the site you’re reading now. However, there was one that we didn’t recognize, and clicking on it we were taken to a page that offered a definition of a shpotzir, as well as some other diverting material.

We vaguely recall this as being part of Grandmaster Milt Ehrlich’s original website. It’s certainly his voice, though there is a strong possibility it was written by one of his sons. At any rate, we were highly amused by this bit about garage sailing (we choose to adapt the author’s colorful coinage)::

I think many items are highly collectible.  Once or twice, I have guests on my garage sailing. Depending on who is in town, some novices sit in as a navigator, which is position #3 in the heirarchy of garage sailing. Sometimes this is my extremely fearful wife, who likes to buy Japanese bisque dolls and keeps her hair in a bun. Sometimes a spiky haired friend of my son who has a rubbery face and a somewhat big nose came garage saling with me. He bought Americana. I consider that type of 20th century stuff crappy, but I didn't tell him so. I did manage to talk him out of buying a clock, which I then deftly bought after he put it down.This type of power move is for advanced players only.

You can read the whole thing here.

This find gave us an idea. As you may know, our staff has been trying to put together a comprehensive archive of the Shpotzir Newsletters produced on paper between 1995 and 1997. It’s been daunting enough just compiling the text, let alone designing a web-based recreation of the original designs. Re-reading the newsletter has been quite enjoyable, however, so we thought we’d post some of the better passages here, just to wet your appetite. The following is from the January 10^th, 1997 issue. Some of the names have been changed to protect us from liability:

The Talking Cure

We start off the New Year at the Talking Cure with some backative from the well-known author, Buddhist scholar, and self-described obeah-man Aram “Hebrew Styles” Ehrlich: 

Old fashioned swimsuits

I’ve never worn one, but once when I was eleven I went to Prince Edward Island with my father. I was wearing a tank-top with trunks, and he said “Michi, you look like me when I was when I was a boy at Coney Island.” I think it would be a good idea for those to come back in. It would be so out that it would be in. On the other hand, the far greater truth is that the notion of fashionable—”out” and “in”—should be permanently unfashionable. All magazines that have “What’s Hot and What’s Not” columns are wrong-headed. They’re a source of tremendous resentment and ennui.

Brits

I think Britain is an inherently cataclysmic society which undergoes periodic disasters and yet somehow survives. Their entire empire fell apart and they became a floating aircraft carrier for the United States, after more or less controlling the world a hundred years ago. And they had the Black Plague and so on. It’s just an incredibly awful, tooth-rotting society. I don’t know why they don’t have jobs, how they have the time to do this, but they actually have rallies anytime anyone tries to introduce fluoridation. Because they’re violently opposed to having teeth.

Applesauce

Probably one of the eleven great joys of my life. It calls to mind the 2nd Avenue Deli. New York when it was a Yiddish newspaper town. Rodgers and Hart. Of course, the first association is with latkas. But applesauce is also good on other things that you wouldn’t expect, like brisket, hamburgers, walnuts. It’s very diverse.

Sloth

Sloth is a huge issue. I have a problem being moderately active. I seem to vacillate between total hyperactivity— relentless, self-killing suicidal intensity—collapse—total exhaustion and immovable depression. I think a lot of my behavior is a reaction against fear of depression. Napping is a big issue for me. I can’t take a nap when it’s light out and wake up when it’s dark. The sun has disappeared and I find that appalling.

Ineze S. vs. Satrine B.

Ineze is more dangerous, but Satrine is more scary. Ineze is a powerful, crafty, Machievelian character, whereas Satrine is just. . . more like a Nazi, the banality of evil come to life. Faux Martha Stewart, Connecticut housewife who would be stirring this giant pot with your bones melting in it. Whereas Ineze would be more the type of person who, when she murdered you, it would be a crime of passion, and she’d be bashing you over the head with a candlestick and sweating and, like, grunting. You know, making some not very pleasant sounds.

Chris Wilcha

Well, because Wilcha is one of the most avid praisers I’ve ever met, he engenders this wild, nervous energy in me that has grooved itself into a repeated habit: whenever I see him now, I can’t stop praising him. I go into these semi-theistic worship sessions. Wilcha is kind of like the Buddha. The Buddha was just a human who was a symbol of the fact that we have the opportunity to achieve enlightenment. In the same way, Wilcha is a source of refuge. In times of stress you can say to yourself “Chris Wilcha is this guy from New Jersey who was into Eric B. and Rakim back in ‘86.” Which I, at least, find enormously comforting. He’s incredibly accurate in the way that he sees and articulates reality—he perceives its absolute essence with unblind accuracy. But the thing is, I also think that to some degree his intellectualism actually gets in the way of the functioning, or revelation, of his emotions. There might be a protective shield there. And please don’t receive this as a dis, Chris. But really, the most admirable thing about him is his persistent use of the words “dialectic” and “slushy” in the same sentence.

London

For a long time a very over-rated city. It was cool in the 1890s, and in the 1950s with the Edward Agee era, and of course the 60s. And I guess it was cool in the 70s, but it was really not that cool in the 80s, when I was there. And now its actually cool again because of the drum and bass thing. Drum and bass is a new musical idiom. Very post-jungle. What it is is two kinds of beats played simultaneously: a techno beat, at 200 beats per minute, and a hip hop beat, at 80 beats per minute. And this gives you a heart attack. Apparently there’s a real scene going on right now. Everyone’s talking about drum and bass.