As discussed previously, the Internet Asifa was unprecedented. Individuals of other faiths, and even of no faith, have discussed the problems of the internet, but never has such a large community come together in such a public arena (spending quite a bit of money) just to raise awareness of it. In my opinion, it should have been cheered and heralded in the wider media as the unprecedented event it was.
That was not the case, however.
Given the general media’s long-standing misconceptions about and animosity toward religious Jews, it is not surprising. Nevertheless, one might have thought that the media would have at worst been indifferent. Yet, that too was not the case. It was incredible how often and how much these bastions of free access to information not only failed to convey the content, but used their platforms to air the typical prejudices against the religious Jewish world.
You kind of expect the New York Post to come up with a headline like, “What a Kvetch at Citi!” Sadly, you also expect even the more “high brow” tabloids to freely employ the shameful pejorative “Ultra-Orthodox” (which among other things raises the question: Who are the Orthodox? In fact, I emailed that question to the writer of the New York Times article; so far no response). “Ultra”-Orthodox is a not-so-subtle way of saying “extremist.” It is the equivalent of calling everyone who is not religious “ultra”-secularist.
It was also inevitable that there would be outright distortions, such as an MSN piece that claimed the event was streamed live on the internet, which if taken at face value would be the epitome of hypocrisy. Yet, the report conveniently failed to mention that the live stream authorized by the event organizers was restricted to a small number of locations where women could watch the event as it occurred.
Among the many lasting impressions I came away with from the Internet asifa at Citi Field was the image of non-Jewish policemen and policewomen turning to face the dais in centerfield as Rabbi Ephraim Wachsman delivered one of the most passionate parts of his speech.
Throughout the event, police ringed the field, looking up at the stands as part of the special security measures. There were even snipers on the roof and NYPD helicopters circling above. No beer or alcohol was sold at the event; the police were not looking for unruly, drunken, brawling fans who might charge the field. Rather they focused their gaze up into the stands for possible terror threats – and, baruch Hashem, there were none, thanks in great part to their efforts.
Rabbi Wachsman’s English is flawless and eloquent: “Like the fly who enters the web of the spider,” he explained, “little strands of the spider’s web that don’t even equal a fraction of the weight of the fly [attach themselves], but another strand and another strand and another strand [get attached], and before he knows it he’s caught in the web, in the net….”
At times his voice was so powerful that it rose above even the roar of commercial jets that periodically flew overhead: “The internet is about the moment. It’s about the instantaneous; about the artificial, about the superficial. It’s about if you’re bored you click on something else. It’s about being fleeting and empty. Even secular educators and psychologists have been decrying the children are being turned into click-vegetables!”
As he continued he gradually increased the pitch of his voice: “You can see it in the ebbing of the light in the vacant eyes of the younger generation, of the jittery inattentiveness of our children, in the flippant and callous language and attitude, the cynicism … and the unbelievable breaches of [modesty]….”
Then he reached his crescendo.