A declaration in 1993 by Rabbi Arthur Waskow in response to the impending danger of global warming and other ecotastrophes brought about by the callous harm of human industry and land use decisions. Translated by Rabbi Zalman Schachter-Shalomi. . . .

A megillah attesting to the terrible events of World War II from the vantage of North African Jewry in Casablanca. . . .

The Megillat Saragossa (also known as the Megillat Syracusa) in Hebrew and English, named after the tale of rescue and reversal of fortune in the cultural memory of some Sepharadi communities, to be read on the 17th of Shəvat. . . .

Presenting the full, somewhat short text of the Megillah of Sebastiano, telling the story of a great miracle that occurred to the Jewish community of Morocco on 1 Elul 5338, or August 4 1578 CE. On that day, King Sebastian of Portugal attempted to conquer Alcácer Quibir in North Africa — and inevitably to force the inquisition on the Jews of Morocco. But he was turned back at the last moment, protecting Moroccan independence for several more centuries. This scroll is traditionally recited in Jewish communities in the Maghreb to celebrate the repulsion of the Portuguese. . . .

Behold, a full text of the Megillah of Fustat, telling a story of a great miracle that happened in 1524 CE (5284 AM). . . .

One of many variants of this notorious work, the Sefer Toldot Yeshu is an irreverent retelling? a bitter deconstruction? a mocking parody? of the Christian narrative of the birth, life, and death of Jesus of Nazareth. Taking its general structure from the gospels, it coöpts and alters it to make the main character look like a petty, vindictive sorcerer, his disciples into either sectarian liars or loyal rabbinic plants, and his followers into easily duped fools. Toldot Yeshu was a very popular work in medieval times, and you can tell — this sort of a text was certainly written by someone whose primary relationship with Christians was fear. It’s the bitter invective of an oppressed people without power for themselves, the dirty laundry that two thousand years of murder leaves behind. It’s also, just, like unspeakably, hilariously crude. Have a garlicky Nittel, everyone! . . .

The Words of Gad the Augur is a lost work mentioned in I Chronicles 29:29. It is also an apocryphal Hebrew work of fourteen chapters, attributed to the Jews of Cochin in India. Most famous for its unique verse for the letter נ (nūn) in its variant of Psalms 145, this text also features multiple unique midrashim, reworked Biblical texts, and Hebrew forms and names not found elsewhere. . . .

Perhaps Megillat Antiokhus could be read a la Esther on Purim (the holiday with the most similarities), going to Eicha trope in the upsetting parts. A few notes: on the final mention of Bagris the Wicked I included a karnei-farah in the manner of the karnei-farah in Esther. I also included a merkha kefulah in the concluding section, which (according to David Weisberg’s “The Rare Accents of the Twenty-Eight Books”) represents aggadic midrash material. It also serves as a connection to the Chanukah haftarah, which is famously the only one that has a merkha kefulah. –Isaac Mayer . . .

The story of Toviah (Tobit) in Hebrew translation, in an abridged version arranged for public reading on the second day of Shavuot. . . .