As I read through the collection of ideas  -- big and small, new and not-so-new -- that make up this project, I’m struck by how many of them are attempted game changers.

Even the ideas that aren't big, huge, transformative are still presented with the scent of hope that somehow they will revolutionize Jewish life. We've proposed models to reinvent Jewish media, Jewish outreach, Jewish education, and pretty much any thing else Jewish. We've proposed -- as Patrick Aleph did with idea #2 -- to tear down the old and start anew. We've proposed -- as Ami Eden did with idea #1 -- to pool our collective resources in a broad new initiative, and we've proposed -- as Ari Wallach did with idea #6 -- to update old behaviors in tech-assisted new ways.

Most of these ideas are sexy. They're bold and visible, impacting mostly on the front-end of Jewish life. They're just the kinds of ideas that can seduce philanthropists, score seed money, and yield yet another Jewish venture. Few of them address the underlying weaknesses of or seek to reinforce the existing Jewish structures, because most of them are offered up on the premise that existing Jewish structures are inherently flawed.

Yet from everything I've seen, in the new Jewish ventures and the established Jewish institutions, there is more that can be done within the system than outside of it. Day after day, as I read Daniel Sieradski's precursor to this project, I kept having the same thought, "This would be a wonderful project for the synagogue I work for to undertake." The irony is that so many of his ideas are born from the Jewish DIY movement and so many of them are geared to building a Jewish life outside the synagogue.

Why this false dichotomy?

To be fair, I'm painting with a broad brush. I know Daniel, know that he'd be thrilled to see a synagogue commit sufficient resources over a sustained period to see these ideas to fruition. Almost all of the contributors to this project are trying to work within the existing system, even if only out of practical necessity.

Yet there remains this implacable notion that institutional Judaism is a staid place where only the biggest checkbooks get any real say, where the inertia of the old ways and sociopolitical orthodoxies overwhelms any real innovation. It is true that big funders can have an outsized influence, and that organizations sometimes outgrow their mission. Old methods are sometimes too slow to evolve.

But that's hardly the entire picture. Institutional Judaism is also a place where resources are available, funders are willing to bankroll merited ideas, and practically everyone is ready to jump on any idea that works.

And it should be said, there are lots of ideas that work, including many listed here. I have my job as director of communications at The Temple in Atlanta because of a commitment to exploring those ideas, and I'm lucky to see young families and young leaders pour into the community every day.

I'm less interested in changing the game than I am in playing it at the highest level of competence. The question, for me, is what are the weaknesses? What are the structural points that need reinforcing? How can I build a sustainable game plan for the institutions that will outlive me and my involvement?

So here's my big idea: Stop having big ideas. Instead let's all get together and do what Ami Eden and Ari Wallach suggested. Let's pool our resources and build the strongest technical back-end we can for the organized Jewish world.

Time and again I'm struck by how under-resourced the back-end is, even at large Jewish institutions. Our user databases are static and full of holes in the data, making it near impossible to target our outreach and communications. So we rely on an outdated broadcast model and wonder why we have a hard time reaching people. That's just one example.

In Idea #8, Rebecca Guber  proposed a residency program for Jewish artists. What if Jewish philanthropists came together to endow a communications and technology residency program, placing Jewish communications and technology professionals at synagogues across the country? (I keep focusing on synagogues, because I firmly believe they're the one place where all Jews can come together regardless of their background, politics, or bank account.)

I guarantee you there are sexier ideas out there. This isn't always fun work. In fact, it's often a dreary slog. Funders will likely get more immediate bang for their buck elsewhere, but in the long run they'll get more bullets for their guns by investing in the back-end.

(Bradford R. Pilcher is the director of communications at The Temple in Atlanta. The synagogue, founded in 1867, was listed by Newsweek magazine as one of America's 25 most vibrant congregations. Pilcher's work has included stints at Jewsweek.com, American Jewish Life magazine, and Jewish Funds for Justice. Visit The Fundermentalist  to read "Idea #8: jewish Artists Residency" and stay tuned to ejewishphilanthropy for Idea #10. You can also visit 28days28ideas.com for the full list of ideas as they progress.)

Let's face facts: a ton of Jews celebrate Christmas. Half of all Jews are in interfaith relationships. And many other Jews of the more "secular" flair choose Christmas because of its connection to Americanism (such was the case of Irving Berlin who wrote the song "White Christmas" despite being Jewish and an uber-Zionist to boot).

The Hasidim teach that the spark of G_d is everywhere. So is it possible that HaShem is in Christmas as well? Yes, Virginia, the G_d of Israel can be found in the dreary haze of post-Chanukah Red and Green retail.

The Jewish values of Christmas are:

Family: Jews are the world's smallest extended family. And although we may not agree on everything, we respect and celebrate each other as spiritual kin. This is the greatest theme of Christmas; people coming together as one to celebrate the end of the year, to renew family traditions, to patch up old grievances and party it up.

Giving: many families are going without this year. Holidays make us more aware of the abundance that we have and remind us of the less fortunate. There is no holiday in the Jewish lexicon that prevents someone from giving tzedakah. And by dropping a coin in the Salvation Army box, buying pre-bagged canned goods at the grocery for a hungry family or throwing an action figure in the Toys For Tots bin, one is committed to the greatest Jewish value: Tikkun Olam, repairing the world.

Reverence: while Christmas reveres the birth of a man that we do not consider holy, remember that the Torah tells us that all good people, regardless of their background, have a place in the World To Come. Reverence does not have to be culturally fixated. I revere Gandhi, but I am not a Hindu. I revere Martin Luther King, and I am not black. As for Jesus, I can revere a man who wanted to care for the sick and open Judaism up to the gentiles, even if I don't believe he was the Messiah and fear the violence against the Jews that has been committed in his name. 

So "Gut Yontif" to my fellow Jews who find themselves wiping the menorah candle wax off their table to make room for Christmas cookies. Find a way to bring HaShem into this time and take pride in this very important fact: most egg nog is OU Kosher! 

I want every Jew to change their last name.

Katz, Goldberg, Weinstein...these names need to perish into the history books.

Am I suggesting the complete obliteration of hundreds of years of familial titles? Am I suggesting that we disconnect the one thing that keeps some people Jewish? Eliminate our historic, Old World flair?

You bet I am! And for a very good reason. But first, I have to get personal.

Patrick A is the name I use in my daily life. I only recently started calling myself Patrick Aleph because I could not blog on many sites (including this one) as "Patrick A." But Patrick A is my name in every way: my stage name, my writing name, the name I use at my job, the name my friends call me, it's everything. You can tell immediately, though, that the name "Aleph" is a Hebrew character, and not an "actual" last name. No one knows my family name. And they'll never know.

The Jewish Name Game is an amazing sport. At shul, a networking event, or any situation where name tags are involved, Jews go into Jewish Geography overdrive. "Your name is Grossman? Is your family from Monsey? Did they own the glatt deli down the street from Temple Beth Blah-Blah-Blah? Oh, my G_d! We went to summer camp together!"

This can be fun, and I've played this game before. But it has a dark side to it.

Jews have banded together through history because of persecution. So a Jewish last name was a "screw you" to the establishment. And when two Jews met, they had an instant connection, a feeling of safety and comfort in each others presence. A name was an easy way of saying, "don't worry, we're in this together".

In a world where anti-Semitism is becoming less a reality and more of an inside joke, what happens to the Jewish Name Game? It becomes a commercial nightmare; a transactional tool that is exploitive and frankly, demeans the Jewish people.

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Rabbi Ain is a rock star in the radical Jewish community. This guy leads one of, if not THE MOST, progressive congregations in the world. New Shul is a model for what is possible when you combine creativity, a love for the Jewish lifestyle and a community filled with spirit.

I took a deep breath and suddenly it happened: the phone rang. It was Ain.

I put on my "poker voice". As chill as I could, I picked up the phone.

"This is Patrick A, how may I help you?"

What a pussy thing to do! You know it's Ain! Don't be such a wuss.

"Patrick, this is Dan Ain from New Shul. How's it going?"

How the fuck does he think it's going? "OK, OK," I think to myself, "it's just a phone interview. You have the questions, you love this guy! Just make it happen."

We chat for a bit and then he drops a bomb on me.

"I loved your post on Jewcy.com about why you believe in G_d."

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[This is a response to yesterday's post by Patrick Aleph, "Why I Believe in G-d, And You Should Too."]

Go right ahead and believe! I tried to believe in G-d, but couldn't take the leap.

First, thank you, Patrick, for not trying to use logic or science to argue for the existence of a supernatural being. Those arguments fail, always.  As your religious experience illustrates, people don't need science or logic to believe in G-d. There is a very good "reason" to believe: afeeling, a powerful emotional connection, a gut-level knowing, a leap of faith.

Human behavior is largely irrational and emotionallydriven about many things -- most things that matter, anyhow. So, keeping that in mind, I see no problem with people throwing logic to the wind and taking a leap of faith to believe in G-d. However, I do have to pick one nit: please give us atheists some credit -- just because we don't believe in G-d does not mean that we "don't believe in something other than bagels and Seinfeld."

Science and faith are not an either/or. It's not just science that I believe in. Science is an amazing tool that we witness the truth of every time we switch on a light, make a phone call, or are helped by medicine.I whole-heartedly believe in the power of science to advance our understanding of the world.

However, science is limited when it comes to understanding what should be. Biology and evolution have a something to say about ethics and morals -- at least, how they may have developed. But as far as helping me determine how I, one human being on this Earth living one lifetime, should live and find meaning in my life -- science does a terrible job.

So what do I do? I choose to believe unsubstantiated things which I feel wholly, in my gut, to be true. Some of things are that people matter, that Jewish people matter, that Jewish peoplehood matters, and that Judaism is a positive force in the world. It is important that I support Jewish peoplehood and have made it my life's work to do so. It is important to raise my child Jewish.

Without G-d I "believe that the world is worth more than what [I] canpillage and rape from it." Way beyond that: I feel connected to the world and humanity and that my life is meaningful. Can any of these things I take on faith be shown through science or reason that they really matter -- as in up in the sky, ultimate truth Matter with a capital M? No. However, I feel these things to be true so I choose to believe. I think it's great that you get a similar sense of connection and meaning through G-d. But when it comes to me and G-d, I'm just not feelin' it.

"Is you a Hebrew?"

"So y'all believe in Jesus, right?"

"You can't eat pork? What about ham? Or sausage?"

You'd be surprised how often I get asked questions like this.

It's funny being one of the only Jews in your small town outside Metropolitan Atlanta, Georgia. In a forty five minute car ride, I can be in the Jewish ghetto with a kosher grocery, a Judaica shop run by a bitchy Orthodox Yenta and every flavor of shul known to humankind. 

But when I'm out at the bookstore, eating Chinese, getting my car repaired, I'm "it". 

It starts out harmless. Someone sees my Star of David tattoo and can't help but ask what that means. Or in the headache inducing haze of red-and-green-December-cheer I get the balls to look for menorahs at Target, only to have the friendly sales associate laugh at my Jesus-less request.

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I've been stalking Israeli indie rock band Monotonix for about three years now.

I first heard about them while I was on a desperate search to find a booking agent for ? and the Mysterians, who fell in my lap after singer ? lost his house in a tragic fire and was looking to book a tour to fund rebuilding his home.

I knew of a girl in San Francisco named Michelle Cable (of Panache Booking) who had a really cool roster of experimental and garage-y rock bands like Numbers, Mika Miko, Aids Wolf, The Slits, etc.  I hit up her website to find out if she worked with the Mysterians.

It was there that I stumbled upon Monotonix. And I was impressed, to say the least.

Thanks to the kind people at Drag City, I had the opportunity to listen to new album Where Were You When It Happened. It's a winner: proto-punk, hard rock and southern fried cabaret that sounds like a metal-induced hipster dance party. Songs like My Needs and I Can't Take It Anymore could easily be actual classic rock, revisited by basement punks. And As Noise and Hunt You Down could have been written by Jack White in a mountain cabin in the woods of North Carolina. This album is worth your time.

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Hey there! Jewcy contributor, Patrick Aleph of Can!!Can band and PunkTorah, and I are doing these quirky shopping-channelesque videos where we discuss items we sell on ModernTribe.com, the design-forward Jewish gift shop and host of the Jewcy Store. We'd like some help coming up with a name for this "show" which we hope to do regularly. If you haven't seen our videos they are below. Please comment to suggest names.

We will choose a name and the winning suggestor will win the Doodlebook Frame (with original art).

Don't be mean or inappropriate, please!