The cow from Lublin
There were a Georgian, a Pakistani, an English couple and an Israeli standing in a jewelry shop in Heathrow Airport, terminal 5. The Israeli was tackling the difficult subject of buying an expensive piece of jewelry for his wife. Conscious of the fact that it had to be the right item, and also realizing that he could not bring it back to the shop, he had already spent 20 minutes in deep consultation with her via his mobile phone while she, decisive in her indecisiveness, was slowly but surely driving him mad. He was full of patience that day, which eventually helped the situation, and after putting his foot down very gently and guiding her in such a subtle way as to make her think it was her great idea, he bought the jewelry. He then told her that he was boarding the plane in five minutes and would speak to her when he landed. With an hour to go to his flight, he collapsed into a convenient chair located next to the saleswoman and finished the transaction seated. The Pakistani approached the Israeli. "Don't you know how to treat women?" He asked. "You tell them what to do, none of this 'yes dear, no dear,' bags of patience rubbish - put your foot down hard and say 'this is what I am doing, like or lump it!'" Children of Hamas
"Bastards", I shouted in a rare display of road rage as a couple of cars ran over a crossing narrowly missing a school child. Then I realized with a small amount of embarrassment and guilt that I had my children in the car. You have to careful what you say around kids, sometimes they don't understand and sometimes they twist what you say. A bit like the BBC. I switched on the radio in time to hear the news. We are all news junkies these days and we listen to or read the news on the hour every hour and all the minutes in between in the hope that someone will announce 'it's all over, the boys are coming home and we are safe at last'. Peace, but not 'Now'
Peace Now! What a great concept. Instant peace in return for, well, an Utopian existence where everybody beats their Kassams into ploughshares in the Garden of Eden. Just add diplomacy, add a little Joseph factor (sell your brothers) and a dash of cut your nose off to spite your face. Perfect. Now we can all sleep at night. I was surprised, no, - amazed, to read that at a recent 'peace immediately' demonstration, there were very few people from the South. You would have thought that those guys, being pounded by missiles, going through the trauma that you and I couldn't even imagine, would be screaming for peace. But no, the demonstrators were mainly made up of middle class Israelis from Tel Aviv. Extraordinary! To all you "embarrassed" Jews
When you come and live in Israel, that comfortable Diaspora fence you have been perched on all those years suddenly disappears. There is no more grey area; you're either for us or against us. It's ironic that such a symbol of security should also be the symbol of indecisiveness. Such is the nature of The Fence. It's easy to criticize Israel from afar, it's easy to be drawn in by the ludicrous political correctness, western liberalism and, in many cases, a sense of extreme embarrassment forced on and often embraced by Jews in the Diaspora. It's easy to shout and scream and criticize, worrying what your non-Jewish neighbors or colleagues may think, becoming the ultimate apologists. It's easy to scream from your comfortable pseudo-ewish ivory towers. What seems to be harder is for you to muster some sense of loyalty and support for your own people (Jews) and your own country ( Israel). (Just a reminder.) And there aren't enough righteous gentiles to save us all. Christmas Jews
This time of year is always steeped in nostalgia. Every Anglo reminisces about the lovely atmosphere during the season of good will, looking at the lights, the dressed up shop windows and the decorated trees. Oh, and those cold winter nights crunching through the snow. Ah happy days! Well, go back then if it was so wonderful. I have nostalgic moments too and then I remember how bloody cold it was, how I was excluded from the office parties because I couldn't eat their food, drink their wine and didn't want to wish every stranger 'Happy Christmas' and kiss some drunk secretary under the mistletoe. Ok, maybe the mistletoe thing... I was more interested in rushing home to light Hanukkah candles and publicize the miracle of how the few vanquished the many, how we stood on the brink of extinction, culturally and religiously, to be saved by an army and leader who knew that the Hellenization of the Jews would have destroyed them just as surely as any holocaust. So long and thanks for the hate'Weapon of mass destruction', reads the label, easy to use anytime anywhere contains pure high grade anti-Zionism /anti-Semitism. If the weapons dealers could have bottled it or encased it in steel they would have made a fortune. These WMDs can be made out of anything animal vegetable & mineral. The most powerful trigger is certainly the human voice striking in the name of hate, ignorance, propaganda, incitement, disinformation and indoctrination. In fact just about anything in any form anywhere in the world has been used in one way or another in the active pursuit of wiping the Jewish people off the face of the Earth. A light from the darkness of Mumbai
"Let us deal wisely with these people" Pharaoh said, as they cast all the baby boys into the river committing mass murder. But the parents of a little baby boy hid him, only for him to be saved by the kindness of an Egyptian Princess who named him Moshe. Every time I close my eyes I see that little orange ball. I see his messy blonde hair and the sad eyes of a baby boy who has witnessed terror beyond belief. I read all the papers, listened to the news and tried to find some light in the darkness but all I saw were the sad eyes and the orange ball. In denial about Islamic terrorWhenever we went on long car journeys when we were kids we would play all manner of word and general knowledge games. Describing the Prime Minister's cat with every letter of the alphabet (X was always a challenge, he was always Xenophobic), countries of the world using the last letter of the country (A was the best, Australia, would then become Austria, Angola, Albania etc) and then there was 'I Spy'. We have a new game, name a country that does not have a problem with Muslim fundamentalists, militia or terrorists. Now there's a challenge. An unfortunate drop of discrimination
The 7:43 train pulled out of Modi'in Central station. I sat on my seat mildly out of breath after a last second sprint and acrobatic dive saved me from waiting another 25 minutes for the next train. In the UK, when you're on public transport, the idea is to be as anonymous as possible. You don't look at anyone and you certainly don't speak to anybody. In fact, if you say hello or ask an innocent question about changing trains, people look at you with suspicion and you are immediately branded as strange and people will avoid sitting near you. Great, if you're on a packed train. Circle of life
The band, almost too loud to be audible in any musical sense, banged, blared and blasted. After initially being disappointed that my table was so far away from both the top table and the dance floor, I suddenly realized, looking around, that I was actually in very good company as all the bride and groom's close friends and family were seated in close proximity to me. |
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