For sure it’s bullshit, but whose?

Of late, I have posted a few of my collected thoughts on the site israelity.com. A trend seems to have been established there, albeit an unofficial one, to write a few words regarding whatever holiday the ancient Jews came up with for the particular coordinates of the suns location in regard to the moon, which revolves around the earth, at a particular time of year. The most recent moment in the space-time continuum was Purim. Being the good citizen that I am, I obliged. First, I churned out a related entry. Second, I posted the piece, which appears here in the same form, more or less, which even received a comment within an hour of being up. Third, it was taken down by my friend who is really a good guy, but has to act as an unwilling censor, mainly to watch his own ass.

Tuesday - the one past, depending when you’re reading this - seems to have been my special, Purim-style day. Under normal circumstances, my regular life would have nothing to do with a stupid Jewish holiday, but this one seems to carry with it the prospect of getting laid – much more so than on a Yom Kippur or Holocaust themed holiday.

My Purim experience started out with my unexpected attendance at BGU’s Middle East studies departmental Purim party. Lucky for me, it turns out that Purim isn’t really “Jewish,” but just another holiday that we “borrowed” from some other religion (Purim = Zoroastrian), perverting it for their own devious plan to introduce new and stupid, yet surprisingly tasty food products to the world’s diet. It’s kind of like McDonalds, except evil.

In case you’re curious and/or skeptical, all of this is true. It was presented by a fellow grad student who is not only hot, but she also used power point. I would have double-checked her story with god, but he is either dead or was out when I phoned. Whichever the case, I didn’t leave a message on his machine.

That evening it was off to a 70’s themed house party. My costume was Hyde, from That 70’s Show, accompanied by a friend who, as the spitting image of Ashton Kutcher, dressed as Kelso, no brainer. God damned Israelis though, for the most part, everyone dressed as brides or Arabs, from the 70’s I guess. What’s the deal with that? Despite our valiant attempts to chat up the ladies, it ended up being a dry night - though we got pretty sloshed.

In summation, a good time was had by all. No girlie action, but no worries. Passover or some other holiday just like it will be upon us soon enough. Yeah!

www.ISRAELITY.com

So, it has come to my attention that some of my faithful readers out there, of which there are at least two, would like to see me posting to my blog (web journal) more often. Fuck you.

If you were not already aware, I have also been posting on the web journal, www.israelity.com. The posts, Stop straddling the fence and choose a ‘cide, Secular butt-sniffing and ADD is a real bitch are mine.

You should check them out. Most of the other writers on the site are pretty cheesy and/or crappy. But show some support - comment on my postings first and on others second. You can make a difference and/or drink a bottle of wine. If you can do both in the same day, scooby!

We're all human beings, except...

Ben-Gurion University is a bastion of pinko, leftist liberalism, anti-Zionist and post-Zionist thought and some really hot women. It’s also home of the myth that its campus is the most integrated in Israel. A veritable cornucopia of Israeli Jews and Bedouin Arabs living, loving and learning together - all within the close proximity of a few city blocks and unrecognized villages.

A myth, ey? Want to hear about it? Here it goes.

It is true that our campus is the most mixed. But, integrated, well, not even separate but equal. State sanctioned racism, including unrecognized villages, gross lack of public transportation to Bedouin population centers and limited access to social services, are huge. Never the less, BGU does what it can to throw a few variables into the mix.

Most campus computers do not have Arabic characters on the keyboards. There is a campus synagogue, complete with a campus Rabbi, but there is no campus Mosque or Imam. If you're Christian, wondering where you fit in, you can bugger off; you're third on the list. And, the University website is not available in Arabic. Not even the site for The Center for Bedouin Studies and Development. Odd.

Now on to other Arabs. Bigger and scarier Arabs.

Palestinians, we sure do love ‘em. We even hold the namesake of our institution at fault for having done too little to prevent the life shedding conflict that we’re still in today – even Benny Morris, in his own, special way.

A couple weeks back, our student union hosted a group of young Palestinian entrepreneurs for a round table discussion. Regardless of what anyone might have to say about the event itself, an age-old truth was proven: Put a group of idiots in one room and words will be strung together in the most idiotic of ways.

Appetite whet for examples? Here’re some tasty tidbits for the most discerning palates.

A Palestinian man offered a few words of wisdom to commence the precipice of open dialogue. We are all human beings, he pointed out, adding that despite our external labels, inside we’re all the same. Shylock revisited: good point.

Banal as it may be, who’s going to argue this message? Our Dutch moderator apparently thought someone would and offered the mike. I half wanted to accept his offer and, with my amplified voice, agree with the notion that Palestinians and Israelis are, indeed, human beings, the same on the inside, with the exception of each groups’ homosexuals. But, then again, I also half wanted to maintain my welcome on campus and the various gay clubs I frequent. So I kept my mouth shut, as did everyone else.

Later, a fellow BGU student, a Jewish Israeli, was kind enough to pick up the torch of stupidity, offering a gem of a cliché. It seems the whole situation results from a lack of trust, she regurgitated, and then asked the inevitable, how do we build trust? Ooh, good one! With fucking trust Legos, obviously. Thank your unholy god, the response was a formulaic wet dream. One Palestinian guy admitted, in spectacular, yet misappropriated English, that he does not know how this much needed trust would be built, then offered the uplifting thought, that it must start with open dialogue.* Perhaps he meant the very same one in which he was participating at that very moment? Delicious!

Other comments included an Israeli Jew blaming the Palestinians for the entire conflict; a Palestinian countered with the reflexive myth that it’s all Ariel Sharon’s fault; a remarkably attractive Palestinian woman asserted that her people were here first and are, simply, innocent victims raped by Israel; which, was balanced out by a goofy looking Israeli Jew, whose fresh insight maintained that Jews have no where else to go while the Palestinians can choose from any one of the many Arab countries. Most shocking about that last one was that he went on to say he was not telling the Palestinians they could not stay, then trailed off, unable to complete his own ignorance. Poor sap, he must not have a good Palestinian friend enabling him to claim that he is not a racist.

Unable to further bear the suffocating nature of the exchange, I left the room. Upon exiting my shadow was waiting and actually spoke to me! “Six more years of conflict,” it said. That’s awesome, I was certain of another decade at least.

* A friend, of “a friend from out of town” fame, noted that it would have been appropriate and funny to have asked him to raise his shirt to see he was not rigged, reasoning that then we could trust him for sure.