we briefly return to our main topic which so quickly became our second topic. (not that i'm complaining by ANY means.............

it's been a long time since i wrote of Israel.....

what a weird place. period.

three major cultures fraction into thousands of offshoots and branches; each distinct and unique, will still -slightly- borrowing concepts from their neighbors.
from the white kippaed rock-throwing chareidim to the russian orthodox monks in their black robes.
the skunk haired arsnim street punks sidestepping the mir student with his black borsolino.
and the american 'exchange' students-weaving through with the chienese tour group wearing the 'jesus saves' tshirts (acquired from the scandinavian scientolgy messiah deluge) on their way to see the dome of the rock.
all being half suspiciously inspected by the 19 year old idf private and the 75 year old ragtag beggar alike.

burning trash; graffiti; sounds of shouting talmud and obscenities- it's all here.

but you got to love it.
like that dysfunctional eclectic member of your family.
you love 'em. no questions asked.

(although they do occasionally piss the hell outta you.)

THE HAPPIEST MAN IN THE WORLD

just wanted to share this teeny bit of news with my extended web family:

I [soapmaker] HAVE ASKED THE HAND OF FLOR [aka bigtoe] IN THE HOLY UNION OF MATRIMONY.....
... AND SHE SAID YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

with thanks to God and love to you all, i sign off
-THE HAPPIEST MAN IN THE WORLD [aka soapmaker]

zzz- whuzzat?

whoa.
revelation.
woke up today (notice how i did NOT say 'this morning'...) and said 'thanks God' when it hit me:
i should be thanking Him for the ability to thank Him.
not only that, but it dawned upon me that as a person grows through the many stages of life, an enormous factor is their gradual ability to 'wean' themselves from their parents' ever-present hand.
though not so between man and his celestial father.
in fact, the more 'mature' (ouch that hurt my brain and palatte) we get, the more dependant we're supposed to be (any objections people?) on our maker.
and even though there are things that we may do that there's-nothing-wrong-with-doing or we aren't taking full advantage of the ability to earn reward (i.e. follow everything that's written in the good book) or even just getting a little 'away time', we/i-'ve always got to remember- 'yes, but is it the right thing?'
is it easier now for me to put on tefillin and learn all day? no. ....maybe-a-drop; but it's definitely gonna get me to think more...(as if i don't do enough of that already)

off the shore of the sea there's a village
whereby fishery's mainly its trade
and though most of its faces are rough and uncut
to the last one- each man makes the grade

not for riches is anyone wanting
though not one has seen gold in his life
but he's thankful for all he pulls of the the sea
and for health in his children and wife

but you might ask 'now how is it possible
'for a town of such like-minded men?
where even the simplest one of the lot
'pared with gentry is worth at least ten?'

it's a treasure they've found in the pale sunburnt sand
where the waterline dashes its curls
it's a sparkling gem that they manage to share
which is free but is worth more than pearls

it's a small little thing called compassion
and its's fueled by a kinship and care
it's a current abound in this small coastal town
and it sweetens the salt in the air

not a soul there is caught in the ratrace
for they know of no family named 'jones'
but the concept of 'what's mine is yours' is a term
that's netted deep down in their bones

it's a beacon of life force that permeates
through the veil of thin mist and thick foam
it's a light that beams through, calloused skin dyed with blue
it's the reason i call the place 'home'

shit.
if i could just cut my head off
to relieve this pounding head-ache
and every time i turn around
the world turns with me
-now i can't seem to find my way out of this ever spinning room
i've come to call my home.
and i've reduced myself to spouting emo-goth crap again
because i'm too fucked up to take my meds (God damn them to hell)
lord in heaven!!!
is it that i'm so screwed up that i've become the hypocrite i've always hated?
if i had no roots holding me down, i'd have blown [myself] away by now.

for all who know and care, i just want to say i love you so much;
when will i finally meet the real me and like what i see?
can i/will i ever make peace between me and my god and between me and myself?
(is there hope for the tattooed man?)

III

hum-de-dum.....
let's see...
this week [besides for the arrival of my favorite bean (sorry, private joke between me and the myself)] was uneventful.
stayed up in crack square all night.
saw the super/spider/robo/etc.-cops break up a fight.
pissed off a store keeper (i still don't know how).
nearly had a nervous meltdown.
almost busted a few israeli heads.
(notice the abundence of 'nearly's and 'almost's)
emmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm........ i think that's about it.
best wishes for an awesome year of
more smiles and less tears
more joys and less fears
and high hopes that mashiach is closer than 'near'

week two...

ah israel....
rude and noisy people, dirt abound, everything sun bleached and a bit shabby;
israel.
hit the kosel last friday night with the school; nice.
spent the other 23 hours sleeping and shooting pool.
sat. night- kicked it with the teen scene in ben yehuda.
sunday- hit some septic hole in tel aviv where they harbor rafts of medusas (and arrogantly/naively? call them boats) sat around in the bird dung playing in the sand.
monday met up with 2 old pals from hashkafa.com.
um.... nothing much for today, but tomorrow..... can't wait till tomorrow.

touch ground

ma nishmah chabibi?
(we have now reached the end of sj's extensive hebrew vocabulary)

israel's great.
plan ride was uneventful (though somebody has GOT to shut up all those damn seminary girls!!!)
arrived in israel in one piece (minus a duffle bag which as the reps at el-al say "will be 'ere wery soon")
cool grounds.
cool roommates.
cool rabbis.
cool school.

by now i know my way around town (being that i trekked alone through rachava, ended up at the kotel, went through sha'ar shechem, hiked through meah she'arim- all between the hours of 8pm- midnight and was still lost)
found out my 50 sheck expired 20 years ago. (how the hell does money expire?)

kotel tunnel toured today with the whole school.
the wildest part was when the dudes started pole dancing on the egged bus (geez, that was pretty weird)
umm.... that's it for now, i guess.
(off to go clubbing in ben yehuda...perhaps)

later y'all.
(end message)

i don't know why you say goodbye, i say hello...

congrat.s y'all.
be venting to y'all from the holy land.
(a whole fecking year!!)
don't worry- won't forget to wash behind my ears, look both ways before i cross the street, and post (i'll very try) weekly.


tearful hugs to all y'all (ESPECIALLY you-know-who) but i'll be back before you know it,
s.J.

argh!

today i hate the world.
hate it all.
from the bastard that stole my dad's chef to open a lousy donut shop
to the slimy s.o.b. that bought my dad's place to turn it into a 'kosher style' backwater deli dive that will cater to old conservative farts and their bi-religious grandchildren.
hate the store that my dad had.
hate the fact that he sold it.
hate the cell phones that turn so much precious living time into extended buisiness hours.
hate the raucous ringtones.
hate the meaningless conversations and the high decibel level of the talkee (the phone is there so you DON'T have to shout, asshole).
hate the yiddish peppered into conversations that don't require them.
hate the nosey busybodies that need to know every move you make.
and their counterparts who smile to your face and stab you in the back.
hate the politics between friends.
hate having to choose sides.
hate having to break ties.
and the fact that i'm too damn sensitive.
hate the fact that i won't swear on my own blog.
hate the fact that i'm so pissed.
hate my meds.
and the symptoms they're supposed to cure.
hatewhen God deals bad hands.
hate the world-

or do i just hate me?

latest news on the update

coming soon; i promise.

¡ i'm so goddam happy !

(and for $1.25 a piece, so are all these illegal aliens)

tribute to the tears

don't fuck all the rabbis.
just this one.
this one's for you dave:

if i'm being bad and unruly
you can give me the stare
sometimes i'm a menace-truely.
but don't you touch a hair

upon my head
you heard what i said
i'll write 'i won't whatever you want' a million times
but the minute you raise your hand
you've crossed the line

don't you dare take your aggravation out on me
we no longer living in the the 18th century
you punish by using kinetic energy
you no longer the instructor
you the enemy

when that hand met flesh
you broke more than the silence with the noise
you broke more than my selfworth in my eyes
when you hit me in front of the boys
you broke more than my blood cells
you broke every bond that i ever had
relating to any 'greybeard'

and so now i've had enough
with this shit you tryin' to sell
try it on the devil, schmuck
'cause you gonna be burnin' in hell

now every ham i eat
everytime i go counterpoint
every time i drive on saturday
everytime i light up a joint

i'll be thinking of you
that rabbi back in high school
the one the one who din't understand me- the fool.
if you's the icon of my religion
i don't ever wanna be a jew

so thank you rebbe
for this was the best lesson you ever gave
next time we meet
i'll be pissing on your grave.

though when yom kippur rolls round
i promise i'll be prayin'
but 'God let that bastard die'
are the only words i'm saying.

so let me wrap this up
i'm almost through
i guess all i'm trying to say is: fuck you
fuck you
fuck you
and everyone in your crew
who approve of what you do

sorry for taking up your precious time
sincerely,
-the one who slipped through.

what i'm afraid of

one two
one two
zap 'im again-he's gotta survive
gotta keep his damn religion alive

how did he expect
his spark to stay lit
if he don't do shit
blaming it all
on false prophets and hypocrites

so he's just one with god
no laws no rites
just be good
-courted his wife by the moon light
they were married within a fortnight
had some kids who're unusually bright

and while life's perfect for them
i don't mean to party poop
but the offspring's whole connection
is only matzha ball soup.

-but you're not roman catholic just 'cause you eat fettucini
how are they to know that there's more
than white doilies and white silk beanies
they know about their culture
with the same intellegence as a zuccini

and they're all going to sunday school
where a bunch of fools
try to teach that it's chilled and cool
to do what you want
and to act like a freak
as long as you're covered
by the end of the week

with your membership fees
and while you've got
less of a concept
than dirt under your nails
you've got plant your little tree
up in israel

and carried by people who don't know better
an ancient culture unravels slow
like an old torn sweater
but now their lives are much better
met a nice palestinian girl
think he's gonna go wed her
while her mother would blow up half of jerusalem
if they only would let her

but the couple in love say
'the show must go on
is there something wrong with having a channuka bush
and keeping ramadan?'

got a well groomed house, car,and yacht
a clear name up there with all the elitists
but their heirloom tapestry's
been soiled by graffitists

and too soon the spiritual is gnawed to the bone
and they're feel like they're on a desert island -so very alone
they go to israel, but they're strangers in their very own home.
cannot fathom what's so special about a wall of old stone....

so zap 'im again
one two
c'mon
let his kids walk in around in more
than spiritual longjohns

let them know that there's more to religion
than a bar mitzva and circumcision
4000 years of rich history
and one tiny dent starts the fission

on hold music

there's s/t rather unsettling about this cartoon;
maybe it's how true it is.

(no, i'm not a green party radicalist)

listen up

You stand by me
I stand by you
If there is a fight I'm the one to come to
Good and bad, times we've been through
You got my back and I got yours too
All of my life you are in my crew
I'd do anything for you
Beat someone black and blue
Black and blue and I'd do it for you
-the transplants.

i swear it. friends are family.
(never forget it)

no slurpees for the legless.

so i'm walking down the street, when i see the pakistani corner store owner arguing with this legless guy in a wheel chair.
as i get closer, i see the paki first pointing at the guy's nubs, then at the 'no shoes- no service' sign.
'i am sorry my friend,' the pak says in his authentic 'stani accent. 'but policy is policy'.

i nearly split my sides laughing.

a brief peek into the life of s.j.

could have sworn i was going to be in the obituaries tomorrow.

ripping down the high way with a few friends, high in cigar fumes, music screaming.
weaving in out of traffic, catching air on the uneven road, hearing the brakes sqeal as we turn corners on two wheels,
i watched numbly (partially due to the smoke inhalation) as the two front seaters egged each other which between them is a greater daredevil.

but even as we nearly started a 3 car pile up, the only thing going through my head was: 'gee, i hope they have clean boxers upstairs 'cause otherwise i'm going commando'

the critic's verse

poetry shmoetry.


bah.

writer's block

roses are red
violets are blue
writing poetry
is very hard.

------------
is this a repost? i can't find it.
[certain impatient people better be happy ; )]