The Jerusalem Post has once again lowered its journalistic integrity by publishing yet another one of Psycho Gal’s rants. This week she really takes the cake in achieving this low level status for the paper by saying that…

What are we to make of the fact that no one has taken credit for Wednesday’s bombing in Jerusalem?

Wednesday bombing was not a stand-alone event. It was part and parcel of the new Palestinian terror war that is just coming into view. As Israel considers how to contend with the emerging onslaught, it is important to notice how it differs from its predecessors. On a military level, the tactics the Palestinians have so far adopted are an interesting blend of state-of-the-art missile attacks with old fashioned knife and bomb-in-the- briefcase attacks.

The diverse tactics demonstrate that this war is a combination of Iranian-proxy war and local terror pick-up cells. The attacks are also notable for their geographic dispersion and for the absence thus far of suicide attacks.

So, her ‘logic’ seems to be if no one has taken credit for Wednesday’s bombing, ALL Palestinians must be guilty. At least, that is what I read into this.


She concludes this week’s rant with…

The Palestinians recognize that they don’t need to pretend to be good to get Europe to support them. After the people of Europe have been brainwashed by their media and intimidated by the Muslim communities, they have developed a Pavlovian response regarding Israel whereby every mention of Israel makes them hate it more. It doesn’t matter the story is about the massacre of Israeli children or the bombing of synagogues and nursery schools. They know that Israel is the guilty party and expect the governments to punish it.

What the Palestinian silence on who committed what atrocity tells us is that in this new terror war, the Palestinians believe they cannot lose. With Europe in tow, Fatah and Hamas feel free to join their forces and advance both militarily and politically.

As of this posting, her column does not yet appear on the Post’s Website, but I did find it HERE …. just in case anyone wants to read the entire rant.


Much of Diaspora Jewry has a common trait, that being greatly concerned about how certain events might affect their community. This might appear to be a normal trait, but definitely not the case when there is always an assumption that everything that happens is happening to harm them.

When the leadership of the Black Panther Movement raised the slogan of ‘Black Power’ there was near panic in many of the Jewish ghettos of New York. They assumed that the Blacks intended to ‘take over’. It was explained to them that all it meant was that Black communities felt they should be represented in various government offices by candidates of their choice. There was no intention to overthrow the establishment, there was however, a desire to become a part of the establishment.

When the Dodgers left Brooklyn for Los Angeles it was announced that Ebbets’ Field would be torn down and housing projects would be built on the property. Again, near panic. “What would that mean to the Jews”? Meaning, ‘will these projects, in walking distance of our community become home to non Jews, non Whites in particular?’ Heaven forbid they should live walking distance from them if it was to be the case.

When Barak Obama was nominated to be the Presidential candidate of the Democratic Party, sighs of Oy and Vey were heard resounding from every Jewish community across America. “What would his election mean to the Jews, particularly what would his attitude be towards Israel”? Never was it asked if he would be good for America itself, that was a secondary concern.

In all of the above instances it was extremist groups such as the JDL and their echo the ADL that encouraged such lines of thought, always trying to impress upon the communities in question that they were unique, special, Jewish….. In all of the above instances the Sheeple in the communities fell for this.

Due to recent events in the Middle East we have seen a repetition of these attitudes; Movement to restore Democracy in Egypt ….. “What does this mean for Israel”? ….. never once heard, “What would this mean to the Egyptian people”?

There are many more examples of this in Israel, but this is the ‘dilemma of the week’.

Again, these attitudes are encouraged by the very wrong Right. Some might conceive it as self preservation, when the reality is that it is self destruction. It is the basis for a new book that could be called ‘How to NOT Make Friends and Influence People’.

It’s time for these Sheeple to join the human race and start acting like PEOPLE!

It’s time to START thinking and stop trusting the TV News!


Wow! It makes me feel old writing this particular post, but I thought it might be interesting to some of the younger folks out there to see how life was before the advent of the WEB and computers.


Before the Blog, there was a ‘soapbox’. Cindy Sheehan even calls her Blog Cindy Sheehan’s Soapbox.  And just what was a soapbox? It was literally just that, a soap box! They were set up in strategic spots in crowded areas, usually public parks. Union Square in New York was a popular place as was the Speakers Corner in London’s Hyde Park. ‘Speakers’ mounted the box and spouted out their political or religious opinions to sometimes large crowds of people.  There were usually the same people doing this day after day.

Today we can do this via our Blog or Website without ever meeting another human being face to face…..


Every day I get a dozen or so emails that someone is following me on ‘Twitter’. In the ‘olden days’ the only people that ever followed me were perverts or FBI Agents. How times have changed. Today, via the NET, I am  followed by perverts, trolls and zionists that go as far as to crosspost whatever I write and get new readers for my Blog. I am sure this is not their purpose, but that’s what is happening.

We are also followed today by a system known as GPS. If you have a cellular phone, your location and movements can be tracked by government agencies or the local police. A bit disturbing to say the least….


Also every day I get a dozen or so requests (usually from total strangers) to be my friend on FaceBook. The strangest requests are from people that have already been my friend for over 60 years.

What makes them think that joining them on FaceBook will bring us closer? All it seems to do is open ourselves up to the perverts, trolls and zionists that are  following us on the WEB…. why give them another venue?

Before the advent of the WEB, if you wanted information on anything you went to a reference book, the library or a newspaper. Today you click on Google or another search engine and usually find exactly what you are looking for. Just think of all the trees that have been saved a a result of this. We no longer need books, libraries or newspapers.


If our computer ‘freezes’ or stops operating at its maximum capacity, we simply switch it off and start it up again. This usually does the trick. Family vacations were the ‘trick’ of the past. Families and friends would pack up their suitcases and go someplace to have fun…. to spend quality time together ….. to recharge their batteries. Today, the concept of family and friends is completely different, AND NOT IN A GOOD WAY. As much as I enjoy the WEB and the modern technology of the day, I miss the human touch …..

In days gone by we used to get a nice big hug from our loved ones…. today it’s the ‘virtual hug’ …..

(~~~ HUGS TO ALL OF YOU ~~~)
It’s just not the same 😦



I live near the university in Jerusalem in a fairly mixed and tolerant neighnorhood. Most of the residents here own there own apartment, but there is a sprinkling of renters as well. Many of the renters are students who pile themselves into the flats opting out of taking up residence in the university dorms.

Having a spare room, I always rented it out to students. That’s how the following saga began about fifteen years ago….. I ‘dared’ to rent out a room to an Arab law student. I am not what you could call your ‘normal’ landlord, you live in my home, you become part of my family. A simple fact of my way of life. This case was no different, in fact let me give a little background info as to how this came about…

Fifteen years ago a neighbour came rushing down to my apartment to inform me that my solar boiler on the roof was leaking. I ran up to check it out and sure enough, she was right. I went out to the front of the building to see if water was running down the side. In front of my window two young men were sitting on the grass reading the newspaper. I greeted them and we started talking, one lived in the building next door, the other in the university dorms. I invited them in for coffee and when they told me their names I realised that they were both Palestinians, one was Hassan, the other was Azmi.

Azmi turned out to be a most interesting young man and a friendship was sparked, one that has lasted through two intifadas and much turmoil in the country we live in. About a month after we met I found a note on my door when I returned home from work … it simply said, ‘please call me’, which I did. Azmi wanted to know if he could come over to discuss something. He arrived and was silent…. I told him I thought he wanted to discuss something. He replied that he did, but it was a stupid idea that wouldn’t work. I insisted that he let me be the judge of that, so he proceeded…. he said that the school term was over and he had to move out of the dorms. Although he knew me for such a short period he had the idea that we might be able to live together in the same apartment…. but ended the thought with “but I know that would be impossible…. you are a Jew, I am a Muslim, these things just don’t happen”. I looked at him with a look that said “that’s ridiculous”! I told him that the only problem of him moving in with me was that I would not be his landlord, he would become a son to me. He had no problem with that and before the sun set that day he was all moved in.

This is not to say that others didn’t have problems…. not all of my neighbours were that keen on having an Arab living in such proximity to them. The first indication of this was a visit from an upstairs tenant. She heard Arabic spoken in the hallway and wanted to know if I knew anything about it… I told her the Arabic was a language commonly spoken by Palestinians so it was probably people visiting someone in the building …. even more likely, visitors to someone that lives in my apartment. The neighbour was speechless, which was welcome considering the alternative.

Then the fun started…. the very basis for this post….
Azmi became a lawyer after graduation and set up a private practice in East Jerusalem. Lawyers get mail…. lots of mail, so his name was added to my mailbox. About a year later there was a knock at my door, it was a sales agent from Remax, a real estate company. She had a ‘problem’ and proceeded to tell me about it. There was an apartment for sale in my building and she was handling it, but because there was an Arab name on my mailbox, three prospective buyers refused to even enter the building to see the apartment. She requested that I do something about it, which I promised I would…. the very next day five other Palestinian families living in my building put their names on their mailboxes. Problem solved!

The nerve of that woman….. an employee of an American firm that franchises their operation in Israel attempting to get me to play racist …. no way no how! This was not the first incident of Remax’s role in the ethnic cleansing of Israel, another example can be seen in THIS link from an earlier post. My way of life is uncompromisable despite efforts by outfits such as Remax.

That wasn’t the end of my involvement with Remax … five years ago Azmi wanted to rent an apartment of his own for his growing family, a wife and three children. There was one for rent right above my apartment, an ideal situation for all of us. The rental was being handled by Remax. The manager of the local branch was not keen on getting the reputation of being the sole real estate company in the area that rents to Arabs. The only way they would agree to rent the premises to Azmi was if I agreed to have the lease put in my name, which we did. I guess we could have taken the firm to court and made a case out of that, but we wanted to remain in the same building as a family and so we did not make an issue of this.

I was reminded of all of the above because after 15 years, I had to have my solar boiler replaced today. This, just days after the latest tirade of rabbinical racism.  Nothing and no one can change my lifestyle and principles. Racism is as alien to me as those that spout it out. If no one listens, they are defeated …. AND THAT THEY WILL BE!

The rabbis threatened that “Anyone who sells (property to a non-Jew) must be cut off!!” , Remax endorsed that position years ago. As far as I am concerned, both are cut off from my way of life!

Hopefully others will follow our example, a road that can and will lead to a permanent peace in this Godforsaken land they call the ‘Holy Land’.



Reflections of an ‘unAmerican’ American

As a child in elementary school I was taught many songs about ‘my’ history. One that comes to mind was called ‘My Country Tis of Thee’….
“Land where my fathers died”…… what a confusing line to someone whose father was very much alive…..

Was the system trying to force an identity onto me?

And what about the tales we were told about the Pilgrims, the first Thanksgiving, etc. , etc. What possible significance could these have to a child whose parents immigrated to the United States from Eastern Europe just a few years earlier?

And what about the students of Afro-American heritage…. why were they denied a true picture of what really happened to their ancestors? Not until Alex Hailey wrote the book ‘Roots’ were many of the facts exposed.

We were told that America was a ‘melting pot’….. that’s fine, but what about the ingredients in that pot? The school I attended was in a working class Jewish community in the southern part of Brooklyn. We were ‘taught’ that America was a ‘Christian’ nation. What was ironic about this is the fact that those that taught us this were for the most part Jewish. So, just what did that mean? Were we to lose our identity as Jews and start calling ourselves Christians?

Christmas and Easter were both Holidays for us, yet we did not celebrate them at home. Did that make us ‘unAmerican’? Somehow the term ‘melting pot’ did not fit, it was more like a slow cooker where the ‘minority ingredients’ were either burnt away or totally blended in with the other ones in the mix.

There was a sprinkling of non Jews in my school, there were Puerto Ricans whose families moved up north to secure a better life. There were a handful of Afro- Americans as well as some students of Chinese origin. All had a culture of their own, and all were denied that culture…. it just wasn’t American. It was a confusing situation for all of us.

When John Kennedy threw his hat in the ring to become the next President we heard ramblings that he did not stand a chance because he was a Catholic. Were Catholics not Americans? Were we forever to be ruled by the predominant WASPS? Again, a very confusing situation.

Brings to mind a joke that my grandmother used to say to me; You are American born, that means that one day you can become the President…. of the local synagogue…. There was allot of truth in what she said, yet, I was to feel proud to be an American….

The Cold War presented new challenges to our ‘nation’….. “America, love it or leave it!” WTF????? Was dissent not allowed? Was criticism not allowed?? What about the ideals set down by our ‘Founding Fathers’ when the ‘nation’ was established? Was all of that merely documents to be viewed in museums? Were we to believe that the Constitution and Bill of Rights were totally outdated and invalid? On one hand we were taught about the glorious principles of ‘our’ Revolution, on the other hand we were taught that to believe in those principles was unAmerican. Whatever happened to the concept of ‘We the people’? should that be changed officially to ‘We the Sheeple’? Again, a most confusing situation.

So, I ask, where do all of the above ramblings and reflections leave us today? I can only surmise that America is in reality a false nation with false prophets…. am I wrong?

Enjoy the following traditional Thanksgiving treat…

If you get the urge to sing along….. here are the lyrics….

This song is called Alice’s Restaurant, and it’s about Alice, and the
restaurant, but Alice’s Restaurant is not the name of the restaurant,
that’s just the name of the song, and that’s why I called the song Alice’s
You can get anything you want at Alice’s Restaurant
You can get anything you want at Alice’s Restaurant
Walk right in it’s around the back
Just a half a mile from the railroad track
You can get anything you want at Alice’s Restaurant

Now it all started two Thanksgivings ago, was on – two years ago on
Thanksgiving, when my friend and I went up to visit Alice at the
restaurant, but Alice doesn’t live in the restaurant, she lives in the
church nearby the restaurant, in the bell-tower, with her husband Ray and
Fasha the dog. And livin’ in the bell tower like that, they got a lot of
room downstairs where the pews used to be in. Havin’ all that room,
seein’ as how they took out all the pews, they decided that they didn’t
have to take out their garbage for a long time.

We got up there, we found all the garbage in there, and we decided it’d be
a friendly gesture for us to take the garbage down to the city dump. So
we took the half a ton of garbage, put it in the back of a red VW
microbus, took shovels and rakes and implements of destruction and headed
on toward the city dump.

Well we got there and there was a big sign and a chain across across the
dump saying, “Closed on Thanksgiving.” And we had never heard of a dump
closed on Thanksgiving before, and with tears in our eyes we drove off
into the sunset looking for another place to put the garbage.

We didn’t find one. Until we came to a side road, and off the side of the
side road there was another fifteen foot cliff and at the bottom of the
cliff there was another pile of garbage. And we decided that one big pile
is better than two little piles, and rather than bring that one up we
decided to throw our’s down.

That’s what we did, and drove back to the church, had a thanksgiving
dinner that couldn’t be beat, went to sleep and didn’t get up until the
next morning, when we got a phone call from officer Obie. He said, “Kid,
we found your name on an envelope at the bottom of a half a ton of
garbage, and just wanted to know if you had any information about it.” And
I said, “Yes, sir, Officer Obie, I cannot tell a lie, I put that envelope
under that garbage.”

After speaking to Obie for about fourty-five minutes on the telephone we
finally arrived at the truth of the matter and said that we had to go down
and pick up the garbage, and also had to go down and speak to him at the
police officer’s station. So we got in the red VW microbus with the
shovels and rakes and implements of destruction and headed on toward the
police officer’s station.

Now friends, there was only one or two things that Obie coulda done at
the police station, and the first was he could have given us a medal for
being so brave and honest on the telephone, which wasn’t very likely, and
we didn’t expect it, and the other thing was he could have bawled us out
and told us never to be see driving garbage around the vicinity again,
which is what we expected, but when we got to the police officer’s station
there was a third possibility that we hadn’t even counted upon, and we was
both immediately arrested. Handcuffed. And I said “Obie, I don’t think I
can pick up the garbage with these handcuffs on.” He said, “Shut up, kid.
Get in the back of the patrol car.”

And that’s what we did, sat in the back of the patrol car and drove to the
quote Scene of the Crime unquote. I want tell you about the town of
Stockbridge, Massachusets, where this happened here, they got three stop
signs, two police officers, and one police car, but when we got to the
Scene of the Crime there was five police officers and three police cars,
being the biggest crime of the last fifty years, and everybody wanted to
get in the newspaper story about it. And they was using up all kinds of
cop equipment that they had hanging around the police officer’s station.
They was taking plaster tire tracks, foot prints, dog smelling prints, and
they took twenty seven eight-by-ten colour glossy photographs with circles
and arrows and a paragraph on the back of each one explaining what each
one was to be used as evidence against us. Took pictures of the approach,
the getaway, the northwest corner the southwest corner and that’s not to
mention the aerial photography.

After the ordeal, we went back to the jail. Obie said he was going to put
us in the cell. Said, “Kid, I’m going to put you in the cell, I want your
wallet and your belt.” And I said, “Obie, I can understand you wanting my
wallet so I don’t have any money to spend in the cell, but what do you
want my belt for?” And he said, “Kid, we don’t want any hangings.”
I said, “Obie, did you think I was going to hang myself for littering?”
Obie said he was making sure, and friends Obie was, cause he took out the
toilet seat so I couldn’t hit myself over the head and drown, and he took
out the toilet paper so I couldn’t bend the bars roll out the – roll the
toilet paper out the window, slide down the roll and have an escape. Obie
was making sure, and it was about four or five hours later that Alice
(remember Alice? It’s a song about Alice), Alice came by and with a few
nasty words to Obie on the side, bailed us out of jail, and we went back
to the church, had a another thanksgiving dinner that couldn’t be beat,
and didn’t get up until the next morning, when we all had to go to court.

We walked in, sat down, Obie came in with the twenty seven eight-by-ten
colour glossy pictures with circles and arrows and a paragraph on the back
of each one, sat down. Man came in said, “All rise.” We all stood up,
and Obie stood up with the twenty seven eight-by-ten colour glossy
pictures, and the judge walked in sat down with a seeing eye dog, and he
sat down, we sat down. Obie looked at the seeing eye dog, and then at the
twenty seven eight-by-ten colour glossy pictures with circles and arrows
and a paragraph on the back of each one, and looked at the seeing eye dog.
And then at twenty seven eight-by-ten colour glossy pictures with circles
and arrows and a paragraph on the back of each one and began to cry,
’cause Obie came to the realization that it was a typical case of American
blind justice, and there wasn’t nothing he could do about it, and the
judge wasn’t going to look at the twenty seven eight-by-ten colour glossy
pictures with the circles and arrows and a paragraph on the back of each
one explaining what each one was to be used as evidence against us. And
we was fined $50 and had to pick up the garbage in the snow, but thats not
what I came to tell you about.

Came to talk about the draft.

They got a building down New York City, it’s called Whitehall Street,
where you walk in, you get injected, inspected, detected, infected,
neglected and selected. I went down to get my physical examination one
day, and I walked in, I sat down, got good and drunk the night before, so
I looked and felt my best when I went in that morning. `Cause I wanted to
look like the all-American kid from New York City, man I wanted, I wanted
to feel like the all-, I wanted to be the all American kid from New York,
and I walked in, sat down, I was hung down, brung down, hung up, and all
kinds o’ mean nasty ugly things. And I waked in and sat down and they gave
me a piece of paper, said, “Kid, see the phsychiatrist, room 604.”

And I went up there, I said, “Shrink, I want to kill. I mean, I wanna, I
wanna kill. Kill. I wanna, I wanna see, I wanna see blood and gore and
guts and veins in my teeth. Eat dead burnt bodies. I mean kill, Kill,
KILL, KILL.” And I started jumpin up and down yelling, “KILL, KILL,” and
he started jumpin up and down with me and we was both jumping up and down
yelling, “KILL, KILL.” And the sargent came over, pinned a medal on me,
sent me down the hall, said, “You’re our boy.”

Didn’t feel too good about it.

Proceeded on down the hall gettin more injections, inspections,
detections, neglections and all kinds of stuff that they was doin’ to me
at the thing there, and I was there for two hours, three hours, four
hours, I was there for a long time going through all kinds of mean nasty
ugly things and I was just having a tough time there, and they was
inspecting, injecting every single part of me, and they was leaving no
part untouched. Proceeded through, and when I finally came to the see the
last man, I walked in, walked in sat down after a whole big thing there,
and I walked up and said, “What do you want?” He said, “Kid, we only got
one question. Have you ever been arrested?”

And I proceeded to tell him the story of the Alice’s Restaurant Massacre,
with full orchestration and five part harmony and stuff like that and all
the phenome… – and he stopped me right there and said, “Kid, did you ever
go to court?”

And I proceeded to tell him the story of the twenty seven eight-by-ten
colour glossy pictures with the circles and arrows and the paragraph on
the back of each one, and he stopped me right there and said, “Kid, I want
you to go and sit down on that bench that says Group W …. NOW kid!!”

And I, I walked over to the, to the bench there, and there is, Group W’s
where they put you if you may not be moral enough to join the army after
committing your special crime, and there was all kinds of mean nasty ugly
looking people on the bench there. Mother rapers. Father stabbers. Father
rapers! Father rapers sitting right there on the bench next to me! And
they was mean and nasty and ugly and horrible crime-type guys sitting on the
bench next to me. And the meanest, ugliest, nastiest one, the meanest
father raper of them all, was coming over to me and he was mean ‘n’ ugly
‘n’ nasty ‘n’ horrible and all kind of things and he sat down next to me
and said, “Kid, whad’ya get?” I said, “I didn’t get nothing, I had to pay
$50 and pick up the garbage.” He said, “What were you arrested for, kid?”
And I said, “Littering.” And they all moved away from me on the bench
there, and the hairy eyeball and all kinds of mean nasty things, till I
said, “And creating a nuisance.” And they all came back, shook my hand,
and we had a great time on the bench, talkin about crime, mother stabbing,
father raping, all kinds of groovy things that we was talking about on the
bench. And everything was fine, we was smoking cigarettes and all kinds of
things, until the Sargeant came over, had some paper in his hand, held it
up and said.

“Kids, this-piece-of-paper’s-got-47-words-37-sentences-58-words-we-wanna-
officer’s-name-and-any-other-kind-of-thing-you-gotta-say”, and talked for
forty-five minutes and nobody understood a word that he said, but we had
fun filling out the forms and playing with the pencils on the bench there,
and I filled out the massacre with the four part harmony, and wrote it
down there, just like it was, and everything was fine and I put down the
pencil, and I turned over the piece of paper, and there, there on the
other side, in the middle of the other side, away from everything else on
the other side, in parentheses, capital letters, quotated, read the
following words:


I went over to the sargent, said, “Sargeant, you got a lot a damn gall to
ask me if I’ve rehabilitated myself, I mean, I mean, I mean that just, I’m
sittin’ here on the bench, I mean I’m sittin here on the Group W bench
’cause you want to know if I’m moral enough join the army, burn women,
kids, houses and villages after bein’ a litterbug.” He looked at me and
said, “Kid, we don’t like your kind, and we’re gonna send you fingerprints
off to Washington.”

And friends, somewhere in Washington enshrined in some little folder, is a
study in black and white of my fingerprints. And the only reason I’m
singing you this song now is cause you may know somebody in a similar
situation, or you may be in a similar situation, and if your in a
situation like that there’s only one thing you can do and that’s walk into
the shrink wherever you are ,just walk in say “Shrink, You can get
anything you want, at Alice’s restaurant.”. And walk out. You know, if
one person, just one person does it they may think he’s really sick and
they won’t take him. And if two people, two people do it, in harmony,
they may think they’re both faggots and they won’t take either of them.
And three people do it, three, can you imagine, three people walking in
singin a bar of Alice’s Restaurant and walking out. They may think it’s an
organization. And can you, can you imagine fifty people a day,I said
fifty people a day walking in singin a bar of Alice’s Restaurant and
walking out. And friends they may thinks it’s a movement.

And that’s what it is, the Alice’s Restaurant Anti-Massacre Movement, and
all you got to do to join is sing it the next time it come’s around on the guitar.

With feeling. So we’ll wait for it to come around on the guitar, here and
sing it when it does. Here it comes.

You can get anything you want, at Alice’s Restaurant
You can get anything you want, at Alice’s Restaurant
Walk right in it’s around the back
Just a half a mile from the railroad track
You can get anything you want, at Alice’s Restaurant

That was horrible. If you want to end war and stuff you got to sing loud.
I’ve been singing this song now for twenty five minutes. I could sing it
for another twenty five minutes. I’m not proud… or tired.

So we’ll wait till it comes around again, and this time with four part
harmony and feeling.

We’re just waitin’ for it to come around is what we’re doing.

All right now.

You can get anything you want, at Alice’s Restaurant
Excepting Alice
You can get anything you want, at Alice’s Restaurant
Walk right in it’s around the back
Just a half a mile from the railroad track
You can get anything you want, at Alice’s Restaurant

Da da da da da da da dum
At Alice’s Restaurant


November 7th,1967; the 50th anniversary of the Soviet Revolution

The October Revolution in November….. that always confused the people. In celebration we went off to a neighbourhood pub in Toronto called the Brunswick House. It was always a fun place filled with fun loving people. In honour of the day, the favourite drink of the evening was Labatt’s 50. I was positive till this very day that it was specially produced to celebrate the Revolution…. it wasn’t 😦

At the end of the evening and after my fill of  brewskies, I stood up and announced to the crowd that I was going home to make a baby! Nine months later our little bouncing Bolshevik was born.
Today, he too is a Blogger known to many of my readers. His Blog can be found HERE.

The world at that time was divided into two major forces, NATO and the Warsaw Pact. The Cold War was going ahead full speed. It was hoped that these conflicts would have ended years earlier with the resolving of the Cuban Missile Crisis…. they didn’t and conflicts continued. It was during that very period that my eyes were opened to a certain reality, the Cold War and everything connected with it was a farce. This happened one evening, of all places, at a ballet performance in Madison Square Garden. I was the guest of a good friend who happened to be the foreign correspondent for the Soviet News Agency , TASS. We were seated in a special ‘box’ reserved for foreign diplomats. I was seated next to Anastas Mikoyan who was in New York at the time to represent his country at the United Nations emergency session dealing with the crisis. Earlier in the day scenes of the session were aired on TV showing the Soviet representatives  ‘going at it’ with Adlai Stevenson who was the US Representative to the UN.

Back to the ballet….. A few minutes after we were seated, everyone rose to welcome a special, invited guest….. Adlai Stevenson! I was shocked…. almost hurled my dinner when Mikoyan embraced him in the usual Soviet fashion of a bear hug and kiss. They seemed to be the best of friends…. yet publicly at the UN they appeared to be after each others very life. It was then and there that I realised that ‘international politics’ was nothing but a stage play, not much different than what was about to start on the stage below us. International politics was nothing but a chess game and we the people were/are the pawns of that game.

Getting back to my son’s birth …. about a week earlier another crisis developed between the Super Powers…. Czechoslovakia was invaded by troops of the Warsaw Pact, led by the Red Army itself. This was the beginning of a long, drawn out end to international love and support of the Soviet Union. Discussions and splits took place in all Communist circles throughout the world. My personal involvement in the Party was not effected as I was there to improve the conditions of the Working Class of Canada having little or nothing to do with the international doings of foreign governments. There was too much left to be done in Canada itself.

In 1979 a nation unheard of by many, Afghanistan, was making headline news throughout the world. The Soviet Union had invaded them that year. To many, this action was not different than CIA interference in Ghana, The Congo and Chile years earlier (just to name a few). This action was the beginning of the end of the Soviet Union. Support for them diminished greatly both inside and out of the country itself.

What was conceived in liberty, what was the hope of much of the International Working Class literally died in 1991. Needless to say, this was celebrated throughout the capitalist world as can be seen in this New York Times article; END OF THE SOVIET UNION; The Soviet State, Born of a Dream, Dies
Still, years later the world remains in tumult; wars and invasions raging in many of the countries mentioned above. Today the culprit is the United States, not the Soviet Union. People are dying, people are denied their basic human rights including Statehood. In reality, this was ‘check mate’ for humanity.


Bella Ciao Libertad!


Translation of Bella Ciao

Una mattina mi son svegliato………..One morning I woke up
O bella ciao, bella ciao, bella ciao….Hello fair lady, hello, hello
Una mattina mi son svegliato………..One morning I woke up
Ed ho trovato l’invasor………………….And I’ve found the invader 

O partigiano portami via……………….Oh partisan take me away
O bella ciao, bella ciao, bella ciao….Hello fair lady, hello, hello
O partigiano portami via……………….Oh partisan take me away
Che mi sento di morir…………………..As I feel I’m dying

E se io muoio da partigiano…………..And if I die as partisan
O bella ciao, bella ciao, bella ciao….Hello fair lady, hello, hello
E se io muoio da partigiano…………..And if I die as partisan
Tu mi devi seppellir……………………..You have to bury me

Mi seppellirai lassu’ in montagna…..You will bury me up there on the mountains
O bella ciao, bella ciao, bella ciao….Hello fair lady, hello, hello
Mi seppellirai lassu’ in montagna…..You will bury me up there over the mountains
Sotto l’ombra di un bel fior……………Under the shadow of a nice flower

E le genti che passeranno………………And the people who will pass by
O bella ciao, bella ciao, bella ciao….Hello fair lady, hello, hello
E le genti che passeranno………………And the people who will pass by
Mi diranno “che bel fior”………………They will say “what a fine flower”

Questo è il fiore del partigiano………This is the flower of the partisan
O bella ciao, bella ciao, bella ciao….Hello fair lady, hello, hello
Questo è il fiore del partigiano………This is the flower of the partisan
Morto per la liberta’……………………..Dead for the freedom.




Let me start off by apologising for the crudeness of the heading and some of the language used in the text itself, but there is not a civil or genteel way to deal with the topic at hand, that being racism.

I was awakened at 4:02 AM by the call to prayer from the mosque down the hill from my home today. It reminded me of a telephone call I received at 2 A.M. on this very day twenty years ago. The call was short and sweet, from a dear friend in London…. it went as follows; “You will have a grave to piss on tomorrow”. You will understand the significance of that call when you read further into this post…..

The McCarthy era was techniclly over but it seemed to have given some a justification to carry on with fascist and racist activities. One in particular justified his actions by claiming he was acting in the name of the Jewish people. One that was called meir kahane, the vilest most dangerous individual that graced our planet since hitler himself.

In the late 1950s to early 1960s Kahane led a life of secrecy. His strong anti-Communist views landed him a position as a consultant with the Federal Bureau of Investigation (FBI). His assignment was to infiltrate the right-wing John Birch Society and report his findings back to the FBI. For this position Kahane took on the false name Michael King and spent nearly two and a half years posing as a Christian, learning all he could about the John Birch Society. (From) ….. So you can see he received his ‘training’ from the best….

Soon afterwards he founded the Jewish Defense League. The group was started to serve as an ‘escort service’ for Jews having to walk through predominantly Black neighbourhoods in Brooklyn on their way to their synagagues on Friday nights. In reality it was a group of stormtroopng thugs that terrorised those neighbourhoods with weekly pogroms.

I had my first personal encounter with kahane in 1960 when I was taking part in a Civil Rights demonstration at the construction site of the Brooklyn Downstate Medical Centre. My involvement led to me being arrested. As I was being dragged off to the ‘paddy wagon’ kahane himself was standing there cheering the police on. This resulted in a personal vendetta against the bastard, one that lasted till the day he was murdered.

From that day on I did everything in my power to disrupt and try to stop any activity sponsored by him. I was part of  a group that removed posters put up by his goons, disrupted his meetings and did everything in our power to keep his message silent. In many cases we were successful. His message was not limited to being anti Black, it soon expanded, in true McCarthyite fashion to anti communism and anti Sovietism.

He carried his hatred with him when he immigrated to Israel where he founded the (soon to be outlawed) Kach Party. He was successful in winning a seat in the Knesset in 1984. By then, I was also in Israel, continuing my protests against him and his group.

The last time I saw him was at a street rally held in Jerusalem. We had enough people with us which made it impossible for him to speak. When it was over he approached me, pointed his index finger at me and said “after I get rid of the Arabs I’m coming after you”. My response was “you won’t be getting rid of anyone, and I’ll piss on your grave before you get me”! (Hence the phonecall from London mentioned earlier).

This morning at 4:02 the cries of ‘Allah hu Akbar, Allah hu Akbar’ (God is great) were music to my ears…. music that he wasn’t around to enjoy. Unfortunately his ideas live on, but they too will soon be relegated to the same waste bin of history where he rots away.

So join me today, and everyday, print out the image presented above, tape it to your toilet tank and


Mike Gold wrote a book in 1930 which he called ‘Jews Without Money’. It’s a book that still remains a must read for anyone who wishes to get a better understanding of the economic crisis we are in today…

My father was one of those Jews, a man that worked long hours in a sweatshop for years to provide for his family. He referred to himself as a ‘piece worker’ as his wage depended on how many garments he finished in a given week. The dress industry at the time was broken down as follows, there was the pattern maker, followed by the cutter, followed by the operator, and finally the presser. At the end of the process, each worker was given a slip of paper which he turned in at the end of the week…. hence the title of piece worker.

It was a long and boring existence for these workers, although they were unionised for the most part, the wages were almost non existent compared to others. Yet, we survived, and none of us ever went to bed hungry.

But then came the war …. things changed. A large section of these workers were sent abroad to ‘make the world safe for democracy’….. little did they know… For many, the horrors they witnessed abroad changed their lives completely. Earlier, some went off voluntarily to fight the beginnings of what became fascism in Europe, these were the ones that went off to Spain to join the International Brigades. These were the ones  that were called the ‘premature anti -fascists’.

When it was all over, many of these piece workers became active peace workers. They saw the horrors of war with their own eyes … they heard the cry of ‘Never Again’ with their own ears.

For the most part, that generation is long gone. The unfortunate thing is so are the lessons they learnt. Their offspring didn’t seem interested in carrying the banners left by them. They remain tucked away in dark corners of the attic, but the horrors continue to this very day…. why the complicity? Why the ‘I don’t care’ attitude?

It is often heard from parents that “we are doing this for the children” …. is it not time to ‘do something for the parents’ as well? Is it not time to help bring about the ‘CHANGE’ that so many of our parents dreamt of? Hatred thrives in America today. Do we not owe it to ourselves and  to our parents to change that situation?

Last week was the 44th anniversary of the death of my dear father. In 1984 I wrote the following in honour of his 80th birthday…. again I want to take this opportunity to show my gratitude to him for making me the man I am today.

For My Father

10 March, 1984

Had he lived

Dad would have been eighty this April,

But the dust and fibers of the dress shop

Choked the life out of him

When he was only sixty two.

He had so much to live for,

Grandchildren to play with,

A sea full of fish

Just waiting to be caught,

But instead he himself was caught.

Somehow, I cannot picture him as an old man,

He has such a youthful outlook on life

And enjoyed it as much as possible.

The boring hours in the shop

Made life that much more meaningful to him.

Known to all who knew him

Simply as Uncle Benny,

He was loved by all who knew him.

A simple man by nature,

He asked for very little out of life.

Uncle Benny was a proud man,

Never pretending to be something he wasn’t.

He was a simple worker

Yet he held his head high

And never let the system get him down.

But the system finally got him

So sick that he could work no more.

He was not a strong man

So he didn’t suffer long,

He died as he lived, quietly and with dignity.

There is an empty space in all of us

Who knew and loved him,

An empty space at the dinner table that

He so proudly used to grace with

His feasts of fish or whatever.

An empty space because

As quiet as he was,

He made his mark on you

And you had to like him,

He was just that kind of a guy.

So, Uncle Benny

Be assured that you are not forgotten.

We all miss you and

Will celebrate your eightieth birthday.

Rest in peace in a world of peace.


I have written extensively in the past about Noam Chomsky and the reasons I an not an admirer of his. My main criticisms of the man can be found in THIS post. He continues to ‘add insult to injury’ every time he opens his mouth lately….

He sees himself as a supporter of the Palestinian cause, as an activist. Nothing is further from the truth. At one time he might have been the glorious ‘Knight’ he thinks he is, but his armor has been tarnished beyond recognition. The time is long overdo for him to take it off and stop playing at this game of his.

Noam Chomsky Opposes Palestinian-Led Movement To Boycott Israel

In an interview on the Council for the National Interest internet radio program “Jerusalem Calling,” MIT Professor Noam Chomsky, author of The Fateful Triangle and other books on Israel-Palestine, said that he opposes boycotting Israel.

In a July 8th interview with new CNI President Alison Weir, Dr. Chomsky at first denied that he opposed the boycott, divestment, and sanctions movement, calling this an “internet rumor.”

However, when Weir said she had heard him say that he opposed boycott during a lecture at the University of California Berkeley several years ago, Chomsky admitted that he had opposed boycotting Israel then and said that he still did so now. He said that he felt that activists should instead only divest from American companies.

Chomsky claimed that the boycott movement “hurts Palestinians,” because he felt it was “hypocritical to boycott Israel and not the US, which funds Israeli actions.” Weir pointed out that many authors – among them Donald Neff, George Ball, Stephen Green, Kathleen Christison, Edward Tivnan, Walt and Mearsheimer, and, most recently, Grant Smith – have provided massive evidence that the primary reason the U.S. supports Israel is the Israel Lobby (the most powerful lobby for a foreign country in the US).

Chomsky, who has consistently denied the power of the Israel Lobby, said that AIPAC (the American Israel Public Affairs Committee) would use the charge that the Palestinian support movement is allegedly “hypocritical” to undermine its effectiveness, and that therefore this boycott would be harmful to Palestinians. While this statement appeared to indicate that Chomsky now acknowledges the power and significance of the Israel lobby, later in the interview he continued to deny the importance of this lobby.

In response to Chomsky’s assertion that the boycott movement allegedly hurts Palestinians, Weir pointed out that Palestinian civil society overwhelmingly calls for such a boycott. She said that over a hundred different Palestinian groups – including farmers’ groups, women’s groups, and others – have asked for an international boycott of Israel.

A caller to the show, long-time Middle East analyst Jeffrey Blankfort , commented that he felt it was highly inappropriate and condescending for Chomsky, a Jewish-American who had lived on a Kibbutz and says that he supports Israel, to tell Palestinians what’s good for them. Blankfort has long criticized Chomsky’s perspective on the lobby.

During the interview, Chomsky said that he has long favored a binational state. He said that he felt that the call for a “single, secular, democratic state” did not make much sense, suggesting that calls for one state were “rhetorical” and did not “rise to the state of advocacy” because proponents had not sketched out a path of how to get there. He did not comment on the books on this subject by Ali Abunimah and Virginia Tilley , which contain in-depth discussions on this approach.

Because technical problems caused occasional problems during the program, Weir, who is also executive director of If Americans Knew, has invited Chomsky to come on the show again so that he may explain his position further. Chomsky accepted the invitation and will appear again in a few months when his schedule permits.

The interview, in which Chomsky also discusses other aspects of the Israel-Palestinian conflict, can be heard in full on the CNI: Jerusalem Calling section of the WS Radio website. Outgoing CNI President Eugene Bird says that CNI will post a transcript on the CNI website within a few days.

Written FOR


The time has come in my life where I just won’t waste it listening to certain opinions or be with the people that have them… call me close minded if you wish, but you would be way off base.

Case in point

I live in a fairly mixed and progressive community in Jerusalem.  Mixed as there are both religious and secular Jews living here as well as hundreds of Palestinians. We have maintained our own level of Peace throughout what have been very turbulent years in the city.

English is the official ‘second language’ in this area which is a big attraction to new immigrants from the States. One such person moved in not too long ago…. one very strange person. He is the type that gets an idea in his head and proceeds to spout it out for the remainder of the week, literally ‘testing the waters’ to see if anyone was in agreement with him. People were tolerant towards him probably out of pity as he was here only with his wife and completely estranged from his children that remained in the States.

I was one that offered my ear to his ramblings, hardly ever agreeing with them….. BUT last week he crossed the line. He started spouting off about the violence displayed in baseball and how terrible that was….. but ended his rant with “Israel should learn something from that game, we should have bombed all of the ships in the Flotilla and killed them all”! I was beyond words, shocked would be too mild a word to express my feelings at the moment. I simply responded that “this is the end of this conversation” and walked away from him.

Last night he approached me again …. but I cut him off before he started talking by telling him that “whatever friendship we might have had ended last week when you expressed the most outrageous opinion I ever heard”. He was not expecting that from me, but should have as he is aware of my views regarding the situation in general in this country. He silently walked away from me, probably with the hope that I won’t be telling others about his madness.

Simply put, it’s bad enough having to witness the crimes against the Palestinians in this country, crimes that I can (and do) speak out against constantly…. but there is no reason in the world why I should have to listen to certain opinions regarding those crimes. Life is way too short to waste it on one ignorant person, there are others with open minds that one day might work together with us to make a real difference.

Hopefully this person will have learned something about ‘resting his gums’ so to speak. Either that or realise that his views are totally unacceptable in certain areas and leave, in which case not a tear would be shed by anyone in the community.

Newer entries »