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Monthly Archive for April, 2006

Holocaust in April

Last week, a friend and I were in the Old City and were in the Armenian Quarter, when we saw a sign. Pasted at the entrance to St. James street was a sign describing the Massacre of the Armenians that began in 1915. Over the next eight years more than 1.5 million Armenians died at the hands of the Turks.

They commemorated the Armenian Genocide on April 24, the day before we commemorated the Jewish Holocaust.

The world turned its back on the Armenians in 1915, and it has been said that this encouraged the Germans to believe that the world would also turn its back on the Jewish people.

Last week, a friend and I were in the Old City and were in the Armenian Quarter, when we saw a sign. Pasted at the entrance to St. James street was a sign describing the Massacre of the Armenians that began in 1915. Over the next eight years more than 1.5 million Armenians died at the hands of the Turks.

They commemorated the Armenian Genocide on April 24, the day before we commemorated the Jewish Holocaust.

The world turned its back on the Armenians in 1915, and it has been said that this encouraged the Germans to believe that the world would also turn its back on the Jewish people.

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A Bomber Welcomes Me Home

On Monday, April 17th, at 1:35 p.m., a Palestinian bomber left me a welcome home message. Four hours later, my plane made its final approach, it’s flight path lying directly over the bloody carnage in Tel Aviv. Nine dead and twenty wounded are hard to see from a Boeing 777, so I can be forgiven for not understanding what I saw.

What cannot be forgiven are the words of one reporter. After having traveled to the home of the bomber, he justified this latest atrocity by explaining that the Palestinians are suffering, and laid that suffering at the feet of Israel.

On Monday, April 17th, at 1:35 p.m., a Palestinian bomber left me a welcome home message. Four hours later, my plane made its final approach, it’s flight path lying directly over the bloody carnage in Tel Aviv. Nine dead and twenty wounded are hard to see from a Boeing 777, so I can be forgiven for not understanding what I saw.

What cannot be forgiven are the words of one reporter. After having traveled to the home of the bomber, he justified this latest atrocity by explaining that the Palestinians are suffering, and laid that suffering at the feet of Israel.

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Especially, ‘cuz something IS!

Things are still a bit topsy-turvy at my end of things, so I think that I’m going to defer my ‘Way of Death in Israel’ for another day. I suspect that the subject needs me to actually BE in Israel before I can write properly on the topic. Maybe next week?

The OTHER problem that I have is news. I’m not sure what to talk about at the moment ‘cuz I feel out of touch with what is going on. In fact, I usually feel disconnected from world events whenever I am outside Israel.

Things are still a bit topsy-turvy at my end of things, so I think that I’m going to defer my ‘Way of Death in Israel’ for another day. I suspect that the subject needs me to actually BE in Israel before I can write properly on the topic. Maybe next week?

The OTHER problem that I have is news. I’m not sure what to talk about at the moment ‘cuz I feel out of touch with what is going on. In fact, I usually feel disconnected from world events whenever I am outside Israel.

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The Way of Death in America

In America, death is difficult. In fact, so difficult that dying is probably the easy part. Let me explain.

In the American way of death, we go through five vital and important steps:

FIRST – Verification: They gotta actually make sure that you ARE dead. I suspect that they poke you with sharp objects and tell dirty jokes to see if they get a response. For me, all that they’d need is feathers. I’m ticklish.

In America, death is difficult. In fact, so difficult that dying is probably the easy part. Let me explain.

In the American way of death, we go through five vital and important steps:

FIRST – Verification: They gotta actually make sure that you ARE dead. I suspect that they poke you with sharp objects and tell dirty jokes to see if they get a response. For me, all that they’d need is feathers. I’m ticklish.

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