My Blog

Blinded by hate
crusader can’t tell
the gates of heaven
from those of hell.

It’s never blind hate,
It’s clear heart and mind
that shows us the way
and lets us see God.

Dear Madam,

Thank you for your recent order from our sex toys shop. You asked for the large red vibrator as featured on our wall display. Please select another item because that is our fire extinguisher.

Sincerely yours

People have accused me of many things since they learnt that I refuse to unquestionably support the Palestinians. I have lost some of my blog so-called friends, and got a few nasty personal messages. It seems that most people seem not to be able to tell the difference between not agreeing with their opinion and being evil.

So for all those who already hate me regardless of what I have to say. Stop reading here. It will not change your minds. (I also have nothing to say for those who poison ponds to protest against hunters.)

For the others who may be a bit more curious, here are the five principles that guide me when dealing with complex human situations:

1. You can divide history to two periods, the history of the living or of the history of the dead. The vast majority does not care whether the history of the dead happened 3 generations or a thousand years ago. Why should they care? So my first principle is to treat all history of the dead equally. Either I think it’s relevant, or I ignore it.
2. You can’t change history, but you can easily manipulate it. So my second principle is to always assume that what I am led to believe is manipulated.
3. Most people become emotional first, and nothing can change their minds later. So my third principle is to always find the facts for myself before I get emotional about things I don’t know
4. In no conflict – personal business or political – defining someone as being bad while putting the other as good has ever made anything better. My fourth principle is to always try to see things from all viewpoints.
5. Doubt is the only way to keep ones mind open. I am more often wrong than right, Yet, I am more often right than many of those around me. So my fifth principle is to keep doubting everything.

I lost many so called friends following these principles. I still let them guide me.

Being an underdog does not make you good, it does not make you right. It simply makes you an underdog.

Tomorrow, Inshalla, we should be grateful that it came at all, because it’s not us who make it be. But we forget.

Tomorrow, Inshalla, we’ll play again on a stage we did not make. But we forget.

They called it Karma, fate, Inshalla. We took their words and left their minds behind so we can forget.

Privileged enough to forget, haughty amoebas in a drop of water are taking over the world. Tomorrow they’ll play again. Inshalla

As part of a blog discussion about Israel, I was asked/accused if in my world Isreal's invasion of Gaza was totally justifiable. This question was posted by someone who is not familiar with my blog, but maybe it’s time to explicitly describe my world

In my world hunters are not bad, anti-hunting campaigners are not good and Anti-hunting campaigner that poison ponds to stop hunting are plainly stupid. The same stands for the release of Ferrets into the wild as part of an anti-fur campaign.

In my world I understand the hurt of my daughter, who would never hurt anyone, when she and her friend approached an old lady to help her carry a shopping bag to the bus stop and the old lady started running away in terror. But in my world, I also understand the old lady who is terrified of the young generation and doesn’t want to stop to find out if the youngsters approaching her do it to help her or attack her. I can see why the feelings of my daughter are not of a concern to old lady, but I also see why my daughter may not try to help old ladies again.

In my world people should have the right to have kids, unless they lose this right and then they shouldn’t. The same is true for every other right. In my world rights is something you earn, and not God given.

In my world kids should go to school and be given any chance to better their lives. But kids who carry weapons and kill are murderers not kids.

In my world, Ambulances are sacred, and this is the reason that under the Geneva Convention they are out of touch for both fighting sides in a war. But in my world using ambulanced to smuggle weapons puts ALL ambulances at risk, as in my world I can see why the other side would not start checking which ambulances are good ones and which are bad.

As unfashionable as it might be, in my world there are no black empires and white rebels, as rebels can be very black as well. So while my world is a pretty complex one, it’s a damn interesting place to live in. What is your world like?

For the married men among you – how would you respond if an attractive woman has tried to seduce you?

And for the women – is a married man a legitimate target?

Having just written about change reminded me that it’s been exactly three months since Mr. Brown saved UK’s and the world’s economies . Both, if you haven’t noticed, are still sliding.

It’s also been just over 2000 years since the birth of man who saved the world. It still seems that the world could have done with some healthy cynicism and lots of good thinking instead of his saving.

The hand gesture I had not seen for years shuttered the latch and flooded me with words I did not hear, foods I did not taste, places I could not remember, and ghosts of those long gone. When will the flood drain? What will shut the gate?

It’s a great day for the little tea shop owners that provide the only shelter from the water pouring from the low grey sky to form big impassable paddles, which only the green carriages pulled by the horses and the zooming motorcycles driven by barely teenagers dare crossing. The brown murky water that splashes about yields angry incomprehensible words and fist waving from the occasional passerby. It’s a bad day for those whose livelihood depends on visitors: the snake charmers with their black cobras and vipers that are now trying to crawl back to their baskets; the acrobats performing aerial somersaults in waitress-like white uniforms, the story tellers, teeth poolers and fortune tellers. None of them will make ends meet today, and yet, the air is filled with smiles, drumming music and excited chats. When did they last see such rain?

It’s only the visitors, many of whom came to escape from the cold grayness of their own countries, who complain to each other. When finishing their mint tea served in minute glasses, they get up and find a seat in the next tea shop to have a different view of the rain, or maybe hoping for something to happen; anything that will break the routine of the day, will make their day abroad worthwhile, and give them something to write home about.