Tisha B' Av 5769 - Poem

What I'll do when I'm dead.

I won't have to change, although change is inevitable.
I won't have to move for anything or anyone.
So in a way I'll have total power.
I'll just rot.

I'll avoid all the pain and sorrow of my life by not busting my ass to try to get what I want, to avoid what I don't.
No heartless, thoughtless people will be able to get in the way of my dreams.
I won't have any dreams.
I won't get disappointed in love.
I won't have ambitions.
I won't care.
I won't try to make the world a better place.
I won't cry inside when my cat dies even when it is her time to go.

I won't feel the tears well inside and have to pretend that it's okay when the indifference of others destroys a lifetime dream in an instant.
Or so it seems.
I won't make irrational, unreasonable demands anymore on anyone.
I won't have any demands at all.
It won't bother me the least,
when the senseless hatred and fighting of brothers and sisters and fathers and mothers brings down my Holy Temple.

The walls of Jerusalem, G-d's city will be breached and I won't care.
The Holy Temple will be razed and I won't care.
Who knows what will happen to the Ark of the Covenant?
Who knows what will happen to the cherubim? Who knows where the Holy Tablets will be taken?
Can they be broken?
Who knows?
Who cares?
The barbarians will slaughter unclean animals on the Holy Altar—
and men and women and children.
The barbarians will party in their blood
and torn limbs
in my Holy Temple
and I won't care.

The Babylonian soldiers were just doing their jobs.
The Roman soldiers were just following orders,
when they led away the Jewish slaves. Emperor Titus was just doing his job.
It won't bother me anymore when I'm completely utterly gone, dead, no consciousness, no care, no love.

I'll be able at last to be passive to others, feel nothing towards their sorrow.
And I will no longer kvetch.
I won't bother you anymore.
I won't complain.
The rest of the world will go by.
I'll be carefree at last.
I won't have to depend on good luck,
on the kindness of others,
on high tolerance for pain.

I'll be completely dependable.
You probably won't have any surprises from me.
Maybe it will be easier not to get pissed off at me either when I'm dead.
The godly soul completely gone,
squeezed out of an utterly thin and empty shell.

President Obama — Support Freedom in Iran!

An excerpt from "Silence Is Not Neutrality: Obama Needs to Support Freedom in Iran" by Michael Rubin, National Review Online, June 23, 2009: .

..If Obama were to get on Radio Farda or Voice of America Persian service and speak directly to the Iranian people, if he were to admit he was wrong to have implied that the supreme leader was their legitimate spokesman, that might have tremendous effect. Ilya Zaslavsky, a democratic-bloc leader in the Soviet Congress of People's Deputies, credited Ronald Reagan rather than Soviet leader Mikhail Gorbachev with originating the perestroika reforms....Obama promised to transform America's image in the world. Excising freedom and liberty from our brand is not the way to do it. Remaining silent is not neutral; it is casting a vote for the status quo, including the primacy of the supreme leader and the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps. It is time for Obama and Congress to speak loud and clear in defense of freedom.

Silence Is Not Neutrality!

Iranian Islamist Thugocracy

It pains me to see and hear and read about what the Iranian Islamic Theocratic Thugs are doing to the Persian people fighting for freedom. And it pains me more (although I don't feel surprised at all, at all) to see how little our President Obama and the State Department seem willing to do to help.

Michael Ledeen writes at PajamasMedia:

Lessons Learned From Ten Days of the Iranian Uprising
There have been many — but the most resounding and the saddest is that the brave Iranian people are right to believe nobody in the outside world will help them. They’re on their own. (Also read Roger Simon: State Department Invites Iran Psycho-Killers to Fourth of July Parties and Richard Fernandez: The Kiss of Death)

Here's the link: Lessons Learned from Ten Days of the Iranian Uprising

Misplaced

I just recently heard a song by the Moshav Band, "Misplaced," that brought tears to my eyes. You can listen to it on the band's website The Moshav Band

Here's the lyrics (more or less)

- The Moshav Band Lyrics

Listening to the song, I thought of my grandparents running from the Tsarist antisemites, my cousins (the one's who survived the Nazi slaughter) running from Europe, and my cousins running from their dhimmitude and persecution in Muslim lands. I thought of my ancient ancestors yearning for Jerusalem.

I have to admit that even in the wonderful U.S., I still feel misplaced and yearn for my homeland.

You know where.