concluded second sefton potpourri

Absolutely nobody cared enough to ask me for my opinion. Really, one would think I would take a hint to keep it to myself. Anybody who thinks that has got to be a first-time visitor or densely naïve. Being both is not unheard of.

Somewhat to my chagrin, my rather perversely snide temper goaded me enough to burrow into my memory. In this case, I mean that portion, which is Coors befogged, Coors warped, Coors perforated, Coors impaired,Coors truncated . . . yea, even Coors blighted.

I went burrowing in hopes of pacifying that perversely snide temper by extracting enough recollection to justify my advancing a certain inference. Anyway, it's not so much something I care enough about to invest a great deal of cognitive capital.

More like, it has much more to do with what I think is a bunch of hints, tossed my way by some insalubrious male progeny of wretched canine maternity during one . . . or was it two, or three? no matter! . . . all-night dialogue, which was fueled by several six-packs of Coors. Maybe, I'm doing history a disservice by sparing the reader an exegesis on those hints, which I can barely recall. So what?! Let's slash to the cheese.

Sometime in the early 50s of the last century, the desecration of the Temple Mount was accomplished by some assassination, or other, in the al-Aqsa mosque.
. . . eYep, the above is the first item in this potpourri . . . chances are, the next item will deal with American domestic politics . . . dear visitor, y'all come back, rhaht?


. . . okay, the text above is the first item, now here's the second -

Well, it took a while but I did happen upon a provocative way to begin the reader's letter I had promised to submit to the PRESS & SUN-BULLETIN . . . here goes:
"In the glory of the heavens, wherein Allah reigns supreme, His Qu'ran and our calendar are now as one."

. . . eYep, you read it right, dear Reader. That's exactly how I'm planning to start that letter. It's a good guess that people familiar with my musings as I wear my philosophaster hat can readily guess what has to follow. Soon as I do write the letter, I'll publish it somewhere in this blog . . . pinky swear.

. . . oh, well, maybe next time, that item will deal with American domestic politics.

. . . I did it. I did submit that letter to the PRESS & SUN-BULLETIN. Here and Now, I should make the reader aware that I reserve the right to be smarter today than I was yesterday. And so, I changed my mind a little . . . oh, by the bye, this is that THIRD ITEM.

And as for the promised fourth item . . .

. . . here's hoping the corporate types, who run this country, have learned a valuable lesson the hard way . . . better a smart adversary than a stupid friend . . .

For the fifth item, I feel like jazzing up an earlier "bon mot". Electing politicians, who hate government, is not unlike putting a guy, who hates dogs, in charge of a dog kennel.

And now . . . ta'dah! . . . for the sixth item . . . yow'zah!

In my "moon stink" post, I got out on a limb by prognosticating that, eventually, a book with "imbecile" in the title will eventually be published. Well, I guess the way it'll work out for the American high jinks, now unfolding in Iraq, will be something like so. The adversary, who blunders less egregiously, wins.

Two factors are involved in that last statement. First off, the winning imbeciles chose the only battlefield, where victory was even remotely possible. Second, it would've impossible for them to choose a more accommodating enemy.

Here's how it works out. First off, the Kurds, who number about twenty percent (20%) of the population were already on the side of the imbeciles. Second, their common enemy alienated the Shi'a, who make up sixty percent (60%) of the population.

So, the gollums, fighting the imbeciles, effectively isolated themselves in the remaining twenty percent (20%) of the population.

Oh, yeah, here's the seventh item -

Outside of that last mention percentage, the average Iraqi thinks the American troops and their so-called coalition partners are nothing but a bunch of murderous thugs. So (?) what! It'll take murderous thugs to defeat the gollums.

Here's that eighth item -Each day, more and more people, who habitually click onto FOX NEWS are learning, the hard way undoubtedly, that there's much more to government than reducing taxes on those best able to afford paying, curtailing spending on programs for those most in need, and policing female genitalia.

. . . oh, yeah, here's the ninth item, the Palestinian people are unfortunate in their leadership. However, it's not so much because their leadership seldom misses an opportunity to blow off an opportunity. It's much worse than that. Ninety-nine (99) times out a hundred (100), given the chance to shoot themselves in the foot, Palestinian leadership has done so . . . in a heartbeat . . . cheerfully.

And the tenth item . . . I suspect that word about my "the supremes . . . GODLESS COMMIES!" prompted several visits . . . right here and now, I may as well confirm that I do have a snide sense of humor . . . maybe, I should revise the text therein to advise those visitors to peruse my "bubba da prez ..." post . . .

Okay, here's the promised eleventh item -

I think I have some feeling for how Zarathustra felt, just after his insightful irruption. Anyway, here's what I have to say with regard to the average Palestinian. Probably, such an individual, who's attained the conventional age of reason, would more readily concede Israel's right to exist than admit failure to seize a "once-in-a-millennium" opportunity.

now for that twelfth item -

. . . birds are the way they are because that's how their genes express themselves . . . bees are the way they are because their genes express themselves . . . maybe, political parties are the way they are because that's how their genes exoress themselves.

As for the Republican Party, might (?) it be that their inherent genes are most truthfully expressed by the current presidency!

thirteenth and concluding item -

. . in the manner of a bolt out of the blue, an insight took my breath away . .

In the movie PATTON, the actor portraying the general remarks that Americans love winners, and loathe losers. For my part, I suspect the same applies very much to the gorpes, who expended oodles of money to help Hezbollah ingratiate themselves with Lebanon's southern Shi'ites by means of a myriad of wonderful social services.

There's no denying what were the terms of the deal between Hezbollah and the gorpes in question. In return for that money, Hezbollah was to vex the Israelis. Oh, yes, along with the money, some weaponery was included in the deal. After all, it's pretty hard to vex an entire nation such as Israel, if all one has at hand is felafel.

After all the shooting and the bombing and the shelling stop, Hezbollah will be lucky, if they're allowed to keep pop guns. It was very uncool for their leadership to claim they would welcome WORLD WAR !!!.

Nope, that was very not so cool.

I'm willing to bet my five doughnuts against somebody's three that the powers that be are now looking askance at Hezbollah. It's one thing to vex a nation, it's quite another to threaten the whole world with the prospect of a nuclear winter.

The minute Hezbollah is bereft of the capacity to vex Israel, they'll also be bereft of the money, needed to fund that aforementioned myriad of wonderful social services. After all, why (?) should the aforementioned gorpes dump money down a rat hole, absent any prospect of service in return.

. . . talk about irony! . . . Just when the people, who benefited from the myriad of Hezbollah's social services, need those social services the most, they'll be lucky to get a C.A.R.E package . . . and likely enough, they'll be expected to pay for shipping and handling.

And to think, I was planning to write an item with the title, and I'm quoting,

"Did (?) Hezbollah fail to rescue (!) Islam"

oh, well, maybe, another time, I'll explore that theme.

toodles
....../
.he who is known as sefton

garden party crashed

. . . How (?) does one crash a garden party! . . .

. . . Let me count the ways . . .

The once "teen dream boat" and later late rock'n'roll star, Ricky Nelson, unintentionally crashed a garden party, granted with good intent. Instead of repeating some golden oldie, for the millionth time, such as NEVER BE ANYONE ELSE BUT YOU, he introduced the crowd of long-in-the-tooth teenagers in love to freshly minted material.

. . . well, the freshly minted material received a chilly reception . . . the crowd in Madison Square Garden bought their tickets to groove to tunes, the magic of which had made their long-ago years in high school tolerable, interspersed with enchanted moments . . . eYep, that's one way to crash a garden party. The experience did lead to some more new music. Ricky was inspired to compose GARDEN PARTY.

And then, there's my way. If being true to myself means my becoming nothing to everybody, very well then, I shall brace myself for whatever comes, from my being true to myself. At this point, one might expect me to aver my preference for being hated for who I am over being loved for who I am not.

. . . well, I feel obligated to qualify that just a tad, by referring to a rock'n'roll innovator, Elvis Costello. He turned heads with his song WHAT'S SO FUNNY ABOUT PEACE, LOVE AND UNDERSTANDING. At the time, he was something else.

When SATURDAY NIGHT LIVE was still SATURDAY NIGHT LIVE, he accepted a gig to perform a tune, during that live and, at that time, straight-to--air telecast. Mr Costello wanted to perform one song, whereas the show's producer expressed a preference for another.

So, during the live and straight-to-air telecast, Elvis begins his gig with a bar of the song the producer preferred. Being a free spirit, the rock'n'roll verbally declines to continue with that song, and then launches straightway into the tune he prefers.

I have it via a very good source that the jilted producer, standing just behind the teevee camera, was flipping Elvis the bird. When I heard the scuttlebutt, I spontaneously confessed that I never would've had the "guts" to emulate our particular Elvis.

Nowadays, every so often, I get awarded "brownie points" by the figuratively speaking local garden party. And I'm disinclined to spurn them. In truth, I appreciate those brownie points, if only because they enhance the quality of my life, here in the Pennsylvania borough of Susquehanna Depot.

Evidently, it's become expected of me to toss off, occasionally, a snippet of my snide sense of humor. Maybe, that's how come I got excused for proposing "homoërotique" as a brand logo for a cologne that commemorates this country's lunar landing.

The great General Charles De Gaulle is quoted as saying, "Old age is a shipwreck". If that's true, then middle-age might be considered a worn tire in dire need of additional air pressure. Smacking more of bathos than pathos, our particular Elvis briefly shows up in the first AUSTIN POWERS movie. Accompanied by Burt Bacharach, he sings I'LL NEVER FALL IN LOVE AGAIN.

Oh, what the hay, I may as well continue with my snide sense of humor. Elsewhere in this blog, one shall find sefton posts that delight Jewish visitors. Evidently, they dig my averring that the moon exudes the scent of "macho TOP GUN 'need for speed'". My five doughnuts to somebody's three, those few Palestinian visitors fail to be tickled pink. And who (?) can blame them!

In their considered opinion, they get taunted by some wise ass with the alleged failure by their predecessors to seize a "once-in-a-millennium" opportunity . . . c'mon, if it happened, that was sixty (60) years ago.

I'm told that Palestinians meet up with their friends in this or that café. In certain places like that, some knot, or other, of their "avant garde" congregates, less to consume coffee than to congratulate each other for accepting a commission in their mode of existence.

With the world having become "global village", eventually, the notion of "'once-in-a-millennium' opportunity" will come to the attention of some knot, or other, of the Palestinian avant garde. Soon or later, quips inspired by that notion will be thrown like darts in some London pub . . . I mean a place, where warm beer washes down deep-fried-dry fish and greasy chips.

. . . "Some 'once-in-a-millennium' opportunity! The Americans got Einstein. We got stuck with Bernie the attorney." . . .

toodles
....../
.he who is known as sefton

garden party crashed - snide follow-up

How (?) come the Muslim counterpart of the infidel Angelina "Lara Croft" Jolie has yet (!) to make her appearance in Darfur.



Oh, alright (!) already, so, it doesn't take much to evoke the snide in me. No doubt about it, I was inspired by the clipping to insert the above quip in green text.

Elsewhere in this blog, I pose a provocative question. "Is there any Muslim in the world, capable of introspection." In response, someone avowed the question practically begged for NO as an answer.

And in response to that, I allowed that Iraq's Grand Ayatollah for the Shi'a, al-Sistani, does, from time to time, display that capacity. In this instance, were he worthy of the high regard in which he's held, being informed about that clipping should've caused the grand ayatollah to weep with shame.

Really, just were (?) in the world are those Muslim groups, who are trying to prevent Muslim slaughtering Muslim. So far as I'm concerned, the Darfur genocide is a Muslim scandal. Really, how (?) does it happen that Muslims have to depend on Jews to keep from being murdered by other Muslims!

. . . well, there might be more to come, but focused on the "general run of humanity", as regards the Palestinian alleged failure to seize a "once-in-a-millennium" opportunity . . . we shall see . . .




. . . snide continues . . .

There's a story in ancient Greek mythology about a king, who offended some god or goddess. In reprisal, his ears were transmuted. In all of his kingdom, only his barber knew the truth about the king's ears.

The barber was an incorrigible gossip to the point that keeping mum was incinerating his nerves. Were he to blab, he would in short order incur the king's wrath, execution. Near the barber's house, there was a pond, wherein grew a bed of reeds.

Seeking relief from the burden of the king's secret, the barber would, at dawn, visit the pond, making sure nobody was around, close enough to eavesdrop. Then and there, he would whisper his secret to the reeds.

Evidently, the offended deity was hell bent on punishing the king. So, whenever the wing blew through the reeds, people would hear, "the king has ass's ears, the king has ass's ears, the king has ass's ears . . ."

For years, I had to wonder why Avram Beilitzsyn had bothered with me. Now, I believe that story goes a long way towards clarifying the mystery. Whereas everybody else saw in Avram a brilliant but sorry ass loser, I saw a casualty for the sake of his ideal of spirit. In my considered opinion, just as a military casualty for the sake of worthwhile cause is worthy of respect, so too is such a casualty as was Avram.

I realize now he was bursting at the seams to impart to somebody, with the capacity to appreciate, startling insights, disruptive observations. Simultaneously, he was living in a world that was in no way ready for such.

Often, we would pass the night in conversation, splitting six-pack of Coors after six-pack of Coors. I never drank so much beer before, or since. . . . whatever the government, the authorities found Avram a bit much . . . eYep, that's the kind of hairpin he was.

Back when I could stay up all night, swilling beer, discussing the eschatological implications of Nietzsche, I was fascinated by people, such as Avram, who were driven . . . I mean absolutely driven . . . to plumb the depths, to scale the heights, to pioneer in undiscovered countries of mind and spirit and heart.

Nowadays, in this the beginning of the 21st century, bits and pieces of those conversations bob up in my mind . . . oh, just for the heck of it, I'm repeating, as best as my Coors-impaired memory allows, here what Avram claimed as the "truthiness" about the relationships among Abraham, Isaac and Ishmael.

In the Judaic Old Testament, Abraham was commanded by God to sacrifice Isaac. According to certain Muslim scholars, Allah rather demanded Ishmael as the huam sacrifice. According to Avram, both traditions report certain facets of the truth, while omitting certain other facets.

Here's what should've been reported, according to Avram. Ishmael begged Abraham to spare Isaac.

. . . here's where my Coors impaired memory gets, well, blurry . . . maybe, Abraham was petitioned to defy God . . . maybe, Abraham was petitioned to try appeasing the Almighty with a vol--

. . . ew, please excuse me for a moment, the mere attempt to recall that bit of conversation evokes the absolutely heinous nausea of the most wicked hangovers I ever had to endure . . . nowadays, when it comes to indulgence in alcoholic beverages, I'm pretty much restricted to a goblet of merlot with a nice steak dinner . . . I mean fillet mignon, smothered in mushrooms and sautéed leeks, and absolutely NO ketchup . . . oh, yeah, and I want a decent orchestra in the background, playing Eddy Duchin.

. . . oh, yeah, oh, yeah, now I recall . . . oh, yeah, Avram was intrigued by some Arab proverb . . . "those who ask Allah for nothing insult the Deity." . . .

Now, let's suppose, Avram would say, that God, out of sheer generosity, without being asked, bestowed upon somebody most in need a marvelous boon. If asking God for nothing riles the Deity. Spurning just such a gift has got to be infuriating, to say the least. . . . ya'know, Avram would say, with a wink, there's darn little percentage in ticking off the Almighty.

Not too long ago, somebody had the nerve to throw my own words in my face. I had absolutely no right to be so hard on an entire religion for making an allegedly "wrong" choice . . . "let the infidel Americans have the moon, we'll keep the mount" . . .

To allow for the simple possibility of making the allegedly "right" choice for the moon, the general run of humanity had to be settled, at that time, on a much loftier plateau of spirit, the quest for which via heart and mind and soul inspired Avram . . . now that I think about it . . . that might be another reason for why he bothered with me. Unlike so many of my contemporaries, I could at least posit, well, if only as a matter worthy of intellectual discussion, if only for the sake of pleasant diversion, the possibility of this or that "lofty" plateau of spirit.

ah, sorry about that long list of qualifiers . . .

Anyway, that bit about that "plateau of spirit" does reflect exactly my thinking about the impossible choice that fate or history or Providence or the Deity had dropped upon Islam.

We have it on the word of five-star General Douglas MacArthur, Japan's American pro tem satrap, that success is a poor teacher . . . failure must make for a wondrous one, or should at any rate.

Truthiness be told, I'm perturbed by what might be the task, assigned me by the general scheme of things. In as much as I am struck by my awe-inspiring humility being my most illustrious virtue, well . . . anyway . . .

Maybe, I'm putting the finishing touches on that aforementioned task. If so, great, I would like to start selling life insurance to the end of paying down my credit card debt . . . wood'ja (?) buh-leave! It was embarrassing, when I told "Tony Thumbs" about how interest I'm paying. That man wept with envy.

. . .

What if, Avram threw out, after we had finished splitting a third six-pack, God or Jehovah or Yahweh or Allah sets up tests, with the intention of having us fail . . . perhaps, the tests could be for us as individuals . . . perhaps, for us as secular institutions . ... as entire religions . . .

Being adamantly adiaphorestic, even back then, I took that "what if" as some sort of joke rabbinical students share only among themselves. Even so, I latched onto it, in spite of my inebriation. Back then, I was eager to listen to Avram as he compared and contrasted Jewish theionics with Christian theionics.

At this point, I am compelled by my snide nature to refer another military worthy, namely, brevet Admiral James Tiberius Kirk, master and commander of the starship ENTERPRISE (NCC-1701). In one episode, the good captain recalls the test he had to take, when he was a midshippeur at "Star Fleet Academy". Every midshippeur and midshippeuse, who had preceded him, failed the test. Kirk passed.

As the test was set up by Kirk's instructors, there was absolutely no chance for him to complete it successfully. On his own, without bothering to asking for permission, Kirk altered the test constraints, thereby allowing him to complete the test successfully. Funny thing, instead of getting reprimanded for that gambit, Kirk the midshippeur received a commendation.

Here's where I honk my own horn, so to speak. Midshippeur Kirk's approach resonates beautifully with the fourth item in my The CORLEONE MANIFESTO . . . "what is above our heads and what is underneath our feet are small matters, compared to what is within us" . . . oh, yeah, I'm obligated to admit that the foregoing is cribbed from Goethe.

Anyway, the manifesto in question is found at the very bottom of this blogsite. Between there and here, you, dear Reader, are bound to encounter some very interesting material . . . honest injun . . . my five doughnuts to your three . . .

toodles
...../
.he who is known as sefton

the problem with the Palestinians -

Their problem is not so much that, whatever their leadership, the Palestinians never miss an opportunity to miss an opportunity. It goes deeper than that. Given the chance to shoot themselves in the foot, the Palestinians do so . . . in a heartbeat ... cheerfully.

moon stink whupt gollum butt

More than just for the heck of it, this post's opening passages resonate with the drollery of its title. Years and years ago, I espied a rather charming aphorism in the office of Oregon State University's most notable Communist . . . oh, what a wonderful geezer, Professor Goheen was!

In my eye of memory, I can see the quaint calligraphy . . .

A jot of nonsense,
every now and then,
is relished
by the wisest of men.

Oh, yes, at this point, I feel obligated to alert you, dear Reader, that the concept of "wisdom" will eventually rear its rather singular head. For now, however, let's indulge in a little more drollery with a joke that abut, metaphorically speaking, on the notion of "whupt". Let's start with a question:
. . . How (?) does one tell the Pollack at the cock fight.
And the answer is, "He's the guy who brought the duck."
. . . How (?) does one tell the Italian at the cock fight.
And the answer is, "He's the guy who bets on the duck."
. . . How (?) does one know the Mafia has an interest in the fight.

And the answer is, "The duck wins."

For a moment, let's try to infer the reactions of those, who with a snigger bet against the duck. C'mon, it's gotta reasonable to infer puzzlement, indignation . . . perhaps, even chagrin. Manifestly, only a sucker takes such an obvious sucker bet.

Taking that inference just a step further, we can conjecture how Muslims reacted to their defeats at the hands of the Israelis. Even when they catch the Israelis by surprise, as during the Yom Kippur War, they still lose. By rights, the state of Israel should today be relegated to the history books as a "GONE WITH THE WIND" phantasm.

Elsewhere, I've avowed that, within a narrow window of history, fate had imposed upon Islam a choice between mutually exclusive alternatives. Choosing one meant obviating the other.

In a manner of speaking, let's slash to the cheese. The choice Islam made has led to the necessity of bearing up under several ignominies. One springs from the scent the moon must exude for centuries to come. I mean the scent of "macho TOP GUN 'need for speed'", ever since that first message from the moon to the earth, and I'm quoting, "the eagle has landed."

That means the religious observance of the Faithful is on a timetable that's determined by the phases of a monument to American infidel technology, ultimately to the infidel United States of America. Had Islam chosen the other alternative, maybe, that first message could've been, and I'm quoting by way of supposition, "In the glory of the heavens, wherein Allan reigns supreme, His Qu'ran and our calendar are as one."

Yeah, I do mention another ignominy, but let's refrain from pouring it on. Instead, lemme focus on the IMPLICIT meaning of this piece's title. By "moon stink", I'm referring to the United States of America. People, familiar with American rural dialect, recognize "whupt" as the past tense of "whip". As for "gollum", that'll come up later.

Elsewhere, I aver that the average Israeli is too embarrassed to concur with a certain statement. That statement being, the average Palestinian has the soul of a gollum. And the average Israeli is too self-respecting to demur.

By reasonable extension, "gollum" may be applied to those Muslims, who would welcome the destruction of Israel. And if one goes one more step, the killing of a major operative for al Qaeda in Iraq by a couple five-hundred-pound bombs means the killing of a major gollum. Oh, by the way, people, who are familiar with LORD OF THE RINGS, are well aware of that term's connotations.

Again, let's slash to the cheese, eventually some brash glory hound of a history will pen an exegesis of the American triumph in Iraq. If the historian in question is an American, likely enough, the title will be something like so, "HOW OUR IMBECILES WON THE 'GOLLUM' WAR". If the historian in question is a Muslim, likely enough, the title will be something like so, "WHY OUR GALLANT HOLY WARRIORS CHOSE TO SPARE THE IRAQI PEOPLE FURTHER BLOODSHED" . . . yeah, sure.

. . . eYep, it all could've been avoided, had Islam opted for that other alternative.

Again, elsewhere, I come close to claiming that Islam's opting for that other alternative would've had to depend on a certain circumstance. Specifically, the general run of humanity would've had to inhabit a much loftier plateau of spirit than then . . . and than now.

Adiaphorestic me, I say, "Just as well". Expecting the general run of humanity to inhabit such a plateau would be expecting koi to thrive in a pond, set up by some "do-it-yours" doofus on the summit of Mount Everest.

At the moment, the general run of Islam is being roiled by the very existence of the state of Israel. . . . Well, with regard to that, I say to those people, to whom it concerns, "oh, br'dah, you ain't seen n't'in yet." In an easily foreseeable future, the general run of Islam will be royally roiled.

Okay, now that I got the average reader to this point, I like indulging in a little philosophaster musing. This easily foreseeable future will raise questions about "spirituality". Here's the thing.

Let's entertain the notion that Islam opted for the obviated alternative. And that led to a first message from the moon, redolent with frankincense and myrrh. In that case, Islam would've been allowed to enjoy a century, or more, of continuous "gender peace". Of course, there will be those, who'll toss around such terms as "female oppression", "patriarchal tyranny", "dictatorship of testosterone", et cetera.

Yes and yes again, the good people at the "hear, O Israel" blog have yet to grant me formal permission to forge a hyperlink to the relevant post there. To that, I say, "So (?) what!" I'm a wonderful person, whose most illustrious virtue is my awe-inspiring humility. Anyway, the hyperlink will be found just underneath the closing endorsement.

As for me, who am known as sefton, I'm predicting some glory hound of a newly minted philosophy professor will write a book, the title of which will be something like, "PROLEGOMENA TO ANY FUTURE EMPIRICAL SPIRITUALITY" . . . bastard, anyway . . . will I get so much (?) as a mention in a footnote! . . . doan'be an ass!

. . . yeah, I'm bitter . . . I have a right to be . . . I have a right to sing the blues. There are simply way too few years left to me, during which I can accumulate the necessary academic credentials to undertake such a task . . . and don't even (!) think of throwing of Immanuel Kant in my face.

toodles
...../
.he who is known as sefton

click on, probe about, and depending on your orientation, either welcome or deplore


http://hearoisrael.blogspot.com/2006/06/freedom-fighter.html


EPIMETHEAN COMMENT

reviewing the tail end this post, I'm compelled to exhale with a "wow!"

The next time I write something about the Middle East, I'll be sure to comply with the following protocol. First off, I shall refrain writing the piece directly in my blog. Instead, I'll write on a separate word processor. And then, after I finish writing, I shall let it "age" for a few days, before I dare take it up again.

Just to reassure my numerous devoted fans, I'm writing this in a coolly deliberative mood. I'm deliberately allowing the original text to remain as I first published it . . . in a word STET. Certainly, I can easily revise the above. And that's what people should expect of a regular blogger. In my case, however, revision post factum would smack of "cheating".

Besides, I'm standing by my prognostication that something like the aforementioned "prolegomena" will be penned by some brash glory hound, with a newly minted philosophy doctorate. I suppose I should make like a gentleman, and wish all the best for that individual. Take my word for it. That freshly ordained philosophy professor will need lots and lots and lots of intellectual stamina. In no way, do I envy that bastard that task.

Just to prove that I am in a coolly deliberative mood, I shall now animadvert to that incident, wherein some teenage girl is videotaped screaming for her deceased father, killed by a wayward artillery shell. Evidently, the Hamas-led Palestinian Authority claims that clip justifies tossing explosives into Israel with rudely fabricated rockets.Well, I saw that clip, thanks to some cable news channel.

. . . ya'know, I had no idea there may well be a film school in Berlin. The technique reminded me more of Weimar impressionism than Scorsese. However, some cineastes might be justified to aver Italian neorealism.


. . HERE I STAND . . .

Yes and yes again, I believe members of an innocent Palestinian family were killed and injured . . . there's some dispute about just whose explosive was the immediate cause . . . maybe, errant Israeli artillery shell, maybe, mis-placed Palestinian land mine . . .

Still, I strongly suspect that effrontery took place in the contrivance of that "news" clilp . . . one would think that somebody would be trying to comfort that grieving young woman, rather than videocording her grief . . .

Maybe, my recall of previous attempts by Palestinian gollums to exploit other painful incidents coloured my intuition . . .

What follows is going to be a little elaborated, so, please, dear Reader, have a little patience . . .

The topic concerns so-called martyrs, who commit murder by suicidally detonating explosives inside a bus, crammed with non-combatant civilians. It's one thing for an adult, who's say eighteen (18) years old, to do so . . . however horrible such an act may be . . .

It's an even worse offense . . . I'd say to the point of nauseating . . . to indoctrinate small children to the end they'll admire such martyrs, and even aspire to carry out such murders.

Here's how Palestinian gollums deepened my adiaphorestic temper. Somehow, some small boy, I guess no more than eleven years old, got killed during a contretemps with Israeli authorities. yeah and yeah again, likely enough, the Palestinian authorities staged an elaborate funeral for the kid . . .

And then, Palestinian media broadcast an interview with the kid, who was allegedly enjoying his new residence in Paradise. In case, dear Reader, you missed the point, please allow me to elucidate. Palestinian media were broadcasting an interview with a kid, who had BEFOREHAND already died and gone to heaven.

Maybe, that broadcast was for the benefit of some few adults, dumb enough to believe such an interview was possible. Nonetheless, the implication is unavoidable. That broadcast was meant to convince unsuspecteding kids to expect some sort of celestial reward by murderous martyrdom . . .

. . . thank God, I'm adiaphorestic . . .

oh, yeah, and now for the maraschino cherry on top of the sundae . . .

even al-Jazeera agrees that a certain gollum got taken out by a couple five-hundred-pount bombs . . . here's the thing in that nobody's talking about the sex of the pilots, who delivered the bombs . . . ya'know, they could've been female.

scavenger hunt continues . . .

yes and yes again, I did comply with the protocol with regard to this inserted text. And I'm glad I did. Funny, is it not? Thousands of Palestinians have, over the years, sacrificed life and limb and even decency for the sake of destroying Israel. And yet, the average Palestinian, who's attained the conventional age of reason, would more readily concede Israel's right to exist than admit the failure to sieze a "once-in-a-millennium" opportunity.

somewhere farther on down in this blog, there's another item in this scavenger hunt . . . happy hunting!

the scent of the moon

Somewhere in some of the finest reportage ever written, OF A FIRE ON THE MOON, the piece's author, novelist Norman Mailer, remarks on the absence of odor. In a reader's letter to the periodical that published the piece, Mailer gets confuted. There was an odor, specifically, the aroma of "Presbyterian sanctity".

Maybe, those of us with a developed olfactory sense for metaphor would demur with the novelist and that reader. If there had been anything in that lunar project that reeked, it was that first message from the moon to the earth, specifically, and I'm quoting, "the eagle has landed".

. . . okay, so I can be a little slow on the uptake. In this case, it took me nearly two decades to become aware of the scent of macho TOP GUN "need for speed". If it were possible to merchandise it in an after-shave balm, maybe, the appropriate brand logo would be "homoerotique" with an umlaut over the "e". The cable channel commercial for the brand could feature beautiful young men, playing volleyball bare chested.

Oh, my dear Lord, NO! Once again, my snide sense of humor snuk down and slid through my teeth, ah, in a manner of expression. And I wonder how (?) come I have no friends.

Besides reeking, that first message from the moon to the earth also conveyed an iota of underlying braggadocio, and I'm quoting, "From now on in, whenever people on earth gaze up at the moon, they'll be gazing up at a monument to American technology, ultimately to the United States of America."

Let's entertain the notion of a first message from the moon to the earth, which was redolent of frankincense and myrrh. I submit such a message would, most likely, have had as its text, and I'm quoting, "In the glory of the heavens, wherein Allah reigns supreme, His Qu'ran and our calendar are as one".

Elsewhere, I've avowed that, within a narrow window of history, Islam was compelled to choose between mutually exclusive alternatives. Choosing one meant obviating the other. The narrow window of history stretched from the end of the Second World War in Europe to the United Nations' partition of Palestine. The mutually exclusive alternatives were either reach for the moon or cling to the Temple Mount.

Reaching for the moon involved welcoming those Jews, who had survived the Holocaust, and were seeking a new life in Palestine. The very initiation of opposition to this migration obviated reaching for the moon.

. . . maybe, I'm inserting just a tad too much concept to be absorbed on the first reading . . . to that, I say "So (?) what! . . . as I've written elsewhere . . . "my blog, my rules" . . . so, here's the possibly excessive concept . . . get ready for it . . . "ISLAM BLEW OFF A 'ONCE-IN-A-MILLENNIUM' OPPORTUNITY".

Here in the beginning of the 21st century and centuries to come, Islam must bear up under two ignominies. One being, the religious observance of the Faithful relies on the timetable that's determined by the phases of a monument to American infidel technology, ultimately to the infidel United States of America. The other,which is best considered in sheer SECULAR terms, the Temple Mount has all the significance of a consolation prize.

Apropos of that latter ignominy, I should like to issue a challenge. Show me the sapsucker, who rejoices in the ownership of a consolation prize, and I'll show you a "sorry ass" loser.

. . . ya'know, now that I think about it . . . maybe, the moon itself exudes macho TOP GUN "need for speed", and will for centuries to come . . . oh, br'dah, talk about ignominy!

toodles
...../
.he who is known as sefton

. . . oh, let's let the last item in the scavenger hunt with regard to the "average" Palestinian . . .

Suppose one posits that my comment about the average Palestinian is true, then what? Well, for one thing, it would be a good guess that, metaphysically at least, that would bear significantly on how the parties, whom circumstances will per force assemble, should proceed in negotiating a settlement between Palestinian and Israeli.

. . . oh, yeah, just to remind you, good Reader, about what I'm conjecturing about the so-called Palestinian. In spite of all the news coverage given, over the years, to such a person, the average Palestinian remains a recondite being.

And yet, I go out on a limb by remarking that the average Palestinian would more readily concede Israel's right to exist than admit the failure to sieze a "once-in-a-millennium" opportunity.

. . . ya'know, one might speculate about the motivation behind the attempt by that assassinated Jordian monarch to reach a rapprochement with the Jews. Maybe, he was trying to salvage as much as was possible from that once-in-a-millennium opportunity. Right now, only God has any chance to ask the man to either confirm or deny . . .