F*ck you, too

[melchett mike, talking to his reflection in his laptop screen, after suffering a fortnight of “F*ck Israel” and “F*ck Jews” . . . ]

Well, f*ck you, too. F*ck you and this whole Jew-hating world. F*ck all the  protesters who, it seems, don’t believe Jews have a right to defend themselves. Where have you been these past eight years, while missiles have been landing on our women and children every day? And what would you have done if they were landing on yours, you self-righteous hypocrites? F*ck Bianca Jagger and Annie Lennox, and all the other has-beens, who have been trying to revive their flagging careers aboard the human rights bus (the one which doesn’t stop in Israel). F*ck Roseanne Barr and Alexei Sayle, and all the other “rent a Jews”. You are a f*cking disgrace. F*ck George “Hezbollah has never been a terrorist organisation” Galloway, the nauseating Scottish prick, who spends his entire wretched existence kissing-up to Muslims. For someone who claims he didn’t admire Saddam (but who “salute[d his] courage, strength and indefatigability”), you might as well have been blowing the genocidal maniac. F*ck Ken Livingstone, the “concentration camp guard”-comparing, Hugo Chávez-supporting, hypocrite. If you and Galloway spent less time offending Jews, you wouldn’t need to spend so much claiming you are not anti-Semites. F*ck Robert Fisk, Gideon Levy and Amira Hass, those Arab-loving affronts to objective journalism. F*ck the pompous, self-righteous BBC. We might as well try to get the truth off Al Jazeera. F*ck the Turks, the Armenian-murdering, Kurdish-persecuting, women-subjecting, wrong hole-f*cking hypocrites. F*ck Ahmedinejad, the poisonous Persian dwarf in his M&S summer jackets. Did no one ever tell you M&S was Jewish?! F*ck the terrorist-protecting “human shields”. What were you expecting when you stood in front of Caterpillars, you dumb assholes?! F*ck the UN and its double standards. How come you can always find Gaza on your maps, but never Congo, Somalia, Iraq, Sudan, Pakistan, Myanmar, Zimbabwe, . . . ? F*ck the Palestinians, the miserable f*cking low-lives, spurning every opportunity for peace that has come their way. F*ck all the Arabs, who despise the Palestinians more than anyone, and have only ever used them for their own Evil, self-serving ends. F*ck Abu “Hook Hands” Hamza, who should be left to rot and die in his stinking Belmarsh sty. Every time you try to wipe, and scratch your ass to f*ck, repent for being the bomb-making terrorist that you are. F*ck the memories of the treasonous filth who blew themselves up on London Transport. May every one of your 72 virgins be hung like a horse. F*ck Mashal, Nasrallah and Bin Laden, sending their sons to their deaths while hiding like rats in their bunkers. And f*ck Hamas, for using mosques, women and children to protect their own yellow asses. Get the Vaseline ready . . . your virgins are on their way! Believe me, neither Allah nor Mohammed gives a flying f*ck about any of you Evil bastards. From the protests in Edinburgh to the demos in Auckland. From the slums of Bradford to the rat-infested tunnels of Gaza. From Finsbury Park Mosque to every other one preaching lies, hatred and murder. Let the bombs land, let the fires rage, let Evil burn to f*cking ash, and then let the waters rise and submerge it.

[pause]

But, also, f*ck you, melchett mike . . . for ever expecting anything else.

(And f*ck you, Monty Brogan, for giving me the idea.)

Aren’t Hamas ironic . . . don’t you think?

I couldn’t help but be wryly amused by a statement emanating from Hamas, these past few days, comparing Israeli soldiers who had entered Gaza to “rats”.

Morissette: Even fitter than the IDF

Considering that Hamas fighters are scurrying around underground tunnels (tails between their legs),  the “rats” analogy – made by spokesman, Ismail Radwan, on Hamas’s Al Aqsa TV (is there an Al Jazeera mosque?) – is more than a little ironic.

This is especially so when one further considers that – while Hamas leaders have been hiding throughout the entire conflict (as my Airstrike on Gaza post, on day one, predicted they would) – Israel’s top commanders have chosen to remain in the field, side by side with their men (Ha’aretz article).

Even Palestinian sources are blaming Hamas for not coming out and fighting the IDF; but rather taking refuge in, and shooting from, densely populated areas, leaving innocent civilians to bear the brunt of the inevitable IDF response. Senior Hamas officials have, apparently, even been hiding in hospital maternity wards. (Ha’aretz article)

So who exactly, Mr. Radwan,  are the “rats”?!

Even Alanis couldn’t help but be struck by the irony.

Days of Awe, Heroes and Whores

I generally don’t “do” awe (it entails reverence). But seeing Israel’s young men (many still in their teens) leaving their loved ones, these past few days, and going off to battle, has filled me with the damn thing.

As a result of my late Aliyah (immigration), my service in the IDF was both short and depressingly pointless – at one stage, I was spending entire weeks in a warehouse, counting nuts and bolts for tanks – and, to quote Woody Allen (yes, I know, again), “In the event of war, I’m a hostage.”

IDF ground forces entering Gaza, Saturday evening

I just cannot begin to imagine how it must feel to enter Gaza – never mind in pitch-darkness (as IDF soldiers did on Saturday evening) – in the full knowledge that it is teeming with deadly enemies, operating in a labyrinth of underground tunnels (a captured IDF soldier is worth far more to Hamas than a dead one, and one was almost dragged into a tunnel yesterday).

On yesterday’s evening news, parents at hospital bedsides were relating how the main concern of their injured sons was to return to their combat units as quickly as possible, and to be reunited with their comrades.

I am sufficiently self-aware to know that I have never had the fortitude to do what they are doing (I almost passed out during the opening sequence of Saving Private Ryan – particularly embarrassing on a first date – so, the next time I am derogatory about Israeli males, please remind me as to what many of them were experiencing while I was struggling with my petty university “issues”).

In sharp contrast to the “soldiers” of Hamas, Hizbollah, and Al Qaeda, etc – whose world view and motivation are predicated on racism and hate – Israel’s young men are not there out of negative feelings towards Palestinians, Arabs or Muslims . . . but rather out of love for, and to defend, their families, People and Land. And this is precisely why Israel will emerge victorious, on this occasion too.

What is important is not that you “speak out as a Jew” – most of those who have done so, this past week and a half, have no interest in their Jewishness whatsoever – but what you “do as a Jew”.

There is no finer example of this than the selfless and courageous soldiers of the IDF. They are the true, modern-day Jewish heroes. And all of the “whores” and sell out merchants (see my earlier posts on Alexei Sayle, Gideon Levy and Harold Pinter) put together – who have been raising their ugly heads and voices – are not worth a single one of them.

Chazak ve’ematz! (Be strong and of good courage, Joshua 1:6-9)

The reason Israel is winning the war . . .

Jew for Sayle: Alexei’s Bid to Become UK’s Number One Self-Hating Jew

Harold Pinter’s body may only just have stiffened, but an unsavoury tussle is already underway for his ignoble position, as The UK’s Number One Self-Hating Jew. At a news conference in London, yesterday – calling for an end to Israel’s right to defend itself – author and comedian Alexei Sayle staked his claim for the much coveted crown, branding Israel a “murderer”, “rapist” and “bully”.

Other participants in the conference, George “saluter of Saddam” Galloway and Ken “you are just like a concentration camp guard” Livingstone, might also have had good claims for the title . . . if only they had been Jewish (let’s be thankful for small mercies). Ex-Eurythmics (now fading) star, Annie Lennox, meanwhile, can perhaps be excused for her anti-Israeli stance, having been married to one; while listening to Bianca Jagger’s platitudes made it clear why it was so important for her to keep her ex-husband’s name. What an odd gathering of rogues and lightweights!

In 1995, I saw Alexei Sayle in a stand-up performance in his home city of Liverpool. It was one of the funniest evenings of my life. I also enjoy his absurd, surreal writing. But when it comes to Israel, the 56-year old does all Jews, but especially those in the UK, a grave disservice.

“I want to feel proud of Israel, I want to be proud of my people, but I am ashamed”, Sayle duped reporters yesterday. Rather than touting his wares for “weddings and bar mitzvahs” (like less celebrated Jewish artists), Sayle – who has never been known to show even the slightest interest in Judaism or his Jewishness – hires, or rather sells, himself out as an “Israel basher”.

In fact, the Jewishness of Sayle, Pinter and their ilk would appear to be defined purely by a pathological hatred of Israel, and a willingness to be used by the enemies of both Jews and Israel (very often one and the same). (For the distinction I draw between a self-hating Jew and a Jew-hater, see my earlier post on the Death of Harold Pinter.)

Sayle should know that he has sunk to the very lowest depths when even many Arab states, hardly lovers of Israel, have expressed their understanding of (if not support for) Israel’s actions against Hamas.

The possible causes of such self-loathing are worthy of a dedicated post, but Sayle’s parents were ardent Communists, beliefs that probably alienated them from, and perhaps turned them against, Liverpool’s Jewish community. Alexei, too, joined the Communist Party. But where does a Jew in name alone get the arrogance, presumption and self-importance to state, as Sayle did yesterday, that “it’s important that Jewish people who have a public profile . . . speak out to say that this is not being done in our name”?

Whether or not “Israel has an idea of itself as being noble” or “the good guy”, as Sayle claims, the fact remains that it is (especially when compared to every single Islamic or Arab regime) – even in the midst of a hugely complicated and dangerous operation, Israel is permitting humanitarian aid to enter Gaza and warning civilians to evacuate targets of impending attacks. It is unimaginable that any Palestinian faction (never mind Hamas) would have done the same, if the roles had been reversed.

Sayle then embarked on a course in kindergarten psychology: “what you do is you blame the people that you’ve killed and you hear all the time from Israeli spokespeople that they are angry with the people they have murdered for making them murder them . . . it is the psychology of the murderer, it is the psychology of the rapist, it is the psychology of the bully. That’s what Israel is in this situation.”

A few questions, Mr. Sayle . . .

• In the eight years since they began, have you even once spoken out against the rocket attacks on Israeli civilians, and said that they had to stop? And what about the suicide bombings before them?
• Why do you, especially as a Jew, appear to view Israeli blood as cheaper than Palestinian?
• Have you ever once, as the left-wing intellectual that you appear to consider yourself, criticised, inter alia, the homophobic or sexist policies of Hamas, or those of other Islamic or Arab regimes?
• And have you ever been to Israel, the country that you claim you “want to feel proud of”?

Should you have the integrity and courage to examine the self-loathing, Muslim-pandering bed that you have made for yourself, I invite you to visit Israel as my guest. I will take you down to Sderot and Ashkelon, to meet some of “[your] people”, who have been living in a continual state of fear during eight years of Palestinian rocket attacks. I will also take you to meet some of the thousands of victims of Palestinian terror, and to some of the families of the thousands more who are no longer here to tell their stories.

It would certainly make for an interesting BBC documentary.

Perhaps, then, Mr. Sayle, you would no longer be “ashamed”. On second thoughts, you probably still would . . . but only because you have been such a fool.

melchett mike’s Loss of Innocence: Blighty’s New Years Past

I have missed England these past weeks. It is the only time of year that I do . . . the seemingly interminable build-up to Christmas; the lazy workplace atmosphere beforehand; Christmas Eve in the pub; the great telly, especially the “Christmas Special” comedies (we Brits do it best); the festive season football programme; and for Jews (or good ones, at least), not having had a “kiss under the mistletoe”, the midnight snog on New Year’s Eve.

I came of age (and almost in another way, too, I seem to recall) on that New Year’s Eve, 1983.

I was 16, and never been kissed. My excuse is that I had only ever been in Orthodox primary and secondary (boys) schools, and a religious youth group. I only learned about “the birds and the bees” well after my Bar Mitzvah, over a game of table tennis with my next door neighbor, Graham. I was sure he was winding me up (as he usually did), until I confronted my parents with the revelation. It was a rude awakening from my constant marvelling about the wonder of couples being able to conceive by thinking about it.

And I’d spent considerable time thinking about that first snog (and more, after first setting eyes on Altered Images’ Clare Grogan [right] on Top of the Pops, and then in Gregory’s Girl). But it just never happened. Until that New Year’s Eve.

On the previous New Year’s Eve, 1982, I remember standing transfixed with jealousy, next to my cousin, as his older brother snogged the most desirable girl in our youth group year.

Even that New Year’s Eve started pretty inauspiciously. A party in Hendon, the dull North West London suburb where I grew up.

I am sure I didn’t initiate matters. I wasn’t yet familiar with the “Would you like to go for a walk?” code (was it just mine?) for “May I please stick my tongue down your throat?” Anyway, I would never have had the guts.

But who cares how I got there. What was important was that I was there, walking nervously up Allington Road, NW4 with Ruth . . . stopping . . . and then having one of those “first time” sensations that I wouldn’t have again until the 26th of April 1992 (the day Leeds United won the football league championship for the first time in my adult life).

Ruth, you were more Marilyn Manson than Monroe. And you wore a “train track” brace on your teeth (not a huge turn-on for non-train enthusiasts). But, to this day, I thank you for that moment.

My mate (for argument’s sake let’s call him Danny . . . that’s his name), however, always having to go one (two in this case) better, didn’t allow me to indulge myself – and anybody else who would have listened (most wouldn’t, as they’d been there and done that long before) – in my champagne moment. On the following day, New Year’s Day 1984, he recounted how his filthy (I was dead jealous) fingers had visited the “holy of holies”. He recalls, to this day, how I made him feel like he’d committed a crime (I thought he had). Anyhow, my next challenge was set.

I seem to recall having a rather long barren patch thereafter (the memory of that evening likely kept me going), until the following New Year’s Eve, 1984, when I snogged Samantha. It was at a party in St. John’s Wood. A lot more upmarket. Rather like Samantha, in fact. Definitely more Monroe, this time.

That first week of 1985, in the dusky thickets of Hampstead Heath, Samantha helped me discover how one could have sex (or something that felt like it) fully clothed. And, later that same year, a golden one, I met Caroline, my first “girlfriend”, who taught me an awful lot more.

So, now you can perhaps understand my sentimentality for the English New Year’s Eve. Israel’s “Sylvester” (the fourth century Pope Saint celebrated on the 31st of December, apparently) ain’t quite the same.

Nor does getting a snog these days present quite the same challenge, or excitement. Especially not off a Tel Avivit, but that’s another story (that I’ll get to) . . .

Mr. Erdogan . . . you’re the Christmas turkey!

Turkey is known more for its kebabs (and the dubious sexual preferences and practices of its menfolk) than its national sense of humour. The recent utterances of Turkey’s Prime Minister, however, bear all the hallmarks of a comic genius.

In January, Recep Tayyip Erdogan, the leader of Turkey’s Islamic ruling party, suggested that Qassam rockets fired from Gaza don’t kill.

His latest one-liner is that Israel’s war against Hamas and its rockets constitutes “a serious crime against humanity”.

Mr. Erdogan is clearly trying to prove, single-handedly, that the origins of the North American slang turkey – “a stupid or inept person” (Concise Oxford Dictionary) – do not derive from the bird eaten on Christmas; because both Erdogan and his country, stuck in the Middle Eastern Middle Ages, know all too well about “serious crime[s] against humanity”.

Not even mentioning (as Turks themselves don’t) the Armenian genocide and ongoing persecution of the Kurds, Turkey is a serial violator of human rights (the reason for its delayed accession to the EU). Blacklisting, on political, religious and sexuality grounds, is commonplace, as is torture, even murder, at the hands of the police. “Denigrating Turkishness” is prohibited, and many journalists and intellectuals have been victims of violent attacks and even assassinations. Forced virginity-testing for females was only outlawed as recently as 2002.

I had shocking first-hand experience of the primitive, barbaric side (there is another) of Turkey in 2000, on my first ever visit to the country, for the UEFA Cup semi-final between Galatasaray and Leeds United. On the evening before the game (a matter of minutes after I had started walking back to my hotel), Leeds fans Christopher Loftus and Kevin Speight were viciously stabbed to death (Loftus was stabbed 17 times) in Taksim Square, in the heart of Istanbul, by a knife-wielding mob, following allegations that the Turkish flag had been “disrespected”. Even if true, a nation that values a piece of cloth over human life needs to undertake some serious self-analysis. (Some of the Turkish press even glorified the killings, one headlining “We made their heads kiss the ground of our motherland.” Nice.)

Istanbul is a fascinating city (I have been four times now, and even had my heart broken there). But the Ottoman Empire has long since faded, and venturing outside of the major cities is, by all accounts, like finding oneself on the set of some Middle Eastern Deliverance.

Despite being only sixty years’ old, and rising out of the ashes of the Holocaust rather than a vast Empire, Israel is light years ahead of Turkey in the democratic stakes, and in virtually every other way. She provides Turkey with major assistance, including humanitarian (IDF search and rescue teams were to the fore in the aftermath of the 1999 earthquake), military, and intelligence (the Mossad helps Turkey track down Al Qaeda operatives in the region).

Mr. Erdogan, friendship works both ways. And friends support each other at times of need. Perhaps it is hard for you to comprehend (not being written in your holy Koran), but a genuine Jewish friend is better than a criminal Muslim one. You wouldn’t want to share an Efes Pilsen (alcohol-free, of course) with a Hamas terrorist any more than a PKK one.

Gideon Levy: Neighborhood Inciter a Testament to Cast-Iron Democracy

For many in Israel, Gideon Levy is Public Enemy Number One. The journalist, and editorial board member, at the left-wing Haaretz newspaper never ceases to sicken and appall with his anti-“everything Zionist” writing.

His article, yesterday, The neighborhood bully [perverting the title of a pro-Israel Dylan song] strikes again – responding to the first day of Operation Cast Lead – was an excellent case in point.

I haven’t got the energy, or inclination, to dissect his unprofessionally one-sided and fallacious arguments (I won’t let melchett mike deteriorate into one of those tedious and dreary “mediawatch”-type blogs), but this man – of, at best, questionable, and, at worst, traitorous, motives – is a wonderful testament to the impressive democracy that has evolved in this country over a mere sixty years.

If Levy had been a “loony left” Palestinian living in Gaza – rather than an Israeli (residing, no doubt, in some swanky suburb of Tel Aviv) – he wouldn’t dare have written such things against Hamas or his people.

If he had, his testicles would have been put on public display at the Tate Modern, Gaza . . . though only after they had been removed by an epileptic Hamasnik wielding blunt preschool paper scissors, stuffed up his rear, and then sent to his family for identification.

Now, there’s an idea . . .

Airstrike on Gaza: Israel’s Right of Self-Defence

Here we go again.

On returning home from my jog on Tel Aviv beach, this morning, I turned on Sky News, only to be greeted by the sound of sirens and a hysterical (understandably) Palestinian giving an eyewitness account of events in Gaza. Israel had responded, finally, to the months of provocation from Hamas and its proxies, to the daily barrage of rockets fired at its civilian population. Eighty hit on Wednesday alone.

The sadly predictable emphasis of Sky‘s reporting was on the “fact” that the airstrikes came as Gaza’s children were leaving school (I would have liked school days finishing around 11 in the morning). I didn’t see any such intensive “Breaking News” flashes on Sky (or other networks) covering the daily barrages on Sderot or Ashkelon, or emphasizing the fact that, for months, Israeli children in the worst-affected areas have hardly seen the light of day, being forced to remain in shelters and reinforced rooms. Sadly, we have become accustomed to such uneven coverage, and most of us expect little more.

Israel’s actions, this morning, followed intense debate, both governmental and public, on how to best respond to this continuing, untenable situation. Even the doveish, left-wing intellectuals of Israel’s Meretz party called for military action on Thursday, something virtually unheard of. And the Egyptian Foreign Minister, too, has stated that Hamas had received enough warnings to put a stop to the rocket fire.

Now, the media will wheel out all the usual suspects – the “Pinters” (though, I expect, not Harold) and “Galloways” (I can dream, can’t I?!) – who will trot out the usual crap about the deliberate and indiscriminate targeting of women and children, and the disproportionate response of the “mighty Israel” (if you have, and are interested in challenging, such a notion, an interesting exercise involves taking a look at a map of the Middle East . . . and not one received from one of those Friends of Palestine-type “charities”, many of which are covers that would be more aptly named Give Your Hard-Earned Cash to Help Kill Israelis). From their silence during the bombardment of Israel, day in, day out, for months, are we to assume that they considered that legitimate?

Israel, in response, will have to mobilize its (usually hopeless) spokesmen to defend its actions.

If we can trust the latest pronouncements by Hamas, today’s death toll is high. And it is a tragedy that innocent people will, undoubtedly, have been killed. But, be in no doubt, Israel is in a permanent state of war with Hamas, a neighbouring “government” whose raison d’être is to destroy it. An inevitable consequence of every war is that innocents suffer. To buy into the inevitable Hamas (and general Arab) propaganda, that Israel deliberately and indiscriminately targeted innocent civilians, is for the dimwitted and/or those with their anti-Israel/America/Britain/Jewish/Christian/western/democratic (delete as appropriate . . . though you might choose to keep them all) agenda(s).

To Hamas, the blood of Palestinians is only a little less cheap than that of Israelis. And it has been playing Russian roulette with the lives of Gazans for far too long now. Of course, the leaders of Hamas won’t poke their grubby little heads above the parapet, any more than that coward Nasrallah did in Lebanon in 2006 (he spent the entire war in hiding). But Gazans are responsible for choosing those leaders or, at least, for allowing them to remain in office.

Anyway, it is all very depressing. I, for one, certainly don’t rejoice in the bloodshed or jingoistic notions of revenge.

And it is weird, too – I am writing this on my laptop in a Tel Aviv café, struggling to concentrate through all the loud conversation and laughter (Israelis are a noisy bunch), when less than 45 miles down the Mediterranean coast there is death and destruction.

One thing is for sure, though – neither the British government or public, nor any other, would have tolerated such a situation on its border for so long. That Israel has done so is testament to its democracy, humanity and ethics (even in spite of Wednesday’s eighty rockets, Israel reopened crossings into Gaza on Thursday, to alleviate its worsening humanitarian situation).

That I should even have to write all of this is an indication of the different standards by which the world judges and treats Israel – as I always say (and this one’s mine): like Israelis and their tea, the world doesn’t like its Jews strong.

Unlike seventy years ago, however, we can defend ourselves now. And we will.

Death of Harold Pinter: One Less Uncomfortable Jew

I, for one, won’t be spending a second mourning the death of Harold Pinter, the English Nobel Laureate playwright, who died of cancer on Wednesday, aged 78.

Pinter, a Hackney-born Jew, was an outspoken critic of Israel, quoted as saying that “Israel’s injustice to the Palestinians is an outrage” and “the central factor in world unrest”. He championed Israeli traitor Mordechai Vanunu, and signed a boycott of Israeli products and tourism.

Pinter liked to portray himself as an original thinker and critic of accepted ideas, but, to my mind, he was anything but. A Jew by birth and no more, Pinter was a puppet of the trendy, Israel-loathing, intellectual left, who was happy to use his birthright and fame – and to be used – to inflict maximum PR damage on Israel and, as a consequence, on Jews the world over.

If Pinter, or any of his fellow signatories to Jews for Justice for Palestinians and Independent Jewish Voices, would have spoken out against Palestinian terror outrages, called for an end to the perpetual bombardment of Israeli towns, and for the release of abducted Israeli soldier Gilad Shalit, with the same vigour and intensity that they have criticised conditions in Gaza (which the Palestinians have, to a large extent, brought upon themselves), one might have taken him and them more seriously.

To label Pinter and his ilk self-hating Jews is not to say that they are Jew-haters. There is a difference. They are Jews, clearly so uncomfortable in their own skins, that they continually go out of the way to be accepted by the non-Jewish “Establishment”. To prove to anybody who will listen that they are “not like all the others” (and not represented by the Board of Deputies of British Jews and the Chief Rabbi). That they are different. Better even.

And, as a Jew who could not be prouder of his heritage, of which the State of Israel is an intrinsic part, they have always sickened me to the very core (I belong to a third, hybrid category, if you like: self-hating Jew haters). These Jews do more damage to their own than the Ken Livingstones and George Galloways of this world ever could.

Moreover, Pinter’s rabble-rousing diatribes against the US (“a bloodthirsty wild animal”), its administration (“a bunch of criminal lunatics”), and George W. Bush (“a mass murderer”) – and even against his own Britain (“pathetic and supine”) and Tony Blair (“a deluded idiot” and “hired Christian thug”) – were far from what one would expect from a winner of the Nobel Prize in Literature, and rather more akin to the crude rantings of an East End barrow-boy.

Pinter’s widow, Lady Antonia Fraser, has said “He will never be forgotten.”

He will be by me.