Primitive revenge
by David Verveer
How utterly stupid and senseless was the execution of Saddam Hussein, I am saying this not because I am against capital punishment, which is a primitive declaration of revenge, but the logic behind it. When they killed the monster, he stopped suffering and stopped feeling, or in other words, they relieved him of his punishment for his crimes. He went to his death, believing that he was the Arab hero, fighting the infidels, one of the most wanted situations in the Moslems world, dying a martyr.
This reminds me of the joke, where a boy was kicked out of the class room, because farting. He was standing in the corridor laughing loudly. Somebody passed by and asked the boy, what is so funny? He said, I farted, and was sent out of the class room, but they remained with the odor.
Executing Saddam is precisely the same stupidity, instead of making him suffer, like his victims did, they freed him by killing him and at the same time made him a martyr and gave those idiots, some more excuses to kill and ruin the original garden of Eve, and why, only for a primitive desire to revenge. How can we ever claim, that we are more intelligent than animals, who do not kill for the fun of it, is beyond my comprehension.
But I will cease protesting, as somebody would think that I care about the death of this beast, and claim his innocence, just the opposite, I tell you, he was not punished enough, and treated like an human, a title, he lost many years ago.
Saturday, December 30, 2006
Friday, December 22, 2006
honor your heroes
Honor your heroes!
By David Verveer
We, Israelis, do not know how to honor our living heroes. Our dead heroes are celebrated and beatified, but only after they departed from this world. For example, look how we treat Retired Colonel Elhanan Tennenbaum, who risked his own life and precautious health, by voluntary entering an hostile country, in order to promote a drug deal (with operators in Dubai), but was kidnapped by the Hezbollah. Would he have succeeded in his business, he would have paid off his gambling debs and would have promoted the sale of cheaper drugs in Israel (an important advantage for young drug users, which have difficulty paying the expensive drug use).
But all this did not happen, as poor Elhanan was kidnapped by those bad boys and kept in confinement (three years, guilty only of embezzlement, drug dealing, betrayal and other irrelevant micro-crimes) by the Hezbollah. The Hezbollah tried to break Elhanan down, in order to betray Israel’s secrets, but apparently, Elhanan did not know sufficiently, in order to satisfy his captors, and his only remaining value was the prisoner swab card. And indeed, as Israel does not leave his courageous soldiers in the hands of the enemy, and specially not high ranking retired Colonels, somehow relate to the ruling class of our society, he was exchanged, together with three dead soldiers for 436 Arab prisoners, plus a German spy.
436 Arab prisoners imprisonment cost is estimated at least 1,300 dollar per capita / yearly or in other words, worth more than 500,000 U.S. dollars per year or in 3 years (average remaining prison time) – 1,500,000 U.S. dollars. Our hero Elhanan saved this expense for you, the Israeli tax payer, with his unselfish and courageous behavior, and for this, he should be praised, but no, we ignore the poor fellow, we make fun of his former precautious health, which, thank the Lord, has remarkably and surprisingly improved, after his return to us.
I am happy to notice that the Government treats Elhanan much better than the media, which was demonstrated recently, when Elhanan admitted that he tried to arrange an international drug deal, and our court declined to charge him for International crimes, as they had reached an agreement not to process his alleged crimes. Imagine, the Government breaking their promise to a guilty (by admission), drug dealer! Who would be prepared to assist in catching real criminals (such as tax offenders, illegal workers, elderly people not paying their taxes, etc.).
Elhanan is only one example of many, silent heroes, trying to do their duty to the nation, without expecting any payment for their sacrifice (did I mention, that Israel paid a pension to Elhanan’s family, during his imprisonment in Lebanon?).
By David Verveer
We, Israelis, do not know how to honor our living heroes. Our dead heroes are celebrated and beatified, but only after they departed from this world. For example, look how we treat Retired Colonel Elhanan Tennenbaum, who risked his own life and precautious health, by voluntary entering an hostile country, in order to promote a drug deal (with operators in Dubai), but was kidnapped by the Hezbollah. Would he have succeeded in his business, he would have paid off his gambling debs and would have promoted the sale of cheaper drugs in Israel (an important advantage for young drug users, which have difficulty paying the expensive drug use).
But all this did not happen, as poor Elhanan was kidnapped by those bad boys and kept in confinement (three years, guilty only of embezzlement, drug dealing, betrayal and other irrelevant micro-crimes) by the Hezbollah. The Hezbollah tried to break Elhanan down, in order to betray Israel’s secrets, but apparently, Elhanan did not know sufficiently, in order to satisfy his captors, and his only remaining value was the prisoner swab card. And indeed, as Israel does not leave his courageous soldiers in the hands of the enemy, and specially not high ranking retired Colonels, somehow relate to the ruling class of our society, he was exchanged, together with three dead soldiers for 436 Arab prisoners, plus a German spy.
436 Arab prisoners imprisonment cost is estimated at least 1,300 dollar per capita / yearly or in other words, worth more than 500,000 U.S. dollars per year or in 3 years (average remaining prison time) – 1,500,000 U.S. dollars. Our hero Elhanan saved this expense for you, the Israeli tax payer, with his unselfish and courageous behavior, and for this, he should be praised, but no, we ignore the poor fellow, we make fun of his former precautious health, which, thank the Lord, has remarkably and surprisingly improved, after his return to us.
I am happy to notice that the Government treats Elhanan much better than the media, which was demonstrated recently, when Elhanan admitted that he tried to arrange an international drug deal, and our court declined to charge him for International crimes, as they had reached an agreement not to process his alleged crimes. Imagine, the Government breaking their promise to a guilty (by admission), drug dealer! Who would be prepared to assist in catching real criminals (such as tax offenders, illegal workers, elderly people not paying their taxes, etc.).
Elhanan is only one example of many, silent heroes, trying to do their duty to the nation, without expecting any payment for their sacrifice (did I mention, that Israel paid a pension to Elhanan’s family, during his imprisonment in Lebanon?).
Monday, December 11, 2006
voor mij bestaat hij niet
Ik heb er genoeg van, ik geloof er niets meer van, allemaal leugens, hij bestaat niet, ik heb hem zijn laatste kans gegeven, maar niets gebeurde, en nu heb ik er genoeg van, Sinterklaas bestaat niet!
Toen ik klein was, had ik van die zogenaamde intelligente vrienden die mij in geheim vertelde, dat Sinterklaas niet bestaat, maar ik geloofde hun niet, zelfs toen ze me vertelde, dat Sinterklaas geen cadeautjes brengt aan Joodse kinderen, en inderdaad, elke 5de December (ik ben niet zeker of het de nacht tussen de 4de en 5de December, of de volgende nacht), bracht de zogenaamde heilige man, cadeautjes, des al niet te min, ik Joods ben. Hoe kon ik toen weten dat mijn moeder, die meestal erg veel van de waarheid hield, mij bedroog met mij te vertellen dat Sinterklaas, die pakketjes had gebracht, in het midden van de nacht, in de stromende regen en koude, heeft die oude man, op zijn schimmel, mij en mijn broers en zus, verrast met speelgoed en snoep (chocolade letters, speculaas poppen, borst-plaat en zo voort.).
Toen ik ouder werd en niet meer in Nederland woonde (in Engeland van mijn 15de tot mijn 19de verjaardag), kreeg ik pakketjes uit Holland, van mijn moeder, die schreef dat Sinterklaas voor mij deze cadeautjes had gebracht, en ik geloofde haar, want ik zag geen enkele reden voor een leugen, vooral niet van mijn moeder, die altijd gelijk had.
Toen immigreerde ik naar Israël en een pionier werd (in de woestijn), en begreep ik dat onze lieve Sint niet naar een kibboets in de woestijn kon komen voor mij alleen, dus alleen, zonder peper noten, zat ik voor twee nachten buiten, met heimwee naar het verleden dat nooit meer terug komt.
Gedurende de jaren die daar op volgden, werd mijn herinnering van de goede Sint steeds vager, en ging de 5 December voorbij, zonder dat ik aan hem dacht, tot men de Internet schiep (het verleden van schapen, niet die wollige beestjes, maar hokus-pokus), en toen mij elke morgen met Hollandse kranten, mij terug bracht naar het sinterklaas festiviteiten.
Nu dat ik volwassen ben, begrijp ik niet waarom de knecht (of moet ik nu, “eerste assistent” zeggen) van Sinterklaas is een Afrikaanse (of Surinaamse) zwart gekleurde allochtoon , waarom kan de goede Sint niet met een vol bloed Nederlander (of uit de Europese Unie) werken, of bijvoorbeeld een Joodse Witte Piet, waarom niet, zelfs de Paus heeft gezegd dat de Joden, Jezus niet hebben gekruisigd, maar ik had het over mijn persoonlijke relatie met de (schijn)heilige man, en niet over discriminatie in Nederland.
Zoals ik al zei, toen ik door de kranten weer terug in de Sinterklaas atmosfeer terug kwam, besloot ik hem een laatste kans te geven, en als hij deze keer weer niet reageert, hij voor mij passé is, voor altijd, uit punt.
Hier in Israël is het niet koud genoeg voor schoorsteen kachels, dus hebben we geen schoorstenen, verder kousen (lange) gebruiken we ook niet, en dragen we alleen maar sokken (en daar kan niet veel in, speciaal die stretch sokken van vandaag), dus wat moet ik waar ophangen, dat die schlemiel van een Piet, aan de Sint kan vertellen, dat er nog een adres is, waar zijn cadeautjes worden verwacht?
Maar ik ben niet lui, en na een beetje planning, heb ik een twintig tal bakstenen gekocht, en daarmee een imitatie schoorsteen gebouwd, en in plaats van kousen, mijn vrouw haar nylon kousen opgehangen, met erin een duidelijk lijstje van mijn verzoeken (in Engels, Nederlands en Hebreeuws, je kan nooit weten) , en op Sint's nacht, nadat ik Sinterklaas kapoentje, Zie ginds komt de stoomboot uit Spanje weer aan, en voor de zekerheid ook, wie Neerlands bloed ineen potje doet, had gezongen, ging ik naar bed (ik had natuurlijk het raam open gelaten, anders hoe komt hij er in).
De morgen kwam, ik rende naar mijn vrouw, haar kous, maar nee hoor, hij heeft de laatste kans aan hem voorbij laten gaan, en ik had geen overdreven verlanglijstje, ik wou alleen maar vrede hebben, en een adres in Israël waar ik Gelderse Rookworst kon kopen, dat is niet overdreven, niet waar?
Dus voor mij, Sinterklaas is uit en Hanukaklaus in, (Hanuka valt dit jaar in de laatste week van December, 8 dagen lang). Mij zullen jullie niet meer horen zingen over die vent uit Spanje, en zijn huppelende paard. Ik zing nu uit volle borst:
Hanuka klaus kapoentje, gooi wat in mijn schoentje, de rest ben ik vergeten.
Luitjes al de beste wensen voor een geweldig nieuw jaar, zalig uiteinde, gezondheid, vrede, en een goede hoeveelheid van plezier en geluk, lachen is altijd beter dan huilen.
Toen ik klein was, had ik van die zogenaamde intelligente vrienden die mij in geheim vertelde, dat Sinterklaas niet bestaat, maar ik geloofde hun niet, zelfs toen ze me vertelde, dat Sinterklaas geen cadeautjes brengt aan Joodse kinderen, en inderdaad, elke 5de December (ik ben niet zeker of het de nacht tussen de 4de en 5de December, of de volgende nacht), bracht de zogenaamde heilige man, cadeautjes, des al niet te min, ik Joods ben. Hoe kon ik toen weten dat mijn moeder, die meestal erg veel van de waarheid hield, mij bedroog met mij te vertellen dat Sinterklaas, die pakketjes had gebracht, in het midden van de nacht, in de stromende regen en koude, heeft die oude man, op zijn schimmel, mij en mijn broers en zus, verrast met speelgoed en snoep (chocolade letters, speculaas poppen, borst-plaat en zo voort.).
Toen ik ouder werd en niet meer in Nederland woonde (in Engeland van mijn 15de tot mijn 19de verjaardag), kreeg ik pakketjes uit Holland, van mijn moeder, die schreef dat Sinterklaas voor mij deze cadeautjes had gebracht, en ik geloofde haar, want ik zag geen enkele reden voor een leugen, vooral niet van mijn moeder, die altijd gelijk had.
Toen immigreerde ik naar Israël en een pionier werd (in de woestijn), en begreep ik dat onze lieve Sint niet naar een kibboets in de woestijn kon komen voor mij alleen, dus alleen, zonder peper noten, zat ik voor twee nachten buiten, met heimwee naar het verleden dat nooit meer terug komt.
Gedurende de jaren die daar op volgden, werd mijn herinnering van de goede Sint steeds vager, en ging de 5 December voorbij, zonder dat ik aan hem dacht, tot men de Internet schiep (het verleden van schapen, niet die wollige beestjes, maar hokus-pokus), en toen mij elke morgen met Hollandse kranten, mij terug bracht naar het sinterklaas festiviteiten.
Nu dat ik volwassen ben, begrijp ik niet waarom de knecht (of moet ik nu, “eerste assistent” zeggen) van Sinterklaas is een Afrikaanse (of Surinaamse) zwart gekleurde allochtoon , waarom kan de goede Sint niet met een vol bloed Nederlander (of uit de Europese Unie) werken, of bijvoorbeeld een Joodse Witte Piet, waarom niet, zelfs de Paus heeft gezegd dat de Joden, Jezus niet hebben gekruisigd, maar ik had het over mijn persoonlijke relatie met de (schijn)heilige man, en niet over discriminatie in Nederland.
Zoals ik al zei, toen ik door de kranten weer terug in de Sinterklaas atmosfeer terug kwam, besloot ik hem een laatste kans te geven, en als hij deze keer weer niet reageert, hij voor mij passé is, voor altijd, uit punt.
Hier in Israël is het niet koud genoeg voor schoorsteen kachels, dus hebben we geen schoorstenen, verder kousen (lange) gebruiken we ook niet, en dragen we alleen maar sokken (en daar kan niet veel in, speciaal die stretch sokken van vandaag), dus wat moet ik waar ophangen, dat die schlemiel van een Piet, aan de Sint kan vertellen, dat er nog een adres is, waar zijn cadeautjes worden verwacht?
Maar ik ben niet lui, en na een beetje planning, heb ik een twintig tal bakstenen gekocht, en daarmee een imitatie schoorsteen gebouwd, en in plaats van kousen, mijn vrouw haar nylon kousen opgehangen, met erin een duidelijk lijstje van mijn verzoeken (in Engels, Nederlands en Hebreeuws, je kan nooit weten) , en op Sint's nacht, nadat ik Sinterklaas kapoentje, Zie ginds komt de stoomboot uit Spanje weer aan, en voor de zekerheid ook, wie Neerlands bloed ineen potje doet, had gezongen, ging ik naar bed (ik had natuurlijk het raam open gelaten, anders hoe komt hij er in).
De morgen kwam, ik rende naar mijn vrouw, haar kous, maar nee hoor, hij heeft de laatste kans aan hem voorbij laten gaan, en ik had geen overdreven verlanglijstje, ik wou alleen maar vrede hebben, en een adres in Israël waar ik Gelderse Rookworst kon kopen, dat is niet overdreven, niet waar?
Dus voor mij, Sinterklaas is uit en Hanukaklaus in, (Hanuka valt dit jaar in de laatste week van December, 8 dagen lang). Mij zullen jullie niet meer horen zingen over die vent uit Spanje, en zijn huppelende paard. Ik zing nu uit volle borst:
Hanuka klaus kapoentje, gooi wat in mijn schoentje, de rest ben ik vergeten.
Luitjes al de beste wensen voor een geweldig nieuw jaar, zalig uiteinde, gezondheid, vrede, en een goede hoeveelheid van plezier en geluk, lachen is altijd beter dan huilen.
Sunday, December 10, 2006
commemorating Beni Sela's flight
Commemorating Beni Sela’s flight
By David Verveer
In an example of rare cooperation of several Governmental Offices, The Third Secretary of the Ministry of the vice Assistant Prime Minister of Israel and Jewish colonies anywhere, announced yesterday at an hasty assembled Press conference, that several Government offices were found willing to give their full hearted support to arrange an Audio Visual Exhibition of the “Beni Sela flight for freedom”, which came to a sudden and drastic end, when Beni, tired and hungry, allowed the courageous police force to capture him, after having tasted freedom for more than 15 days.
The exhibition, which can be seen in the lobby of the Tel Aviv Court of Justice, the site were it all started, will have loop recordings of the flight (included the reconstructed educational first stage of the flight, played by the handcuffed policeman, managing to climb the wall and disappear just as Beni Sela himself (we hope this policeman realizes his potentials as filmstar). Of course, the file, which Sela claimed to have forgotten, which was recovered by the intelligent policeman, thus allowing Sela to escape, can be seen, together with the handcuffs (slightly damaged ) and the foot chains, which were recovered later in the Prison stores, and look like new (never used).
An other important exhibit will be the bicycle stolen by Sela, during his Sharon epoch. Fascinating is the exhibit of the tap, from which Sela drunk, and the bundle of sacks, on which he rested his tired limbs.
An highlight is of course the photo taken by the security guard at Kibbutz Kinneret, showing Sela sitting in a stolen car waiting to enter the kibbutz.
The girl which was questioned by Sela in the kibbutz, which made her famous country wide, explains in a video recorded, her memories of the meeting.
If I understand correctly, the shower hat, at the home of Sela’s relatives in the northern town of Nesher, used by Sela, on the last day of the flight, will be bought for a considerable sum, by the Ministry of Internal Security, in order to show their involvement in the capture.
The civil guards which finally tied up Sela, after he exhausted gave up the fight, can be seen in a mocked up demonstration, hitting Sela, when safely bound.
In the last phase of the exhibition, one can see a list of police and prison personnel of all ranks, responsible of finally safeguarding the public of the menace called Sela, and an early estimate on how much this escape has cost the tax payer.
We think this exhibition is a must for school children and students, in order to teach an essential part of citizenship, and show them the high cost we civilian pays for internal security.
The suggestion of having a yearly Sela flight memorial day on the 8th of December is by all means, extremely educational, and should be combined with an annual open day at Israel’s prisons.
By David Verveer
In an example of rare cooperation of several Governmental Offices, The Third Secretary of the Ministry of the vice Assistant Prime Minister of Israel and Jewish colonies anywhere, announced yesterday at an hasty assembled Press conference, that several Government offices were found willing to give their full hearted support to arrange an Audio Visual Exhibition of the “Beni Sela flight for freedom”, which came to a sudden and drastic end, when Beni, tired and hungry, allowed the courageous police force to capture him, after having tasted freedom for more than 15 days.
The exhibition, which can be seen in the lobby of the Tel Aviv Court of Justice, the site were it all started, will have loop recordings of the flight (included the reconstructed educational first stage of the flight, played by the handcuffed policeman, managing to climb the wall and disappear just as Beni Sela himself (we hope this policeman realizes his potentials as filmstar). Of course, the file, which Sela claimed to have forgotten, which was recovered by the intelligent policeman, thus allowing Sela to escape, can be seen, together with the handcuffs (slightly damaged ) and the foot chains, which were recovered later in the Prison stores, and look like new (never used).
An other important exhibit will be the bicycle stolen by Sela, during his Sharon epoch. Fascinating is the exhibit of the tap, from which Sela drunk, and the bundle of sacks, on which he rested his tired limbs.
An highlight is of course the photo taken by the security guard at Kibbutz Kinneret, showing Sela sitting in a stolen car waiting to enter the kibbutz.
The girl which was questioned by Sela in the kibbutz, which made her famous country wide, explains in a video recorded, her memories of the meeting.
If I understand correctly, the shower hat, at the home of Sela’s relatives in the northern town of Nesher, used by Sela, on the last day of the flight, will be bought for a considerable sum, by the Ministry of Internal Security, in order to show their involvement in the capture.
The civil guards which finally tied up Sela, after he exhausted gave up the fight, can be seen in a mocked up demonstration, hitting Sela, when safely bound.
In the last phase of the exhibition, one can see a list of police and prison personnel of all ranks, responsible of finally safeguarding the public of the menace called Sela, and an early estimate on how much this escape has cost the tax payer.
We think this exhibition is a must for school children and students, in order to teach an essential part of citizenship, and show them the high cost we civilian pays for internal security.
The suggestion of having a yearly Sela flight memorial day on the 8th of December is by all means, extremely educational, and should be combined with an annual open day at Israel’s prisons.
Wednesday, December 6, 2006
forbidden knowledge
Dear Mrs. Tamir, since when, we teach historical truth?
By David Verveer
It is a terrible mistake to allow Israeli children to learn their history, by revealing to them that our armies, in our glorious war of independence did not manage to conquer the entire territory, promised to us by ”G-d” himself, but had to agree to an cease fire agreement, which left the Yehuda, Shomron, the Golan and the Gaza Strip outside Israel.
Such information, even though, part of our recent history, will give our children the comprehension why our enemies make claims that the West Bank, etc. are occupied territories, and question the legality of settlements outside this blasted green line. Such information is dangerous and leads to far fetched demands of justice, such as, return to the old armistice lines, as was agreed in ’48 and recognized by the World.
Instead of teaching our kids real history, we could teach more fiction on the mighty Jewish empire during the period of King Salomon, as base for conquering some more territories, so that our people could return to their historical birth rights.
Historical facts are irrelevant, as history is written by reporters and outsiders, for example, the fictional story we teach our children about the so-called heroes at the Masada, (not to mention stories of the recent past).
The DNA of our Palestinian enemies have many similarities to DNA of our settler brothers, could it be that our historical claims are shared by Palestinian descendants of the lost tribes, who did not disappear, but stayed put, while our ancestors went abroad, to look for a better life?
Of course, DNA is no proof what so ever, we accept Jews from India with a DNA which has no similarities to those of Jews, but are converted by Orthodox Rabbis, but reject DNA cousins forcefully converted to Islam, as our enemies, even though, they continued to live in a land, that was promised to their offspring too (irrelevant to what their religious beliefs would be).
I think the Settlers, together with the Rabbinical Council should prepare a list of historical facts not to be told to our children, a type of black list, and every book which mentions those forbidden information should be burned at the main town square, in a suitable ceremony, accompanied with prayer and dancing zealots. Children, which by accident, learned about the Green Line, should be sent to camps to be reeducated. Teachers who, even though, strictly forbidden, teach this dangerous and forbidden material, should be sent to guard the settlements, and go with the courageous settlers, harvesting olives in the by Palestinian occupied orchards.
I don’t know what happened to us, tomorrow, those socialists will start teaching the evolution of Darwin, and tell us that we are descendants of monkeys or pigs.
By David Verveer
It is a terrible mistake to allow Israeli children to learn their history, by revealing to them that our armies, in our glorious war of independence did not manage to conquer the entire territory, promised to us by ”G-d” himself, but had to agree to an cease fire agreement, which left the Yehuda, Shomron, the Golan and the Gaza Strip outside Israel.
Such information, even though, part of our recent history, will give our children the comprehension why our enemies make claims that the West Bank, etc. are occupied territories, and question the legality of settlements outside this blasted green line. Such information is dangerous and leads to far fetched demands of justice, such as, return to the old armistice lines, as was agreed in ’48 and recognized by the World.
Instead of teaching our kids real history, we could teach more fiction on the mighty Jewish empire during the period of King Salomon, as base for conquering some more territories, so that our people could return to their historical birth rights.
Historical facts are irrelevant, as history is written by reporters and outsiders, for example, the fictional story we teach our children about the so-called heroes at the Masada, (not to mention stories of the recent past).
The DNA of our Palestinian enemies have many similarities to DNA of our settler brothers, could it be that our historical claims are shared by Palestinian descendants of the lost tribes, who did not disappear, but stayed put, while our ancestors went abroad, to look for a better life?
Of course, DNA is no proof what so ever, we accept Jews from India with a DNA which has no similarities to those of Jews, but are converted by Orthodox Rabbis, but reject DNA cousins forcefully converted to Islam, as our enemies, even though, they continued to live in a land, that was promised to their offspring too (irrelevant to what their religious beliefs would be).
I think the Settlers, together with the Rabbinical Council should prepare a list of historical facts not to be told to our children, a type of black list, and every book which mentions those forbidden information should be burned at the main town square, in a suitable ceremony, accompanied with prayer and dancing zealots. Children, which by accident, learned about the Green Line, should be sent to camps to be reeducated. Teachers who, even though, strictly forbidden, teach this dangerous and forbidden material, should be sent to guard the settlements, and go with the courageous settlers, harvesting olives in the by Palestinian occupied orchards.
I don’t know what happened to us, tomorrow, those socialists will start teaching the evolution of Darwin, and tell us that we are descendants of monkeys or pigs.
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