The JackB

"When you're in jail, a good friend will be trying to bail you out. A best friend will be in the cell next to you saying, 'Damn, that was fun'." Groucho Marx

Archives for January 2009

War- What is it Good For

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Forgive me for using an antiwar lyric for a war I supported, it just seemed fitting. Fitting because like so many others I have been trying to determine what was accomplished. What sort of benefits have been derived by three weeks or so of bloodshed.

We can start with the obvious and ask if Israel was truly able to stop the rockets and re-establish some deterrence. Have they put the fear of God into Hamas and made them rethink their positions on little things like not recognizing the state. Was Gilad Shalit rescued and returned from what Seraphic Secret rightfully calls cruel captivity.

There is an obvious answer to the question of what happened to Gilad. The answer is that he has not yet been rescued and that there have been reports that he was killed by Israeli artillery fire. Until proven otherwise I refuse to accept this as anything more than Hamas propaganda designed and intended to demoralize.

But I will again add my voice to the chorus of those who find it unacceptable that he is still in captivity.

As for whether deterrence has been established, well that is a question that we can’t answer overnight. I tend to adopt a similar position to Yaacov Lozowick who says

“Now we’ve got to wait till the morning after the morning after (I liked Thomas Friedman’s formulation) to see if Hamas has reached a stage similar to the one Hezbullah reached the morning after their morning after their “victory” in 2006. If this morning’s rockets cause no casualties and cease by the afternoon, not to be renewed for years, that’s fine. If they continue, however, even if only in a drizzle, we have to keep on hitting, inaugural parties in Washington or not.”

He is correct. If the rockets continue Israel needs to resume pounding them.

Back on the topic of identifying accomplishments from the war it is also clear that the war provided antisemites from around the world with another excuse to commit barbaric and hateful acts of their own. Just look at this post from Zombietime for a list of events in the global intifada.

In a side note to my Israeli family and friends, this is why you sometimes hear from us about having a voice in what happens. My personal perspective is that I prefer to have the bigots out in the open. I’d rather know exactly who I am dealing with. Not to mention that the sort of scum bag that engages in this behavior would do so regardless of what Israel does. But this does serve as a sort of beard for his/her behavior.

The war made it apparent that we need to work harder on educating the ignorant masses about international law, moral relativism and what disproportionate force means. We also need to be cognizant of how many people are choosing to question Israel’s existence. It used to be that we heard discussions about occupied territory and we knew that part of Israel was being discussed. Now the tune is changing and we’re having more talk about the entire state.

Don’t believe me or want a source for this. Go read this post and report back to me. In the meantime here is are links to all of the roundup and some more posts to read:

1* 2 *3* 3.5* 4* 4.5* 5* 5.5* 6*6.5 *7* 7.5* 8* 8.5.*9, *9.5, *10, *10.5, *11, *11.5, *12, *12.5, *13, *13.5, *14, *14.5, *15, *16, *17, *18, *18.5, *19 and ceasefire edition.

From the traditional media:

CNN: Bodies dug from rubble during Gaza cease-fire (Who else was in there.)
CNN: Hamas, Israel set independent cease-fires
NY Times: Rebuilding Begins Upon a Wobbly Truce
The Spine: Reviving the Oldest Hatred
WSJ: Defeating Terrorists (Sometimes force works)
Boston.com: The violence network
JPost: Yadlin: Hamas likely to keep attacking
JPost: Analysis: The operation is over but the war continues
JPost: Analysis: Europe’s plea for peace ignores the Gaza reality
Mark Steyn: Jew-baiting, then and now

From the blogosphere:

Yaacov Lozowick’s Inventing Your Own Reality.
Omri says CAIR: Complaining About The Anti-Semitic Attacks We’re Inciting Is A “Distraction”
EOZ: I must be much dumber than Olmert
Solomonia: Big Gas Field Discovered Off Haifa
Solomonia: The MSM is the Enemy
Soccer Dad: Report from the front
Soccer Dad: Shiny happy dhimmi – #9

Crossposted on Yourish.

Instant Messenger

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(A new piece for Fragments of Fiction)

Can’t remember the last time I signed into the good old Instant Messenger and there you were. I wondered if it was a sign or just coincidence.

Anne Stacey. There you were. A little picture of your smiling face flashed up at me and I smiled back. For a moment I just stopped and stared. Watched and wondered what to do. You told me to give you some space and I had done that. But the truth for both of us is/was that space is a funny term.

Throughout the years there have been a few brief moments where we felt that we needed some time away from each other. Moments of anger and or frustration. Moments of confusion when we tried to catch our breath and figure it all out. But throughout it all we always found that it was impossible to completely forget the existence of the other.

It is a hard thing to explain, but we always feel better when we allow the contact. And when we are separated intentionally or otherwise we have a tendency to seek the little things that connect us. There is a comfort in those things. We passed the point many years ago when we could truly say that we were all by ourselves. Now the connection is always there.

Most of the time it is a wonderful thing. Most of the time it is an incredible feeling to know that the missing piece to the puzzle is not just out there, but identified and recognizable.

Most of the time we find ourselves smiling and secure in the knowledge that our best friend is our greatest love and truly the star we follow in the dark night. But sometimes it is hard. Sometimes it is painful to accep that the person we wish most to be with is separated from us.

Sometimes we compensate for the pain and frustration by coming up with reasons why we are angry with the other. Sometimes we fuel the fire with imaginary hurts and slights and or make lists of all of the reasons why it cannot work. Sometimes we run from the truth because it is too painful to accept.

There are those who suggest that sometimes love isn’t enough. There are those who say that the best thing you can do is just accept this and move on. But you know that I have never been one to just accept these things. I push and pull. I tug and shove and bang and knock. Tell me no and watch me prove you wrong.

Ok, so not everything is possible. I can’t fly and I can’t stop time. But if it was possible to do so than you know that I would. If it was possible to alter the good old space-time continuum for my Anne Stacey I would. But even though I cannot it doesn’t mean that the future is an impossibility.

I don’t allow myself to be constrained by purely linear thinking. I don’t live based upon what can’t happen, but upon what can and what could be. I am not Don Quixote attacking windmills, but if I did it is a certainty that the windmill would fall.

That is the power of the certainty of a deep and mature love. It fuels a fire that burns bright and deep. It powers an engine that has the strength to push through slings and arrows. I suppose that we could continue this line and ride some sort of cliche filled story where I woo you by using math and science. You know, talk about how there is a new element to add to the 106 in the periodic table. Or compose some sort of word problem that illustrated in math terms the proof of our love.

We’ll save that for a different day. Instead we’ll circle back to the moment that inspired the note. The completely unexpected appearance of your picture in my instant messenger box. It caught me off guard. I was unprepared to see your smile and the sparkle in your eyes. It was a pleasant surprise and I am sure that you’d be pleased to know that after all this time the flames inside are still smoldering. It wouldn’t take much to start a full blown fire.

But I refused to give into the urge to contact you. I refused because you asked for space and I intend to give it. Besides the hopeless romantic that lives inside believes that something will happen. There will be a moment, an incident, a something that makes you reach out to me and ask me to help. And that is key.

That moment is going to be part of a number of events that help everything fall into place. It is the keystone in the arch. Or maybe it is just the fantasy and burning desire of a dreamer who believes that our potential doesn’t have to go unrealized.

I can say one thing without hesitation. Everyone should experience the kind of love where a thought and a smile provides a charge that makes your entire body tingle. A charge that makes you close your eyes and bathe in the thoughts and memories of what was and what will be. The memory of your scent is intoxicating.

More than this I dare not say or write.

A Bag of Mixed Nuts

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The weekend comes and the weekend goes and the earth keeps turning. So many thoughts and so many stories come and go through my head. These War in Gaza updates were, are important but I miss being able to focus on my writing. Now with the faux ceasefire I’ll grab a few minutes here and there to try and spin a yarn or two.

The man I call abba is spending a few days away from home. It seems that the docs need to keep him in house for a spell to take of a few things. At the moment all seems well but I’d be lying if I said that I wasn’t somewhat concerned. Told him that if he wanted to take a vacation there are better ways of doing it and places that are far more fun.

All sorts of work to be done around the house. There is painting to be done, gates to be fixed, things to be sorted through and attended to. I love my home, but there are moments where I miss the simplicity of the condo we lived in. Although if you really want to know I miss my first apartment the most.

It was in Encino just a hair south of Ventura Boulevard. It was an old building that had a bunch of issues, but it had a ton of a character. Just one bedroom, but it was all mine. It was a sanctuary and a refuge. It was filled with ugly furniture and god-awful wood paneling. The place was hot as hell during the summer and really cold in the winter, but it was mine.

Dishes in the sink, clothes on the floor, shoes in the middle of the room- all mine. Now just to be clear that wasn’t how I kept it. The clutter would have made me crazy. But there were a few times when I stumbled in after being out for a few days and was too tired to do much. No roommates to be pissed off at or to be irritated with me. No children to play role model for. So every now and then I’d just enjoy the freedom of not worrying about anything.

Had a crazy neighbor downstairs and several scattered around the building. We lived in a corner of the building so my apartment and the couple next to me both occupied a little space right about the crazy neighbor below.

The couple that lived on one side of me would have sex every night for hours. The squeaking of their bed never stopped. Crazy neighbor that lived directly below me used to go nuts about it. She was convinced that it was me. Most nights she’d take a broom or something and pound on my ceiling. That was in addition to complaining to whomever would listen that all I would do was have sex all night long.

Tried to convince her that it wasn’t me, but she never did believe me. I once asked her if she’d be willing to talk about it on camera. I figured that since I was single I might as well make use of it. For some odd reason she was irritated by that.

There are a lot of other stories tied into that building that I could and probably should share, but for now I’ll let it be.

Funny though how your memory works. That feels like it was yesterday, but when I think about it I realize that it might as well have been a thousand years ago. So much has happened since then.

Someone once told me that they used to like to think about what their life was like twenty years ago and to imagine what it would be like twenty years from now. It is easy to look back but much harder to look forward.

I have my suspicions about what things will look like, but who knows. I’ll be turning 60 and in theory my children will all be out of the house and living on their own. I can’t say much more than that. Too many variables, too many unknowns.

At least not today. Today I don’t think that I want to engage in any sort of projections about what is going to be. Besides, sometimes the best thing that you can do is focus upon the present.

Obama- Realistic Expectations

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Less than two days left until we say goodbye to Dubya and set a new milestone by inaugurating Barack Obama as President of the United States of America. That is quite a mouthful, President of the United States of America.

You don’t have to spend much time looking around to see descriptions of the POTUS as being the most powerful man in the world. I’d say that it is relatively fair assessment of what comes with being POTUS. However I’d also say that it is not unlimited power. The president is not omnipotent.

So you might ask yourself why I am mentioning any of this. The answer is simple. I have grave concerns about the expectations that some people have of President Obama’s ability to solve the challenges facing him.

Far too many people talk about him in almost mythical terms. I am gravely concerned about what is going to happen if he doesn’t meet their expectations. And to be honest I don’t think that he will. That is not a knock against him. I am not talking about qualifications and whether he has them or not. That discussion is done.

I am convinced that he is a smart guy and that his heart is in the right place. But there is only so much that can be done. And it seems to me that there are people with unrealistic expectations about what he will be able to accomplish. We have the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan and a very tough economic situation. Not to mention all of the fuss over what people think that he’ll bring to the ME peace process.

There is enough work there to last four terms, let alone one. So while I very much want him to succeed I do not expect it all to work. I expect that he is going to fail in some areas. And so I wonder what sort of response he is going to receive when this happens.

Let me be clear, I don’t think that anyone could walk in on January 20th and fix everything that needs to be adjusted. There is simply too much.

So here is what I am hoping happens. I am hoping that the man exceeds the expectations of those who wish that he fails and that those who idolize him gain a more realistic perspective. Add to that my wish and fervent desire that the polarization we have seen under Dubya and Clinton disappears.

It is time for people to pull together and stop pulling apart, at least that is my dream. In a couple of days we’ll get a chance to try and find out if some dreams can come true.