Cobwebs Of The Mind

Monday, October 22, 2007

Writers, Authors, Squiggilers And Vonnegut

Those who know me, and some of the long-time readers here at Cobwebs Of The Mind, know that since I read "Slaughterhouse Five", oh so many years ago, I was a fan of the now deceased Kurt Vonnegut. A big fan. Over the years, though some of his statements did border on the outrageous (we are all allowed a flap now and then) reading Vonnegut became something akin to an addiction. So I am going to sprinkle this post with just a bit of Vonnegut - simply because I can. Statements like this from his work "The Sirens Of Titan":

"A purpose of human life, no matter who is controlling it, is to love whoever is around to be loved."

As writers or authors or squiggilers (I made up the word so sue me!) we become obsessed at times from going to blog to forum to blog to web site trying to gleam that one piece of information that will help us get our message through in that horrendous, stupefying devil's creation known as the query letter. Or once we are free of the devil's backside in the query, and then we made our proposal or sent in those first few chapters or pages, and then we are asked for a "partial", and then we are asked for a "full"... Goodness gracious, you guys know the routine. Often we are ready to swear the system was created by a bunch of business people who got high and drunk all at once - and figured out a way to destroy any writer's dreams.

But of course, it is not the case. We all know that it is true that 90% or should I say even 99% of the stuff written out there (cause that is the sad truth), is just not worth killing those poor trees for. So we have our sifters and our witches; our demons and our torture chamber. We submit those queries, we spend hours on the Internet and with our head buried in the plethora of books - telling us how to write, when to write, where to write and the worst sin of all - what to write about.

I have noticed an explosion in such books written by people whose names, which my lack of culture, erudition, knowledge and finesse, I am totally unfamiliar with. There are so many people telling us how to write and what to write - and making big bucks off of our desire to just plain write. We are most assuredly one of the biggest, most sucker-oriented "self-help" market that exists. And I'll be damned - but 99% of those books telling me how to write are written by people who have the "How To Write Book" as their first publication credit in the world of writing.

So why do we write? The odds are against us - hell we may as play the slot machines in Vegas with better hope of at least winning something! Of course the Vonnegut-ian answer to this is as follows (from an Interview with Robert Scholes, October 1966):

"Well, I've worried some about, you know, why write books...why are we teaching people to write books when presidents and senators do not read them, and generals do not read them. And it's been the university experience that taught me that there is a very good reason, that you catch people before they become generals and presidents and so forth and you poison their minds with...humanity, and however you want to poison their minds, it's presumably to encourage them to make a better world."

Here is a famous seven point writing plan from Vonnegut (quoted in Science Fictionisms (1995), compiled by William Rotsler):

Find a subject you care about.
Do not ramble, though.
Keep it simple.
Have the guts to cut.
Sound like yourself.
Say what you mean to say.
Pity the readers.

Yes pity the readers and don't take pity on yourself. Write but understand that not every word is gold (only mine are!) And understand that if you have this addiction and are stupid enough to want to deluge the world with your writing - it is going to usually be a long, hard and very lonely road out there. You know you are not alone, and you should never think you have been abandoned. Perhaps you will never become an author, but never believe you are alone.

"Still and all, why bother? Here's my answer. Many people need desperately to receive this message: I feel and think much as you do, care about many of the things you care about, although most people do not care about them. You are not alone."

See why I love Vonnegut?

What we do often forget, is that our own knowledge and perhaps skill is actually enriched when we read. What a thought! Reading! No, I did not say writing, and I don't mean any "self-help turn yourself into a writer in 30 days or your money back" mumbo-jumbo. I mean READING. (Argh! Did I scream that word?)

True there are so many books out there how do we decide to spend our $20 or so a month on books. Or maybe it is $100. Or maybe even $1000. Even $1000 a month will not keep you up to date or allow you to find the books you would want to read!

The Internet is a gem at times. At other times it sucks, totally completely sucks. But I discovered - yes, I am Columbus and of course no one knows a thing about this - I discovered a very engaging set of web pages, hidden mind you, and only I have the key, at the New York Times. There, if you manage to wade through the New York Times Book Review (don't deny it - you read it and fantasize about the day when you will see your book reviewed there!), there is a section called "First Chapters". Guess what that is? Well, I will keep the surprise to myself, and you can click over to it and enjoy.

In the end though, most will continue to plug away - writing and editing, cutting and changing, query lettering and partial submitting and praying.

Here are two Vonnegut quotes for you:

"I think it can be tremendously refreshing if a creator of literature has something on his mind other than the history of literature so far. Literature should not disappear up its own asshole, so to speak."

"Here is a lesson in creative writing. First rule: Do not use semicolons. They are transvestite hermaphrodites representing absolutely nothing. All they do is show you've been to college."

And no, you cannot get away with calling a semicolon a transvestite hermaphrodite. Only Vonnegut can make that sound totally right!

So you squiggle away. You write. You think of yourself as an author. You fantasize when you go on-line to Amazon seeing your book on that best-seller list. You work hard at it. You sweat. You seek encouragement but you will exist on tea, coffee and cigarettes without human contact if you have to. You say to yourself these are the dues one must pay. And you may be right.

You even become your characters. You laugh and cry with them. They say things that make you ROFL - ("roll on the floor in laughter", for you non Internet junkies. Sheesh where have you been living?) You become those squiggled characters. Pretend somehow crosses the line between what is on your computer screen or in your notebook and what your reality is. Maybe you LOL ("laugh out loud") or LMAO ("laugh my ass off") suddenly without any reason at the dinner table and your spouse and kids or parents are seriously beginning to think you need therapy. Beware! As Vonnegut put it so well:

"We are what we pretend to be, so we must be careful what we pretend to be."

So take this advice. Take it seriously. Stop. Go read something. Walk outside and breathe the air. Get off the computer! Yep that is right. YOU - OFF THE COMPUTER NOW! Go to your book store and browse. And if someone starts up a conversation and asks you what you do for a living or for a hobby - make up something - anything - just don't say "I am a writer". Forget that is what you do for a few minutes or hours. Buy a book. Curl up on the couch and read. Or better yet - get the biggest damn ice-cream cone you can put down in one sitting, and lick away.

In an interview by David Brancaccio, NOW (PBS) (7 October 2005) Vonnegut had this to say:

[Vonnegut tells his wife he's going out to buy an envelope]

Oh, she says well, you're not a poor man. You know, why don't you go online and buy a hundred envelopes and put them in the closet? And so I pretend not to hear her. And go out to get an envelope because I'm going to have a hell of a good time in the process of buying one envelope. I meet a lot of people. And, see some great looking babes. And a fire engine goes by. And I give them the thumbs up. And, and ask a woman what kind of dog that is. And, and I don't know. The moral of the story is, is we're here on Earth to fart around. And, of course, the computers will do us out of that. And, what the computer people don't realize, or they don't care, is we're dancing animals. You know, we love to move around. And, we're not supposed to dance at all anymore.

And while you are eating that ice cream or reading your new book, or just enjoying the feeling of the air on your face and knowing how wonderful it is to be alive, and you assured that you are about to spread your wings - always remember:

Oh! I almost forgot - here is a great Vonnegut quote for you!

"Humor is a way of holding off how awful life can be."

(Thanks go to WikiQuotes for the Vonnegut quotes.)

Posted On: Cobwebs Of The Mind

Sunday, October 21, 2007

Tentatively Sticking My Foot In The Water... Yet Again

I needed a hiatus from the trials, tribulations and sometime headache of dealing with blogging, especially at Cobwebs Of The Mind. For a few months I put is aside, letting it gather dust, as other responsibilities had to be attended to. Unlike my other forays into the world of blogging, posts at Cobwebs Of The Mind have to be thought out and actually say something, (or not as the case of your sensitivities and judgment may be.)

It never ceases to surprise me how we tend to accept stability in the world around us and then perspective granted by the passing of time somehow allows us to view some real serious changes. In the blogging world of literature, writing, agents and publishing - change over a period of time seems to be the norm.

In the past six months since my last post here, when the day came when and I realized enough was enough and let us take a time-out to go play in the sandbox, many changes seem to have taken place within our little blogging world.

Miss Snark upped and left. This was not unexpected, by the way, however in reviewing my bookmarks and links (half of which over the past six months simply stopped working and the owners dissipated into the mists hovering over our virtual world), I find that no one has taken up the vacuum. Perhaps it is because Miss Snark, indeed, was a one time phenomena, and no one has the time to put into a blog that she did. Truth be told, many of us were addicted to her cynical wit and often straight no BS advice. Sometimes such an approach is just what the doctor ordered.

The Rejecter is still at work, though seems to be on a cut back schedule. She has tried to adopt some of the "snarkiness" from Miss. Snark, but by her own admission, this is a query letter reader, so in the ultimate importance of things, her advice though often great, seems to be taken by most of us with a few grains of the proverbial salt.

The denizen scam-busters are still at it, and Writer Beware is one blog I sneaked a peek often during my self-imposed exile. Sometimes I do find it difficult to follow the stories about messes and scams that writers seem to gravitate to at times, but I put that down to my senility. Of all the blogs out there for writers, Writer Beware is truly a public service.

Then, of course, there are the literary agents who blog. Most, not all, seem to have kept up on a fairly steady stream of blogging and advice. Much of the advice is usually to the point and excellent, but then again, much of it also presents a personal view of the agent involved. My favorite among them, though, Lit Agent X, has certainly cut back on her blog and her informative posts. It seems her move Folio Literary Management has taken up a great deal of time. Her posts were usually full of information and written in a straight way with a kind attitude for the writers who are trying to break in to the industry. Of course, BookEnds, LLC — A Literary Agency, is still a wonderful blog to peruse, as is, Pub Rants of the Nelson Literary Agency.

The Deepening too, went to the great virtual cemetery of the virtual world. Personally, and for obvious reasons, I believe it is a loss and perhaps it is a lesson for all of us in expectations and perseverance. The Internet is a harsh battleground and takes no prisoners. Though I think this one on-line magazine, did have a great future ahead of it. But alas, it too, is no more, and I wish the editors and owners luck in all their coming endeavors.

In short, the blogs may change, the web-sites come and go, but the rules of the game, and to no great surprise all remain the same. (All right, maybe more agents are entering into the world of "modern technology" and are no longer demanding the snail-mail letter and are willing to except email queries - which is a plus.)

Over time, I have made friends with quite a few published authors, others who are on their way to be published, and yet others who are still upon the query letter route. It has been an enlightening and interesting experience. I have heard stories of writers, agents and publishers which we would never read on the Internet - good, bad, pretty and some damn right ugly.

Many of the authors, hopeful and established, I have had the pleasure of sharing emails with, all go from the ecstasy of hope to the despair of fear of failing. I have learned even those who have 5 or more books to their name, and have even been on the Best-Seller lists, suffer with each work the same self-doubt which plagued them from the beginning. I have also learned certain rules were made to be broken in the quest for a good agent and entrée into the world of publishing.

And there are too many, who still feel that their ability to make a one-line quip or witty remark turns them into bona-fide writers. They hang on the forums and writing circles, which are good for information from time to time, but sooner or later, one should realize that writing is just that -writing. Either you do it or you don't. That too is a lesson to be learned. Writing forums and blogs as well, (like this blog), can become a massive waste of time and energy. In the end result, the normative route to publishing is the old writing-agent-publisher route. Of course you can go POD or self-pub, and of course you can create a pdf with an E-book in mind, but the facts are simple. In order to have your book published via a normative route the path is laid out and the stones are slippery from all the wear they have upon them.

The contests as well come and go, with new trends being experimented with even by traditional publishers. Many of the web-sites who have decent names, such as Gather, have coupled with traditional publishers. And @ Writer Beware they keep us totally up-to-date on what is legit and what is not, if you are so inclined to enter the contests.

One rule which to be honest I always knew, but never accepted is that you just never know what will work and will not work. Instincts are great, and work for us most of the time, but sometimes one has to take a deep breath, and just go for it. When I had started my other blog, Help! I Have A Fire In My Kitchen, I thought it would honestly end up as curiosity for maybe twenty people. Little did I realize that it would garner the interest and following it has in one short year. It was a round-about lesson me in the world of writing as well.

So, everything changes and nothing changes. You first write, then you have to find an agent, then the agent has to sell your ms. to a publishing house, then you have to sign a contract, then you have to wait for pre-publication and publication, then you have to work hard to market your book and put in the public relations, and during all that besides your daily activities, you must write your next book and your next and your next.

The one thing that didn't change is what I consider to be the utter genius of the folks over at Despair.com. Sometimes when they release a new "Demotivator" I am willing to swear that the one who wrote them was or is an author. So in the spirit of some true Despair (which as you know deep in your heart is something we all partake in) I have included two new ones from the folks at Despair (one above and one below). Don't let them blow the wind out of your sails though. Just remember them from time to time to put a more realistic edge on your goals and dreams. And if you have written, gotten an agent or published in the time I have been musing in other things, drop a line or comment about the book or agent or story you have. If it is of interest to the public I will be glad to post it here at Cobwebs Of The Mind.

Now Go Write!

Posted On: Cobwebs Of The Mind

Sunday, April 15, 2007

The Language Of A Symbol & The Wail Of Mourning

Tonight in Israel, and all over the world begins Yom HaShoah - Holocaust Remembrance Day. In light of the absolute refusal to try and understand the absolute evil that the Swastika represents to the Jewish people, presented on the forum of Absolute Write, and the subsequent incredibly vile, irresponsible, foolish and depraved remarks made on that forum and in the comments here at Cobwebs Of The Mind (for all articles in this series click here) about Hitler and his "final solution", I can actually think of no better time to post this.

In our last post, Silence Is Not An Option, the original poster of the Swastika had this to say in the comments:

I deeply apologize for offending you.

In order to honor you and display the boundless respect I have for you, I shall leave my swastika up and continue to use the symbol, so that you may have further fuel with which to draw traffic to your blog.

-Bartholomew

This comment brought a few who could not believe their eyes. It required no further explanation. The poster of the Swastika made it clear this was not done of any desire to spread love of the Buddhist symbol (was there ever any question?) nor any desire whatsoever except to antagonize. The truth comes out. But when he was called for it he sent in this as well:

It was a sincere apology. I don't want to offend anyone. But I'm not going to cater to anyone's whim, either.

Besides, this cause is obviously important enough to warrent the amount of time Teddy has spent on it. So let him spend it.

He could go find some real Nazis, or some other hate group and attack them instead, but that would take courage, a commodity Mr. Gross has in short supply.

Again the cynicism speaks for itself. Nor is it important enough to grace with a reply. It simply shows the true nature of the swastika bearer. Besides when a group of people do sport the swastika, when they attack and vilify anyone who does not agree with them - well that by definition is a "hate group". However, there is one phrase here, (misspelled by the author of the comment) that I do think is worthy of a reply. That is the paragraph that says:

Besides, this cause is obviously important enough to warrent the amount of time Teddy has spent on it. So let him spend it.

So let us for a moment discover and explain why this very subject is indeed important enough to spend the time I have spent on it. Why any sane person would be morally and ethically culpable for not spending time on it.

Holocaust Remembrance Day begins at 8:00 PM Israeli Time with a ceremony at Yad Va'Shem the central Holocaust Museum in Israel. The name Yad VaShem - literally meaning: "a place (or can mean 'hand') and a name" comes from Isaiah 56:4-5 part of a chapter which traditional Jews read on every fast day.

“For so says the Lord to the eunuchs who will keep My Sabbaths and will choose what I desire and hold fast to My covenant, I will give them in My house and in My walls a (Yad VaShem) place and a name, better than sons and daughters; an everlasting name I will give him, which will not be discontinued.”

There in this house of Yad Va'Shem chosen to give the martyred an everlasting name, 6 people, survivors of the Nazi Swastika bearers, light six torches to represent the six million murdered by the Swastika bearers. TV is only allowed to show documentaries dealing with the Holocaust. There are no comedies, no mysteries, no movies shown for a period of 24 hours.

Tomorrow at 11:00 AM Israeli time the wail of the air-raid sirens is heard throughout Israel. At that moment, everything stops. People stand is silent mourning. Traffic pulls over to the side and not a car moves - not even on the highways. Cafes and restaurants and stores are filled with silent, unmoving bodies with lowered heads. We remember. We promise ourselves and our children and our children's children and their children - that we will never forget. That we will never allow this to happen again.

Evil is evil is evil. Once it accomplishes its goal, once it is allowed to tarnish the face of humanity, once we allow it to flourish with our silence - once that happens - we cannot go back and change the course of the past. We can only move forward promising ourselves that it will never be allowed to happen again. That we will not be silent ever again in the wake of its ugly, menacing stance. That we will not allow it to taint our world and certainly not our souls.

There can be no jokes about mass murder. There can be no excuses. There can be no possibility of alleviating one of the role that specific person played perpetrating the evil. We, as the ones who populate this planet, cannot allow such a thing to happen. It is not a question of degree nor a question of time. If we refuse to recognize evil - as evil - we become an accomplice to its goals and needs. We would share in its destruction and depravity.

It is astounding and indeed shocking that grown adults do not understand this basic aspect of the human condition. It is sad that teenagers have no clue about the collective past of humanity and certainly should act as a siren call to all those who view education in a serious light. It is beyond explanation how those who lay claim to seeking the truth and presenting a balanced and fair argument can, in all honesty, sport a swastika and spew forth the argument that it must be reclaimed for the Nazi's are of the past and memories serve no purpose.

Of course, there are always and will always be those who are simply fools. They see nothing beyond their own lives and needs and wants. Perhaps they are children in need of growing up; perhaps they are adults who cannot or will not for whatever reason accept the wisdom and lessons from the past. It makes no difference. It makes it no less important, no less critical, no less imperative - that those who do understand the nature of evil - remember, act, and refuse to be silent.

I have allowed comments to appear on this Blog, whose nature causes shivers among sane adults. I have allowed both spoiled children and those calling themselves intellectual adults, to call us ignorant, stupid and a great many other names - in their attempt to justify the depravity that they continue to display. I have rarely reacted to the lies that I have seen posted in other blogs and on the Absolute Write Forum. There simply was no need to. The remarks made stood in all their glory by themselves. They were the most telling witness to the truth behind the words and the symbols.

A symbol. That is how it began. This is how it ends. Just a simple, stupid symbol. And yet one look at that symbol, one memory of it, causes such blackness to open up in one's mind, that nothing can wash away the shadow of evil it leaves, while we shiver in its dark veil. A symbol that haunted the world for 15 years, and brought it near total destruction. A symbol which caused all light to vanish. A symbol which takes credit for more deaths and more destruction than any other symbol ever portrayed and presented in the dark history of mankind. A symbol - which if for one moment we allow ourselves to forget all that it represents - will without doubt rear its ugly head again in order to continue to spread the evil of Satan upon our world.

In light of this symbol how does one remember the Holocaust? How does one remember 6 million who were gassed, hung, shot, killed and murdered? It is a number so far beyond human understanding, so impossible to comprehend that it causes us to stand mute at the horror of it.

Therefore I am going to just bring the 6 Torch-Bearers here. Just 6 representatives who due to luck, fate or God - whatever you choose to believe - did not become a statistic.

(The picture and article below is courtesy of The Jerusalem Post.)

From The Jerusalem Post - April 15,2007:

Illuminating the memory of the six million who perished

Holocaust survivors Zanne Farbstein, Manya Brodeski-Titelman, Mordechai (Motke) Wiesel, Yaacov (Jacki) Handeli, David Gur and Ya'akov Janek Holladner have been chosen to light torches in memory of the six million Jewish victims of the Holocaust - here are their stories.

Zanne Farbstein

Zanne Farbstein was born in 1926 in Bardejov, Slovakia. Her first memory of the war was the sudden entry of German soldiers into her family's home on Shabbat eve, after which there remained a solid German presence in the town. Her father's business was confiscated, and her two older brothers were sent to a military labor camp.

In March 1942, all females under 25 were ordered to gather in a school. Farbstein and her two sisters, Edith and Sarah, were escorted by their father, who tearfully gave each of them a corona coin as a good-luck amulet.

They joined a thousand other girls on the first transport to Auschwitz, where they were ordered to leave their possessions on the train, including the treasured coins.

After a few months, they were sent to the newly built Birkenau camp, where they endured hard labor, acute hunger and disease. Farbstein survived the selektions because of her Aryan looks, and managed to obtain the "desirable" jobs of sorting confiscated clothes and other personal possessions. One day, she found her father's prayer shawl, and understood that he had been murdered.

The three sisters stayed together, looking after one other and sharing their food. One day, Edith, sick and exhausted, suggested exchanging her good shoes for Farbstein's threadbare ones. The meaning was clear: Farbstein and Sarah never saw Edith again.

On January 18, 1945, the women were sent on a death march to Germany. Through the snow and rain, Farbstein had to support her ailing sister. After the German guards abandoned the prisoners in a small town, the sisters continued on to the American Zone, where they met soldiers from the Jewish Brigade. They then traveled to Prague and Bratislava, where they learned that two of their brothers had survived. They returned to their birthplace, where the four were reunited. The fates of Farbstein's grandfather, grandmother and younger brother remain unknown.

In 1949, the extended family immigrated to Israel with the help of the Joint Distribution Committee. Zanne Farbstein and her husband, Moshe, have two children and five grandchildren.

Manya Brodeski-Titelman

Manya Brodeski-Titelman was an only child, born in 1932 in Zhabokrich, Ukraine.

In July 1941, the German army entered the town, followed by the Romanian army.

The Jews were ordered to gather in five cellars, where the Romanian soldiers proceeded to shoot them. Manya Brodeski-Titelman lost consciousness. When she awoke, she saw that her mother had been killed. Her father had survived.

Manya and her father hid in the cellar until nightfall. They then escaped to a forest but after a week, starving and cold, they returned. A few days later, they were herded into the town ghetto, where they lived under grueling conditions in an apartment with several other families.

One day, the police ordered both adults and children back to the cellars to remove the corpses from the massacre. The bodies were in a terrible state of decomposition, and the horrified prisoners were forced to bury them in a mass grave.

Manya identified her mother's body by the red boots she had been wearing. She and her father managed to bury her near their home.

During this period, thousands of Jews from Bessarabia were being herded to the nearby River Bug, where they were murdered. Manya's father would throw boiled potatoes to them across the ghetto fence, and bring survivors to their home.

Toward the end of the war, the Romanians gathered all the Jews in the main square of the town, planning to kill them. Suddenly, a group of German soldiers arrived and warned the Romanians that the Russian army had arrived. The Romanians fled. To the Jews' astonishment, the German soldiers turned out to be partisans in disguise.

In 1980, Manya and her family immigrated to Israel. In 2003, she was among a group that erected a memorial tombstone on the site of her hometown's mass grave.

In March 2007, Manya's husband, Boris, a Holocaust survivor and a veteran of the Red Army, passed away. She has two daughters, five grandchildren and a great-grandchild.

Mordechai (Motke) Wiesel

Mordechai (Motke) Wiesel was born in 1929 in Satmar, Transylvania, to a family of eight.

When the Germans invaded Hungary in 1944, Motke's father sent his three sons to work on a farm. Meanwhile, the Jews were herded into the city's ghetto; after a few weeks, the boys were taken to the ghetto as well.

Motke and his family were put on a transport. He and his twin brother, Meir, managed to find air to breathe from a small crack in the train car.

They were herded off the train at Auschwitz on their 15th birthday, and beaten. At the first selektion, Motke and Meir were separated from their parents and siblings, whom they never saw again.

As they drew towards the infamous camp gate, Meir naively asked: "How long do you think we will have to work here before we are freed?"

After a week, the twins were sent to the Plaszow camp, near Krakow, where they worked in Oskar Schindler's pig farm and as apprentice builders. They were then taken to Gross-Rosen and from there to the Langenbielau Sportschule, near Reichenbach.

The brothers always looked after each other, sharing stolen food or the remains reserved for the dogs. In one camp, Motke persuaded his brother to cut his hands in a "work accident" to avoid certain death on a machine he was being forced to operate.

After liberation in May 1945, they went to live in empty houses in Reichenbach, where they regained their strength. Back in Satmar, they discovered that only their elder brother had survived. Nothing is known about the rest of the family.

With the help of the bricha (escape) operation, the brothers were smuggled into Austria and from there to Italy.

Motke succeeded in reaching Eretz Israel in 1947, and made his way to Kibbutz Sde Nahum, where Meir awaited him.

Meir was killed fighting in the War of Independence. Motke later fulfilled his dream of becoming an officer in the Jewish army.

In 1952, Motke married Esther. They have two children and eight grandchildren.

Yaacov (Jacki) Handeli

Yaacov (Jacki) Handeli was born in 1928 in Salonika, Greece, to an affluent family of six whose roots in the city dated back to the 16th century.

In 1941, the Germans entered Salonika. They implemented anti-Jewish laws, and turned the Baron Hirsch quarter into a ghetto. Handeli and his family were marched into the ghetto, in a humiliating parade.

Two weeks later, the family was deported to Poland, with some 85 people crammed into each train car. After a week, the food and water ran out. Every time the train stopped, the Germans would remove the bodies of the dead and rob the others of their possessions.

It was then that Handeli learnt his first sentence in German: "You won't need this any more."

The train arrived at Auschwitz, and the prisoners were sent to the first selection. Handeli and his brothers Yehuda and Shmuel saw their parents and sisters for the last time, and were then taken to work in the camp.

Like the other refugees from Salonika, they were unable to speak to the Germans or with other Jews in the camp because they did not know Polish, German or Yiddish.

After his two brothers died, Salonika boxer Jaco Razon helped him survive the camp.

In January 1945, the prisoners were sent on a death march. Handeli remembers the snow-covered road dotted with the blood of those who had been murdered, the march to the Gleiwitz camp, and then on to Dora-Mittelbau in open coal trucks, exposed to the cold and the rain, without food or water, until they reached Bergen-Belsen, where they remained until liberation by the British.

In 1947, Handeli immigrated to Israel. He volunteered in Mahal and fought in the War of Independence.

Handeli is the sole survivor of his family.
He and his wife, Rachel, have two children.

David Gur

David Gur was born in 1926 in Okany, southeastern Hungary, to a family of four. In 1938, the Hungarian government began to implement anti-Jewish laws. Gur's father lost his business license and the family's economic situation worsened.

A dedicated Zionist, Gur went to Budapest to learn a useful trade for life in Eretz Israel. While working as a construction apprentice for a Jewish contractor, he began to take part in the underground activities of Hashomer Hatza'ir, which included helping refugees arriving from neighboring countries.

In March 1944, the Germans invaded Hungary, and the underground created a united defense committee that saved thousands of Jewish and non-Jewish lives.

Gur joined a cell that forged documents. One day, he and his friends were caught by Hungarian detectives. Although they quickly swallowed the forged documents, the equipment in their suitcases gave them away. After a brutal investigation, during which one of them died, the rest of the group was taken to the military prison in Budapest

Gur was among those scheduled for execution, but to their surprise, the prisoners were taken to the Swiss Consulate, where they were freed. A senior prison warden had been bribed by the underground.

After the war, Gur learned his father had died in Auschwitz, but that his mother and sister had survived. He became a member of the Hashomer Hatza'ir leadership. He also took part in the underground activities of the Hagana.

In 1949, when the Zionist movement was outlawed by the Communist regime, Gur commanded the last bricha (escape) operation, helping smuggle members of Zionist youth movements through Czechoslovakia and Austria to Eretz Israel.

In 1949, he immigrated to Israel. He graduated from the Technion-Israel Institute of Technology and became a construction engineer.

In 1985, Gur helped found the Association for Research into the Zionist Youth Movements of Hungary, where he remains active. He and his wife, Naomi, have three daughters and 10 grandchildren.

Ya'akov Janek Holladner

Janek Hollaender was born in 1929 in Krakow, Poland, to a family of five.

In 1940, the Jews were exiled from the city, and Janek's family was forced to sell its property to survive. In 1942, they were taken to the Krakow ghetto, where Janek Hollaender and his parents were separated from his two brothers. With rumors of an imminent aktion, they hid themselves in a basement, where Janek's father had installed a special lock on the door so it could not be opened from the outside.

Janek recalls their subsequent imprisonment in Plaszow because of the terror created by the camp's commander, Amon Goeth, who regularly shot randomly in all directions. Janek and his brother Benek were later sent to Starachowice, and then to Auschwitz, where they looked after each other as best they could.

In the winter of 1944, the prisoners were marched to Mauthausen. Benek had difficulty walking because of a leg injury sustained while selling coal in Rideltau. Urged on by Janek, he managed to reach the camp, but then collapsed, and Janek never saw him again.

In April 1945, the prisoners were taken on a death march to Gunskirchen. As news spread that the Germans had fled, Janek, weighing just 33 kilograms (70 pounds), managed to crawl out of the camp. He was taken to a Red Cross hospital, where he met soldiers from the Jewish Brigade. He decided to travel with them to Italy, joining a group of Jewish war orphans that was sent to a Youth Aliya camp in Selvino. There some 800 youngsters were trained for life in Israel.

Meanwhile, Janek learned that his father had been murdered in Auschwitz, his mother had died in Plaszow, and his brother Dolek had been shot in Bergen-Belsen, three days before the war's end.

In 1947, Janek arrived at Kibbutz Mishmar Hasharon. After serving in the Palmach's Harel Brigade, he helped found Kibbutz Tze'elim in the Negev, along with other former children from Selvino.

Today, Ya'akov Janek is a wellknown composer, musical arranger and choir conductor.

In 1955, he married Devorah. They have two children and a granddaughter.

So... You want to be funny? Wear a swastika? Attach it to your name? Poke a bit of humor, call Hitler an "underachiever", a "funky dude", or just tell us that "the trains ran on time"? You want to forget all about the evil of the swastika and reclaim it in the eyes of the Western world to something of purity and love? Perhaps you think it is enough to just put the modern "swastika bearers" on ignore? You want to quote lines and then blame it on someone else? You want to show off your erudition? Your knowledge? Your ability to call us ignorant? Want to call other people cowards and you remain courageous?

Anyone who thinks or believes such a thing, being so full of comedy, humor and courage, being so knowledgeable in just how a Swastika should look and what should offend those who have felt the brunt of its weight, to truly show your courage and sophistication you should contact a "survivor". To show off just how well you write and how come you are such a famous author known for great sales of your incredible works, let us find out just how funny one of these survivors think your lines are. How witty. Let us see how courageous you are when you attach a swastika to your email. Paint it sky-blue pink if you like. Invert it. Show it upside down and left side right. Let us see just how knowledgeable in the face of evil your theories about just how a Swastika should look to those who lost entire families to this symbol. Let us see just how much they laugh with glee and agree with you.

And if for some inexplicable reason they do not find you funny, nor humorous, nor courageous nor smart nor intellectual nor a great writer - take heart. There is always the ability to call them ignorant, or johnnyfuckwit's or stupid or even tell them you are sick of this "scummy holocaust crap". You can even call upon the memory of your ancestors as a witness to your erudition and tell us just how many of them were Jewish. And then of course you can give us all a discourse on linguistics and symbols.

I for one will stand mute during the the wail of the siren in memory of those who were murdered by the Swastika bearers. And in consequence, I for one will never be silent in the face of such depravity and warped thinking. I for one will not desist nor stop, ever, to speak out and protest when a Swastika in all its glory is waved in my face.

I owe it to my people, my children, their children and their children. I owe it to myself. And most importantly I owe it to all of humanity. WE owe it to humanity. For if we are silent in the face of such things as the Swastika being shown in all its hated glory and to lines that call Hitler an "underachiever" and to the call to "purify" the Swastika of its hated past - the words of John Donne will ring with awesome truth and in mourning for humankind.

No man is an island, entire of itself;
every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main.
If a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is the less,
as well as if a promontory were,
as well as if a manor of thy friend's or of thine own were:
any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind,
and therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls;
it tolls for thee.

There is a prayer, known as "El Maleh Rachamim" - "God, filled with Compassion", one that is recited in memory of those who died. It is specifically recited on Holocaust Remembrance Day for all those killed by the hands of the Nazis and those who helped the Nazis.
The words and message are simple and it is often recited by a cantor in a haunting tune that has accompanied these words for hundreds of years. The words in English are as follows:

God, filled with Compassion,
grant a full and perfect rest
under the wings of Your sheltering Shechinah/ Presence
-- among the lofty, holy, and pure,
radiant as the shining firmament --
to the souls of all those of all Your people
who have been murdered, killed and destroyed in all sorts of murderous ways
by the hands of German Nazis and all those who helped them
Make them welcome to their eternal home.
May they rest in the Garden of Eden.

Please, Master of Mercy,
envelop them
in Your comforting, protecting wings forever;
Bind up their souls in the Bond of Life.
For You are their Portion, their Inheritance.
May they rest securely in Peace,
and we say:
Amen.

We will bear witness to the last generation. We will never be silent. For that is our legacy. That is who we are and what we owe to those who were murdered by the Swastika bearers. We will never cease to hear the tolling of the bell and we will never again falter in the face of those who bear upon their shoulders such an evil symbol. We, our children, their children and the generations yet to come, will remember, remind and cry out. We dare not ever rest or tire. For the Swastika of the Nazis and all that it represents lies but in dormant silence. Always waiting. Always seeking. Always trying to find a way back into the hearts of man. It placed the mark of Cain upon the forehead of humanity - forever. And it is but our willingness to take a stand in the face of evil that keeps it at bay.

And this is why I waste my time in such posts. For it is not the mind of an attention starved child and his small group of depraved friends that concerns me. It is the fact that all those who see that hated symbol will know and understand just what it means to any human being who has a semblance of ethics and morality.

It is the symbol itself that demands a reaction. And those that bear it upon their own personalities, those that preach its redemption and purification, those that think the time has come to "forgive and forget" - will not be allowed to preach their beliefs without protest. They will not be allowed to forget the evil. They will not be allowed to slip peacefully into the night.

I owe this to millions upon millions who can no longer speak for themselves. I would owe this to but one as well. I owe this to those now elderly people who still walk upon this earth with blue numbers tattooed by the Swastika bearers into their flesh. I owe it to my children, so that they may inherit a better world than the one left to me. And in their wisdom they will give their children a better world than the one left to them.

There is no compromise. There is no silence. There will never be silence to be interpreted as complicity. Silence never was an option.

May the souls of all those who perished by the hands of the Nazis and the Swastika bearers be bound up in the bond of everlasting life.

Posted On: Cobwebs Of The Mind

Thursday, April 12, 2007

Who Will Die Tomorrow?

This month at The Deepening a different sort of piece was published, under the category of "True Life". Who Will Die Tomorrow? is actually a chapter from the book "Three Weeks In Jenin". Below is from the introduction to the piece which also appears up at The Deepening.

When the second Intifada (means “uprising”) rained down upon Israel in the year 2000, a long protracted terrorist war broke out where hundreds of innocent civilians were murdered, coming to its end when Israel finally invaded many Palestinian towns and villages in Operation Defensive Shield during the last days of March 2002. Our unit, in which I have served as a battlefield medic for over 20 years was called up immediately. Due to our expertise in warfare within towns and cities, where trained, armored foot soldiers must do most of the fighting, we were sent to Jenin.

Jenin had and still has the reputation, rightfully earned, as being the seat of terrorist activity. We were there for three weeks, from the beginning to the end. Afterwards, with a literary agent, I managed to interest a major publishing house and great editor in the story of Jenin. For whatever reasons, the book “Three Weeks In Jenin” was canceled.

The following is a chapter from the beginning of the book Three Weeks In Jenin. It tells of an event that took place three weeks or so before my call up and entry into town.

What is this city-village named Jenin? Perhaps below will explain it best.

In a landscape that could one day contain sparkling streams careening down small waterfalls into dark brown woods and flourishing green fields — in the midst of this beauty — lies a small city named Jenin. It is a place where one can experience the sweet smell of fresh blood mixed with that acrid odor of numbing fear, the sound of bombs exploding and guns firing, the sight of gaping wounds and mangled limbs, the touch of cold steel allowing less than a second of thought between killing or being killed, and the bitter taste of bile in the mouth. …Three weeks in the biblical village of Ein-Gannim, known currently as Jenin — a personal Armageddon encountered within a city where hate runs rampant even as the greatness of God is declared while in His name death is dispensed with a serene smile.

The first part of Who Will Die Tomorrow? (a real short piece actually) is below. You can read the rest up at The Deepening.

Art Work Courtesy of D. L. Keur

It always seems to begin with a phone call in the middle of the night. Possibly within the scheme of things, the divine scheme, if there is such a notion, no hour or minute takes preference over the other. Yet vindictive fate is jealous of those peaceful hours during sleep’s forgetfulness, and, with calculated spite, destroys our stolen tranquility.

That night, actually early morning, of March 8th, more than three weeks before Jenin would enter into the scheme of things, I fell asleep on the couch. On those nights when the body refuses to find sleep’s pleasure in bed and its magic lure fills me with fear, I gravitate to that couch. Some may call it an inner voice, or a message that the soul receives, but that the brain refuses to recognize. Still, when the couch beckons, and the body acquiesces to that call by falling into a deep, troubled sleep, an inner ear is always listening for soft, ghostly footfalls during dream’s pandemonium.

A ring of the cell phone at two AM. Instantly and completely awake, adrenalin surging, blood pumping wildly its echo in my inner ear…. With three rings to answer before voice-messaging takes control, the “Hello” comes out at the end of the second.

“Ted?”

It is Debbie, my ex-wife. You don’t live with a woman for twenty-two years without learning the nuance’s in her voice. “What happened?” I ask, realizing how stupid this sounds. Of course something has happened.

“Did you hear about the terrorist attack?”

Debbie knows I don’t react well to surprises, good or bad. Her voice, that tone, tells me she does not have time. Yet she is trying her best to not just come out with it, giving the chance for me to acclimate and my brain to react without immobilizing panic.

We have had seven children together. Six are still alive. Having shared that roller coaster ride to hell and back, both together and separately, I immediately wonder if six has just become five — morbid thoughts always ready for that ‘something else’ to happen. Always expecting it. “What attack?”

“In Atzmona,” Debbie answers, and then stops waiting for it to sink in. The brain does a quick check. Six kids, but none even near Atzmona. The two little ones are sleeping upstairs. What the hell is this about?

Debbie knows I have not made the connection. So she rushes on, no time left.

“Eli is still alive, but hurt. Don’t know how badly. I am going to get Shalhevet, and then drive down to Ashkelon where they took him to the hospital. Will call you as soon as I know something.”

I stare at the dead phone. Trying to catch up. Shalhevet whose name means in Hebrew, “flame”, is our eighteen-year-old daughter whom I call “bubela” which loosely means ‘doll’. Eli is Shalhevet’s boyfriend. They are childhood sweethearts and have been in love forever and ever it seems. …Says it all as far as I am concerned.

This is all part of a true story which details the events that lead up to and encompass Operation Defensive Shield from 2002, and subsequently the war during three weeks in Jenin where I was a medic.

Posted On: Cobwebs Of The Mind

Tuesday, March 27, 2007

Silence Is Not An Option

The amount of comments to the last post, The Day Hitler Became A "Funky Dude", and the often inane and vituperative comments that have been published in Absolute Write under the guise and flag "free speech" and "religious freedom" has forced me to revisit this whole issue once and yet again.

To be honest dealing with hate-mongers is not on the top of my list. To be honest some of the emails and comments show an incredible lack of historical understanding and full of apologetics. To be honest it is tiresome and weary. People who hate - simply hate. And I really suggest that some should just read Hannah Arendt's classic work, The Banality Of Evil.

I have waited for awhile due to other demands on my time. I have thought on this issue - removed from the personal - removed from any desire to immediately answer - or to lash out in cynical remarks. I have waited and read and judged - from comments, to emails, to phone calls, to people offering help, to people asking and telling me that since Absolute Write did them a favor "how could I wash their dirty laundry in public?" (Honestly that made me laugh and shake my head in disbelief.) Shows a real screwed up understanding of priorities and an incredibly ego-centric take on the world. Between Absolute Write and the showing of a Swastika... well it is incumbent upon any normal thinking human being to indeed "wash that linen in public". Indeed it is a moral and ethical sin not to. Besides the fact that any post in Absolute Write is put out there in Public for the PUBLIC to read.

So there were positive and negative comments. That is to be expected.

Let me make this clear as well. There are many good, moral and wonderful people that hang out at Absolute Write. There are many, a great deal, who have sanely stayed away from this argument. There are many others who are too afraid from some perceived vestige of power they wish to give to those who are powerless, to say something in public. Yet the mass hysteria display of a swastika, the lines about Hitler, the utter inane insistence that those lines had to be read in context - was condoned, supported and backed by the person who owns this board along with those who she has appointed to moderate her board. It is like watching the march of the red ants. And thus, because this is public board, because the "official" policy seems so riddled with warped hate; because silence in this area would be equivalent to admission - one must speak up. To those who think that Absolute Write is always right... well most people know where such a philosophy leads.

Whereas I do not make any claim that people at Absolute Write are sporting swastikas because they uphold Nazi beliefs - I am saying, that the posting of swastikas will invariably bring out an emotional response from those in the modern world, and especially from those who were and are effected by that symbol, and there are millions and millions - and rightfully so. And if one takes that hated symbol and posts it with others - to no less and no more - "reclaim" it - then one is showing at the very least an incredible amount of insensitivity and dullness. It becomes frightening when it then causes people to make inane comments about Hitler and the Nazis. It becomes insidious when normal people, not having a clue about what they are defending, follow a leader in some nutty attempt at revisionist history. It becomes loathsome when comments are dismissed as sarcastic and the readers are accused of taking them out of context when such comments can only bring pain and hurt and nightmares to so many. It becomes evil when the excuses are made.

If we remove the personal from all this, there seem to be two divergent lines being taken. First that the swastika showed originally was meant to portray the religious convictions of one person. It was not a swastika. It was not a call to attention. It was a normative expression which every true Buddhist would have done. And thus the swastika adopted by others was also meant to portray a showing of solidarity for this person.

The other argument is deeper and a bit more insidious. It states clearly and simply that yes, the Swastika was used as a symbol by the Nazis to perpetrate the most heinous crime on humanity that has yet to be repeated. (And God help us if it does get repeated.) And yes the Swastika represents evil and death. But it is time to "reclaim" the Swastika. It is time to look at this wondrous symbol with peace and joy and love. After all 60 years have passed. I mean 60 years! That is a lifetime. Move on. Get over it.

The first idea, where the swastika that was shown was not meant as a call to attention nor as a particularly depraved method in making a statement, has been defended in the comments section by one who calls herself Tsuki. You can view both here comments in the post, The Day Hitler Became A "Funky Dude". Tsuki lectures me and all of us on the differences in swastika's, and of course along the line tells me/us how disrespectful we are of the Buddhist/Hindu faith. Of course, Buddhists, real Buddhists, have never and will never use their symbol on a forum board. Of course real Buddhists would do everything NOT TO CALL attention to themselves.

All the time she defended Buddhism and the symbol, well one can smile and take it in. Though this argument does not and never had anything to do with Buddhists. But the moment someone tells me just what I should be doing...well..that is the moment when I must take a step back and say, "Hold on. Wait a second here." And it is the crux, the central point, the focal part of this insidious hate.

Let us see from the comment what Tsuki preaches:

The symbol that SHOULD be offensive to those of Jewish faith is a CLOCKWISE SWASTIKA ON A WHITE CIRCLE WITH A RED BACKGROUND.

Now I know what a Swastika is! So the only swastika I should be offended at, by virtue of being Jewish is the one you describe. Well Tsuki here is a picture-graph.

In other words since none of those Swastikas, do not have a red background and most are not slanted correctly - whether they are painted wrong or right, upside down or sideways - none of them should offend me? They are not being used as hate symbols? Golly Gee! Would you look at that! All those pretty little swastikas must have been painted by well-meaning people who had no desire to offend, harm or kill.

Now let us do a comparison shall we? Just a little itty bitty one. Just to make sure we are all seeing the same hate-ridden symbol. Just to make sure that we are presenting this properly.

Compare the swastika on the right of this picture...

Compare the swastika on the right under the S of "Cleaners"...

And this one...

And the all too familiar...

Jewish graves are a favorite...

Oh yes, I know. There is a symbol - never flaunted, never worn on a lapel. And one is the embodiment of evil. Always flaunted by the hate mongers. Oh yes, I realize one is the symbol of peace and joy and love - the other a symbol of death and horror. Of course we should all look real closely, see the dots, click on links, read the word Swastika emblazoned on top of Internet pages, see the explanations about Nazis and then - "reclaim" the symbol. Or maybe we should just let it go by. Because we all know that Buddhists always flaunt those symbols in public - on forum boards no less - where they know it will cause nightmares for many.

Those symbols above so look like a Nazi SWASTIKA! Now how could any Jew or holocaust survivor take umbrage! Shame on us! We need to see slanted, and red backgrounds. We need to see the EXACT REPLICA before we start having nightmares. I need to look for the dots no less! What a revelation! We need to see it exactly as you see it in the movies before we say - Never Again! We need to see a Storm Trooper in Black Boots and a white on red swastika before we can actually say that those lovely symbols bring every memory of evil personified back into our minds.

Not on your life. Not in a million lifetimes. Those are symbols in the modern world of hate and evil. Buddhists do NOT EVER paint their symbols in public forums outside of their own places of worship or places where they live. They do not go to public forum boards and wave that symbol around in a call to attention. Not ever.

This is so not about Buddhist symbols. This was never about Buddhist symbols. This was about a child who had to call attention to himself, and decided to link a "symbol" to a page emblazoned with the word Swastika also including the Nazi's use of this symbol.

At best this is about "revisionist history". This is about the first step in trying to eradicate the Holocaust from the mind of man. This is about a total and deep lack of understanding just what exactly did happen.

My last worry in the world is offending Buddhists. They are well aware what that symbol means to the mind of modern man. My last worry is that someone became a Buddhist and was proud of the fact and all the more power to a person that does so in purity and good faith. The very fact that the foul phrases used ("scummy holocaust crap" comes to mind just for starters) and the quotes about Hitler (which we will get to) were engendered by all of this, points to things a hell of a lot more sinister than just a Buddhist symbol used by the wrong person in the wrong time in the wrong place.

You want to lecture us on Buddhist symbols. Go right ahead. Don't you ever dare lecture me on what a Jew should be offended at. Don't you dare lecture anyone on just what that symbol means to any normal thinking human being. Don't you dare tell me what should or should not offend me. I have seen those who walk around with a swastika on their arms, in tattoos and elsewhere. They were not painted on red backgrounds. They were upright or upside down and right side left. They could have been sky-blue pink to me for all I care. They were swastikas. And I know damn well what the portrayal of that symbol means. I do not rely on the intelligence of some child who cannot imagine in her wildest dreams what that symbol represents to a nation murdered in cold blood by the bearers of that symbol - to tell me what I should be offended at and how that symbol should look - before I interpret the hate in the eyes of those who wear it, and spray paint it, and put it on their signatures. There is nothing more loathsome, more disgusting, more depraved than a mob mentality defending the use of a swastika as a religious symbol - when they themselves have no clue what they are talking about.

And let us for a moment deal with this shall we. Just a short part of this long post. One called Toothpaste seems to have gotten dragged over the coals for expressing an opposing opinion. (Not to talk about others who were told just where to shove it.) And Toothpaste made it clear, absolutely clear, she/he did not agree with me. (Click here to see the full post.) But then she/he informed all of Absolute Write:

"But I do think the choice should be to show that symbol, but everyone has been telling me the choice in not an act of peace, but rather a means of solidarity in an antagonistic fashion."

This is what Buddhists do? Antagonize? Wear symbols to show their antagonism? And they want people to show solidarity for their symbol by antagonizing others? You have got to be kidding me.

Who is insulting Buddhism now? Who is insulting that religious symbol? Who is making a mockery of it? All the sudden "free speech" people at Absolute Write? Just who here has degraded the symbol of Buddhism into a method of attack and depravity?

So in order to show this "means of solidarity in an antagonistic fashion" others placed a Swastika on their signatures. They were indeed careful. They made sure that they were "teaching" the uneducated among us that a "swastika" does not, in certain societies have any "evil" connotations. They wanted to make it clear that the swastika was and is still used by other societies.

And thus we have this:

And this (The A below should be an image of a swastika as the text bears out):

And this piece (where to be totally fair to the poster of the Swastika below, where he wrote "Here for your enjoyment" he simply pulled that picture from Wikipedia's article on Swastikas. The exact same article where the authors made it clear:

In the Western world, since World War II, the swastika is usually associated with the flag of Nazi Germany and the Nazi Party. Prior to this association, swastikas were used throughout the western world.)

The mob attacks. They sing "all for one and one for all". They hold the symbol up and scream their loyalty. They do so without understanding or thinking.

So according to these people, either the Swastika is a symbol that must be "reclaimed" or it is a symbol that should be recognized by one and all - symbolizing the Buddhist tradition. Or a symbol of farmers from Tibet or the Navajo Medicine Men. Perhaps there are others that use this symbol as well. Funny how I did not see not ONE person wear a swastika on their signature and say:

"This symbol was also used by Hitler and Nazi Germany to murder, rape and kill in a megalomaniac war millions upon millions of people - and was also used to send millions to their death in concentration camps."

Indeed since we are quoting eclectic and "revisionist" statements, maybe we should also quote this as well (For a full link - go here.) And this is from an article trying to show the differences between the symbols and how the Buddhist symbol is a mirror image of the Nazi Swastika.

swastika

The swastika is a symbol representing the Nazi party and all of the evil that party stood for: anti-Semitism, the Holocaust, hatred of homosexuals, desire to eliminate the handicapped and infirm, etc.

It wasn't always that way. The swastika is an ancient and frequently recurring symbol, found in many different cultures during many different times. One can find the swastika associated with Hopi Indians, Aztecs, the Celts, Buddhists, Greeks, Hindus (swastika derives from Sanskrit and means to be well), etc.

Whatever and however noble its ancient heritage, the symbol of the swastika has been forever tainted in the West because of its Nazi association.

The fact remains that the symbol was also and most recently used by the Nazis. The fact remains that most people know and realize that Buddhists never use this symbol to flaunt or antagonize especially in public - especially on a public forum board. The fact remains that the only reason any person displayed a swastika was to either call pathetic attention to themselves - knowing full well that such an act is depraved - or as was so aptly put as a "means of solidarity in an antagonistic fashion". More to the point, if this symbol was being expressed as an act of love, then why, the question is asked, why did it engender such shocking statements on Absolute Write about Hitler and the Nazis? Why even after all the explanations did many find it completely shocking? Why were so many disgusted at it? Why were they told to shut up when they voiced opposition to the "means of solidarity in an antagonistic fashion" being displayed at Absolute Write? Even in light of the fact that it certainly is true that in today's society - "the swastika is usually associated with the flag of Nazi Germany and the Nazi Party."

I honestly have no real answers to these questions. I can put it down to ignorance. I can explain it away as simply being not aware what the swastika truly means to many who were and are effected by it. I can say it is insidious hate. I can say it is just plain old stupidity. I can give a million answers and none truly cover the horrendous display that was made at Absolute Write of swastikas and Hitler/Nazi lines.

Indeed perhaps it would be good to remember that - "Whatever and however noble its ancient heritage, the symbol of the swastika has been forever tainted in the West because of its Nazi association."

However I do know some things are completely and totally inexcusable. And so we are forced now to deal with the "sarcastic wit". Let us for the moment show the picture of this wonderful post.

Now of course Ben, who calls himself Loquax on Absolute Write, must have been appalled that his post would be hung out for all the world to see. And so he commented in the thread, The Day Hitler Became A "Funky Dude".

I would just like to point out that what I wrote was a quote from social satirist Bill Hicks. Our intentions were both light hearted, and do not represent our true feelings on the matter - such is the nature of satire and sarcasm. It disappoints me I have to point this out.

But what you have written about me and my friends is from the heart. Your insults are not jokes. Not only are they not jokes, neither are they directed at us. Your badmouthing is behind our backs, in the safety of your moderated blog. You did not contact me for explanation or an apology request. You simply insulted me behind my back and expected things to "get better". Your actions have been petty, immature, and quite frankly laughable for a man of your age and intelligence.

The difference between us is that your words are intended to harm, whereas ours are intended to crack a smile or raise an eyebrow. Our hearts are free of hate - yours is brimming with it. The poison in your words, and the disrespect you show to your fellow man, is disgusting. I want you to understand this, and I want you to seriously consider the intentions behind what you have written.

I also strongly suggest you direct your hate at the real problems of our world - not at the sarcastic ramblings of an online writing group. You have passion in your heart, and it needs a vent. Find something constructive to do - all you are achieving here is destruction and hatred. Do you really think our world needs more of that?

Or perhaps we need tolerance and the ability to laugh at ourselves.

Just to remind you, here is the comment meant to "crack a smile".

Hitler had the right idea, he was just an underachiever.

So of course it is sarcastic wit. This was a comment intended to "crack a smile"! This is funny! This is from someone "free of hate". Someone with a deep understanding of history and the Nazis. Someone full of sensitivity for holocaust survivors. This is just to "crack a smile"! Now I have heard it all.

Thing is, that little ditty he quoted is at least 40 years old. I heard it from some skinheads when they were not called skinheads when I was 14 years old. Thing is no matter how you look at it, no matter how you want it to come out - it is just plain evil and sick. Imagine a comedian saying that from a stage. Or someone on radio or television coming out with that line. Or a public figure in a normal country espousing such a thought. The person, thankfully, would be ripped apart in the press in less than 5 seconds. And yet for some reason it is excused on Absolute Write. That can only point to an insidious sick deeply depraved way of thinking.

There are some things you just do not say. There are some lines that no matter how funny they sound to your ears - that remain inexcusable and just plain disgusting. Forever. There is no turning back.

You said it and signed your name to it. Worse, you defended it when you should have apologized and then hid under a rock. It is your swastika now.

There is no "context" for such a line. There is no before and after. There is no excuse. It is one of those things that once uttered stands in all its glory all by itself. Insistence by the writer of that line and others at Absolute Write that this does not portray a sick, evil thought- that it should be seen in context as "sarcasm" - that it is not the quintessence of hate and certainly not anti-semitic - does not fly. This line along with others is one of those lines that simply portray hatred in all its manifestations.

You think excusing this away in some fashion where you try to sound like an intellect will excuse just what you said and all the memories such a line brings to the fore. Insulting you? Damn straight. You insulted an entire people - No, you did much worse than that. You insulted millions upon millions of people that were killed in the name of the megalomania of the "underachiever". Sarcastic wit? Cracking a smile? Laughing at ourselves by calling Hitler an underachiever? What dark hole did you crawl out of?

Underachiever? Lets see how much of smile we can crack here. Let us just look at some of the images this line brings to the fore, shall we? Since it seems words only bring out the evil, let us try pictures. Maybe then those who think this is some "rant" will possibly think twice at defending the Swastika and portraying it. Maybe, but I doubt it. (Every single picture below is taken from Holocaust archives. Easy to find. Easy to view.)

You mean this picture from Bergen Belsen should "crack a smile"?

Or maybe this one from Auschwitz of the Germans being forced to view what the underachiever had accomplished?

Tell me how many human beings, how many lives does this pile of glasses represent? How much underachieving is there? How much of a "funky dude" Hitler must have been!

Or maybe this one from bodies being burned in a pit in Poland?

Or maybe this one of mass murder?

Or this?

THIS IS WHAT THE SWASTIKA REPRESENTS TO US. RIGHT SIDE UP OR UPSIDE DOWN. BLACK ON RED; PINK ON PURPLE. NO SMILING HERE. NO STANDING IN AWE OF INCREDIBLE WIT. NO TAKING A MOMENT TO "CHILL". NO NEED TO LOOK IT UP IN WIKIPEDIA. JUST PURE SHOCK AT THE EVIL.

This is what the underachiever line of yours and others makes any Jew and non-Jew who has a semblance of self respect see in their mind. Sarcastic wit? Crack a smile? If you truly believe such a thing and sadly I believe you do, I believe you are just simply too dulled to see the nature of your words and their evil... then what a sick, dark and evil place your mind must be.

And truthfully in the end it is sadly time for a picture history lesson. About the "funky dude" and the "underachiever". Let us see why normal human beings are horrified when they see the Swastika. Let us understand why excuses about using "sarcasm" just do not cut it. Why they are simply excuses and point to insidious hate on a real deep level. Let us understand why I personally do not give a damn in what color or how the swastika is displayed - because in the end as we saw above the only reason it was displayed was to provoke. You must possess a real sick mind, a shallow understanding of history and a real twisted view on the world to be able to demand that the swastika should be reclaimed. Any sick, twisted, demented individual who would dare post such a line and then hide behind "Hey, it is not my fault. It is just sarcastic wit. I am sorry to have to point that out!" - is not only evil but a coward to boot. But then again I am not surprised. Not in the least.

You see the Swastika bearers did this to our children. It was just a medical experiment. They did it to please the underachiever who was a funky dude, wearing the swastika.

They murdered us in cold blood and took pictures of it in pride.

When one allows things like this to pass in silence, then it is no wonder we find tee-shirts like this being worn by people - to "crack a smile" as it were. (And by the way, that tee-shirt caused such a ruckus it was taken down the moment it hit the press that it was being sold at a popular Internet site. But why? I mean, hey, it is funny...isn't it?)

In three weeks we commemorate Yom HaShoah (lit. "The Day of the Holocaust) or as it is known throughout the world "Holocaust Remembrance Day". Jews and non-Jews all over the world commemorate this day. On that day, at 11:00 AM precisely, the wail of a mournful siren is heard throughout Israel for two eternal minutes. Souls of six million children, women and men whisper to us as we stand with heads bowed listening to that siren. We listen. We listen and utter the Kaddish for those six million slaughtered human beings. We remember. We burn what the swastika bearers did to our people and the rest of humanity not 60 years ago into our collective and singular conscience. We feel the tears flow. The sorrow. We look to blame God and the ministering angels - asking God - "Why?"

And in the words of the Kaddish we find the frightening truth. We understand that it is not God that wrought this destruction - but a portion of mankind who for a moment in history traded places with Satan himself, and with a swastika emblazoned as a symbol upon their hearts went out on a rampage of hate and murder such as the world never knew.

It was our silence that allowed this to occur. The silence of those who saw the swastika and listened to exactly what a monster was going to do - and said "That is just a scare tatic. The Jews are being made into a scapegoat just to unite the Aryan nation. No one is going to mass murder an entire people."

And when it was over, even while they had seen the ashes of the concentration camp crematoria rain down upon their villages and cities for years; even while every morning they awoke to the smell of burning flesh; even while they stayed silent - they claimed:

"We did not know!"
"We did not believe it was happening."
"We were only following orders."

When that siren goes off on Holocaust Remembrance Day it is a reminder. We do not want to reclaim the swastika. We do not want to purify it. How does one purge the blood of millions from the symbol that caused the murder? How does one forget it?

We remember. We burn into our hearts and minds. We teach our children. And their children. And we will teach our great-great-great great grandchildren to remember. Because if we fail in that task - if the Kaddish ever fails to pass over our lips - if we choose to forgive and forget - if we allow ourselves to become complacent - if for one moment in time we choose to ignore statements of hate which do not belong upon the lips of civilized man - it will happen again.

So you must excuse us when someone normal sees a swastika, then reads lines about Hitler being "a funky dude" and "an underachiever" - we don't break out in laughter at the great awesome wit. You will excuse us please, if we refuse to forget. You will excuse us if we get a wee bit "over-emotional" at such things. You will excuse us if we see the mob mentality take over - and the swastika come out once again in all its loathsome glory - to antagonize; to bite; to remind us; to make us shiver with fear in the night. You will excuse us when we say "Never Again".

Silence Is Not An Option.

Previous Posts In This Series:

Posted On: Cobwebs Of The Mind

Monday, March 12, 2007

Help! I Have A Fire In My Kitchen Wins 2007 Best Food Blog Award!

Well it is not Cobwebs Of The Mind, but I am proud to announce that Help! I Have A Fire In My Kitchen, the blog I run on cooking and recipes has reached a plateau. The first post in Help! I Have A Fire In My Kitchen was on Nov. 8th 2006 and it made it to the finalists in the WebLog Awards. Well the results were announced today and I just got them and am shocked! Help! I Have A Fire In My Kitchen has won the Webbies - WebLog 2007 Awards as the Best Food Blog!

Webbies - WebLog 2007 Awards as the Best Food Blog!

All I can say is thank you to all those who helped and voted and thank you to all those who submit recipes.

But this is just a short post, thanking everyone for making Help! I Have A Fire In My Kitchen the choice for Best Food Weblog at the 7th Annual Weblog Awards!.

And if you are into recipes, humorous stories and just an overall good time, visit Help! I Have A Fire In My Kitchen. Glad to have you!

Posted On: Cobwebs Of The Mind