Shell-shocked over Worlds Response to Israel

I’m always shell-shocked over how the world responds to Israel when it comes to self preservation. I mean, is it only a group of Americans that can see the over reacting and setting up of this ongoing crusade the world has over toppling Israel?

For example: It has been proven, beyond clarity (or beyond a doubt), so the United States Government says, and South Korea, that North Korea has torpedoed a military ship (an act of war), killing 46-soldiers. It has taken two-months to condemn North Korea, and the United Nations’ has yet to condom them, or point a finger at North Korea. Everything over that matter is in slow motion still.

Now let's look at Israel’s blocking of the so called, indorsed Hamas flotilla, convoy of freedom for food for Gaza, where they gathered a hand full of ships, and Turkish and Europeans to bust a Military blockade of Israel, after being warned a month in advance, pulse escorted by Israel ships, not to go beyond a point, and still remained in defiance, and less than nine hours after the incident that took nine lives, and wounded Israel soldiers, a reaction from the UN Secretary-General Ban Ki-Moon comes condemning Israel, acting as if he is shell-shocked over the matter, when in essence everybody knew what was the potential in the case. It leads me to believe he is no better than the North Korean dictatorship.

Why do we keep getting these UN Secretary-Generals in the UN, who is so biased? When they condemn Hamas it is with a little stick, when it is Israel, it is with a heavy bat.

Palestine Hamas, got what they wanted, an international headlines and sympathy from most of the world, at the expense of nine lives. The free Gaza Movement, IHH, run by Hamas has no Muslim brotherhood; there is only a means to an end. Yet they make believe they are of the same fiber and mindset.

The Century of Millions

The Century of Millions This is the era, the century of Millions, the 21st Century. When we talk, we talk in millions such as: the ship I just sailed on is six-million pounds. The moves nowadays cost between 1 and 100 million of dollars. We think of space in millions of miles, and our ancestors of being millions of years old. We want to make a million dollars in our lifetime, or perhaps in one check. We talk of millions of people in big cities, and millions of kilowatts to light that city up. And the armed forces of being a million or two strong. When you get three-million air miles you get a gift, when you get the Nobel Prize a million dollars, if it is not a million, it’s not worthy of talking about. The movie star gets $20-million per movie now, and the football player the same. Actually, by the mid half of the 21st century, I think it will be in billions, everything in billons. When I was a kid it was in thousands, and I suppose my grandfather saw life in hundreds. What will my grandchildren calculate life in, perhaps the trillions, our National Dept, is close to that now, perhaps by 2060, it will be normal to have a debt of such an enormous amount, if indeed we last that long.

The Suicide Way-house (a short story)

The Suicide Way-house (or, “Going On!”) “You can’t go back, no way, therefore you must go on, go on with pathetic eagerness, if you must, if that’s what it takes! But go on you must…” said Old Miss Wayfarer, giving the young woman a helpless look, a forever look on her face.

“I want to go back,” she said. “I left my little girl in the car all alone.”

Annabelle Hague had seemingly stumbled upon the wayside motel (the sign read although ‘Way-house’), how she came upon it, she didn’t know, and Old Miss Wayfarer boldly and frankly said, “Mercy, suicides can’t go back, you all seem to travel alone, and your little girl will be taken care of, don’t worry about her, she’ll be fine, they always are. They all want to go back when they get here. They’re all waiting to go back, how insane. So many of you folks stop here on your way, and I tell them like I’m telling you, you can’t go back, you can only go on, although sometimes the other ones commit suicide, to catch up with their loved ones, like you but that’s far and in-between, in all the time I’ve been here I’ve only seen a few like that. That’s the plain truth in a nutshell.”

Annabelle thought for a moment about what the old proprietress had said, “I can wait,” she told the old woman—“yes, that’s it, my daughter will catch up with me. I know she’ll want to join me, and when she comes she’ll have to know where I am, and if I go on, I’ll miss her, this is the first motel I’ve seen on the road. She’s just like me.”

“But you can see over by the hearth in the other room Mrs. Annabelle, I have a full house, please don’t ask to stay here and wait, just go on, that’s better for everybody.”

Annabelle had been looking over at the dozen or so guests, or perhaps by now they were residents, pacing to and fro from the hearth to the windows, looking into and out of the windows perhaps for their loved ones—their faces to appear, a glimpse into the future or beyond, and in the red hot flames of the fire—they looked. All having long hair, haggard looking, as if they’d been there for years. Annabelle had had a forlorn look on her face for a moment—when she had first arrive that is, but an all new expression had filled it now, hope!

“There, there now!” cried one of the voices by the hearth, she had looked into the fire, and thought she had seen a loved one.

“Perhaps now and then,” said the old lady, “they think they see a loved one, so they stick around the fire, or look out the windows, but I doubt they really do, but they all think they do, and they are afraid if they go on, they’ll never see them again. The seasons never change around here much, it’s seems always windy and cold.”

Truth or fiction, it didn’t matter to Annabelle what the old woman was saying, if there was hope, then that was better than nothing. Annabelle had formed a new composure, a new outlook, the old woman noticed, likened to all the others when they first heard someone say they saw some loved one from the past.

“Well,” said Annabelle, “it’s settled, I’m staying. If only for a little while, then I’ll go on, as you say I should, if you don’t mind.”

The old lady nodded her head ‘yes,’ knowing if she didn’t she’d be pestering her for eternity, although she was not please one bit, but once hope got a hold of the passerby’s, and they got to missing their loved ones, and regretted what they had done, there was no way of convincing them to go on, to go forward, they were in-between, and that is where most wanted to remain.

“Is there anything you’d like, Miss Annabelle?” she asked.

“Nah!” she said, as she hurriedly went to join the group pacing about the fireplace. No 707/ (11-01-2010)