How Are They For

Month: November, 2012

zaytoun: a call for the nonviolent liberation of the palestinian people by the palestinian people

I have written this with the help of some Palestinian friends, and believe it to be the only option left the nation of Palestine. We have all of us, citizens of the world, been too long lost and taken advantage of by the powers that seek to rob all of man of its humanity. I hope there rings in this second draft something that rings of truth.

Zaytoun

A call for the nonviolent liberation of the Palestinian people by the Palestinian people

It is our belief that the end of the Israeli Occupation of Palestine can only come when the Palestinian people unite under a single banner of nonviolence. It is our goal to weave and plant this banner in the heart of the Palestinian nation and beckon the winds to keep the banner waving.

Our fathers’ fathers have grown up in chains and this nation has forgotten what it means to be free. The Palestinian people have died beside the Palestinian people, prisoners in their own homes, wrists and ankles shackled. We would sink if not for the thickness of our earth, Palestine.

Growing up unfree, we have become overaccustomed to the current habit of conflict, a habit that tears holes in our homes, leaving beds empty, and has taken our brothers from beside us and put them behind bars of glass in metal frames where they will live forever after. We have allowed ourselves to accept the methodologies of our enemy and have allowed their weapons to become our weapons.

In chains, we have learned to hate.

In jails, we have learned to anger.

In fear, we have listened to the raining of bullets and the snowing of missiles, the thunder of tanks and the weathers of violence, and conflated them with victory for they were in the hands of our oppressors.

But we have made a great error, for we have confused our enemies with the innocent and have unwittingly surrendered ourselves to harvesting hate for a machine of violence. We have each of us become farmers in the pastures of our souls, planting blood and feeding its fruit to a tireless machine, a worship of hate. It is this machine that we must fight, not its puppets.

When we allow ourselves to hate, we feed a conflict that feeds on our hate, we make it impossible for our people to liberate themselves. For our freedom can only come when the Palestinian people unite under a desire to end conflict, not persist it. When we use violence we call violence upon ourselves and justify a hate that desires the death of all man, a hate that seeks to make us forget that our enemies are human, a hate that seeks to make our enemies for that we are human.

It is our belief that the liberation of our people will come when we DECIDE no longer to be occupied, for in submitting to the dialogue of violence we are implicitly supporting the reign of the occupation over us. It is our belief that we must use the only true resource left the Palestinian people: our bodies and our wills. We must force the Israeli people to recognize that they have been fooled into thinking that we are unlike them. We must force the world to remember that the Palestinian people are.

We must force them to see that our government has been purchased by our oppressor and that our olive trees are being stolen, our streets are being destroyed, and our nation is turning into a series of islands in a sea of death. We are disappearing slowly and by reacting against our misfortune with violence, we play into the system that facilitates our disappearance. We erase ourselves.

Previous attempts at wresting the Palestinian people free have failed because they were dependent upon broken systems, and did not recognize the possibility of the Palestinian people freeing themselves, they have relied on politics and weapons that do not work in the hands of the oppressed. They have been unclear in their goals, unclear in their methodologies and have been so numerous and separate that no one cause has been able to achieve the critical mass necessary to act in concert.

Our goal is clear: The end of the Israeli Occupation of Palestine, which we define as follows.

I. The nation of Palestine will be demarcated by the lines drawn in 1949 and will be constituted of the what are now known as the West Bank and the Gaza Strip. We cannot identify our goal as the destruction of the nation of Israel, for we must be the first to vie for compromise or else the circle of violence will never end. Unmoving, solid compromise.

II. The people of Palestine will be given to governing themselves, exercising complete political, social, and economic autonomy insofar as is possible in the world today.

III. All walls, physical and otherwise, meant solely to constrain, inhibit, force, and in any way discomfort the Palestinian people must be torn down, for they were constructed by the machine of hate so that our enemy would not see us our eyes and noses and arms and legs and instead envision us as invisible animals. Robbed of sight, we confuse the innocent for our enemies.

IV. All Palestinians abroad who have been displaced by the aggression and violence of the Israeli nation must be given express Right of Return, and the cost must be covered by both the nations of Palestine and Israel, as a gesture of future peace and a moving past from years of blind oppression.

V. Once the nation of Palestine is established, all Israeli settlers will be given the choice to either return to Israel or to continue to live their lives as our brothers and sisters, as Palestinian Jews.

VI. East Jerusalem will be the capital of the nation of Palestine.

Our intentions are fair and our goals are just, and the world will see us as people, and as invisible animals no longer. We will achieve these goals with peace and with nonviolence, for they are the only tools left to us and the only tools of a truly just and honest cause.

We cannot let the Occupation allow us to give up, for that is its goal. To rob us of hope and to convince us that because we do not have as many weapons of violence as our enemy, we cannot win. After years of unsuccessful combat, those of our fathers and mothers and grandfathers and grandmothers who still live have allowed themselves to believe that the occupation cannot end. But that is because they fight an illusion and have had no true enemy. Our enemy is not Israel, it is the power of hate that has taught Israel to dehumanize us and consider us their enemy. And we must fight that power by choosing.

The Palestinian people must choose no longer to live under Occupation.

The Palestinian people must choose no longer to live a life of illusory stability, for the longer we wait to stop the machine, the closer we come to the complete disappearance of the nation of Palestine and its people.

Our Methodology is clear. The Palestinian people must stop cooperating. The Palestinian people from Hebron to Nablus to Jenin, from olive tree to olive tree, must turn off their lights, turn off their cars, shut down their homes, and choose no longer to live under Occupation.

We must, for the first time in history, martyr the entirety of our people with nonviolence. We must forsake food and sight and touch and breath if need be to convince the Israeli people and the world that the Palestinian people are. We must take the power back from the leaders of Palestine and the leaders of Israel who have become voices of the machine of violence, and liberate ourselves.

We must liberate ourselves not from Israel, but from the hate that governs it. We must force the Israeli people to see us as human beings again, we must force them and the people of this world to recognize that we are people, truly people who are cold in the cold and warm in the warm, we desire only the right to plant olives in our own earth and tend them and harvest their fruit and pass these trees to our children.

We must break the rules of war and violence, of global conduct, we must speak in a language that no one has ever heard, a collective voice of peace. We must starve for our freedom, and thirst for our freedom. We must be blind and poor for our freedom because the only way to remind the world and our enemies that we are filled with life is by robbing ourselves of it. We must show them, truly show them, that what they have been fooled into desiring is the death of an entire people. A living loving god-created people.

Palestinians, we must starve for our nation and we must thirst for our freedom.

We have watched man kill itself and hunger itself and strangle itself and the Great Powers of the world have written laws and rules for the global discourse and interchange of the modern human. These laws and rules condemn almost a century of crime perpetrated by the nation of Israel, yet nothing is done. Palestine, this is evidence enough that we cannot trust to the politics and empty words of the united nations of the world, for they create these rules only to protect themselves and legitimize their economic, social, and cultural monopoly of humankind. Palestine, we must cease to grovel at the feet of Presidents and Emperors and Rulers and instead stand hand in hand with the people they claim to serve.

We must appeal to humanity, and bypass the systems of power that seek to melt down the bonds of brotherhood and community to make walls and chains. Palestine, when we turn to violence our people die and the Israeli government is able to steal our land in silence while its people are more and more filled with hate for us, and the eyes of the world are turned not to the injustice of the Occupation but to the injustice of individual missiles and bombs. We may win or lose the small battles of violence, but everyday that we do not band together under a banner of nonviolence, we lose our land, our future, and our hope.

Palestine, we must turn off our lights and turn off our cars and open our doors and open the roofs of our homes to the sky. We must stand unblinking and let the light and air of Allah breathe through us and clear from us the black exhaust that we have breathed in. We must no longer trust to a single voice or a single means to achieve our freedom while we go about our days ignoring the occupation and implicitly supporting our enslavement and the enslavement of our families. We must instead, each and every last one of us fight with our two eyes that were given to us by god. With our two ears that were given to us by god. With our two legs that were given to us by god. With our two arms that were given to us by god open wide and empty palmed and eager not to kill but to emancipate.

Palestine, we will crowd the open air and we will become as a great mass of man and woman and child and when they raise their guns to us we will raise our open arms to them and some of us will die because they will know us only for our violence. But they cannot kill all of us, and we will drown them in a reminder: We are Palestine, we are not terrorists and invisible animals. When your government tells you that we die you cheer because you have forgotten that we breathe. You have forgotten that we love our children also. You have forgotten that we hunger, We are palestine, we are not terrorists and invisible animals.

Palestine, do not be tired by years of defeat, but recognize that they are evidence in the ineffectiveness of violence and the need for Zaytoun.

When they raise their guns and shoot us in our peace the world will watch and they will see the justness of our sorrow, and the Israelis will see the injustice of their governments and they will remember that we are also a people. But we must lead. We must be the first to remember that they too love and hate and hunger and thirst, for there is nothing left for us. Our land is being stolen and our mothers and fathers are becoming tired and the violence of our leaders further endangers our people and our cause, making us into terrorists for the world to continue to condemn and hate. We must be the first to remember and the last to forget that we all of us are filled with oceans of blood and our hearts are as the reflections of the stars on its surface, our dreams the clouds.

There must be one goal and one goal only: the end of the causes of the occupation, the silent, systematic dismantlement of our homeland, and the destruction of the Palestinian people. We must stop relying on others to fight for us, hoping that things will solve themselves. We must unite and liberate now.

This is greater than a movement or a political party or an organization, this is a call to prayer for the future. This is a call to prayer for our children and our families and the memories of our forefathers. This is a call for the collective action of every Palestinian to choose, instantly and perfectly, not to be occupied. Not to be occupied by Israel, not to be occupied by hate, not to be occupied by violence.

God will care for us in our travail, and the people of the world will see us for what we are: the hungry, the thirsty, the forgotten. We are, let us make sure they can never again forget. Let us be visible.

It’s funny, isn’t it? How no one seems to win when people die–

Qaph

After the dust of war started clearing and noise of rockets calmed, three of the four parties involved in Gaza war- and truce-making left satisfied while only one bears the loads of defeat… Hamas claims victory, Israel claims the campaign achieved its target; Morsi’s Egypt is more than happy with its new role on the Middle East political stage, while Palestine the people, land and dream of an independent state fades in the light of current events.

View original post 577 more words

Zaytoun: draft 1

Still much missing but a beginning.

Zaytoun A manifesto for the nonviolent liberation of the palestinian people by the palestinian people

It is our belief that the end of the Israeli Occupation of Palestine can only come when the Palestinian people unite under a single banner of nonviolence. It is our goal to weave and plant this banner in the heart of the Palestinian nation and beckon the winds to keep the banner waving.

Our fathers’ fathers have grown up in chains and this nation has forgotten what it means to be free, the Palestinian people have died beside the Palestinian people prisoners in their own homes wrists and ankles shackled we would sink if not for the thickness of our earth, Palestine.

Growing up unfree, we have become overaccustomed to the current habit of conflict, a habit that tears holes in our homes, leaving beds empty, and has taken our brothers from beside us and put them behind bars of glass in picture frames where they will live forever after. We have allowed ourselves to accept the methodologies of our enemy and have allowed their weapons to become our weapons.

In chains, we have learned to hate.

In jails, we have learned to anger.

In fear, we have listened to the raining of bullets and the snowing of missiles, the thunder of tanks and the weathers of violence, and conflated them with victory for they were in the hands of our oppressors.

But we have made a great error, for we have confused our enemies with the innocent and have unwittingly surrendered ourselves to harvesting hate for a machine of violence. We have each of us become farmers in the pastures of our souls, planting blood and feeding its fruit to a tireless machine, a worship of hate. It is this machine that we must fight, not its puppets.

When we allow ourselves to hate, we feed a conflict that feeds on our hate, we make it impossible for our people to liberate themselves. For our freedom can only come when the Palestinian people unite under a desire to end conflict, not persist it. When we use violence we call violence upon ourselves and justify a hate that desires the death of all man, a hate that seeks to make us forget that our enemies are human, a hate that seeks to make our enemies for that we are human.

It is our belief that the liberation of our people will come when we DECIDE no longer to be occupied, for in submitting to the dialogue of violence we are implicitly supporting the reign of the occupation over us. It is our belief that we must use the only true resource left the Palestinian people: our bodies and our wills. We must force the Israeli people to recognize that they have been fooled into thinking that we are unlike them in our bodies and our hearts. We must force the world to remember that the Palestinian people are.

Our methodology is clear:

As a people, we cannot let the Occupation allow us to give up, for that is its goal. To rob us of hope and to convince us that because we do not have as many weapons of violence as our enemy, we cannot win. After years of unsuccessful combat, those of our fathers and mothers and grandfathers and grandmothers who still live have allowed themselves to believe that the occupation cannot end. But that is because they fight an illusion and have had no true enemy. Our enemy is not Israel, it is the power of hate that has taught Israel to dehumanize us and consider us their enemy. And we must fight that power by choosing.

The Palestinian people must choose no longer to live under Occupation.

The Palestinian people must choose no longer to live a life of illusory stability, for the longer we wait to stop the machine, the closer we come to the complete disappearance of the nation of Palestine and its people.

Our Methodology is clear. The Palestinian people must stop cooperating. The Palestinian people from Hebron to Nablus to Jenin, from olive tree to olive tree, must turn off their lights, turn off their cars, shut down their homes, and choose no longer to live under Occupation.

We must, for the first time in history, martyr the entirety of our people with nonviolence. We must forsake food and sight and touch and breath if need be to convince the Israeli people and the world that the Palestinian people are. We must take the power back from the leaders of Palestine and the leaders of Israel who have become as slaves to the machine of violence, voices of hate, and liberate ourselves.

Palestine, we must turn of our lights and turn off our cars and open our doors and open the roofs of our homes to the sky. We must stand unblinking and let the light and air of Allah breathe through us and clear from us the black exhaust that we have breathed in. We must no longer trust to a single voice or a single means to achieve our freedom while we go about our days ignoring the occupation and implicitly supporting our enslavement and the enslavement of our families. We must instead, each and every last one of us fight with our two eyes that were given to us by god. With our two ears that were given to us by god. With our two legs that were given to us by god. With our two arms that were given to us by god open wide and empty palmed and eager not to kill but to emancipate.

Palestine, we will crowd the open air and we will become as a great mass of man and woman and child and when they raise their guns to us we will raise our open arms to them and some of us will die because they will know us only for our violence. But they cannot kill all of us, and we will drown them in a reminder: We are Palestine, we are not terrorists and animals. When your government tells you that we die you cheer because you have forgotten that we breathe. You have forgotten that we love our children also. You have forgotten that we hunger, We are palestine, we are not terrorists and animals.

Palestine, do not be tired by years of defeat, but recognize that they are evidence in the ineffectiveness of violence and the need for Zaytoun.

When they raise their guns and shoot us in our peace the world will watch and they will see the justness of our cause, and the Israelis will see the injustice of their governments and they will remember that we are also a people. But we must lead. We must be the first to remember that they too love and hate and hunger and thirst, for there is nothing left for us. Our land is being stolen and our mothers and fathers are becoming tired and the violence of our leaders further endangers our people and our cause, making us into terrorists for the world to continue to condemn and hate. We must be the first to remember and the last to forget that we all of us are filled with oceans of blood and our hearts are as the reflections of the stars on its surface, our dreams the clouds.

There must be one goal and one goal only: the end of the causes of the occupation, the silent, systematic dismantlement of our homeland, and the destruction of the Palestinian people. We must stop relying on others to fight for us, hoping that things will solve themselves. We must unite and liberate now.

We must remember and force them to remember that we have been lied to by the power of hate and violence, and that our bodies are a surface of pain and pleasure and we will use this surface as the only tool we have left.

This is greater than a movement or a political party or an organization, this is a call to prayer for the future. This is a call to prayer for our children and our families and the memories of our forefathers. This is a call for the collective action of every Palestinian to choose, instantly and perfectly, not to be occupied. Not to be occupied by Israel, not to be occupied by hate, not to be occupied by violence.

God will care for us in our travail, and the people of the world will see us for what we are: the hungry, the thirsty, the forgotten. We are, let us make sure they can never again forget.

The Yeshua army

Posted on November 21, 2012 |

Please pray immediately for the 16 wounded in a terror attempt in the center of Tel Aviv. A bus exploded and police is still looking for the terrorist. Pray that he or she is found ASAP. Pray for much protection over Israel as many Arabs can hurt from within so the danger of having a terror war escalate while we are fighting with Hamas in Gaza is big. Pray for swift recovery over the wounded!

Pray for Israel’s response to be confident and determined and no more hesitancy. Psalm 91, Psalm 83, Psalm 2

View original post

What if instead of birds in trees there were tiny robots with eyes that knew my name. If instead of clouds there were vaportrails. If instead of silence there was buzzing. The images I am packed with of what is real and what is unreal, the things that constitute the sounds and shapes and tastes that I use in metaphors objects of my unconscious that closed eyed i believe surround me; the world being made of clouds and air and earth a science of god. the world being made of violence and the sounds of explosions far away and uncertainty, a constant chill a science of god. to live in comfort to live

In Gaza

The drones are at it, that grating sound of multiple UAVs (“drones”) circling in the sky, the disharmony of their buzzes clashing into one’s psyche, ramping up levels of frustration and terror. And since the 2008-2009 Israeli massacre of the Gaza Strip (killing over 1500 when all had succumbed to their Israeli army-inflicted wounds) I had still heard the zananas‘ whine, but it had been a while since their presence was so continuous, abrasive and terrifying.

When on Nov 14 the Zionist army assassinated Hamas’ Ahmad al-Jabari and body guard, I wasn’t in Gaza, nor earlier on Nov 5th when an Israeli soldier shot and killed a mentally disabled man in his early twenties on land near the border, nor the days in between when Israeli soldiers killed 13 year old soccer-playing Ahmed Abu Daqqa, then days later shelled a mourning tent killing 4 and injuring at…

View original post 1,530 more words

break glass pull handle

masala chai makes my piss smell like incense, holding myself and dizzy with it I stand in a froth of me it would be easy to die surrounded by friends equally as willing to die there is an instant when you feel truly as completely a thing of machine, a wholing distance in teargas clouds like masala chai gloam there is a great power in standing beside a friend, a glory to battle that we’ve tried with reason to deglorify sense in nonsense or a structure of nonsense, the things we believe the images we are packed with of people fucking each other a contiguous human fungus of sex, missiles that seek heat and poison gases that can taste fear that move through the air hungry panting like animal; Palestinians do not laugh the way we laugh in the west, rocking onto the balls of our feet collecting the laughter in the backs of our throats holding it there and each of us bubbling out of our mouths filling the air with a violence of laughter boiling soup we splutter

The missiles are good. They force the Palestinians not to forget that they are occupied, they undermine the occupation, the silence of the occupation the slow snow drop battle that teaches everyone here, “you raise your hand to your master and your master will staple your hand to a wall, sit the fuck down,” 10 year old boys with palestinian flags tied around their necks with rocks in your hands what do you fight for? For your family, your father who cries; here it is not unmanly to cry to come home at the end of a day and remember the family you’ve lost and not to eat dinner not to watch tv not to fuck your wife but cry, spend maybe 3 or 4 hours after work, “ahmad i’d love to sit and chat but i gotta get home. gotta turn on the waterworks, you know, gotta let it all out, gotta wet myself and i have to make sure my children see, i have to stifle my tears in my hands try to push them back into my eyes, try to keep my mouth moist though it dries with the sobbing, it’s funny that isn’t it? how dry your mouth becomes when you cry, all that moisture… All that moisture you think I’d be able to keep my mouth moist! Hah! Ahmad! Ahmad? Ahmad– Sense in nonsense the sticks that hold up the sky, the machines that keep us alive, the gods that built us, the metaphysics that are as eggbeaters how we churn, how we Love in unlove the violent nuance of conglomeration of people on people a contiguous fungus of fuck, the things we believe the missiles that hang above us unknowing the ways we wake up and fall asleep and fear and laugh and cover up our filth and hold ourself and– violence and nonviolence how gray everything becomes when the heart remembers but the brain forgets but the body acts out or the heart acts out and the body forgets and– To convince. To know what’s right but to be against a machine of power that leaks hate on the floor sticky

Does it matter that israel is villainizing itself further? What happens when the tide of media changes and no one cares again? Whose hand is being forced with these hand-me-down rockets; like always a sense of waiting for something to happen but not at all sure what; someone must always die be stabbed in the eyes and raped and defiled aborted by blunt force, right? That’s how it goes–The things we care about briefly, i would die here if i only knew how how hard it is to kill yourself right how much meditation how many mechanisms there are to protect us ambulances and bandages and gauzes and people on watch always, a society whose sole purpose is to make sure that people don’t just kill themselves–violence in nonviolence, love your enemy

hawwara

a day of dappled seaborne clouds

Running the pictures into the spaces around my eyes, that is, feeding them moist careful not to papercut my fringes: “here, more pictures, brain. More dead, more children have you noticed how discolored they become?” Let me describe in brief the colors of palestinian children as I’ve seen them:

Light brown
Dark brown
Milk brown
Dusk milk brown
Like soft cardboard, not quite so dark as wet cardboard but maybe slightly moist cardboard?

Not the color of dust, of blue dust paper dust, not the color of drowning of death, man, the things our life force does it colors us.

In a discussion last night in a room full of Palestinians and Foreigners, “why does Hamas fight?:”

A palestinian man, “foreigner boy, sweet seraph let me tell you one thing, give me your hand,

for 14 years I have lived in hell. Now it is their turn.

What do you say?

What do you say, fuck someone;;tell me how you rationalize nonviolence in the face of so much violence, it’s true: violence breeds violence… People here are Proud of Hamas, not necessarily supportive, but proud that For Once Palestine has a word in edgewise, “now they attack and think we die but now we shoot back, now we show that we do not go without fighting wehde wehde wataniye

It makes sense. It’s symbolic, it’s pride. At the big protest in Nablus, at one of the checkpoints, we marched 4 miles from Nablus and collected with the filaments of others and a group of people about 400 strong [here I stop using “we” and use “they”], they cheered and cursed and lit things on fire. The Israelis, the IDF stood on the hillside far off and watched and eventually begun shooting tear gas and concussion grenades…

There was one moment that I loved: a couple of the protestors begun shooting fireworks at the hillside, for lack of real weapons they filled the sky with fireworks by daylight and everyone cheered pulsing, the touching of nonviolence and violence and symbolism really dusted on my nerves, fingertip plucking on my nerves, you know? It was beautiful and ironic and so completely symbolic of this conflict. Fireworks against guns, fighting and screaming for the sake of screaming for the sake of not knowing what else to do. Knowing in your heart of hearts that something is wrong but never having known freedom to put a name to it,

It’s deeper than hate, it’s fatigue, you know? It’s senselessness it’s watching movies of the beautiful White people in beautiful White People cars free, I want free, I want beautiful white people muscles and beautiful white people cars and beautiful white people homes, i want beautiful white people christmas and beautiful white people thanksgiving, I don’t want this shit life anymore, fireworks in the daytime and blonde eye blue haired israelis shitting on my father telling him to get out of his car in intentionally broken arabic as if my language were a very small bird in a very small cage and they hold that cage and crush it slowly until the bird and the cage are as one, its feathers sticking out its bars sticking out its beak snapped, it is like that! It is like that image of a bird and a cage bloodying into One, the image I just shared with you, these blonde eyed children spitting on my children, shaming me in front of my children, “get out of the car please,” “spread your arms please,” “spread your legs please,” and they don’t deign to touch me they push me with their boots, everyday I am shamed–How do you tell them not to hate?

And elsewhere the bombs fall and the bombs fall and the bombs fall and the bombs fall Israel releases “defense” statements and everyone knows it’s wrong but no one does anything and we collect ineffectually yelling and cheering with no intention no purpose

I understand the violence,

What do you say to pictures of dead children, what do you tell a woman who’s lost her husband and 3 of her sons? What do you tell the people of this nation who’ve been shoved and kicked and spit on, their water sources peed in, their shepherd families abused and mistreated, How do you tell them that nonviolence is the answer? How do you tell them that fighting makes fighting that the IDF only PRETENDS to be afraid to garner global and local support, that these pass-me-down rockets stand no chance against helicopters and jets and drones and billions upon billions of dollars, how do you tell these moist cardboard children not to fight–?

The Palestinians are proud to be able to fight and sick of being hurt…

bloodied kids, what do you do with these images? Hate is not the answer. Boycott life, boycott life! Stop fighting, stop living stop everything! Boycott life, choose not to go on, boycott life don’t fight god — lie down, beautiful, old man put your cane down, unpack your pockets of papers and crushed cigarette and place them before you and sit and wait, and young boy with violence in your eyes like a crushed caged bird bleeding tap twice and let it out, boycott life, sweet angel sweet seraph open the windows and let the wind in and don’t forget you live for this wind, you live for the days that come after the days, you live for tomorrows and yesterdays and mornings and sadness, you live to live, little angel little chained angel when you see the rocket coming, touching brushing up against its highest point like a dolphin going up for air, dipping out of earthspace for the hate that vibrates in superspace smile for it comes for you it burns for you and it comes for you sweet boy with your eyes like split figs in the chocolate milk of the rest of you your fingers like dripping so small and fragile, smile angel for the rocket comes for you, the missile comes to shatter you into what you were originally, boycott life old man and young man and medium aged lady with your eyes glued open, link your arms and your knees, link your eyelashes and your fingers tongue around tongue and looking up at the missiles that come that touch at the surface of our planet to come back filled heavy with anger,

angel baby sweet seraph touching beautiful creature of god, hyperphysical recreation of the digitally sound Eat the pain and — Wait for what comes after.

What comes after after after after after after…

How do you speak nonviolence to the angry,

how do you make the hate go away when it is so justified?

Someone, tell me. tell me and i’ll do it. tell me what words to speak and I will speak them completely. If they cannot be spoken and only blown, then i will force my lips around ears and eyes and noses, mouths and assholes dicks and vaginas and i’ll blow as hard as I can, if they cannot be blown or spoken but only bled then i will slice at all the places of me and lie on the ground and roll a red carpet of nonviolence dripping through the slices and if it cannto be spoken or blown or sliced but only fallen then i will run around this city this country with hooks on strings and unbeknownst to everyone hook them to beltloops and earloops and hanging lowerlips and the little space between fingers, i will run weeping through the teargas clouds that are filled with chemical rainbows and tie strings to everyone and go to the tallest mountain in the world and pull and pull and pull until they are all poised a giant ball of squirming, some people beginning to suffocate and i will let go

another day

It’s not people that are bad it’s power. It’s Hamas and the IDF and government; it’s aid money and support money and weapons money; it’s not people. The Israeli’s hate because they are taught to hate, the Palestinians hate because they are taught to hate and I do not blame people, I do not blame people for hating for choosing to look at one side over the other, people are small and timid and weak and let the priests tell them what God says instead of reading it for themselves, they close their eyes more tightly when asked to open them more widely, they have been frightened into forgetting how to see and how to think for themselves,

One must renounce the bad taste of wishing to agree with many people. “Good” is no longer good when one’s neighbour takes it into his mouth. And how could there be a “common good”! The expression contradicts itself; that which can be common is always of small value. In the end things must be as they are and have always been—the great things remain for the great, the abysses for the profound, the delicacies and thrills for the refined, and, to sum up shortly, everything rare for the rare.
Beyond Good and Evil, 41

We are inundated with imagery upholstered to infiltrate our deepest sympathies: power sways and maintains itself and only acts when its supremacy is endangered. And power is not political parties, it is not even big companies, it is the veneer. The super-necessary top-most layer of activity; it is not a single person or a series of peoples but a vesperous mist that takes silent and instant account of “muslim voters” and “jewish voters” and “sugar consumers,” it is ceaselessly and innermostly hyper-conscious of the being of all man and adjusts itself accordingly. It moves to protect itself and cannot be dismantled.

In the static space of the architect, he might’ve used a double integral now and then, early in his career, to find volumes under surfaces whose equations are known — masses, moments, centers of gravity. But it has been years since he’s had to do with anything that basic…in the dynamic space of the living Rocket, the double integral has a different meaning. To integrate here is to operate on a rate of change so that time falls away: change is stilled….’Meters per second’ will integrate to ‘meters’. The moving vehicle is frozen, in space, to become architecture, and timeless. It was never launched. It will never fall.
gravity’s rainbow, pynchon

there are people sleeping in bomb shelters tonight

packed into jars joints snapped backwards cheeks and knees pushed against the glass people are pushed into the earth, the jar turning as it fits itself into the earth.

There are people sleeping in bomb shelters tonight, holding each other their wet coming to the surface, they stick to each other sweaty and teary and waxy the earth around them turns moist and fertile,

I am ashamed at how ineffectual I am. How clear, how clear, let me be clear about clear: skyclear waterclear glassclear, rainbowclear cloudclear dirtclear gritclear, clearclear, habibi, Clear Clear. I am Clear Clear how easy it is to stop this shit. I am ashamed at how ineffectual I am, ashamed at how easy it is for everyone to hate everyone because they speak a different language have a different nose and different skins, I am ashamed at how easy it is for me to see: the jews are not evil, the palestinians are not evil, no one is wrong and no one is right. The answer, it’s never been tried before, stop hating. Right? Stop letting your parents and your governments, the people who are older and more powerful than you, teach you to hate for their wars, their profits. Stop letting their power invest in itself because that’s what power does, don’t you see? Power preserves itself and it preserves itself by labeling enemies and filling you with a need to be protected and providing that protection have you seen the pictures of bombs and missiles being shot into the air how beautiful they are? Their smokestreams are filled with rainbows (bows of rain! like opening a door you are filled with an unconscious expectation of what lies behind it: beds and clothes or pots and pans, but these doors, these doors that missiles spring from are filled with Bows of Rain, when angels cum they shudder.

When angels cum, they shudder, and hairs on a women’s thighs like tiny worms, these missiles come from angels, habibi, when angels come, they shudder, and they are not made from the same metals we cook with they are made from hyper light and hyper intouch metals, metals that don’t feel the air that can Fly, right? That take up the light of the sun not in a reflecting but in a drinking and being saturated with and fill the air with a great thirstful sucking, Dear Hamas please kill for me and my safety. Dear IDF please kill for me and my safety, please fuck them, please take that brown man, yes that one there, take him and first break his teeth so he cannot bite me anymore. Please bend back each one of his fingers and snap them so they cannot strangle my throat as I have seen them, yes, now please cut open his eyes, he is undeserving of such a beautiful perfect machine as I have, these eyes placed into me by god as a child I protect them in my sockets and grow them day by day they are mine i water them when i blink with a thin sheen of tear, now please smash him in his unseeing bring down on him the fury of your might please fuck him, please pierce him with you, please protect me.

Please, protect me, father, there are people sleeping in bomb shelters tonight, I am frightened. I am filled not with hate but love, so please hate for me. Hate the terrorist man, hate the yehudi man, hate them for me, take them all up in hands and crush them together to reveal to me their own wet surface beneath the dusts, empty them of their oceans, and their organs that are boats and their perfect eyes,

I am ashamed that people are sleeping in bomb shelters tonight, ashamed at how easy it is for me to see why people build walls around people, because it’s easier to rain bombs on them, easier to turn them into zoopeople patrol their ins and outs and control their population by bombshot zoopeople but never so much as to enter into the recordbooks, what are 5000 dead arab men they are not men, silly! They are zoopeople, see how they shit and fuck in cages? They are not women, silly, they are zoopeople playing with zootoys and drinking zoowater that is scummed and scraped from the caves of the inside of the earth zoowater thick with crystal? It’s not millions, just a few at a time, clog them with generators of smoke, machines that steal air and replace it with fog, and pack everyone into jars and snap them along their joints to fit like tongue depressors,

Don’t you see, how wrong it all is? How wrong it all is how wrong it all is how wrong it all is– stop letting your parents dehumanize your enemies and instead humanize them, realize that they are filled with breath, they are more than how many soldiers they have, how many guns they have, they are people. God, don’t you see? They are actually People, not figments of satan put on the earth to threaten you and your family, but people. Their body is a surface of pain, a surface of pleasure, don’t you–? Isn’t it–? There are people sleeping in bomb shelters this night, there are missiles in the air that drink the light of sun and beneath them sing the imams calling the arab man to prayer, pray for your gods, pray for your gods they will protect you eloah akbar