(For more info about Eden Abergil, see article below: "O Abergil...".)
#5: Abergil's political views are so far right that she makes him look like Kadima by comparison -- maybe next election he can broker a deal with them.
#4: Someone has actually heard of her.
#3: Appointing her to any position would be such a blunder that it would take the spotlight off the corruption charges against Lieberman currently under investigation.
#2: Abergil is the only known Israeli to be even more tactless than Deputy Foreign Minister Danny Ayalon. If that doesn't sound like diplomat material I don't know what does.
#1: She's the only right-wing Israeli who can manage a sit-down, let alone a photo-op, with Palestinians.
Any other suggestions?
Saturday, August 21, 2010
Friday, August 20, 2010
O Abergil, Saint of the Silly
Eden Abergil has caused quite the stir with her Facebook snapshots posing in front of Palestinian prisoners Abu-Ghraib style. Already a smattering of groups have popped up decrying her actions in a typically Facebook way: "Tous unis conte la barbare Eden Abergil (We are all united against the barbarian Eden Abergil)", "I Hate Eden Abergil", "Eden Abergil- Demon", "Eden [sic] Aberjil Sucks", and "Eden Aberjil, Verguenza para la Humanidad (Eden Aberjil)". Such declarations of disgust, some bordering on hatred, are commonplace for Facebookfolk. What is surprising (aside from the fact that there is one group, 1,500 or so strong in support of the woman) is that no one, not even the Israeli Army, has simply dismissed her immoral actions as those of an immature dolt whose scope of foresight is limited to what she can put up on her Facebook page for the amusement of friends. She is undoubtedly and undeniably a complete ignoramus. Her statements on Facebook annunciate a primitive, brutish outlook ("I would gladly kill Arabs-- even slaughter them") typical of football hooligans and stultified post-lobotomy patients. Any conscience she was meant to possess must have been tossed out with her frontal lobes or washed down with the grain alcohol her mother drank while pregnant.
The Israeli public, in light of these pictures and the disgraceful actions of one of its (thankfully now former) soldiers, should denounce Eden and make it abundantly clear that she is neither representative of the standard nor the norm of Israel or its armed forces.
Abergil's pictures inevitably churned up the debate, once more, about the occupation, the Israeli army, and either's deleterious effects on Israeli society. Rather than delve into these hot topics (here are some links to articles discussing them: http://sachim.tumblr.com/, Who's Right, the IDF or Abergil?, It's all too easy for Israeli rights groups to call the IDF's bluff) I will take the time to express my unceremonious distaste for this silly sow, her seemingly unsurpassed stupidity, and her senseless despicable, unsanctioned acts.
Here is her original Facebook posting with its responses. The highlighted title to the album reads "The army...the most beautiful time of my life :)". Considering what I've heard about army service, that is not saying much about the quality of her life. Perhaps it was a step up from eating paint chips and living in a cardboard box under high-tension power lines, who am I to say.
Her friend, Adi Tal, remarks that she is sexiest this way, referring to Ms. Abergil's posed fawning over a bound and blindfolded prisoner. I must say that I agree: this picture makes the wretch on the left look vaguely desirable because the man on the right is within ten feet of her. Unfortunately, he is bound and blindfolded, suggesting that such proximity was not only against his will, but that he has no idea what kind of deranged pillock is next to him. Ms. Abergil, I hope you do look him up on Facebook and tag him so that he can be thoroughly revolted by the other pictures of you (and not only for the humiliation you caused him and everything you stand for).
Ms. Abergil, I hope you've learned a lesson: don't post incriminating pictures on Facebook that make you-- and more importantly your whole country-- look bad, and take a minute to weigh the consequences of your actions. Everyone else out there, I wish I could say she is a wholly isolated incident, but she is not (see the Magnes Zionist's article on the matter). Nevertheless, know that Eden Abergil is not representative of Israel, the IDF, or Israelis. She is, in fact, the Israeli patron saint of bad taste, myopia, and tactlessness.
The Israeli public, in light of these pictures and the disgraceful actions of one of its (thankfully now former) soldiers, should denounce Eden and make it abundantly clear that she is neither representative of the standard nor the norm of Israel or its armed forces.
Abergil's pictures inevitably churned up the debate, once more, about the occupation, the Israeli army, and either's deleterious effects on Israeli society. Rather than delve into these hot topics (here are some links to articles discussing them: http://sachim.tumblr.com/, Who's Right, the IDF or Abergil?, It's all too easy for Israeli rights groups to call the IDF's bluff) I will take the time to express my unceremonious distaste for this silly sow, her seemingly unsurpassed stupidity, and her senseless despicable, unsanctioned acts.
Her friend, Adi Tal, remarks that she is sexiest this way, referring to Ms. Abergil's posed fawning over a bound and blindfolded prisoner. I must say that I agree: this picture makes the wretch on the left look vaguely desirable because the man on the right is within ten feet of her. Unfortunately, he is bound and blindfolded, suggesting that such proximity was not only against his will, but that he has no idea what kind of deranged pillock is next to him. Ms. Abergil, I hope you do look him up on Facebook and tag him so that he can be thoroughly revolted by the other pictures of you (and not only for the humiliation you caused him and everything you stand for). Ms. Abergil, I hope you've learned a lesson: don't post incriminating pictures on Facebook that make you-- and more importantly your whole country-- look bad, and take a minute to weigh the consequences of your actions. Everyone else out there, I wish I could say she is a wholly isolated incident, but she is not (see the Magnes Zionist's article on the matter). Nevertheless, know that Eden Abergil is not representative of Israel, the IDF, or Israelis. She is, in fact, the Israeli patron saint of bad taste, myopia, and tactlessness.
Sunday, August 8, 2010
Something completely different
In tune with my eclectic (or so I am told) taste in music, I stumbled upon an emerging new artist by the name of Christopher Tin. His album, "Calling All Dawns," was released last year but never made its way to my computer until today. The album's concept is multilayered and fascinating: three cycles corresponding to day, night, and dawn. Each one of the twelve tracks is sung in a different language and joined by an orchestral accompaniment.
Beside the wonder of hearing each language's unique cadence, Tin somehow manages to seamlessly link each song to the next in such an elegant manner as to make each language flow into the next. It may not seem impressive, but considering that the twelve languages are as diverse as Swahili, Japanese, Mandarin, Portugese, French, Latin, Irish Gaelic, Polish, Hebrew, Farsi, Sanskrit, and Maori, Tin's feat is truly incomparable, certainly unparalleled.
The opening track, "Baba Yetu," a moving rendition of the Lord's Prayer in Swahili, is familiar to anyone who has played Civilization IV (it's a song so impressive, they synced the Dubai Fountain to it, check out the link). Although the briefest of the twelve tracks, the Hebrew song "Hayom Kadosh" (Today is Holy) is an adaptation of part of Nehemiah 8:10:
His closing track is the one I wish to close with here. Its lyrics have a magical, almost otherworldly ring to them imbued by the majesty of the Maori language. The song, "Kia Hora Te Marino,"is a Maori farewell that, in its entirety, reads:
Don't take my word for it, check out Tin's album yourself.
Beside the wonder of hearing each language's unique cadence, Tin somehow manages to seamlessly link each song to the next in such an elegant manner as to make each language flow into the next. It may not seem impressive, but considering that the twelve languages are as diverse as Swahili, Japanese, Mandarin, Portugese, French, Latin, Irish Gaelic, Polish, Hebrew, Farsi, Sanskrit, and Maori, Tin's feat is truly incomparable, certainly unparalleled.
The opening track, "Baba Yetu," a moving rendition of the Lord's Prayer in Swahili, is familiar to anyone who has played Civilization IV (it's a song so impressive, they synced the Dubai Fountain to it, check out the link). Although the briefest of the twelve tracks, the Hebrew song "Hayom Kadosh" (Today is Holy) is an adaptation of part of Nehemiah 8:10:
"כִּי-קָדוֹשׁ הַיּוֹם, לַאֲדֹנֵינוּ; וְאַל-תֵּעָצֵבוּ"
"...For today is holy to our lord; do not grieve..."Tin's adaptation of biblical verse tastefully employs instruments traditionally associated with biblical Israel: flutes, drums, and strings. As the opening track for the third cycle, dawn, symbolic of rebirth and renewal, "Hayom Kadosh" is also an appropriate selection for the opening of the section.
His closing track is the one I wish to close with here. Its lyrics have a magical, almost otherworldly ring to them imbued by the majesty of the Maori language. The song, "Kia Hora Te Marino,"is a Maori farewell that, in its entirety, reads:
"Kia hora te marino / Kia whakapapapounamu te moana / Kia tere te karohirohi i mua i t koutou huarahi"
"May peace be widespread / May the seas glisten like the green stone /And may the shimmer of light guide you on your way""Kia Hora Te Marino" sets the listener on an epic journey with a fond farewell. Its message is a simple yet powerful one that, like the other tracks, imbues a sense of universality -- one that would do well to be heard here in Israel and elsewhere. If there is a bottom line to this album, it is this: despite our differences, universally human emotions tie us together the same way Tin's music seamlessly flows from one tongue to the next.
Don't take my word for it, check out Tin's album yourself.
Kia hora te marino!
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
My Experience in Haiti
How was Haiti?
It is a question I am frequently asked by both friends and family when they hear I have returned from my 12 week volunteering expedition. Regrettably, the situation I experienced can only be described as bleak.
(Side note: I was not serving as a “voluntourist” [someone classified by paying money in order to volunteer, in the form of a program fee other than what is necessary to cover food and board], but rather living as closely to the standards as those who were displaced by the earthquake as possible. This meant no running water [water was generously provided to our “camp” by the United Nations], sleeping in a tent, no electricity, a glorified hole as a latrine, and no blackout-tinted SUVs. I was working in Haiti from March-June and the majority of my work was manual labor in the form of clearing cement and rubble from destroyed schools)
Located on the Southern coast, Jacmel was the base for my time in Haiti. In the 1960s, Jacmel was a hippie tourist destination, but by the arrival of the 1980s as well as a coup de etats, Haiti’s annual tourism revenue severely dropped and Jacmel’s wealth followed.
After a Dramamine-doped 3 hour bus ride from Port Au Prince, I took a motorcycle taxi through Jacmel to better acquaint myself with my new base of operations. While my driver was busy avoiding zealous dogs, bountiful piles of trash steaming in the Caribbean sun, and pantless children yelling “Blanc! (White!)”, I was hit by the relative cohesion of this dusty city. There were numerous fully-standing buildings, and besides the obvious leering there was a sense of safekeeping I never felt in the capital.
While affected greatly by the earthquake, its devastation (economic and human losses) was no match for the areas of Leogane and Port Au Prince. Little changed my three months of service. There appeared to be plenty of UN workers, ample money being spent on luxurious hotels for the organizations to stay at and there were certainly more marked NGO vehicles on the roads than civilian cars, but oddly enough nothing ever managed to improve. No permanent housing was built; food distribution services were highly curtailed and little to no new employment for locals with the exception of the “cash for work” programs.
Anecdotally, there were cynical expats who cited that no permanent houses were being built until after the hurricane due to the expected death toll (“Why build houses for dead people?”). There were other alleged NGO workers who claimed there was simply no money to build at the moment, which at the offset sounded preposterous. Haiti was promised over 5 billion US dollars to help rebuild their infrastructure and housing, and surely it could not have been spent in the first 5 months?
This, in fact, is true. The money has not been spent. By and large, according to CNN, because it never showed up. According to their investigation, “less than 2 percent of that money has been handed over so far to the Interim Haiti Recovery Commission.” The United States is one of the guilty parties with none of its 1.15 billion dollars having been sent. The Haitians with whom I had the pleasure of working often repeated a mantra that has served important in the face of adversity which I feel terribly applicable to this situation, “Neg di san fe, bondye fe san di” (People talk and don’t act, God acts and doesn’t talk).
In retrospect, I cannot truly say I lived like a Haitian during my time volunteering. While the conditions may have been comparable, the work to me was always temporary and I was able to have mental solace in the concept that this was not my “real” home. The daily work was physically and emotionally distressing (sifting through the crushed identification papers of children who have been killed is a job I would wish upon no one) and finishing a day knowing that tomorrow will bring the same work with little change is a cerebral stumbling block to both foreigners and Haitians. The only bright spot is that outlying cities that weren’t completely leveled, such as Jacmel, have the ability to be rebuilt when the money does (hopefully) arrive.
It is a question I am frequently asked by both friends and family when they hear I have returned from my 12 week volunteering expedition. Regrettably, the situation I experienced can only be described as bleak.
(Side note: I was not serving as a “voluntourist” [someone classified by paying money in order to volunteer, in the form of a program fee other than what is necessary to cover food and board], but rather living as closely to the standards as those who were displaced by the earthquake as possible. This meant no running water [water was generously provided to our “camp” by the United Nations], sleeping in a tent, no electricity, a glorified hole as a latrine, and no blackout-tinted SUVs. I was working in Haiti from March-June and the majority of my work was manual labor in the form of clearing cement and rubble from destroyed schools)Located on the Southern coast, Jacmel was the base for my time in Haiti. In the 1960s, Jacmel was a hippie tourist destination, but by the arrival of the 1980s as well as a coup de etats, Haiti’s annual tourism revenue severely dropped and Jacmel’s wealth followed.
After a Dramamine-doped 3 hour bus ride from Port Au Prince, I took a motorcycle taxi through Jacmel to better acquaint myself with my new base of operations. While my driver was busy avoiding zealous dogs, bountiful piles of trash steaming in the Caribbean sun, and pantless children yelling “Blanc! (White!)”, I was hit by the relative cohesion of this dusty city. There were numerous fully-standing buildings, and besides the obvious leering there was a sense of safekeeping I never felt in the capital.
While affected greatly by the earthquake, its devastation (economic and human losses) was no match for the areas of Leogane and Port Au Prince. Little changed my three months of service. There appeared to be plenty of UN workers, ample money being spent on luxurious hotels for the organizations to stay at and there were certainly more marked NGO vehicles on the roads than civilian cars, but oddly enough nothing ever managed to improve. No permanent housing was built; food distribution services were highly curtailed and little to no new employment for locals with the exception of the “cash for work” programs.
Anecdotally, there were cynical expats who cited that no permanent houses were being built until after the hurricane due to the expected death toll (“Why build houses for dead people?”). There were other alleged NGO workers who claimed there was simply no money to build at the moment, which at the offset sounded preposterous. Haiti was promised over 5 billion US dollars to help rebuild their infrastructure and housing, and surely it could not have been spent in the first 5 months?This, in fact, is true. The money has not been spent. By and large, according to CNN, because it never showed up. According to their investigation, “less than 2 percent of that money has been handed over so far to the Interim Haiti Recovery Commission.” The United States is one of the guilty parties with none of its 1.15 billion dollars having been sent. The Haitians with whom I had the pleasure of working often repeated a mantra that has served important in the face of adversity which I feel terribly applicable to this situation, “Neg di san fe, bondye fe san di” (People talk and don’t act, God acts and doesn’t talk).
In retrospect, I cannot truly say I lived like a Haitian during my time volunteering. While the conditions may have been comparable, the work to me was always temporary and I was able to have mental solace in the concept that this was not my “real” home. The daily work was physically and emotionally distressing (sifting through the crushed identification papers of children who have been killed is a job I would wish upon no one) and finishing a day knowing that tomorrow will bring the same work with little change is a cerebral stumbling block to both foreigners and Haitians. The only bright spot is that outlying cities that weren’t completely leveled, such as Jacmel, have the ability to be rebuilt when the money does (hopefully) arrive.
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