tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21198106501019865682012-01-29T04:16:26.921+02:00Being an account of the thoughts and feelings of a young man with too much time on his hands and too little sense, in his spiritual travels and travails across life, the universe, and various other paraphernalia.Natihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15818293558663430023noreply@blogger.comBlogger521100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2119810650101986568.post-74555350664919484742012-01-24T03:42:00.001+02:002012-01-29T03:39:40.647+02:00

All of my post pubescent life life I've been conducting a personal crusade against unnecessary conflict. I can remember myself, sometime in primary school, returning all the time in my mind to the expression "superfluous conflict" (well, the less obscure Hebrew variant thereof). This crusade has expressed itself mainly, possibly entirely, in refraining myself from entering into unnecessary

Natihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15818293558663430023noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2119810650101986568.post-75687102206669965372012-01-18T07:41:00.001+02:002012-01-18T07:57:04.351+02:00

In the great brown land of Down Under, they have the curious habit of dubbing anybody suspected of momentary disingenuousness a "bullshit artist". In the land of English-speaking internet and pop culture, and therefore presumably in the United States of wacky Republicans, there is a tongue-in-cheek tendency to inform people that they have "failed at life". It is my intention here to try and weave

Natihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15818293558663430023noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2119810650101986568.post-13884651118293588102012-01-09T03:20:00.002+02:002012-01-09T03:26:41.900+02:00

Rewatched the brilliant episode where Bart and Lisa are being rabidly set against each other by idiot sports fans in a hockey game, and they finally say fuck this shit, we're not playing, and go give each other a hug instead. A kind of defining moment for The Simpsons I think. Also pretty much a repetition of the episode where Bart and Todd are trying to impress their parents by their

Natihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15818293558663430023noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2119810650101986568.post-52359223361385643332011-11-21T04:36:00.001+02:002011-11-21T04:49:14.441+02:00

Sometimes I wonder who it is that manages to persecute me so fiercely all the time without anybody but me ever noticing. But then I consider my new hero Morrissey. The only thanks he gets for being the coolest person on earth is their adamant refusal to accept that under the hatred there lies a murderous desire for love, and how they look into his eyes and still they don't believe him, and how

Natihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15818293558663430023noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2119810650101986568.post-26679271435996948002011-10-07T23:27:00.001+02:002011-10-19T02:24:56.065+02:00

Tonight I made myself a proper dinner for the first time in probably about three weeks. Fried rice with vegetables and little hamburger pieces that took time to make and was surprisingly good. As I was eating on my own, immediately after taking my last forkful I got up to clear the dishes, but then I stopped myself, sat myself back down, and allowed myself to calmly feel the satisfaction with

Natihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15818293558663430023noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2119810650101986568.post-10337128729555956782011-08-31T03:06:00.002+03:002011-10-19T02:27:09.825+02:00

Dexter Morgan can't muster any feelings for the people around him, because he is removed from the experience due to the need to keep under wraps his inner need to kill people for reasons other than self-defence. He doesn't conduct his killings unreasonably or unconscionably (he insists on proof of guilt and intent of future harm), and there's no good reason not to accept them and him, but people

Natihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15818293558663430023noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2119810650101986568.post-52583046851754608682011-05-15T22:58:00.003+03:002011-05-17T18:27:26.566+03:00

I totally would make a youtube video just for the sake of making this point, but I don't happen to have any video-editing software on me, so what you're going to get instead is a transcript of selected scenes from this probably my favourite Simpsons episode. I'm probably pretty much alone in being reduced to a gibbering mess by this rather than see it for the simplistic sentimentalist platitudity

Natihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15818293558663430023noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2119810650101986568.post-47670996653875942632011-04-15T18:37:00.000+03:002011-04-15T18:37:38.168+03:00

The Man in the Moon - by Roger McGough On the edge of the jumping-off place I stood Below me, the lake Beyond that, the dark wood And above, a night-sky that roared. I picked a space between two stars Held out my arms, and soared.                   *       *       * The journey lasted not half a minute There is a moon reflected in the lake You will find me in it. _____________ What

Natihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15818293558663430023noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2119810650101986568.post-44342846251373866362011-02-22T19:01:00.008+02:002011-10-19T02:30:09.215+02:00

"...Man's life is like morning dew,A flame eating up the oil night by night.Why should I strain my earsListening to the squawks of this autumn insect?Better lay aside the bookAnd drink my cup of jade-white wine." - Su Shi's "Reading the Poetry of Meng Jiao" Yeah, Chinese stuff. Forget that though. I found this amusing as well as insightful. It's the kind of issue I've been grappling with

Natihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15818293558663430023noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2119810650101986568.post-50706130626197903642011-01-15T20:41:00.000+02:002011-01-15T20:41:38.968+02:00

The End of Conflict - Avinadav Begin:  "Chapter 34: These thousands of years men have been legislating laws to organise society and minimise the violence in it - state laws and religious laws, international laws and commercial laws. See, for instance, the Hague Convention. It is supposed to determine what is moral and what is immoral in a time of war, through the formulation of laws. It seeks

Natihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15818293558663430023noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2119810650101986568.post-36495521609959559572011-01-14T03:43:00.005+02:002011-10-19T02:42:18.783+02:00

I finally got around to taking out Menachem Begin's grandson's book – the one that made the news about a year ago when it came out for being leftist to an extent they're trying very hard to make it illegal to be in this country. That's kind of a dismissive way of describing it, so I'll add that his first name is Avinadav, the book is called The End of Conflict (though I don't think there's an

Natihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15818293558663430023noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2119810650101986568.post-72407402201541317842010-12-27T14:08:00.002+02:002010-12-27T14:12:52.043+02:00

So I just ran away from class and am sitting instead in the university botanical garden next to a pond. I get ponds. Vaguely dirty looking bodies of water where it seems ducks should be even if they aren't. There's a bunch of plants around with little tags informing me what they are but they're not interesting - surrounded by them is a pond. I don't know why or even how I get ponds. It's not as

Natihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15818293558663430023noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2119810650101986568.post-15854034103532223282010-11-17T01:47:00.004+02:002011-10-19T03:04:12.026+02:00

The pride that I feel - being a little behind in my studies as I am - at having further neglected them by going out tonight to the cinematheque to see this film and now by writing about it, is kind of thematically appropriate to what I'd like to talk about. Watching this film tonight (this wasn't my first viewing) I was suddenly very forcefully reminded of Raging Bull. For one, both movies are

Natihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15818293558663430023noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2119810650101986568.post-84937462348980351482010-10-25T19:13:00.003+02:002011-02-22T19:34:10.931+02:00

This song has been fucking with my mind for the past two weeks and especially throughout today. This time I'm going to post it first and then pontificate about it, because then there's the off-chance you'll actually listen to it. Aside from everything else, it's kind of short: Lather Lather was thirty years old today, They took away all of his toys. His mother sent newspaper clippings to

Natihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15818293558663430023noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2119810650101986568.post-87116496834766218002010-07-28T01:36:00.011+03:002011-10-19T03:18:59.278+02:00

I'm always bugged by noise pollution. People, pretty much everywhere, usually seem to me unduly and kind of desperately loud. I still think this is the main reason people seek out and enjoy large groups - the sound of laughter and shouting and whenever possible the deafeningly blaring anonymous and characterless music helps them block out who and what they are and how unpleased they are with

Natihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15818293558663430023noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2119810650101986568.post-60688216513049880662010-07-14T08:13:00.004+03:002010-07-28T01:49:44.240+03:00

I wrote this probably over a month ago, but I intended it to go here so go here it will. _____________________ So I've just seen this film, and I'm kind of bowled over by how perfectly it seems to encapsulate my new general political attitude. Properly speaking, it is another one of these familiar exercises in bland, knee-jerk liberalism, but somehow it

Natihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15818293558663430023noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2119810650101986568.post-60145117300903731142010-05-27T19:16:00.001+03:002010-05-27T20:19:17.058+03:00

When I walk into a classroom, or a bus, or a cinema, I avert my eyes from the people already seated. Like a nun. Timidity. It's not exactly fear - you don't expect a negative reaction - you just feel a need to keep to yourself, to stay out of people's way. Like it's part of being okay. Nietzsche characterises religion's submission and innate shame culture (in the paraphrases I've read of him)

Natihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15818293558663430023noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2119810650101986568.post-89229012663264888992010-05-25T22:56:00.020+03:002010-05-25T23:09:44.557+03:00

Two things I have come across today that excited me were texts. The first is translated by me and the second is randomly plucked from the internet, with me unfortunately having to translate from my own Hebrew translation the last sentence. S. Y. Agnon seems to me pretty much the epitome of untranslatability, so possibly this will not work, but we'll consider it a challenge and experiment.

Natihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15818293558663430023noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2119810650101986568.post-60247490357243166232010-05-25T02:32:00.001+03:002010-05-25T02:36:39.277+03:00

A kid passed me on a scooter today, and I wondered to myself what it would be like to kick him into the air. I found that noteworthy because usually this kind of thing only occurs to me with cats. It is ten past one in the morning and I would very much like to sleep but I feel a restlessness that I think has to do with me not expressing myself in front of anyone today. But not much occurs to me

Natihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15818293558663430023noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2119810650101986568.post-54049852390309482922010-05-23T02:34:00.024+03:002010-05-23T02:52:12.465+03:00

These flashbacks always get to me. It's about four and a half years ago. I'm out on a kind of field trip to the Wailing Wall with a few other unlawful high school dropouts on part of what passes for our year's program. I think most of the kids are off at the wall. A few of us are sitting down closer to the entrance of the complex, overlooked by the wall about a hundred metres off. They're

Natihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15818293558663430023noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2119810650101986568.post-46491357051808678802010-05-06T02:18:00.005+03:002010-05-10T00:42:11.170+03:00

There's an experience I've never had - sitting down in the grass enjoying the company of friends passionate about the same things (or even just some of the important ones). Not an unduly ambitious aspiration I think, but one that I have substantial trouble imagining actually happening. There's a reason why the grass is in the title of this post. The grass is important. I'm not quite sure why.

Natihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15818293558663430023noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2119810650101986568.post-9878505590010927912010-04-28T14:31:00.002+03:002010-04-28T14:44:03.280+03:00

I'm not sure how to describe this, because I don't know how common the experience is, but quite often I find myself "flashing back" to The Simpsons' rendition of Edgar Allan Poe's The Raven.  Inextricably tied to this, somehow (she's largely absent from the sequence), is the image of Lisa Simpson. Lisa actually has an episode where she recreates (and relives) another Poe piece - this time the

Natihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15818293558663430023noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2119810650101986568.post-12402875276352369542010-04-23T01:52:00.002+03:002010-05-07T00:51:54.032+03:00

How's that for a new heroic figure? Perhaps this is not the best possible example of what I'm talking about. I'm not a Job figure. My life is okay. But this happens to be what's occasioned this thought. Not the story, but the actual character himself. I have spent most of the previous years trying to be a good person. Largely succeeding too. Big whoop. Having

Natihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15818293558663430023noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2119810650101986568.post-54221965031634295072010-03-28T15:04:00.001+03:002010-04-28T15:01:11.972+03:00

So I'm lying in bed with my reading lamp at my shoulder, and I'm distracted from my reading by seeing silhouetted on the wall a frankly ridiculous profusion of my chest hairs, thinking, I'm totally a man these days. But I don't feel much like one. I lay awake at night - every night - with the oppressive feeling that the day is over and I have not been a part of it. The past two years or so have

Natihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15818293558663430023noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2119810650101986568.post-61734721442672536662010-03-25T14:12:00.004+02:002010-07-28T10:08:00.428+03:00

I cannot be expected to accept the fact that I am not Neil Young. There is a gross and continuous injustice involved in this state of affairs. Neil Young makes me cry. Not the songs of Neil Young, mind you; not the story of Neil Young - his existence. His disposition, I suppose. Neil Young evokes for me, and I know it's a somewhat incongruous image, a sense of religious devotion, of the kind I

Natihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15818293558663430023noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2119810650101986568.post-57097425084598591062010-03-16T01:05:00.010+02:002010-03-19T14:33:18.877+02:00

It didn't actually take me this long to write this, but it took a while to get back around to it. I suppose I'll forgive you if you don't read it all at once. I've conveniently divided it through pictures into three separate chunks. Have fun. ______________ "Tao Te Ching" can (apparently) be very loosely translated as "Book of the Way and Virtue". Ching is fairly straightforward, though the

Natihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15818293558663430023noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2119810650101986568.post-68966695357795460992010-03-12T02:37:00.001+02:002010-04-28T15:30:48.353+03:00

I'm writing a few hours after the ordeal that is (the amazing) Grave of the Fireflies - involving a young teenager and his impotent effort to look after his little sister in WWII Japan - and about a month after the termination of my National Service job in a special needs kindergarten - involving the abrupt desertion of 8 children who'd gotten very attached to me after barely two months with them

Natihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15818293558663430023noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2119810650101986568.post-90696915959124837352010-03-04T01:14:00.001+02:002010-05-06T22:53:55.339+03:00

I sure wish I knew what it was. This refrainment from doing so is seriously messing me up. It actually probably won't be you specifically who's the answer to all my troubles, but, as you're here as the elected representative of the Society of People Who Are Not Me, I shall practice communing incoherently with the universe through you. Consider it a sacrifice in the name of science. Metaphysics.

Natihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15818293558663430023noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2119810650101986568.post-61466577743178620592010-02-15T22:59:00.000+02:002010-02-16T01:57:06.731+02:00

My philosophy (pretty much conclusively, actually) is that if you're not busy doing or saying something important, you should be concentrating your efforts on listening, and learning. So I'm always "learning", even when I'm supposed to be busy doing things. And I say things more or less by accident, except for when I force myself to write, like here.This is going to be one of those tangential

Natihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15818293558663430023noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2119810650101986568.post-66444480303251823272010-01-30T18:31:00.004+02:002010-12-28T01:58:52.819+02:00

"...You have greatness, she continued, but Mr Ramsay has none of it. He is petty, selfish, vain, egotistical; he is spoilt; he is a tyrant; he wears Mrs. Ramsay to death; but he has what you (she addressed Mr. Bankes) have not; a fiery unworldliness..." - Virginia Woolf's To the Lighthouse. As you may or may not have noticed, I've been undergoing some form of identity restructuring over the

Natihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15818293558663430023noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2119810650101986568.post-47386536382012063632010-01-20T20:14:00.002+02:002010-03-16T14:38:27.792+02:00

My reading journey culminating in the Tao Te Ching started with Salinger's "Raise High the Roof Beam, Carpenters and Seymour: an Introduction", and continued through "Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance" and the "Tao of Pooh". I mention this journey because I consider it a gratifyingly successful one. The first two aren't the easiest reads, but the third certainly is, and they're all

Natihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15818293558663430023noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2119810650101986568.post-19930431809920450572009-12-28T22:52:00.002+02:002010-05-06T00:57:54.426+03:00

This is sort of new. I'm restless, so I'm trying to write it out to get myself back together, rather than with a real idea of what I want to say. The newness is that it's going to the blog rather than to another of my overwritten notebooks. I was speaking to a friend yesterday, about the usual topic - individualism vs. others' perceptions and expectations - and at one point, presumably when I

Natihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15818293558663430023noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2119810650101986568.post-2119145741783792322009-12-26T22:04:00.000+02:002009-12-26T23:51:41.787+02:00

^ A balloon.So I've been thinking about balloons. Life seems to effectively be about giving and receiving balloons. You take who you are, blow it into a balloon, tie it up, and give it to somebody else to add to his collection, so that we're all walking around with scores of balloons above our heads, holding them with strings, which I guess would now make them helium balloons, but the image still

Natihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15818293558663430023noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2119810650101986568.post-53996884138916819512009-12-19T23:49:00.001+02:002010-05-06T23:01:25.065+03:00

Which, wow, after almost five months of blog silence has probably been quite a long time coming. I've just seen this film: I'm not going to go into it except to mention that you should watch it, as if you're going to listen. It is, as the poster and tagline imply, about life and death and trees and a bald guy floating around in space. I was watching it today for something like the fifth time

Natihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15818293558663430023noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2119810650101986568.post-28500848881639418252009-07-29T05:04:00.000+03:002010-01-18T20:26:14.383+02:00

Another thing I wrote not originally intending to post here. Apologies for the total lack of diplomacy present. I never say these things and I need practice:__________I am plagued by the spectres of religion and nationalism. These are inescapably moral reflections. It strikes me as not only intellectual but also (consequently?) moral laziness – one might almost say negligence – to adopt your

Natihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15818293558663430023noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2119810650101986568.post-45933064360575926062009-07-28T04:29:00.000+03:002009-07-28T04:40:06.702+03:00

I can't guarantee you'll understand a word of what's going on here, and I'm not even sure that I'll like this in the morning, but I've just spent way too long writing this thing, so I'm here showing off before I change my mind:__________________He sat in front of his computer keyboard, totally at a loss. He didn’t entirely understand what he was doing here in the first place. He’d felt an

Natihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15818293558663430023noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2119810650101986568.post-87483659497496891732009-07-09T00:14:00.000+03:002010-03-12T05:01:44.942+02:00

I didn't even like this movie that much, but I'm hoping it might provide a modicum of context for what is on my brain right now. This does, of course, only even have the chance of working if you've actually seen the movie, but hey.These two people get on my nerves a little. They're conceited and cynical in the most infuriatingly cheerful way. They're quietly very smug about their half-baked

Natihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15818293558663430023noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2119810650101986568.post-58775989814789944592009-07-07T00:47:00.000+03:002009-07-07T15:17:12.434+03:00

In the bus, today, out of the corner of my eye I was a little startled to find an unusually bloody, stunning sunset covering most of the sky.Besides being generally impressive to look at, sunsets seem to create a very particular atmosphere. Lately I've wondered what stands behind this, and if there are any generally accepted theories on the matter. My rash pop-psych suggestion is that the

Natihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15818293558663430023noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2119810650101986568.post-74412771686143469562009-06-18T00:17:00.000+03:002009-07-07T14:24:14.490+03:00

My historical knowledge is fairly limited, but it appears that traditionally, we regular folk have had our shit ruined by the monarchy, the Church, and the aristocracy.For some sort of bizarre reason we thought it sensible to give our allegiance to the king, our fealty to the Pope, and our deference to those of bluer blood and larger stacks of cash.The innate idiocy of this can be readily

Natihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15818293558663430023noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2119810650101986568.post-63019607012860590522009-06-15T00:49:00.000+03:002009-07-07T23:26:42.371+03:00

This summer, 11 years ago, awesome had a new name: Max Fischer.I'm a little giddy. This movie's made me happy. Made me smile inanely as only a movie can.I'm not going to pretend too hard to be reviewing this movie. It's about a 15 year old painfully precocious kid whose life revolves completely around his attendance (by scholarship) of his elitist private school - not actually the studies, but

Natihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15818293558663430023noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2119810650101986568.post-12205753761790586322009-06-09T00:12:00.000+03:002009-06-09T15:06:14.520+03:00

It's probably not quite reasonable to assume that you will find this as amusing as I did, but I'm going to anyway.I am currently trying a little harder than I should be to read The Count of Monte Cristo. The context is that my writing sometimes seems to me a little unnecessarily and obscurely verbose. So it comforts me to know that I'll probably never sink to the level of this translation's glib

Natihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15818293558663430023noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2119810650101986568.post-7432328875928468862009-05-31T23:34:00.001+03:002010-05-06T01:07:57.619+03:00

I'm probably barking up the wrong tree with this, but I'm reading The Importance of Being Earnest, and a short while back I read The Great Gatsby, and I'm getting a similar picture from both about what seems to have been a Victorian feminine ideal. I call it the witty idiot. It's an intelligent, presumably capable woman, trying very hard to pigeonhole herself into a position inappropriate for

Natihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15818293558663430023noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2119810650101986568.post-55390595795949021072009-05-31T02:39:00.000+03:002009-07-09T01:15:05.065+03:00

A curiously widespread phenomenon, considering what the word technically means. Or maybe it isn't technical, but what immediately comes to my mind when I hear the word is the feeling that most people share something that you don't.I've been excruciatingly lonely for the last 6 or so years, ever since essentially deciding upon it as a sort of buffer against life. This loneliness had continued

Natihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15818293558663430023noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2119810650101986568.post-76755758538741568072009-05-27T22:44:00.000+03:002009-06-11T00:35:52.552+03:00

I've had the feeling all day that there's some kind of momentous realization I was about to reach if only I could get around to thinking about it properly. It made it kind of hard to really focus on anything else. Here's hoping this is it.I noticed today that there's a lot of phantom judging going on in my life. Whenever I enter any borderline technically halfway social environment - this is

Natihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15818293558663430023noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2119810650101986568.post-74856030177387556542009-05-25T23:36:00.000+03:002009-06-11T00:35:44.844+03:00

I'm not sure how much of this I've mentioned previously - though it probably doesn't matter, considering most likely you do not actually have all of this memorized - but for the past few years I have been living in a sort of state of enforced autism.It started as an angry, confused reaction to the surrounding groups' behaviour scaring, hurting, and disappointing me, and continued for the same

Natihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15818293558663430023noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2119810650101986568.post-44691158646488602202009-05-23T23:52:00.000+03:002009-05-24T01:42:16.181+03:00

This is a movie, by the way. That's not the clearest poster. How's this?Yeah, not much better, I know.It's true though. It is a great, exhilarating movie. I know I had a point here at some stage.First of all to just give this film my blessing and recommendation. It's as awesome as they say it is and worth it even if you're strongly averse to schmaltzy stuff - so is Christy Brown.I'm not even

Natihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15818293558663430023noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2119810650101986568.post-38249004019896453572009-05-19T23:38:00.000+03:002009-06-11T00:35:37.152+03:00

I'm reading Siddhartha. Siddhartha says:"Listen, Kamala, When you throw a stone into the water, it finds the quickest way to the bottom of the water. It is the same when Siddhartha has an aim, a goal. Siddhartha does nothing; he waits, he thinks, he fasts, but he goes through the affairs of the world like the stone through the water, without doing anything, without bestirring himself; he is

Natihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15818293558663430023noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2119810650101986568.post-59425908213335934702009-05-11T15:00:00.000+03:002009-06-11T00:35:29.256+03:00

If mainly for reminding me of how much I used to dig the original series. The movie was good – not amazing – but the kind of stuff that’s always pure pleasure for the fans (not all bitter, hostile trekkies fit into my definition of “fans”). I had already had an idea that the moviemakers were serious and knew what they were doing, but it was still a pleasant surprise to find that actually pretty

Natihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15818293558663430023noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2119810650101986568.post-23142103990830710782009-04-28T23:55:00.002+03:002010-05-06T01:35:00.591+03:00

And before you ask, no, the two subjects are not related. I've just been rather lax on my blog discipline. I've been thinking things and thinking "okay, I'll address that in the blog later", which has ended up as making me think less rather than more about these subjects. Zionism first because it's more recent and briefer and I'm not as sure about what I want to say about it. It is the eve of

Natihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15818293558663430023noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2119810650101986568.post-52480054809483411202009-04-17T03:45:00.000+03:002012-01-29T03:47:22.411+02:00

There's this vague subject that's kind of been troubling me for the past three days. That is to say, it troubled me greatly and acutely three days ago, until I'd resolved to write about it here, and then I never got around to it and it kind of hung on. It is this: Adultness. Responsibilities. My duties towards others. It's too long after the fact for me to remember precisely where this very

Natihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15818293558663430023noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2119810650101986568.post-72604731321081774442009-04-08T01:53:00.001+03:002010-05-06T01:51:07.270+03:00

It's too bloody late at night to be doing this, but I'd sort of expected myself to do this before Passover, and that's tomorrow, and tonight is the last time I have internet access before it's over. How to begin? Two or three weeks ago. Or was it four? No, I'll give you a general overview first. I was born an Orthodox Jew. What sets us apart from other Jews is the fact that we wear a little

Natihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15818293558663430023noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2119810650101986568.post-62792700790847745672009-04-05T23:44:00.000+03:002009-04-08T03:30:59.673+03:00

Before I say anything, perhaps I should clarify that I don't really know what I'm doing here. That is, I'm trying to do something very specific, but I'm not quite sure yet what it is. I'm planning to kind of live and learn. Hence, I guess, the blog's title, though more than anything else it seems to make me sound like a schizophrenic.I have been journalling privately, off-and-on (though mainly on

Natihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15818293558663430023noreply@blogger.com2