Frankelstache

Life, America, Randomness

Posts Tagged ‘Israel

A Trip in Words

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Parents got older,

Friends got married

People got ruder,

Grandma still buried.

Life got expensive-r,

Water sources got depleted

Little girls turned women,

Corruption remains untreated.

Right Wing got extremer,

Religion more popular

Food still tastier,

Views got spectacular.

Healthcare still free,

Summer weather mainly rules

From school everybody flee,

Education is run by tools.

1,095 days later

Life here do seem better.

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Written by Frankelstache

October 15, 2009 at 7:02 am

A Trip in Photos

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Ben Gurion Airport

The Welcome

The Locals

The Locals

The Architecture

The Architecture

The Agriculture

The Agriculture

The Heights

The Heights

The Markets

The Markets

The Language

The Language

The Parking

The Parking

The Propaganda

The Propaganda

The Chuck

The Chuck

The Pitas

The Pitas

The IL

The IL

Written by Frankelstache

October 12, 2009 at 12:18 pm

Posted in Life

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Airport Poem

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“My People”

 Screw the natives

Why do they make me feel so bad?

I’m usually competitive

But this just makes me sad.

 

They accuse. They’re entitled.

Uneducated. Uninvited.

 

I try to ignore

There are so many kinds,

I’ve been here before

Stressed and then untied.

 

Disrespectful and obnoxious

With a dash of cockiness and smug,

Utterly preposterous,

They make me wanna gag.

 

Fashion ain’t their thing

They seek attention,

I give them shame.

 

They are as shallow as a fling

No real heat

Just lots of flame.

Written by Frankelstache

September 26, 2009 at 7:42 pm

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Why I Decided to Work In Advertising

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I was 18 years and six months old when I joined the Army for a mandatory 3 years service. I hated running, loathed ships, and was too dumb and clumsy to pass the Air Force screenings. I also had clear goals and knew I wanted to do something meaningful with my service, (i.e. 1. Kill a terrorist, 2. Fuck a female officer, 3. Get thrown into Military Prison).  So I found myself happy being drafter into the Armored Corps and was soon enough sent to Basic Training in the desert on my way to a glorious military career at the 74th Battalion of the 188th Brigade in the 36th Division. Awesome.

Time passes really slowly when you’re a soldier, but jumping forward, less than a year after I was stripped of my civilian stature, I found myself deployed in the city of Jenin as a tank driver for “The Wolfs”, arguably the toughest, craziest, funniest and haze-iest Company in the Corps. One random day while cruising the alleys we were informed over the radio that there’s some sneaky action going on inside the Refugee Camp and we should keep our eyes open for snipers (which is, in this location, like telling someone to ‘watch out for boobs’ in a Strip Club).

In any case, some 4-5 people started shooting at us as soon as we crossed a certain intersection and we were struggling to locate the exact window / rooftop that was hosting the undisclosed gunmen. Right as we figured out where the bullets were originating from, the shooters started running and we were suddenly faced with about 100 kids running vehemently in our direction. Everything happened really fast, and all of a sudden stuff was flying at us from every direction and we realized that we were surrounded. Kids emerged from every adjacent corner and burning hot oil was poured on top of our tank. Baskets of rotten cabbage and tomatoes smashed on the top of my periscope and I couldn’t see a thing. Rocks the size of a Biggest Loser prospect made awful noises parachuting from above and the mob was swiftly closing in on us.

The rotten tomatoes on my periscope started dripping and I was able to regain sight on what’s in front of me. I saw dozens of kids, barefoot, dirty and probably all under the age of 12. They were laughing, smiling and yelling at the same time. They were oblivious and naïve, not aware of how fucked up this situation is, in comparison to a normal childhood.
And there he was, little ugly kid in the corner, probably 11 years old with buds of a young mustache and olive-colored skin, hurling stones with sweet mischief, partaking in these shenanigans enthusiastically.

What struck me most about that little kiddo was his shirt. This Refugee Camp resident that probably didn’t even had a home – not to mention shoes, water, electricity or even a warm meal – was proudly sporting a yellow Nike shirt, with the famous “Swoosh” smudged across his petite chest.  And make no mistake about it, this shirt was new and clean, by no means one of those Buffalo Bills Superbowl Champions t-shirts that were never worn and shipped to 3rd World Countries in exchange for $2 and a bag of apricots. This shirt was legit, and he wore it intentionally, proud as a Castro Street resider.

What happened next is loosely described here in the comments section and besides the laughs we had after blinding ourselves with tear gas, everything ended safely; no child was hurt and we returned to base in one piece. We spent the next day cleaning and rejuvenating our tank in the scorching heat while inside my head I couldn’t let go of that kid in the yellow Nike shirt. I was contemplating how this poverty-stricken youngster who fights for his dinners and chases tanks every day desires a Nike shirt. How the hell did they get to him, too? And if a Copywriter sitting somewhere (in Portland Oregon, I later found) can make a Nike commercial that gets all the way to a Refugee Camp in the West Bank and affects its inhabitants, then maybe one day I’ll be able to do the same, and reach those kids with a different message. Perhaps something about peace, possibly something about love – who knows.

However knowing that Peace and Love will probably never be as cool as a new Nike pair, I resumed my cleaning duties, scrubbing a mammoth stain of oil from the top of my tank’s cannon and started planning my future USA adventures.

I was discharged from the army in 04’ without completing all 3 of my contingents for a meaningful service. It’s almost 2010 now, and I’ve yet to create something really meaningful in Advertising as well. But I’ll never forget that little kid in the yellow Nike t-shirt, and every now and then, I’ll try my hardest to use my power to assure that his future kids will lead a safe life somewhere, laughing at their old man’s stories while drinking a cold beer I was paid to advertise.

Written by Frankelstache

July 13, 2009 at 3:46 pm

Words of Wisdom

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Bible states that God almighty gave Moses the Ten Commandments on top of Mount Sinai some gazillion years ago. Some say these rudiments should be the cornerstones of every living person, whether he or she is religious or not.

But it’s been way too long now, man. Lucky for you, my friend R.D. and yours truly have come up with a list of modern-day commandments, one random night about 7 years ago while we were patrolling the Syrian / Israeli border, seeking excitement between one boar-caused alarm to the other .

Principals to live by – Part 1:

1.    Right or wrong – Bullshit with confidence.

2.    A good tractor plows through the mud.

3.    You can’t teach a father how to make babies – but you can teach him new positions.

4.    Don’t use an AK47 against Mikhail Kalashnikov.

5.    If your wife is not at hand, let your hand be your wife.

Written by Frankelstache

June 8, 2009 at 7:01 pm

America’s Backbone

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Aside from Baseball and steroids, no connection in America is deeper than the one between Americans and the institution that provided them with their post high-school education. In the spirit of March Madness, I thought it’ll be wise to stop and talk about ‘College’ and its significance in American society.

Every nation needs a backbone. Something that will connect EVERYONE, an experience that one way or another had affected all during his or her lifetime. In Israel, for example, it’s the IDF. Mandatory service laws dictate that every 18-year-old Israeli boy or girl has to serve three and two years (respectively) in the national Army. Put the war issues aside, this is a great bonding experience, a true melting pot for society. It’s something every citizen can relate to, a place where everyone meet and are forced to live together and persevere. America doesn’t really have a melting pot, but College is definitely the closest one. In 2004, 52% of Americans attended college. That’s huge. But that’s barely half the country, not to mention I’m way too lazy to break the 52% into socio-economic backgrounds to get a clearer picture (I tried reading the census and failed due to severe boredom).

The reason that this occupies me is that I always felt that if it weren’t for ‘The Arabs’ who are inescapably trying to kill them, Israelis would hate each other to the point of a civil war. But lucky (or not so lucky) for Israel, the fact that the Arabs are trying to annihilate them from the face of this planet unites them. This is obviously not the best of situations, but the result, I believe, is that no other people in the world care for their fellow citizens like Israelis do. Now answer this – does anyone in Santa Monica cares for anyone in Detroit? Better yet, does anyone in Santa Monica cares for anyone in the San Fernando Valley?

How much of this dog eat dog world has to do with the capitalistic nature of Uncle Sam? Is there a fault or blame here? And who cares if there isn’t really a connection? America has done fairly well without it, so does a country even need to have a correlation between its people? And how come people get along here but can’t stop fighting elsewhere? Is it because of Woodstock? Burning Man?

It’s a tad weird to live in a place where the people are so different from each other, so disjointed and far away. I guess America is like a Paralympic Athlete: not all body parts are connected, but they somehow pull it together enough to be champions. Odd metaphor, I know. Now, if in fact ‘College’ is America’s melting pot, and if in fact we’ve established there’s some sort of Paralympics-ness involved here – isn’t it suitable that the man who represents ‘College’ (and as such, connects America) during this fine month of March is Richard ‘Dick’ Vital?

Written by Frankelstache

March 23, 2009 at 8:22 am