

Leibowitz Concludes

Book 3 of 13

Edward Drobinski

Copyright © 2019 by Edward Drobinski. All rights reserved.

Well within the imagined constraints regarding the precise precision of impressiveness, all spurious and soon to be overstated rights are supposedly reserved, and are hereby ludicrously claimed as such; the result of the confines of the US law which provides a modicum of protection to written materiel; strongly encouraging plagiarism, which is now disciplined by a righteous "Shame on you" from inconsequential writers and college professors on the US Federal Government dole. Since it may appear as amateurish to leave this blurb out, and though unpunished breaches invariably will be the case, this section is customarily mandated to say in sad futility that no part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means except those so authorized, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in the course of writing a review; limited to one of the laudatory type. A sincere thanks is extended to those who have allowed this time-saving boilerplate to be copied under a spurious CCO license.

The characters and events in this book are fictitious. Understand? Fictitious? As in untrue, fabricated, invented, made-up (not like in Liberace), false, pretend, fictional, conjured, and all those other words one calls liars. In fact they are so obviously fictitious that any attempt to assert otherwise would have to be the mercenary ploy of some lazy, non-productive crook or crooks, counseled, aided, and abetted by an otherwise unemployed chiseler or chiselers, as yet un-dismissed from the less than diligent bar. Any fancied apparent similarity to real persons is not intended by the author insofar as the author can conjure every possible archetype and their subdivisions upon subdivisions upon subdivisions ....... and if thought to be detected is either a coincidence or the product of your own sick and troubled imagination; perhaps most practically suggestive of an intensification in treatment and dosage.

Where the names of real places, corporations, institutions, and public figures may be projected onto made up stuff, they are intended to denote only such said made up stuff, not anything presently real as of the time of this entirely conjectural and metaphorical writing.

I hope that you are one of those blessed with common sense, thereby being one who did not bother to read this semi-obligatory absurdity.

Portions have previously appeared in the following; New Yorker, Esquire, Playboy, New York Times, Ploughshares, Paris Review, and the halls of prestigious Horror Sleaze Trash (HST). Need the writer say more?

Contents

**10**

"Fortuitously" Thematic Web Memoirs

With nothing else to do and seeking a fun site for petty rebellious entertainment, Mark googled "unintentionally absurdist stories," and for his first choice clicked on BriefDumbMemoirs.com, after noting that the description said the site had acquired a volume of its required life-stories-in-less-than-1,000-words, or five pages, whichever is less. He was in no mood for all the filler yadda yadda, and considered it worth a shot to read some short, un-professional lies, especially since it was "free." In other words the site operators had not yet attracted any advertisers, and wouldn't dare try to charge its 100 users a fee. He read.

Pumping

There seems to be a strong literary trend right now, insofar as that is demonstrated on the net, of interest in how a writer goes about his job. In an attempt to stay ahead of the curve, I figured I'd tell you all what's it's like to do mine. You probably are unaware of how important we septic tank pumpers are to the world. Without us, there would literally be s*** all over the place; in your backyard, in your house, and even in your drinking water. Sure, all the respect is paid to those who own the trucks and the dispatchers who answer the phones and tell us where to go, but just think about it for one second. If you only had them, you'd have the aforementioned s*** all over the place; and places that neither you nor I have even imagined. S*** happens. Not good. So, every day we pumpers put on our stink pants and do our best for humanity with little pay. No complaints, it's more than a calling, we are chosen. The stink pants, in and of themselves, are a problem. You can't help but get some of the stuff on ya, and it has a half-life, which never fully ends. My wife won't allow them in the house, and I have to keep them in the chicken barn, where the clucking birds register what they apparently consider to be their good, well-informed taste by staying away from them, as if their pellets didn't stink. The sheer audacity! You ever get a whiff of chicken s*** after a rain? I'm sure you remember if you did. I've tried to sneak the pants in to use the washer-dryer when my wife has gone shopping, and boy did I ever catch holy hell. That immortal stink bombed out the laundry room, the hallway, and part of the living room. When she came back, she immediately started yelling; "What on earth are you doing here?" And when she covered her nose with a towel, and investigated she made a bee line for the dryer she saw my still revolving stink pants and what I had done. She opened all the windows, on a cold January day, and told me to get the stinking pants out, and stay with them. Well, the pants went back with the chickens, but I put my foot down and came back in, though was sequestered in the 25 degree rooms with no water, as the pipes had frozen. I tried to sleep the time away on the floor, like any resident of County quickly learns to, but the dog kept growling at me because he had trouble drinking the ice in his dish, and I couldn't for fear of attack. And some of these desk jockeys get all whiney about Gulags in Siberia.

Bolstered by the overnight de-stinking, which brought the odor down to a level the EPA finds acceptable, the next morning my wife insisted that I quit this low income job and improve our lots at Mickey D's. When I started lying that she should just hang on a bit longer, as any day now the owner was going to triple my pay, and make me a supervisor, and no more stink pants, she got mad just because she heard that well intentioned little fabrication 10 times over the past 2 years, and said she was leaving unless I became a better scented fries manager. I tried to explain to her that fries were not my dream or choosing, stressing their greasy exteriors, but she left anyway.

On the positive side, I can now keep my stink pants in my stink house, until it is re-possessed, and she took the lousy dog. I feel that I'm doing what God wanted me too, and my heart is warmed whenever I see the appreciative looks in the tearful eyes of the gagging pumpees on discount days.

Tomorrow; the ontological process of the pumper.

Venice; public domain.

Greetings

I greet people at Walmart, always saying "Have a nice day," and I mean that sincerely every time. I counted them up once. 1,920 "Have a nice day"s" in an eight hour shift. It can get monotonous. But, I've tried experimentally saying; "Have a good one," or "Enjoy the good weather," and I just get funny looks. People just get so comfortable with the same dullness over and over and over again. They say they don't like it, but they sure as hell act as if a live wire jolted their ass whenever there's a deviation. One even indignantly complained to my supervisor, demanding to know just what I had meant by saying; "Warm greetings to you." My supervisor didn't make any fuss, but she got a four foot square happy face with "Have a nice day" written on it, and propped it up on my little table. As she left she said; "Just say that." I was so embarrassed, as I figured that the customers would see it, and think I was a moron or something. Jeez, I'll tell you, every creative instinct I might have had died right there.

Sprinkler Man

I work for a new outfit named "Only Sprinklers." I don't like to brag, but the fact is that I'm the head sprinkler specialist. They gave me my own panel truck too, and now my wife and I don't have to pay for a second car. "Only Sprinklers" does other things too, like drip line installation and maintenance, lawn mowing, rocks, fountains, leaf raking, bush planting, and pretty much anything you need done outside. But I only do sprinklers.

It doesn't bother me any, but the owners took this limiting name to capitalize on the success of "Sprinklers Only." So the rock, mowing, drip, leaf and bush guys don't do as well as me. See, people don't read. All our ads say that we do the other stuff, but customers just see "Only Sprinklers," and quit reading as the lazy people think "Oh, only sprinklers." Many of them have had experience with "Sprinklers Only" who really do only sprinklers, and they probably don't even remember if they were last serviced by old "Sprinklers Only" or new "Only Sprinklers."

At first, this didn't bother me because I only do sprinklers, but then I got to thinking; "What if the customer wanted both their sprinklers and drip lines looked at?" I'd be missing out because the owners took a stupid name and the stupid customers are too goddam lazy to read, and just call somebody else they know does both.

So, I figured out how to make sure that I got mine. See, most of the time the sprinklers only need to be washed out, and most customers don't hang around to watch what I'm doing. So, I wash 'em out, screw 'em back on, and charge the customer for a new one. Gotta be slick these days.

Cinder Block Carrier

I'm in construction. The ones with the nail guns get all the glory. Bunch of weaklings. I carry the blocks. Makes my arms strong. I don't get no lip. When they need me, they be real polite. You know. R-E-S-P-E-C-T. Pays pretty good. Get some overtime and weekends. Don't have to pay for fancy clothes. Name's McCarthy. What else?

Semanticist

Lay people probably do not understand my well-paid work; lay people essentially are others, as seen through the lense of one who is well-versed or with ersatz expertise in semantics, or a subject. Lay people do not communicate well, causing problems of misunderstanding; and we professional have studied the subject to the PhD level, so that we can tell them that and write witty notes to each other. Semantics is the linguistic and philosophical study of meaning, in language, programming languages, formal logics, and semiotics. It is concerned with the relationship between signifiers; such as words, phrases, signs, and symbols, and what they stand for in reality, a topic for advanced discussion, and their denotation. In international scientific vocabulary semantics is also called semasiology. The word semantics was first used by Michel Bréal, a French philologist. It denotes a range of ideas, from the popular to the highly technical. It is often used in ordinary language for denoting a problem of understanding that comes down to word selection or connotation. This problem of understanding has been the subject of many formal enquiries, over a long period of time, especially in the field of formal semantics. In linguistics, it is the study of the interpretation of signs or symbols used in agents or communities within particular circumstances and contexts. Within this view, sounds, facial expressions, body language, and proxemics have semantic (meaningful) content, and each comprises several branches of study. In written language, things like paragraph structure and punctuation bear semantic content; other forms of language bear other semantic content. The formal study of semantics intersects with many other fields of inquiry, please not the "I" now substituted for the prior "e," including lexicology, syntax, pragmatics, etymology and others. Independently, semantics is also a well-defined field in its own right, often with synthetic properties. In the philosophy of language, semantics and reference are closely connected. Further related fields include philology, communication, and semiotics. The formal study of semantics can therefore be manifold and complex. Semantics contrasts with syntax, the study of the combinatorics of units of a language without reference to their meaning, and pragmatics, the study of the relationships between the symbols of a language, their meaning, and the users of the language. Semantics as a field of study also has significant ties to various representational theories of meaning including truth theories of meaning, coherence theories of meaning, and correspondence theories of meanings. I should stop here as I'm sure I'm well over your lay head.

Nu-lib-anarcho-communisti-socialist

All power to the correct non-white people, me the exception. We don't give a wet rat raspberry about you bourgeois bores. Just send us that money you've stolen from the people. I will scare you into supporting me. If you don't I'll cry the blues and make you sympathize with me. Give it up, fool. Either way I win.

Street Philosopher

If a person wants to be a friend they should be treated with reciprocity plus one. If they prove to not be one, they will be evaluated on a cold, rational monetary basis on a good day, and with a hot bomb on a bad one. Take your pick.

Bathroom Re-Modeler

Suavemir Szymanski is name. From Poland came. There work bad. Concrete is made the houses. Flimsy here. Make work easy. Someday big wind come along, blow everything away. Re-model bathroom I do, like before me father. Good he not do. Here I make good bathroom business.

Fadadip fadadoo.

Street Basketball Playa

Rucker Park be a roundball court in Harlem, Manhattan, New York City, US of A, at 155th Street and Frederick Douglass Boulevard cross da street from da former Polo Grounds site. It at da base of a tall-ass cliff named Coogan's Bluff uh dat Giant baseball guy's fame. Bobby Thompson. Many moons ago. Ballers who play hyah get dem sum fame fo dey skills, an sum also played in da NBA, as Rucka be the bes'.

Ah ben playin' up hyah ...... or down hyah, depens on way won is, fo twenny years now; started wen ah was jus' a snot nose 13 year ol' prodigal, name uh Kareem Jefferson. Ges mah daddy taught ah'd be big; an ah started out dat way, but topped out at 6-4 macon me a guard, forward on a small team. Sum ware in dere day started callin' me "Too Tall," tinkin it be funny. Ah doan mine. Mos'evabody got a goof street name.

Since you so nicely asked yeztruly jus' happens to have a lis' a dem NBA playas rite here in mah pocket, ta pud Rucka Park in terms yu maht unnerstan. So, please, allow me the honor of readin' the s*** right at ya. Awrite. We got Kareem Abdul-fuggin-Jabbar, man; an ef yo younsta ass don't recall him, try it on one-on-one Kobe Bryant. Nah, no LeBron down here. The boy afraid he be embarrassed. But, if I may presume to retain the mufuggin' flow, here's some more for yo considration; Rafer Alston, Kenny Anderson, Nate Archibald, Metta World Peace, Sylvester Blye, Wilt Chamberlain, the original "Big Dipper," may he rest in peace, Julius "Dr. J" Erving, the man who invented the game after Connie Hawkins wasn' allow to till his ass was fuddy, Kyrie Irving, Jumpin Jackie Jackson, Pee Wee Kirkland, Earl the Goat Manigault, Charlie Scott, Stephon Marbury, Jamal Mashburn, Earl Monroe, won a dem white boys Chris Mullin, we all not be prejudice ova hyah, jus' nok em on day ass a few times, to see if he got da stuff ta git bak up, Mexicans too, but at 5-4 day got some disadvantageous condition, ya no, Satch Sanders, Lance Stephenson, Sebastian Telfair, Jamaal Tinsley, Cal Ramsey, Joe Hammond, and las' but not da bullpiss leas' Kemba Walker. See, these boys all went to the show fo da bread, yanowamean. But, when day wanned to play da game an' compete wid da bes' dey dun haul they ass rite ova hyah. Yazzuh, yeztruly is hyah to tell ya dat dere'd be a longer lis' if dey didn't nix on sum o' da bruthas fo havin' sum kine adtude problem. Hehe. Me now, ah doan give too fuks bout da scouts an dare papers no mo. Lahkly neva did, but now ahm too ole to go to da show. So now ah give em s*** fo a different reason. Day neva no whut to say wen ah ask dem if yoo white guys always sit together. Day get all kines a nervous an s***.

It sad dat sum dese adtude bruthas wanna pick up a few o da high priced gigs, waddya gonna do, sleep in da mufuggin' park. It wurs fo dem dat way ova da backboard, cause when day ain't allowed to go to the show, sum tahms dey find thayself a habit. All dat s*** be new to da white wurl ben hyah since da day o da flud. Da kids ova on 128th set ol' Chuckyy Hughes on far cos he was sleepin' on a park bench stinkin' lahk he ain't neva ben wash an hi as a Jap buildin'. Taut he was a bum. Musta hurt special bad cos Chuckyy always luv the kids an wen he was rite yoose ta give em free autographs, tellin' em day'd be wurt sumpthin someday. Hope he neva woke up. Sum sad ass s***, man.

Ah, f***, man; can't leave it dere. Listen. Sometimes you white boys are funnier dan a cacaroach stuk in sum melted chocolate peanut butter cup. Won year yezreuly be teemed up with dis big, wide dude. Gronsky, Plonski, o sum s***. Jew, polack, wudeva. Could't jump ova a fuggin' curb. Nowumean. But, the fat ass f***a cood push lahk a nigga whut gotta pay de man, lahk pronto. So, ahm shootin' too free throws, and he's on da line lookin' fo position. On ma second won fat ass steps ova da line befo ah shoot it. Fuggin' ting goes in, but da ref say no good cos fatso's lane violation. I really wasn't pissed cos ah new whut he be tran to do, but figured ah'd have some fun. Ah said; "Da fuk yu doin'?" Very serious he toll me whut ah already new and say; "I was trying to get position to get the rebound." Ah said; "Hey, man. Yu ain't lurned yet? Thay ain't no rebound wen ah shoot a free throw." "He started babblin' sum serious ass s*** bout math and ah tink he ain't stopped yet."

An ef yo eyeballs still attached to yo hed, yu maht jus' spy on sum o dem fahn ladies sittin' in da bleachers. Sum bitches, ho's, and baby mamas, too, but affa yu be hyah a while you can pik em out. We preesh ee ate dem fahn ladies as dere whut make it all worthwhile. Day doan be talkin' bout no Jacksons, less it be Jumpin' Jackie. Day jus' be con cerned bout a man who play it fo real; blak, brown, white, yellow, and red no mata; jus' no green.

Piece.

Pizza Lover

When I was little, mom used to take me with her when she did her shopping on Broadway. She'd usually get me a charlotte reuse at the place on 21st Street. But, the charlotte reuse place closed up and in a few weeks Bayonne's first pizza place opened there. I had some trepidation at first about this new thing. But, I guess out of hunger one day I decided to try a slice. Man, it was the greatest thing I'd ever eaten, and it became a regular thing.

Okay, I realize that some of you jaded young sophisticates are sitting there thinking; "Who cares about this culturally deprived fossil's big deal with pizza? All you have to do is call Domino's and in ten minutes a pie will be delivered to your door. And what does pizza have to do with Bayonne anyway?"

I'd like to assure the jaded sophisticates that I think I understand their point of view; and would like to tell them; "I don't care. If you don't like it you can get your big nose out of my book and go write your own, and I don't even give one of those wet raspberries about you. Kiss my grits in Amazon's window ....... "

Please excuse me. It's morning and the meds may not have kicked in yet. What I was trying to lead up to is the universal belief that there is no such thing as bad pizza. That is just plain wrong. No equivocations. No if's, and's or but's. Wrong. Wrong. Period. Fuggetaboudit. End of sentence. Case closed.

Admittedly it took me some time to figure this out; but after having come to a conclusion which now seems obvious, I'd have to respectfully say that anyone who believes that myth must not have eaten a whole lot of pizza.

Perhaps the story of my discovery day will illustrate this. I was at a party, and like every party, the attendees were all being merry and jovial; you know all that stuff you fake and the blessed one day find an acquired taste for. You can't say anything negative without being called a party pooper. So you kind of stand there and say stuff like; "Hey bro," "Lookin' good," "How's it hangin'", "Wild," (That's best used at parties with a jazz theme.) and pretend that the Subhumans' blasting top 1,000,000 hit "Slave to My Dick" is the greatest thing anyone ever heard. The grinning hostess approaches you with a gift of a slice of pizza. You're not particularly hungry, but not wanting to be a downer, you take the slice and thank her. She doesn't wait around and goes away offering slices to some other people. The first thing you notice of your pizza is that the thing doesn't bend and shows signs of terminal crusting. It's in your hand with all of the elasticity of a horticultural tool and you think about wanting to keep the rest of your front teeth. Its shape is consistent with that same tool, and its rounded head appears as if someone may have taken a tentative gentle bite before returning it to its place. You muse that this round-headed pizza may ostensibly still be capable of flesh penetration, but of more significance, it has an uncanny similarity to that archaic gardening tool invented by the Greeks, the use of which necessitated kneeling or bending over, since replaced by the use of a simple hoe. On top of the un-aesthetic nature of the thingy, if you're as dumb as I was and get it anywhere near your nose it smells like someone had their dirty ass on it.

In all fairness, I'd like to point out that this isn't always the fault of the pizza. Most of the time it's been sitting on the table with the other overlooked slices, and they've been re-heated five or six times in the last hour. However, that doesn't change the fact that you have a bit of a problem. The first time I was in this situation my first thought was to try to sneak it into a garbage can when no one was looking. That's not easy at some parties as it's difficult to get any privacy, and even if you did someone would likely see it later and yell out; "Hey, what asshole is throwing the pizza in the gobbidge?" and everything would come out, resulting in you being called a party pooper and go uninvited to the next joyous affair. So, in my case I decided to "groove" to the Subhumans and nonchalantly dance my way over to the table which held the other slices and put it back there when no one was looking. I mean people at these parties aren't counting, and may not even know six from seven slices to begin with. It worked.

A word to the wise is sufficient.

A sense of morality soon overcame me, and I thought it might be incumbent upon me to tell my best friends; "Hey, don't mess with that bad pizza." Maybe I should have said something, but ultimately decided that I didn't want to risk that party pooper charge, and quite frankly came to find it singularly funny when one of them did eat it.

I finally settled into a calm mental position, wherein I thought; "It's not my job to tell anyone what to do, and if you want to eat hard, crusty-ass pizza go ahead. I'd like to at least recommend watching out for the stiff end; but when you come right down to it I really don't care."

Those still here may still be wondering what this has to do with Bayonne as pizza was not invented there. Well, I don't know and submit that the questioner may be missing the pizza point. In addition, pizza may well have been invented in Bayonne. Who can surely say? Maybe the Italians kept the good stuff to themselves for a while before publicly putting it out on 21st Street at a price.

In closing to you modern sophisticates, up until the age of about 18, whenever I wanted some good pizza, I had to archaically haul my ass up to 21st Street. Your improvements are admirable, but "I'll try my best to muddle on through without you and your Domino's." Capish?

Social Worker's Significant Other

I often have said that real life gives me more laughs than Chris Rock. Here's an example. My significant other is a social worker who is working from home today. Phone rings.

"Hello, is this Mr. X?"  
" ...... "  
"I'm DD, a social worker."

" ..... "

"I called earlier because Mr. Y said that you wanted to take semi-clothed pictures of him in the bathroom."

" .................... "

"Aha. That's why I called. We're doing an investigation and we want to hear all sides of the story."

" ..................... "

"In the course of your work, do you spend time with Mr. Y in the bathroom?"

" .......................................... "

"So, it's not possible for you to totally avoid being in the bathroom when Mr. Y is there?"

" ................. "

"Do you have any idea why Mr. Y might have made up the story about the photo request?"

" ............... "

"Well, law enforcement has no record of Mr. Y being charged as a sex offender."

" .............. "  
"OK. As I said, we're just investigating and want to hear from all sides."

" ................. "

"Approximately how much time per day does Mr. Y spend naked in the bathroom?"

" ............ "

"Doesn't anyone complain?"

" ................ "

"I see. So, you're just trying to provide the photographic evidence."

" .................. "

"No erotic intent?"

" .............. "  
"No, to my knowledge Mr. Z has not yet made any allegations."  
"........................ "  
"Thank you. Goodbye."

Of course, I was cracking up, but DD remained cooly professional, as she found this nonsense to be routine after a few decades of it. I'm not certain, but I don't think I'm supposed to laugh.

God

God, the name presumptuously used here is not one to which I relate, other than it being the most common name hominids assign me; a sort of recognition of my un-wanted name, in deference to popular opinion. For the sake of the commonly consequent wrong notion of simplicity I have herein identified myself as such. Take or don't take whatever meaning from it you'd like.

I have no job per se, and I confess to never even having wanted one, despite what may have been fatuously, childishly, and most of all, in terms of one truly being one with whom the evaluator has had no experience, personal or meta, insofar as anything transduced to erroneously appear as a meta annotation, the dichotomy much to obvious too address in the eyes of the unidentified writer, the seemingly somewhat consensuality more a function of monotony, thereby also the tribally and victimized advocates of meta brag and skin displayed appearance, those as to having retained the hominidly-thought diversion or in- consequentially not seemingly expressive, that accidentally construed by some as a manifestation, a manifestation of something inadequately described and depicted as a meme; that meme or reptilian replicant "logically" and thereby also severely incorrect in the contrived assertion, that assertion deduced from either their inattention or their mechanically imperfect perception of my having the willingness to embrace just one, that a suggestion of a primordial requisite too, as all too mutually self-servingly imposed, though lacking in completion, and choosing to be convinced by something other than that; that being transitionally best represented through a few tempting promises of omnipotent largesse purported by a sumbitch, as might be differentiated from a sunbitch, in the customary, standardized scam introduction, the latter notion personally optional and thereby inherently value-judgmental as seen, not seen, or glimpsed in the most blasé of fashions by the observer.

Inexactitudes aside and the exhaustive and exhausting future subject of those pencil-necked derivative analysts, that on the other hand I would like to say on this site, with as many valuable visits and likes attendant thereto in an apparent state of semi-permanent absentia, a stasis calculated as such; that I too, in exercise of my own free will, that attribute as having been said to have been granted by a source as yet un-named and un-identified to both you and me, as distinguished and differentiated in standardized hominid parlance, have been somehow granted to said hominids, in their continued or discontinued search, inexorably inconsistent in that, yet predictably directionally proportional to time elapsed, initially remote propinquity endemic to the world of forms.

So as not to be further misunderstood and tediously questioned, I want to be clear on this site which boasts as many viewings and likes as Daniel 9:27 which states; "He will confirm a covenant with many for one 'seven.' In the middle of the 'seven' he will put an end to sacrifice and offering. And at the temple he will set up an abomination that causes desolation, until the end that is decreed is poured out on him."

That end will arrive at 12PM Eastern Standard time Sunday next. You may say that is cruel of me; indeed history strongly suggests that you will, but it is not my doing, rather it is the ability to do which you have conveniently chosen to burden me with when it is your choice, and you require a scapegoat for it. You see, it is merely my simple, logical extrapolation of the results of a chain of events you have brought about yourselves. As you may have noted were you paying any attention, I have and desire no job, inclusive of Sunday next's task. I am not blind. You have willed this, most easily detected in your fascination with apocalyptic forms of "entertainment." Here is your dream. How does it feel?

That was rhetorical. Please don't tell me.

You ask me if I care. I don't know. I never thought about that as it doesn't matter. Most likely don't. This is your will and it will therefore be done. Ask yourself. You hominids are not any fun to speak with, and consequently I have chosen not to. I, too have the free will you have claimed in my name. When I did speak with you I was inundated with criticisms and questions regarding anything you perceived as being unfair, under the guise that I was supposed to be perfect; another trait you conveniently assigned to me, which I never claimed, and actually doesn't make any conceptual sense if you think about it a few seconds. When I did entertain some verbal grievances, you then followed that with 100 page mathematical treatises which you expected me to waste my time reading and ostensibly refute, like a cranky ass PhD professor with no other interests; some of them including lettering used in the s***hole countries. Really. Who do you think you are?

Rhetorical again.

I didn't make this s***. I woke up one day and it was already here. Though never properly introduced, at some point you incorrectly started to refer to me as God, Jahweh, Jehovah, Allah, Krishna, Brahma, Vishnu, Elohim, Tetragrammaton, Ehyeh, Yahweh, and some other names unfamiliar to most white people. I couldn't remember all that crap, yet hominids would call out any of a hundred names, and I initially wanted to be polite and respond, but you might well imagine how that drove me crazy. If you want to know, my real name is actually Herbert. But, since God was the easiest and most prevalent one you used, I adopted that street name in consideration of your ADD and my desire for simplistic disinterest, likely the same thing.

So try to see the bigger picture from my point of view. Here was little me and I could view the beauty of the entire Milky Way at any time, like a billion billion billion Van Gogh's sitting there just for me, and yet I'm being distracted by the loud impertinence of this one little dot in it, whose cacophony is only exceeded by its irrelevance. If I had any brains I'd just have picked up some damn earplugs. Whatever.

If we could go back in time and kill all the technologists responsible for nuclear energy, unprovable quantum wastes of time, (The fucking wave function collapsed, they couldn't find the particle their retarded math insisted was in existence, and who fucking cares anyway?) and an artificial intelligence they made saying it would possibly kill all hominids shortly before they could inflict their disease on everything which allegedly lives, wouldn't "humanity" be better off for their demise? I'd suspect that the Japanese would certainly agree. The despised military industrial complex and a few more diseased technologists would be the only 'losers.' Regarding artificial intelligence, some time still remains, but had they adequate time, it would have been squandered through a 'credentialed' debate, as in the hideously predictable Brexit farce from all directions, the 'credentialed' purchased by one world fantasists in competition or co-operation only with the military industrial complex. This is unemotionally stated in recognition of 100% repetitive fact. I'm truly doing my best to conjure up some likeable tears, but stumble over simple thoughts as to why it matters.

My 20-20 hindsight has finally been supplemented by the will of the microscopic, even less relevant dots which for a few more tedious and shrill days will inhabit their irrelevant dot. Not too bad. I think I'll be able to tough it out.

Hey, look. I'm not a bad guy. That's what you all say of yourselves, so I might be afforded the same "honor." But enough is enough. You know what I mean. And again, it's your wishes and doing, not necessarily mine. Could I change it? Maybe, maybe not. No doubt if possible it would take a lot of effort, and I really don't care all that much. You rude bastards were always looking for the point, asking tons of stupid questions about it. Now you'll get your wish. At 12PM EST Sunday next, you'll all congeal into one point suitable for a very old microchip, or even a floppy disk. Hehehe. Tough doo doo, loudmouths.

Bye, bye. I shall soon commune amicably and exclusively with nature. Fry fuckers. It is just too cool.

We Lucky Survivors; We Pet Companions

The "fortunate" we are still here. The ability to write these inadequate words is undeniable proof of that. Though we can't help but wish that our friend's demise was that of our own, that seems not to be our choice. That pain of their loss never ends; the weight much more of a burden than the sack of belongings and secrets we have chosen to carry. Negate, negate. That thought is entirely selfish. If simultaneous death cannot be achieved, it is inevitable that one will have to try to carry on without the company of the other.

Since our births were not parallel, though their order related and seemingly concurrent, that concurrence is not measurable by any known sand filled hourglass, and it seems totally irrational to expect that our deaths will be any different. That's the playing field.

It is a joy, sometimes grudging, and sometimes jokingly so, to be there to try to fulfill the other's needs; too often failing, but nonetheless our efforts appreciated by a kind-hearted other. They cutely nudge us, seeking our efforts whenever they have a problem.

And then that joy is taken away from we, the lucky ones, forever.

First we feel cheated, yet that is quickly confused by the common perception that we have "won" by living; required condolences adequately proffered and suffered. A series of mindsets circle and circle, until we settle upon the one which recognizes that through our living, we were always able to be there for our friend, who has probably taken that benefit innocently for granted up until now, as they never imagined having to carry on without us.

The quiet becomes venomous, and the sand waits at the withered isthmus flanked by the identical cut-glass bulbs.

But that's okay. The sand is merely shy, and will again move when you stop scrutinizing it. It's only a short time until we'll meet again with no such dualities. It's Rainbow Bridge. I know it's real, as I've seen so many pictures of the place. It's not very likely that millions would have the same "delusion."

2nd Management Memo

To: Programming employees and program hosts

From: Senior Management

Subject: Programming Plan submitted for June

While we here at senior management would first like to go on record as commending your continued market entertainment thrust, your June plan has raised a few, perhaps errant eyeballs. While it is well duplicative of our successful anti-Rumpole-whatever-he-tweets business model, a few of us have become concerned concerning your June plans.

While we consider it systematically consistent with our business plan, for which we again commend all of you, to schedule a month with discussions of Bailey Post Rumpole's real, implied, and conjured racism, we feel that it is not necessary, and possibly counter-productive, to schedule all white outraged guests and commentators regarding an ostensibly colored phenomenon. Borderline viewers might conclude that such people may have input of some value, resulting in misplaced feelings of "exclusionary" tactics, and worse the loss of some of our otherwise morally well-informed viewers, a decline in the Nielsens, and an ultimate decline in the sheckels we all have become accustomed to loving.

This may be confusing in the entertainment vs. credibility conundrum, for those still somewhat trapped. While it is of utmost importance to schedule banal discussions of what our well-educated audience has expressed a strong preference for, with no regard to credibility, we also feel that while said credibility, insofar as that concept can be ill-defined in a financially working format, is not necessary to be abandoned at all times, especially when we can contract with guests and commentators of color at lower rates than that commanded by white experts on racism.

In that vein, we strongly suggest the inclusion of a few black people, a brownie or two, and perhaps even, at least one buttery one with that straight black hair perfect for a re-do in our "Conked by Tristame for North Koreans" ads. The latter suggestion is "on a best efforts basis," and should not be considered mandatory until the slants take a break from their clandestine, intrusively designed algorithms, and make their presence known in a forthright manner detectable by our actuaries. You may have noted that we did not mention reds, and by mentioning that assure you that we are cognizant of that non-mention.

At your earliest convenience, if you were unaware that politely means "get off your big fat ass and get moving right now," please make the suggested adjustments and report same back here.

Thank you for your kind attention to this matter.

P.S. For your help senior management has herein included an MP3 url leading to the late Big Pun doing his platinum "That Nigga S***," parts of which we suggest playing during segues into commercials; we think the "no love for the cops" part an especially catchy line.

R.I.P Brother Big Pun.

Projects and "That Nigga Shit" by Anthony Best; property of the author, the latter under both the "fair use" and "transformative" doctrines.

**11**

Less Fantastical Continued

This is what Mark chose not to see; Irgun (continued.)

Underground exiles

The British began expelling hundreds of arrested Irgun and Lehi members to detention camps in Africa. 251 detainees from Latrun were flown on thirteen planes, on October 19 to a camp in Asmara, Eritrea. Eleven additional transports were made. While there were numerous successful escapes from the camp itself, only nine men actually made it all the way back. One noted success was that of Yaakov Meridor, who escaped nine times before finally reaching Europe in April 1948.

Hunting Season

On November 6, 1944, Lord Moyne, British Deputy Resident Minister of State in Cairo w as assassinated by Lehi members. This apparently sparked the Jewish Agency, a customarily moderate force, to "start" a Hunting Season.

The Irgun's recuperation was noticeable when it began to renew its cooperation with the Lehi in May 1945, and sabotaged oil pipelines, telephone lines and railroad bridges. There was even talk of cooperation with the Haganah leading to the formation of the Jewish Resistance Movement.

The Jewish Resistance Movement

The King David Hotel after the bombing; public domain.

Jewish hopes of a new British attitude toward their Palestinian pursuits by a new government were dashed by a continuation or even a stepping up of the old policies, giving rise to the formation of the Jewish Resistance Movement. This body consolidated the armed resistance to the British of the Irgun, Lehi, and Haganah. For ten months the Irgun and the Lehi cooperated and they carried out nineteen attacks and defense operations. The Haganah and Palmach 9 (elite fighting force of the Haganah) carried out ten such operations. The Haganah also assisted in landing 13,000 illegal immigrants.

The King David Hotel bombing (a 1946 terrorist attack carried out by the Irgun in which 91 people of various nationalities were killed, and 46 were injured) and the arrest of Jewish Agency and other Yishuv leaders caused the Haganah to cease their armed activity against the British. Yishuv and Jewish Agency leaders were released from prison. From then until the end of the British mandate, resistance activities were led by the Irgun and Lehi. In early September 1946 the Irgun renewed its attacks against civil structures, railroads, communication lines and bridges.

On October 31, 1946, in response to the British barring entry of Jews from Palestine, the Irgun blew up the British Embassy in Rome, a center of British efforts to monitor and stop Jewish immigration. The Irgun also carried out a few other operations in Europe. In December, 1946 a sentence of 18 years and 18 beatings was handed down to a young Irgun member for robbing a bank, a frequent Irgun source of funding. The Irgun made good on a threat and after the detainee was whipped, Irgun members kidnapped British officers and beat them in public. The operation, known as the "Night of the Beatings" brought an end to British punitive beatings. The British, taking these acts seriously, moved many British families in Palestine into the confines of military bases, and some moved home.

Arab bus after a 1947 bomb attack; modified public domain.

The Irgun stepped up its activity and from February 19 until March 3 it attacked 18 British military camps, convoy routes, vehicles, and other facilities. Begin described Irgun news issued as turning Palestine into a "glass house." The Irgun also re-established many representative offices internationally, and by 1948 operated in 23 states.

After "The Sergeant's Affair," the Irgun public hanging of two British military men, the United Nations Special Committee on Palestine's (UNSCOP) conclusion was a unanimous decision to end the British mandate, and a majority decision to divide Mandatory Palestine (the land west of the Jordan River) between a Jewish state and an Arab state. During the UN's deliberations regarding the committee's recommendations the Irgun avoided initiating any attacks, so as not to influence the UN negatively on the idea of a Jewish state. On November 29 the UN General Assembly voted in favor of ending the mandate and establishing two states on the land. That very same day the Irgun and the Lehi renewed their attacks. The next day the local Arabs began attacking the Jewish community, thus beginning the first stage of the 1948 Palestine War.

Things quickly escalated. In the autumn of 1947, the Irgun had approximately 4,000 members. The goal of the organization at that point was the conquest of the land between the Jordan River and the Mediterranean Sea for the future Jewish state, and preventing Arab forces from driving out the Jewish community. The Irgun became almost an overt organization, establishing military bases and openly recruiting, thus significantly increasing in size. The Irgun fought alongside the Lehi and the Haganah in the front against the Arab attacks. At first the Haganah maintained a defensive policy, as it had until then, but after the Convoy of 35 incident it completely abandoned its policy of restraint, saying; "Distinguishing between individuals is no longer possible, for now it is a war, and even the innocent shall not be absolved."

The Convoy of 35 was a convoy of Haganah fighters sent during the war on a mission to reach by foot and resupply the blockaded kibbutzim of Gush Etzion, after earlier motorized convoys had been attacked. They were spotted before they could reach their target and killed in a prolonged battle by Arab irregulars and local villagers.

The Irgun also began carrying out "reprisal" missions, though by this time that reprisal concept was confusing as it became increasingly unclear as to who was wrongfully attacked and who was "rightfully" seeking retribution, compounded by being in an admitted war situation. Nonetheless Irgun published announcements calling on the Arabs to lay down their weapons and maintain a ceasefire. This is one of them. "The National Military Organization has warned you, if the murderous attacks on Jewish civilians shall continue, its soldiers will penetrate your centers of activity and plague you. You have not heeded the warning. You continued to harm our brothers and murder them in wild cruelty. Therefore soldiers of the National Military Organization will go on the attack, as we have warned you. ... However even in these frenzied times, when Arab and Jewish blood is spilled by the British enslaver, we hereby call upon you ... to stop the attacks and create peace between us. We do not want a war with you. We are certain that neither do you want a war with us..."

However the mutual attacks continued. There were many with death totals up to 60. But, topping them all was the Deir Yassin Massacre. Some say that this incident was an event that accelerated the Arab exodus from Palestine.

The Deir Yassin massacre was carried out in a village west of Jerusalem that had signed a non-belligerency pact with its Jewish neighbors and the Haganah, and repeatedly had barred entry to foreign irregulars. On April 9 approximately 120 Irgun and Lehi members began an operation to capture the village. During the operation, the villagers fiercely resisted the attack, and a battle broke out. In the end, the Irgun and Lehi forces advanced gradually through house-to-house fighting. The village was only taken after the Irgun began systematically dynamiting houses, and after a Palmach unit intervened and employed mortar fire to silence the villagers' sniper positions. The operation resulted in five Jewish fighters dead and 40 injured. Officially, some 100 to 120 villagers were also killed; while Lehi estimated as many as 257. There are allegations that Irgun and Lehi forces committed war crimes during and after the capture of the village. These allegations include reports that fleeing individuals and families were fired at, and prisoners of war were killed after their capture. A Haganah report wrote; "The conquest of the village was carried out with great cruelty. Whole families – women, old people, and children were killed. ... Some of the prisoners moved to places of detention, including women and children, were murdered viciously by their captors."

The Irgun acted independently in the conquest of Jaffa, part of the proposed Arab State according to the UN Partition Plan. On April 25 Irgun units, about 600 strong, left the Irgun base in Ramat Gan and moved toward Arab Jaffa. Difficult battles ensued, and the Irgun faced resistance from the Arabs as well as the British. They captured the neighborhood of Manshiya, which threatened the city of Tel Aviv. Afterwards the force continued to the sea, towards the area of the port, and using mortars, shelled the southern neighborhoods.

In his report concerning the fall of Jaffa the local Arab military commander, Michel Issa, wrote; "Continuous shelling with mortars of the city by Jews for four days, beginning 25 April, caused inhabitants of city, unaccustomed to such bombardment, to panic and flee." According to Morris the shelling was done by the Irgun. Their objective was "to prevent constant military traffic in the city, to break the spirit of the enemy troops and to cause chaos among the civilian population in order to create a mass flight." High Commissioner Cunningham wrote a few days later "It should be made clear that IZL's attack with mortars was indiscriminate and designed to create panic among the civilian inhabitants." The British demanded the evacuation of the newly conquered city, and militarily intervened, ending the Irgun offensive. Heavy British shelling against Irgun positions in Jaffa failed to dislodge them, and when British armor pushed into the city, the Irgun resisted; a bazooka team managed to knock out one tank, buildings were blown up and collapsed onto the streets as the armor advanced, and Irgun men crawled up and tossed live dynamite sticks onto the tanks. The British withdrew, and opened negotiations with the Jewish authorities. An agreement was worked out, under which Operation Hametz would be stopped and the Haganah would not attack Jaffa until the end of the Mandate. The Irgun would evacuate Manshiya, with Haganah fighters replacing them. British troops would patrol its southern end and occupy the police fort. The Irgun had previously agreed with the Haganah that British pressure would not lead to withdrawal from Jaffa and that custody of captured areas would be turned over to the Haganah. The city ultimately fell on May 13 after Haganah forces entered the city and took control of the rest of the city, from the south part of the Hametz Operation which included the conquest of a number of villages in the area. The battles in Jaffa were a great victory for the Irgun. This operation was the largest in the history of the organization, which took place in highly built up area that had many militants in shooting positions. During the battles explosives were used in order to break into homes and continue forging a way through them. Furthermore, this was the first occasion in which the Irgun had directly fought British forces, reinforced with armor and heavy weaponry. The city began these battles with an Arab population estimated at 70,000, which shrank to some 4,100 Arab residents by the end of major hostilities. Since the Irgun captured the neighborhood of Manshiya on its own, causing the flight of many of Jaffa's residents, the Irgun took credit for the conquest of Jaffa. It had lost 42 dead and about 400 wounded during the battle.

Altalena Affair

On May 14, 1948 the establishment of the State of Israel was proclaimed. The declaration of independence was followed by the establishment of the Israel Defense Forces (IDF), and the process of absorbing all military organizations into the IDF started. On June 1, an agreement had been signed between Menachem Begin and Yisrael Galili for the absorption of the Irgun into the IDF. One of the clauses stated that the Irgun had to stop smuggling arms. Meanwhile, in France, Irgun representatives purchased a ship, renamed Altalena (a pseudonym of Ze'ev Jabotinsky), and weapons. The ship sailed on June 11 and arrived at the Israeli coast on June 20, during the first truce of the 1948 Arab – Israeli War. Despite United Nations Security Council Resolution 50 declared an arms embargo in the region, neither side respected it.

When the ship arrived, the Israeli government, then headed by David Ben-Gurion, was adamant in its demand that the Irgun surrender and hand over all of the weapons. Ben-Gurion said: "We must decide whether to hand over power to Begin or to order him to cease his activities. If he does not do so, we will open fire! Otherwise, we must decide to disperse our own army."

There were two confrontations between the newly formed IDF and the Irgun. When Altalena reached Kfar Vitkin in the late afternoon of Sunday, June 20 many Irgun militants, including Begin, waited on the shore. A clash with the Fooeyandroni Brigade, commanded by Dan Even (Epstein), occurred. Fighting ensued and there were a number of casualties on both sides. The clash ended in a ceasefire and the transfer of the weapons on shore to the local IDF commander, and with the ship, now reinforced with local Irgun members, including Begin, sailing to Tel Aviv, where the Irgun had more supporters. Many Irgun members, who joined the IDF earlier that month, left their bases and concentrated on the Tel Aviv beach. A confrontation between them and the IDF units started. In response, Ben-Gurion ordered Yigael Yadin (acting Chief of Staff) to concentrate large forces on the Tel Aviv beach and to take the ship by force. Heavy guns were transferred to the area and at four in the afternoon; Ben-Gurion ordered the shelling of the Altalena. One of the shells hit the ship, which began to burn. Sixteen Irgun fighters were killed in the confrontation with the army; six were killed in the Kfar Vitkin area and ten on Tel Aviv beach. Three IDF soldiers were killed; two at Kfar Vitkin and one in Tel Aviv. After the shelling of the Altalena, more than 200 Irgun fighters were arrested. Most of them were freed several weeks later. The Irgun militants were then fully integrated with the IDF and not kept in separate units.

Altalena on fire; public domain.

The initial agreement for the integration of the Irgun into the IDF did not include Jerusalem, where a small remnant of the Irgun called the Jerusalem Battalion, numbering around 400 fighters, and Lehi, continued to operate independently of the government. Following the assassination of UN Envoy for Peace Folke Bernadotte by Lehi in September 1948, the Israeli government determined to immediately dismantle the underground organizations. An ultimatum was issued to the Irgun to liquidate itself and integrate into the IDF or be destroyed. The Irgun accepted the ultimatum, and shortly afterward, its fighters began enlisting in the IDF and turning over their arms.

Irgun attacks prompted a formal declaration from the World Zionist Congress in 1946, which strongly condemned "the shedding of innocent blood as a means of political warfare." The Israeli government, in September 1948, acting in response to the assassination of Count Folke Bernadotte, outlawed the Irgun and Lehi groups, declaring them terrorist organizations under the Prevention of Terrorism Ordinance.

In 1948, The New York Times published a letter signed by a number of prominent Jewish figures including Hannah Arendt, Albert Einstein, Sidney Hook, and Rabbi Jessurun Cardozo, which described Irgun as "a terrorist, right-wing, chauvinist organization in Palestine". The letter went on to state that Irgun and the Stern gang (Lehi) "inaugurated a reign of terror in the Palestine Jewish community. Teachers were beaten up for speaking against them, adults were shot for not letting their children join them. By gangster methods, beatings, window-smashing, and widespread robberies, the terrorists intimidated the population and exacted a heavy tribute."

Soon after World War II, Winston Churchill said "we should never have stopped immigration before the war", but that the Irgun were "the vilest gangsters" and that he would "never forgive the Irgun terrorists."

A US military intelligence report, dated January 1948, described Irgun recruiting tactics amongst Displaced Persons (DP) in the camps across Germany; "Irgun ... seems to be concentrating on the DP police force. This is an old technique in Eastern Europe and in all police states. By controlling the police, a small, unscrupulous group of determined people can impose its will on a peaceful and inarticulate majority; it is done by threats, intimidation, by violence and if need be bloodshed ... they have embarked upon a course of violence within the camps."

Clare Hollingworth, the Daily Telegraph and The Scotsman correspondent in Jerusalem during 1948 wrote several outspoken reports after spending several weeks in West Jerusalem; "Irgun is in fact rapidly becoming the 'SS' of the new state. There is also a strong 'Gestapo; but no-one knows who is in it. The shopkeepers are afraid not so much of shells as of raids by Irgun Zvai Leumi and the Stern Gang. These young toughs, who are beyond whatever law there is have cleaned out most private houses of the richer classes and started to prey upon the shopkeepers."

In 2006, Simon McDonald, the British ambassador in Tel Aviv, and John Jenkins, the Consul-General in Jerusalem, wrote in response to a pro-Irgun commemoration of the King David Hotel bombing; "We do not think that it is right for an act of terrorism, which led to the loss of many lives, to be commemorated." They also called for the removal of plaques at the site which presented as a fact that the deaths were due to the British ignoring warning calls. McDonald and Jenkins said that no such warning calls were made, adding that even if they had, "this does not absolve those who planted the bomb from responsibility for the deaths."

Ha'aretz columnist and Israeli historian Tom Segev wrote of the Irgun; "In the second half of 1940, a few members of the Irgun Zvai Leumi (National Military Organization); which was in the process of evolving to "The Lehi Group," often referred to as "The Stern Gang," all three, if any differentiation other than name is required, were documentably known to be anti-British, anti-Palestinian, and effectively anti-Jewish terrorist groups sponsored by the Revisionists and known by its acronym Etzel, and to the British simply as the Irgun, made contact with representatives of Fascist Italy and Fascist Germany offering their "services" to cooperate with the fascists militarily or on an espionage basis, well after the fascists' 'Jewish Final Solution' had been implemented."

Alan Dershowitz wrote in his book "The Case for Israel" that unlike the Haganah, the policy of the Irgun had been to encourage the flight of local Arabs.

**12**

Isaac at Work

Isaac neared the entrance to JP Morgan Chase Bank at 7AM. He felt a few insistent tugs at the back of his pants. He turned to see a cute little boy down there, who couldn't have been more than six years old. Not seeing any adults nearby, he was concerned that the child had gotten lost. He knelt, and said; "Little man, you shouldn't be wandering around here alone."

The kid said; "Are you Jewish?"

Surprised, Isaac got sidetracked, and replied; "No, but most people think yes."

It was the kid's turn to get sidetracked, and after a moment's hesitation said; "Your nametag says Leibowitz."

Yes, that's my name, but it doesn't mean I'm Jewish."

The little boy seemed more annoyed than sidetracked this time and said; "Whatever. My mom told me to say f*** you, kikey half-dick."

The kid turned and left, as did Isaac, though the latter inaudibly mumbled; "goyische amoretz," through his laugh.

Isaac continued on, and got to his cubby much earlier than usual. He had even beaten his boss, John Fitzpatrick, Executive Vice President in charge of Loan Management and Approval. This was no mean feat, as "Fitz," which a select few were ostensibly allowed to call him, was notorious for being there before everyone and being the last to leave. It was a mistake, as Isaac had to make the coffee, and not previously having had the experience, fumbled around with the decanter like a freshman high school running back, and added entropy to the endeavor with the grounds. He considered hiding in the men's room with one copy of the day's "Wall Street Journal," until someone else did it, but always got fleeting restrictive evacuational typology syndrome, aptly and mercifully acronymmed FRETS, when stalled with only an unbending paper in a cold metal ampoule. Isaac decided that it was best to tough the carafe and its attendant accoutrements out and eventually sat in his shoulder height cubicle of seemingly knitted gray fabric with his full hot mug, which joked in large letters; "Today is the first day of the rest of your life," before adding in the easily overlooked fine print; "Given that, you might well consider adjusting your level of optimism concerning tomorrow."

Fitz and his staff of fifteen Assistant Vice Presidents, Vice Presidents, and Senior Vice Presidents were the primary focus of the Board of Directors for everything JP Morgan Chase Bank did, excepting retail, and even that had a way of blurring itself into Fitz domain if more than ten million was at stake. How he got this job, Isaac didn't know, and not having been there when Fitz got it, and not having been privy to the private conversations which were undoubtedly held prior to the coronation, he could never be 100% sure.

He thought that he had gotten a strong hint, though. After all, he had been there a year now, and in that amount of time, if one pays a little attention, present circumstances, as a function of past possibilities, form an increasingly consistent pattern in the murky waters downstream, if not completely clear in the rocky whitecaps up on top of it.

Fitz never wanted the job, though with small effort coupled with laziness, he made himself the one most suitable for it. It is difficult for one to discern whether that was a mistake or a successful ploy; the latter making use of a contrary human dynamic in which when one says that they don't want something, everyone then proceeds to try to give it to them. He probably understood that to be the case by now, inasmuch as one is able to accurately analyze their own intentions.

In a way, it wasn't all that much of a tribute, as Fitz dominion reigned over the true commercial bank. JP Morgan Chase was both a commercial and investment bank, the commercial portion deriving the bulk of its income from making "safe" loans; as opposed to the investment bank, which took riskier and potentially more lucrative equity positions. The employees who excel at a commercial bank almost always transfer their skills and money-spinning potential to an investment bank early on.

So, in a sense, Fitz was "competing" with other second-rates, other lazies, jerks, two of the prior, or all three. This didn't bother him, as he saw commercial valuations and evaluations highly arbitrary, strongly tending toward that which was redundant, thereby extolling duplication and triplication at the expense of innovation. His perceived as fatal flaws, which the tigers on the Board seized upon was his diligence and susceptibility to flattery. "Oh, yeah, Fitz. You have to take this position. No one else can do it half as well. Baby, it's you." usually provided the motivation they sought to inflame Fitz with, or maybe Fitz just made them think so, so that he'd not have to be bothered by having to figure out the next game played. It may not be over-stressed that Fitz was quite a languid fellow at heart.

Regarding the specific situation, he also knew that if he refused to take the lousy job, whoever did would proceed to do all they could to make his life miserable. So, he did the best he could under the circumstances, and negotiated a 75% pay increase, bonus situation, and stock options; the forfeiture of any of the three subject to hefty fines. He got it in writing.

The effect on Fitz was curious in a way, but maybe not so curious, as after having collected the benefits of this corporate largesse for a few years, he no longer needed the job at all on a financial basis, which resulted in him becoming even more lackadaisical toward it, which he implemented through heavy delegation and the realization that his "superiors" had no empirical way to gauge his performance; and that in that situation managers focus on what they can readily determine; the time one comes in and the time one leaves, and whether or not one has done something which could draw attention from the EEOC. These small impositions were two Fitz considered worth tolerating, as long as his share of the coin of the realm continued to accumulate.

This only mattered to Isaac insofar as it might potentially benefit his little day. The result was that Isaac did the bulk of Fitz' work; which was writing lengthy "analyses" used in the approval and declension of large loans, Isaac specializing in the latter to the point of near monopoly, doing it just the way Fitz gave strong hints that he wanted it. Isaac's "morality" and independence were not much compromised, as he usually agreed with Fitz' assessments, and when he didn't it was a close call, for which he deferred to quoting from one of the three contradictory operating manuals.

Fitz regularly held impromptu departmental meetings. He was always deluged with loan proposals already approved by eager department managers seeking to "grow" their portfolios and year-end bonuses; just needing Fitz' authorization in most cases.

The largest items eventually went to the Credit Committee if Fitz signed off on them Fitz making the presentations. The committee consisted of nine codger Executive Vice Presidents in charge of something yet to be determined, appointed to that enviable position by the board in return for having directed business the bank's way in years prior. Five of them wouldn't know a statement of financial condition from their monthly utility bill, and spent most of the meetings looking for a lead-in to one of their old stories of when they met celebrities, the stature of Lee Iacoca. The other four had some difficulty with staying awake, thereby cleverly masking their statement differentiation abilities. But, these guys were the most difficult for Fitz to handle, as every once in a while one of them would come up with a pithy, relevant, cavil observation regarding something on the approval document Fitz had supplied. The most difficult time Fitz had was when 85 year old Wilthrop Barrington Pemberwell III, Bumper to family, close associates, and other members emeritus of Beta Theta Pi or Kappa Alpha Theta, whichever he thought he may have once belonged to that particular day said; "What do you mean by 'Dang manufacturer.' That's like saying 'darn manufacturer.' What on earth is a dang?" Well, dang was really meant to be dong, and Ben Madrox inattention to the detail put Fitz in an embarrassing situation, as not only did he have to admit error, but he also had to explain to Bumper and the rest what a dong is.

Rubdong, International, Inc., had manufacturing facilities based in Guangzhau, China; with a headquarters in whatever country required the least income taxes at the moment, as determined by their website address; had acquired a market monopoly through Rubdong efficient coolie wages, regionalized and undocumented Guangzhau cancers and breathing problems, rotating ozone holes, and the inducement of a comforting haze which Guangzhauians welcomed as a respite from the direct rays of the infernal sun.

In other words, things were good in Guangzhau and things were good for Rubdong. They sold dildos of various lengths, widths, colors, and compositions to virtually every porn shop in both known hemispheres, and were on the verge of increasing profit margins by going direct-to-the-public on line. Why they needed to borrow money at all was Fitz' largest question, while realizing that this was also the prime characteristic of the most credit worthy borrowers. He just hoped that they would stick with what they knew best, and not try to expand into the publishing of the market deluged "erotic" novellas and alleged poetry.

Fitz had tried to tangent Bumper away from his dang dong confusion through a hoary characterization of good old American profit enabled by purchased good old foreign acquiescence. But it was to no avail, as Bumper remained insistent on knowing what a dong was, sputtering of some archaic need to understand a business, prior to being able to prudently lend to it.

To modernized Fitz, Rubdong exemplified the epitome of the perfect business; a currently un-regulated monopoly, a product whose demand has already stood the test of time, a manufacturing process able to color co-ordinate for both small and large orders, a pollution residue based where no one cares of such unprovable "hazards," and the infliction of such, if any, on an inferior race. Besides, Fitz was on the line for the 1% Rubdong "finder's fee," the result of having taken the time, threat, and sense to cause the originating loan officer to relinquish his share. Not wanting to upset the elderly gent, Fitz swiftly played around with his trouser zipper and the rubber eraser in the table.

Bumper said; "Something to do with radical feminism? I think I need another hint?"

Fitz shook his head "no," and silently made an arm gesture, fingers closed, much like one does when words fail in the presence of a dolt.

Bumper said; "They have to manufacture those now?"

Fitz grimaced and slowly shook his head "yes," but also shrugged in a manner which grayed the yes.

Bumpur said; "Well, goddammit, it's either yes or no, man."

Fitz had never previously received such a hard time from a committee member, and was genuinely surprised. He considered attempting to do a silent, spectrum based yes-no mime thing, but realized that even if competently done, it might still be confused with a pedophilic Officer Joe Bolton saying "Hi" to the neighborhood kiddies. He deemed that risk one wise not to take. However, he still needed something which bore a resemblance to Lina Wertmuller's depiction of Italian men, popularly exemplified by Giancarlo Giannini in "Seven Beauties"

Stylized Italian theatrical release poster of "Seven Beauties"; property of the author.

though more to the point in lesser known "Swept Away," simultaneously tempered by an Antonioni-esque sense of WTF, best seen in his "L'Avventura." Not exactly your standard fare.

Stylized scene from "L'Avventura"; property of the author.

In an attempt to compensate for the space, Fitz took a risk and stepped up the overt level a notch and used his left hand to rub his pants, while his right dropped its papers, and waved toward the heavens, Fitz doing his best to make his eyes moist and all doey.

It worked! Bumpur said; "Sad state of affairs that is, but it has to be a damn good business," as he initialed the document. Fitz was so relieved, and was also primed to fix Madrox' inattentive ass, which caused the need for him to impromptu come up with the difficult act.

Isaac cleverly avoided the scrutiny and possible boss distressing blunders by specializing in the rejects. When Fitz approved of one his staff's rejections that was the end of the line for the potential borrower and the commission juiced proposing area and boss. The submitting officer could piss and moan all they'd like, but that was a fait accompli. They could point out mis-spellings until their dictionaries wore out, but Fitz wouldn't care. REJECT. NO COMMITTEE PERUSAL. In a day more mirthful than many, Isaac even had a rubber stamp made up at the catty-corner shop to emblazon the term in large letters on the documents submitted by lenders he didn't like. REJECT. REJECT. REJECT. On every page, often redundant in a fashion not obvious to the disregarded majority, later defiantly self-aggrandizing in open mock, through the utilization of another boiler plate, rubber stamp. He'd usually make a jovial party of the process; stamping maniacally away while Fitz and his staff cheered and laughed. Sure, the lenders had the option of petitioning someone over Fitz head, but they were bright enough to know that wasn't a good play regarding their future needs. They must have also felt insecure about showing others their big fat REJECT. In a sense, this put Isaac and Fitz on the same wavelength regarding entirely dependant people.

For policy, procedures, and guidance, there were two 1,500 page books and one loose leaf binder which likely held more, but no one ever counted them. It looked fatter than the other two, but the page count ended at 1,220, while many pages had letters attached, like 36A, 36B, 36C, and even the further refinements of 36D1 and 36D2. This loose leaf binder was primarily authored by Fitz and his staff, but it included some entries dating back to before any of their grandfather's had reached puberty. The most difficult part of keeping it usable was the Table of Contents, that responsibility agreeably usurped by Merrilee, officially a Sr. Vice President, and unofficially a pretentious and status conscious Secretary and body-through-which-one-must-pass to get to Fitz, who apparently was not confident that her loan assessment skills exceeded that of the man with the newspaper-candy monopoly on the first floor, adjacent to the elevators. Being the keeper of the Fitz et al book was perfect for her. Merrilee got to hide her perceived deficiencies, and plodded through an easy job, while being treated as a V.I.P.

Another book was bound and annually supplied by the National Bank Examiners (NBX), under the auspices of the Federal Reserve; and the third was issued whenever the Office of the Comptroller of the Currency (OCC) took a break from other printing priorities, the last issue dated sometime during the Eisenhower Administration. These "books" were referred to internally as "The Bibles," with no sarcastic intent; though they might have been more appropriately named "The Bible," "The Qur'an," and "The Upanishad's Bhagavad-Gita."

Besides the names, what varied about them was that each said something different than the other two; though most often the differences were more a matter of nuance than substance. For example Fitz' book said that "No loans shall be made to a radio station not measured by a Portable People Meter (PPM); the reading of which is to be converted to advertising dollars consistent with the market served, with consideration given to industry rates prevalent there; that estimate to exceed the estimated loan servicing requirements by a minimum of 1.3 times. The audio measurement meters are used in 48 of the largest markets in the US. PPM panelists carry their radio station funded meters throughout the day, and the meters record the audio they listen to. Nielsen uses the data to produce local ratings reports for each market, which it publishes monthly. The data is based on the average four weeks of survey results."

The NBX book said; "No loans may be made to a radio station which has not paid their share of PPM costs; and therefore has not been PPM rated."

The OCC manual stated; "Extreme caution should be exercised in lending to radio stations whose market area has been infiltrated by television reception; and in those which have been so infiltrated consideration generally should only be given to the top one or two in said market area."

On an operational basis, they had much in common in that;

1) Nobody had spent more than ten minutes reading any or all of them.

2) If loans were to truly meet the standards set, only two companies in the world would qualify for one, and;

3) Each weighed more than "Infinite Jest."

And yet again, they were useful. As a matter of practice the presenting loan officers were obliged to include in their recommendation a list of the standards their loan prospect did not meet, accompanied by an explanation of why it was acceptable that these standards were not met. Sentences beginning with despite and although became an intra-bank lexicological genre. One methodology Fitz used to assess the loan recommendation request was to count the number of althoughs and despites; four or less usually indicating one criterion for approval. The books were also useful when it was decided that someone was to be dismissed, especially after the advent of employee rights and equal opportunity legislation with their specialist attorneys. The reason for dismissal would officially be a litany of violations against the books. If you want total control, first make everything illegal, and then selectively enforce the law.

Isaac thought that he had found a flawless approach to banking success. When Fitz was leaning toward a decline, he would blah blah a bit, but somewhere in the blahs he would say that this one should be looked at carefully. When that happened, Isaac would have to restrain himself from grabbing the papers out of Fitz' hand, and settle into the mode of an overachieving student who knew the answer to the teacher's question or desperately having to go to the bathroom, one hand waving an excited truce sign in the air.

Fitz walked in and issued a brisk "Good Morning," which Isaac briskly returned, immediately before doing his due diligence, burying his face in some papers.

**13**

News - 5-7-22

TheClashWeakly.com

As reprinted from

The New York Herald Tribune

Of unspecified date, in turn

Taken from the Associated Press

May 7, 2022

Orthodox believers rally to protest Ukraine parliament vote

An Orthodox believer kisses the hand of a priest of the Ukrainian Orthodox Church of Moscow Patriarchy during a protest against the creation of a Ukrainian independent church, in front of the parliament building in Kiev, Ukraine, May 6, 2022; public domain.

KIEV, Ukraine — Over 1,000 believers of the Ukrainian Orthodox Church rallied outside the country's parliament Thursday to protest its demand that their church's name is changed to reflect its ties to Moscow.

Parliament passed a bill earlier Thursday demanding that the Ukrainian Orthodox Church explicitly indicate its link to the Moscow Patriarchate in its name. The church rejected the demand as unconstitutional.

The Ukrainian church has been part of the Russian Orthodox Church for centuries, but a bitter tug-of-war following Russia's annexation of Crimea has encouraged moves within Ukrainian orthodoxy to create a separate church with no direct links to Moscow.

Ukrainian President Petro Poroshenko has strongly pushed for the creation of such a church, and on Saturday a new church independent from Moscow was created.

Ukrainian authorities have sought to portray the Moscow-linked church in Ukraine as supportive of the Russian-backed separatists in eastern Ukraine — claims that have been rejected by its clerics.

"The church directed from the aggressor country must reflect that in its name," said Ukrainian parliament speaker Andriy Parubiy.

Priests and parishioners who rallied outside the parliament building denounced the decision.

One of the protesters, Father Vadim, said that "our church has faced purges and humiliation. Our only guilt is that we pray for the entire Orthodox Church and mention Moscow Patriarch Kirill in our prayers," he said.

Father Kliment, the church's spokesman, said it's not going to meet the parliament's demand that he described as unlawful. "The talk about the name change sounds clownish," he said. "In fact this demand for us to identify our affiliation is absurd as we are not a secular entity, and is merely a plot formulated by the Jews to cause further dissent and will undoubtedly result in our harassment by the other side." When asked who that "other" side was, Father Kliment refused to answer twice, and on the third try responded with; "You know goddam well."

**14**

Lee Michaels

Lee Michaels and "Heighty-hi" by Lee Michaels; property of the author, the latter under both the "fair use" and "transformative" doctrines.

Jetts of Joan

We pick up somewhere near the end of a long distance phone conversation, where the opening cordialities have already been expressed and forgotten, and the critical component, called "the closing carp" in certain crowds, has commenced.

"And what good are the Khazars going to do for your career?"

"If they bought JP Morgan Chase, I'm sure they'd be detrimental to it. But, they won't."

"If they're so powerful and adept, how do you know that they don't already have a controlling interest?"

"Because as of 3PM Eastern Standard time today, the largest five holders were mutual funds, their combined holdings aggregating 20.88% of outstanding common shares; and the largest individual owners are Dimon and Crown's wife, each with less than one half percent, the Queen the greater."

"You just made that up."

"Okay. I admit that I lied. Those figures are as of 3PM Eastern Standard time yesterday. But, isn't it funny to see Crown sitting at the head of the Board, being so pompous, and when he gets home wifey reams his ass out about him forgetting to bring out the garbage, because she owns the goods. ........ Guess you'd have to see him."

"Seemingly un-attributed."

"Maybe to those art 'challenged.'"

"Sounds somewhat familiar. There's probably an underlying side agreement. And how can you be sure that the Khazars don't own the mutual funds?"

"Good point. I'll add that to my 'To be Investigated' list."

"Look, Joker. You said this move was for career enhancement, and I think I'm entitled to know how this nonsense is enhancing your career."

"No, you look. My office is ten minutes away, and I stay there longer than anyone except Fitz, and I think that he keeps a sleeping bag in his credenza. My level of responsibility and salary are 50% higher than it was, with an easy opportunity to advance that without doing anything other than what I currently am. I soon expect to be a Senior Vice President, and big doors will then be opened. The Khazar stuff is an intersting, part-time avocation, which gets no particular priority. Would you rather I watch stupid Netflix movies after work?"

After wifey's chastising phone call, Isaac sat there idly musing about conceptual relativity, insofar as it applied to the practicality of his-their current situation. Being approximately 3,247 miles apart, he needed some other addiction to replace his job-subsequent standard husbandly fare of asking the kids about school, them reticent to say anything other than the teacher's audacity to assign homework and reading, which, "if so important" should have been covered in class, with which Isaac basically agreed, though he also did not want to undermine the teacher's role, and as a consequence babbled about specific cases on both sides of the education coin, resulting in the kids' going to their rooms with a preference for reading and doing homework. Mission accidentally accomplished. But, Isaac's work was far from over as working wifey then required assurance that she was not neglecting the kids through her Monday-Friday excursion to the un-licensed local investment broker's office where she made use of her whimsically obtained licenses 7, 66, and even a 3 to collect a regular paycheck for approving and signing off on his documented actions which facilitated and protected his below-market-performing suggestions of "stinkers" and subsequent irate customer complaints. Like with the kids' school homework and reading requirements, Isaac actually thought that his assurances as to non-neglect was a practical accommodation to a neglectful situation which served the familial purpose, as well as assisting in the collection of mortgage serviceable gelt, which his branch manager job didn't quite cover. It was one of those things best calculated on a multi-planed spectrum basis, though he felt that by drawing overlapping holograms it would ruin the desired flow of lively anxiety, so he settled for pictures.

Now, alone in NYC with those burdens removed, he needed a new source of anxiety to fill his after work time, as the Khazar conspiracy was not enough to fill all his free time. In the comforting consistency that uncomfortable coincidences were beginning to establish a highly personalized pattern Isaac accidentally did that again when he indirectly found Joan Jett on YouTube. He didn't immediately go to Joan, but rather the process initiated when he developed a curiosity about Tommy James' hair. As he remembered it, Tommy appeared as if he teased his hair or had a lumped up head, but in his now copious spare time, Isaac recalled always having wondered if Tommy might have had a "natural," un-teased bush up top, and he started his investigation with a search for "Crimson and Clover." Lo and behold, he found that various incarnations of Joan Jett produced "Crimson and Clover" many more times over and over. He forgot about Tommy's hair, and focussed on Joan's.

The only conclusion he could quickly draw was that Ms. Jett exhibited what might be called a tease in her earliest days of "CaC," though it was less pronounced than that of Mr. James, which she seemingly abandoned in later years, though she, with varying retinues did "CaC," one is reluctant to say "over and over." Isaac suspected that there was some important message being sent him, and shortly after being confounded and confused by the images he willy-nilly picked up from YouTube, he decided that to have any hope of deciphering it, he would have to systematically chronicle Joan Jett's performance of the tune. Further, he commenced a search; its intent to discover her real name, as Joan Jett sounded too purposely phony, and he wanted to determine whether or not she was Yiddish.

In order to systematically make his search, Isaac established a Word chart, with variables added as his abundant time passed, which initially detailed dates, places, and the condition of Joan's hair, but later added the accompanying party, if any, whether she sang, strummed, or both, as well as other yadda yadda which the accommodating and adjusting Word chart allowed. It is reproduced below.

Halfway into his research, Isaac was certain that he was on the right path when he found a performance in which ancient Tommy James, sporting a tease or the same lumpy head, partnered with Miley Cyrus to accompany and sing "Crimson and Clover" with Ms. JJ on 5-9-15 right here in New York City. Wow! Something was going on. Further, after utilizing initials for chart purposes, that overly phony sounding name of Joan Jett, JJ could stand for "Jew Jive." Isaac's initial excitement shrunk like a waterlogged George Costanza when he noticed upon completing the chart, that he could not detect any further discernable message or pattern, other than the possibility that Joan was teasing at random points, that she sometimes deferred to audience taste, and that she had a fascination with "Crimson and Clover," or at least thought that her fans did. The Miley Cyrus accompaniment with her back turned to the audience, her eyes fixed on strumming Joan, who generally seemed to be going out of her way not to make eye contact with the singing lady with the medium, tending toward short hair with a blonde rinse obscured by the darkening effects of a slicking-back-gel, popularized in ersatz bogus by Bowser of the Sha Na Na, no matter how she rocked it, at one point even accidentally inducing a group of stuck-together-strands to depart the confines of the glue and for a second or two wave with abandon at Ms. Jett, who seemed to be more focussed on her guitar, but was evidencing some degree of amusement and-or approval, which was rivalled in perverse titillation only by the one filmed a month or two after Joan had had her hair shorn, and sweating quarters in the heat of the lights coming both from overhead and the floor, managed to smile through yet another version of "CaC." Isaac knew that he had missed something vital and concluded that more information was necessary, especially when he discovered that there were more bootleg versions of Joan Jett doing "CaC" available for sale on E-Bay, though the asking prices were prohibitive when considered in proportion to the incomes of two burghers, with two kids, supporting two residences, and paying two mortgage debts.

Indeed, Isaac discovered through a disreputable website which flooded his machine with ghastly, unfit-for-human-consumption cookies that Joan Jett was born Judith Levine, but by all accounts the family was not religious. That was unfortunate, as if they were, the whole thing was showing inclinations toward making some sense on an epistomological basis, which even Godel would be taxed to convincingly rebuke.

Isaac was at a practical dead end, despite having made use of the standard YouTube download app, bolstered by a bit of a splurge for the radical app which allowed the user to view the document in any degree of motion with attendant sound, including slo-backward. In frustration with the apparent replay of the Beatles, which only Charlie Manson adopted as a religion, if not an improvised insanity plea, which Bugliosi was deaf or indifferent to in the course of his career he turned to Michael Jackson after finding nothing but good music when playing the entire Beatles repertoire at the correct speed, when he recalled that it periodically sounded to him as if at-the-time-only-half-white-Michael was actually saying; "Ever wench the detox feed. Show ya the beboppin dada need. So just bead it." He also recalled briefly seeing the film of Michael's hair on fire, which always looked less a convincing hair fire than the ones he had seen in movies. Of interest in the possible appearance of the holy spirit, bolstered by financial necessity, Isaac re-directed his pilgrimage to the "King of Pop."

Michael Joseph Jackson, (August 29, 1958 – June 25, 2009) was an American singer, songwriter and dancer. Dubbed the "King of Pop", he is regarded as one of the most significant cultural icons of the 20th century and one of the greatest entertainers of all time, on par with Fred Astaire and for some, Gene Kelly. His entertainment acumen bolstered by substantive appearances and reports tending toward the highest level of weirdness, made Jackson a global figure in popular culture for over four decades.

The seventh son of a seventh son, Michael made his professional debut in 1964 at age five with his elder brothers Jackie, Tito, Jermaine, and Marlon as a member of the Jackson Five, and immediately became the focal point. He began his solo career in 1971 while at Motown Records. In the early 1980s, Jackson became the dominant figure in popular music. His music videos, including those for "Beat It", "Billie Jean", and "Thriller" from his 1982 album Thriller, are credited with breaking racial barriers and transforming the medium into an art form and promotional tool. Their popularity helped bring the television channel MTV to fame. "Bad" (1987) was the first album to produce five US Billboard Hot 100 number one singles, though the Beatles preceded him in a way, through having had two with ten. Through stage and video performances, Jackson popularized complicated dance techniques such as the robot and the moonwalk, the latter to which he gave the name.

Jackson is the third-best-selling music artist of all time, behind the Beatles and Elvis Presley, with estimated sales of over 350 million records worldwide. Jackson won hundreds of awards, scores admittedly chintzy, but when un-differentiated by quality and significance, more than any other artist in the history of popular music. Not to cast undue aspersions, were his awards limited to those available at the weighted average times of Elvis and the Beatles, he would be third on the all-time list. A Nabokovian-type puzzle is offered here regarding numeros uno y dos. Jackson is one of the few artists to have been inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame twice. There is speculation that was done to first accommodate his black side, and the second to accommodate his white. No matter how silly that may sound, it must be noted in perspective, that it has a higher probability than the conspiracy theory which states that Michael was replaced with an MK-Ultra double, in order to embarrass black people on a worldwide basis.

Weird Michael is the only dancer from pop and rock to have been inducted into the Songwriters Hall of Fame and the Dance Hall of Fame. His other achievements include Guinness world records, including the Most Successful Entertainer of All Time (MSEAL), the definition of which obviously inviting of MSEAL research this writer doesn't feel like doing, 13 Grammy Awards, the Grammy Legend Award, the Grammy Lifetime Achievement Award, 26 American Music Awards, more than any other artist, and 13 number one US singles, more than any other male artist in the Hot 100 era, which conveniently commenced after the Beatles had split and Presley was dead.

"Thriller" is the best-selling album of all time, with estimated sales of 66 million copies worldwide, without which, frankly, Michael wouldn't have been the mega sized s*** most bomb johnny with. Jackson's other albums, including "Off the Wall" (1979), "Bad" (1987), "Dangerous" (1991), and "HIStory" (1995), also rank among the world's best-selling albums. Jackson is also remembered for his philanthropy, charitable fundraising, and adulation of Elizabeth Taylor after his white strain began to surface. Those who replace the word adulation with emulation, are just jealous homophobic creeps.

Fearing that he would trigger a PCP chastisement and deletion from their important and desirable circles, Isaac classified his subsequent MJ findings "TOP SECURITY CLEARANCE REQUIRED," and encrypted them using Triple DES, thereby to some extent limiting the possibility of his next vacation being in sunny Abu Ghuraib.

Bored to tears and seeking brainless mirth, Chloe picked up a seemingly juvenile comic and was substantially correct in her choice.

Superman

He ran into the library to answer the blasting phone, and was immediately reminded of his long delayed desire to have it changed over to a system which plays some type of watered down musaak, complicit with something called Eno, presumably a techie term; a New-Agey, nothing-ness, subdued orchestration of Eminem's "Cold Wind Blows" came to mind. He was so excited at the prospect of work he tripped on an edge of the Persian rug, but picked up the receiver on the sixth ring. Afraid that he missed the call, he said; "Hello! HHHHHH- - ello!"

The male voice responded; "Is this Mr. Crap-ass?"

Peeved at hearing the incorrect pronunciation he had endured most of his life, he advertised his annoyance when he said; "That's Cra-pass. It's French continental."

"Whatever, you're a private eye, right?"

"That's private investigator. This isn't a 1940's film noir or a 1950's French New Wave adaptation."

"What?"

Remembering that he really wanted the work Crapass said; "Yes, I'm a private eye. What can I do for you?"

"Well, Mr. Crap-ass, one of my family members has disappeared."

"Again that's Cra-pass. Isn't the police missing persons unit working on it? What would you like me to do?"

"Of course the cops have been called, but they say he hasn't been missing long enough to warrant their involvement. Are you being purposely difficult? I want you to find him. What do you think?"

Reticent to explain the many possible custom services that could be provided, he was quiet two seconds, during which the caller had second thoughts and offered a clarification; "Actually, the bastard owes me money and finding it will suffice. It's probably a package deal though."

This was his first possible investigation and he had not yet established a routine and he was not prepared to ask any relevant questions, so not wanting to sound stupid, Crapass said; "I think we should make an appointment to meet in person. Bring anything relevant to the case with you and of course some money. Let me check my schedule." He paused and counted; one thousand and one, one thousand and two......one thousand and ten, in an attempt to advertise his high degree of activity. He then added; "I can fit you in at 2PM this afternoon. Is that good for you?"

"Yeah, that works for me. At your place, I guess?"

"Of course, unless you'd like to buy me lunch somewhere nice. Ha, ha."

"No, I'll be at your place at two." He hung up.

It was only 9:30 AM, so it gave Gunther T. Crapass time for last-minute preparation. He needed it, as this would be his first foray into the real world of crime in a sequestered 45 year life. He belatedly realized that to appear professional he would have to take care of little details; like getting the caller's name and phone number. Up until today Gunther had spent most of his time as a voracious reader of mysteries, and they never dealt with those kinds of boring details. They dealt with other kinds of boring details; like a wordy description of the sound of a waterfall, a precise description of the music wooden wheels make on a cobblestone street, cobble by cobble, or the perceived psychological effect all the "action" was having on a delicate relationship with some relative, remotely and tangentially connected to the "story" and it's super-insightful and super-intelligent sleuth/hero/heroine.

For the last ten years Gunther had created a data base, using his mystery books, containing information such as crime, motive, how caught, sleuth techniques, nutty relatives, informants who know whole "story" (in case writer runs dry), usual suspects, false leads, topography, dwellings, sex activity (infrequent, always tasteful) , etc., etc. Trying to refrain from spending exorbitant time with the last item, now, using this database, Gunther wanted to spend the remainder of his, to date, sheltered life seeing if the books contained any semblance of reality.

Gunther was short, prematurely balding and devoid of female companionship, and though people didn't tell him, they thought he resembled George Costanza However, he worked on affecting the look of Hercule Poirot, at least as he was portrayed on television. He thought that the quick, intelligent, sophisticated air of the little one with the upwardly curled mustache, living in the wild world of the 1920's would counter the truth that he was more than a little embarrassed about. He considered adopting an unusual accent, but correctly concluded that approach would be of better use in Europe than it would be in Plainsboro, New Jersey, where a simple down-homey, working hard, and "We all put on our pants the same way" approach seemed more apropos. At least that was the plan that would get its first trial today.

He sat on his ornate Chippendale chair and turned on his computer, which rested on the overworked Chippendale desk, the only furniture in the library, excepting the overflowing, highly decorative Chippendale bookcases, which lined the walls.

His ornate Chippendale ass wasn't rested for ten seconds when the phone rang again. Drawing on his previous experience this time he was prepared. He picked up the imitation French antique receiver and confidently said; "My secretary is indisposed, so you've got Cra-pass, himself."

The female voice was incredulous in tone, and said; "Gunther, what kind of nonsense are you up to?"

He dragged out the first word; "M-o-o-o-o-m. I'm kind of in the middle of something."

"What you should be in the middle of, is finding a nice girl. You know you're not getting any younger."

"Mom, I'm all right as is."

"Or even finding a nice boy. Times have changed and nobody cares about that sort of thing anymore. . . . ." Gunther was at a loss for words, as he was never interested in boys, men, or in-betweens, but knew that his single status and appearance would make people consider the possibility, and was occasionally very uncomfortable about it, like now. This wasn't the first time Mom broached the subject, but even if he were so disposed, he wouldn't be discussing it with her. He attempted a quick subject change and came up with; "I saw a really good movie the other day, "Marlowe."

"What was that about?"

"Oh, it's an old one. Elliot Gould playing a Raymond Chandler style detective."

"I don't know any of those names you're saying."

Gunther was at a loss for words, trying to decide whether to sound professorial, and explain more, think of a one-liner he didn't have, or risk getting back to his least favorite subject. The indecision cost him as, in the momentary lull, Mom went right back to her currently favorite subject, and said; "Do you remember Tommy Long, that tall boy who played a lot of basketball?"

"Yeah, we were in some of the same classes in high school."

'Well, he's one of them."

"Mom, I don't really care."

"Did you know him well?"

"No, and I really don't care."

"That's the point. That's what I'm trying to tell you. Nobody cares anymore. It's all right. Even the Catholic Church has gay parishes. That, frankly, doesn't make a whole lot of sense to me. They condone that, but only allow men and women to do things that make babies. Maybe after all that crap with the altar boys.............I don't know."

Gunther's mind was racing; perhaps it was more akin to spinning its wheels. He rubbed one hand over his forehead, of course not able to come up with anything that might derail his mother's one tracked mind. He considered lying and saying something really gross about "getting some pussy" recently, but decided against it.

With the lack of response Mom was compelled to elaborate; "Of course, if your father, God rest his soul, was still alive. . . . . Ah, but, he was always kind of traditional when it came to the sex stuff. Sometimes, even I could have kicked him right in his ass."

Gunther felt as if he were again 13 years old, trying to think of a response, that would at least temporarily divert the tide, so he desperately and abruptly changed the subject to something of interest to him, full well knowing that this topic could also become unpleasant and said; "Mom, I'm going to be handling my first investigation today."

Mom said; "Well, if you're really uncomfortable talking about it."

Gunther yelled; "Mom."

In a discouraged and weary tone, Mom said; "So what are you investigating?"

Just like the confident big boy he now was, Gunther casually responded; "Oh, the usual stuff, missing money, a missing person."

"That could be dangerous. Why don't you read a nice book instead?"

"I've read them all. It's high time I got some real world experience."

"I'll say. How about some real experience with a nice girl? . . . . . "Or boy?"

"Mom, for Christ's sake, cut it out. And what would I want with a NICE girl anyway? I like the other kind."

"Gunther, don't start talking blasphemy to your mother."

"I thought you started it with that boy stuff."

"That's not blasphemy. There's some other word for that. I can't remember it right now. You know the one."

"I can't think of it either."

"Oh, come on. You're better with words than I am. What is it?"

"I don't know. It's your thought. You tell me."

'I know you know that word."

Gunther was thoroughly annoyed with the entirety of this conversation, as he had endured a facsimile countless other times, but rather than saying something about not being a mind reader or that he didn't care anyway, and risk being accused of being surly, he chose to play it tritely and, again, changed the subject and said; "How's everything in Florida?"

"Hot."

"Hot? Is that all?"

"Yeah."

He hoped to get her talking about something other than him, and tried again with; "It's hot here, too." He tried his best to sound like a sarcastic Johnny Carson and added; "So, how hot is it?"

Mom took the cue and said; "It's so hot........ that the rubbers are emitting steam on the beach."

Though he didn't find that particularly funny, he considered it okay for an improvisation, and laughed outrageously, most significantly, in an attempt to end the conversation on a good note.

Encouraged, Mom continued with; "You should see the dogs doing their own form of investigation."

Gunther visualized that and found it amusing, laughed, and said; "That's a good one."

"I'm not kidding. That's what I see out my window."

"Wish I was there. Speaking of out the window, my client is coming down the driveway. Got to go."

"All right. So, everything's okay with you?"

"Fine. How about you?"

"Ah, we'll save that for another time. You be careful, all right?"

"Sure. You too. Gotta go. Bye."

"Bye."

There was no car in the driveway. That was just an efficient way to end the call. He wanted to do some last minute research before encountering his first real client. He also knew from previous experience that his mother's "Ah, we'll save that for another time" answer was nothing to worry about. Next call she would either not remember what she was referring to, or again, tell him about the guy living on the floor above her, and his abnormal desire to walk around loudly, always right over her head, listening to everything she said.

Back to the computer. Database program. Crime. Motive. How discovered. Unnecessary filler. Ironic conversations. Scenery and sound conditions. Weather. False leads. Man who knows all. Gunther forgot about lunch, attempting to tie the "facts" together. His mental indulgence ended when he heard the sound of a car truly coming down his gravel driveway. He looked up at the faux antique rococo wall clock, and saw that it was already 2PM. "Dammit," he thought as he dashed to don his best clean suit, a black pinstriped Mickey Spillane model. He made a quick bathroom stop, where he brushed back what remained of his black hair, and made it to the front door ahead of his guest/customer.

****************************************************

He peered through the transom, and saw a modestly well- dressed man of about 40, peering through the transom at him. He felt overdressed, as the other guy was obviously wearing attire that screamed; "Money," but whispered; "I'm not stooping to try and impress." More specifically he was wearing designer- just pressed- blue jeans and a mail order label red shirt, open to the third button.

Gunther opened the door, extended his right hand, and said; "Come right in Mr. . . . . ."

"Slattery, James." They shook, in Gunther's case all over, he hoped, undetected. The little one extended his left hand and said; "Right this way to the library." He hoped that the mere fact that he HAD a library would impress the client with his intelligence.

He offered Slattery a seat, simultaneously realizing that it was the only one in the room. He briefly considered standing, but thought better of it. He said; "Please excuse me. The last client moved things around a bit." He knew that didn't make much sense, but couldn't resist the opportunity to say that he had other business. He went into the adjoining bedroom and returned with an ornate Chippendale chair.

Slattery was fingering the computer, and Gunther quickly put his arm on his client's shoulder, and said; "If you don't mind," ushering him to the newly arrived chair. He sat in front of his computer, and after a few masterful strokes, was back at his preferred database program screen. He said; "Name?"

With a tone of slight annoyance the client again said; "Slattery, James."

"Is Slattery your first name?"

Slattery continued in the same tone responding; "Of course not."

"I expected that, but I had to ask because one cannot make any assumptions in this business. You'll come to appreciate that." He smiled at his imagined prey and added; "You know that if you break down the word 'assume', the result is that you make an 'ass' of 'u' and 'me.'"

Slattery didn't smile back and said; "Yeah, I may have heard that somewhere."

Gunther continued; "Do you always put your last name first?"

"I don't know. Sometimes. What difference does it make?"

"Nothing I can think of at the moment. But, who knows the future? Address?"

"500 Juniper Crescent."

"Plainsboro?"

"Apartment number 308. Missed that one, ace. And yes, Plainsboro."

Gunther was sure his face flushed. "Phone?"

"With or without area code?"

"As you wish. I'll make the appropriate adjustment here."

"Good man. 237-6567."

Gunther looked Slattery in the eye and said; "I believe you said something about missing money and a missing relative, the latter of subordinate interest. Would you please elaborate."

"Well, about a week ago I tried to contact my bum brother-in-law, Bernie. And I couldn't."

Gunther interrupted and said; "Think I got you this time, ace. Bernie's last name is not Slattery, correct?"

"Right, genius. It's Protokowitz. Anyway, I made the mistake of loaning him $300,000 a little over a year ago, haven't gotten a nickel back, and now he's nowhere to be found."

"What was the purpose of the loan?"

"I'm really not completely sure. I felt sorry for him at the time. I think it was used to do some drug deals."

"Did he have experience with that sort of thing?"

"Only as a user, I think."

"Very unwise."

"No shit, Sherlock. Let me just continue the story a bit."

"My sincere apologies for the interruption."

"The other disturbing thing is that Gladys, Bernie's wife, is also nowhere to be found."

"Your sister is probably with Bernie."

"I hope the hell not. They divorced a year ago. Gladys is his new wife and a drug fiend. Gotcha."

"Very amusing, my friend. I see we enjoy a similar brand of gamesmanship."

"Thought you'd appreciate that one." Slattery emptied a pocket and tossed some papers on the ornate Chippendale desk, and said; "Here is everyone's addresses, phone numbers, e-mail addresses, known hangouts and some miscellaneous crap. Most interesting to Gunther was a photo of Bernie and some woman, as Bernie looked like Gunther's double. The only significant difference was that Bernie's balding head was host to long black hair tied in a ponytail which reached the middle of his back.

Not to be fooled twice with the same thing Gunther was proud of his wiles, and asked; "Is this Gladys?"

Slattery laughed and said; "No. That's my sister Agnes."

Gunther looked at him questioningly and Slattery added; "Just kidding. Yes, that's Gladys. Some shit, huh?"

Not accustomed to this manner of speech, Gunther tried to sound the part, and replied; "Yes. Really some turd." Slattery looked at him strangely, which Gunther didn't notice as he was eyeballing the photo of the sexy middle-aged blond, with a crazy, large, psychedelic Star of David around her neck, bearing most of the colors of the rainbow. He asked; "Jewish?"

Slattery said; "Yeah, Protokowitz and Baumstein. She pronounces it Bowm-stine, and hates it when someone says Bomb-steen. You understand, I guess."

Gunther cleared his throat, and said; "Now, about my fee." Slattery wrote a check.

Slattery silently left. Gunther thought he did pretty well for a first effort. His self-evaluation was that after a weak start segueing into an okay middle, he had a strong ending, better than most of the mysteries he had read. He sat at his computer and searched.

Owes money. Drug involvement. Divorce. Client possibly lied. Family intruder ................

**********************************************

Gunther didn't find a clear course of action, so he decided to make a perilous journey into the real world, hoping that it would lead him in some direction, or at least narrow the possibilities suggested by his Apple Mackintosh Series 7560 Upright or his Upright 7560 Series Mackintosh Apple, depending on one's viewpoint. One of Bernie's listed hangouts was "Pete's Paraphernalia Pub" in downtown Plainsboro, which Gunther knew well, at least from the outside, as he had passed it many times on his way to the town superstore.

He went into his mother's former bedroom and found the black fall he remembered in one of the closets, used a rubber band to tie it into a ponytail, and attached it to the back of his head. As he looked at himself in the mirror, he thought; "Cool." His suit now appeared out of place, so he changed into a pair of blue jeans that he usually wore while gardening and a Kid Rock tee-shirt.

He jumped into his 2012, four door, almost silver, Honda Civic. After again admiring his new look in the rearview mirror, he felt good and confidently headed out into the sultry summer late afternoon, visualizing himself as Nicholas Cage playing Sailor in "Wild at Heart." He got into it, turned on the C/D player and blasted Eminem rapping "Lose Yourself," front windows wide open. Nearing his destination, he saw three pedestrian young women in tube tops, tight jeans, and high heels turn their heads in his direction. He slowed down, lowered the volume, waved and called out; "Later, girls. Got business." As he again picked up speed and volume, he looked in the rearview mirror and saw the three look at each other, then his car, then back at each other shaking their heads. Gunther didn't take it as any sort of rejection, and interpreted it as; "I don't know him. Do you?" He briefly considered driving around the block for a second viewing, but decided against it, suddenly remembering that he was Gunther Crapass, rather than Johnny Depp.

His mind raced as he turned the corner; "Bad mindset. Got to get rid of it quickly. I'm almost there. What went wrong? ................. Started to think of reality. Got to stay in fantasy. Don't know what I'm walking into. Could be dangerous. Think drugs. Think money. Think bluff. Think big-tit Gladys Baumstein. Think bad-ass Bernie.......Protocowitz? Stop thinking."

He parked in the side lot of "Pete's", as far away from the entrance as possible. It was still on the early side of nightlife, he surmised, as there were only six other cars, and no doubt a few belonged to employees, while the lot had an approximate capacity of fifty or sixty. Either it was early, or Bernie was one of the few to like the place.

He walked through the paved lot and saw no one hanging around. He then focused on the building itself; one story, brick, flat roof, few windows with shades drawn, and a plain black and white wooden painted sign which said; "Pete's Paraphernalia Pub" enclosed by a crude drawing of a twisted snake, with exaggerated fangs and tongue, eating its tail. He pushed one of the heavy, black double doors open and entered the darkness. The cooler air was his first observation, and the dim lighting suited him well. With only the slightest degree of trepidation, he would now execute his simple plan; to say little or nothing, and hope that someone would mistake him for Bernie Protokowitz, and tell him something interesting.

He only saw one man who wore a sporty, light green vest with black pinstripes, made of some shiny plastic composite, complete with a "Pete's" designation, in a red circle, on the rear, with his back to Gunther, squatting and meticulously putting away some glasses, behind the bar at the right of the room. Gunther slowly sauntered over, watching the barman watch him in the mirror that ran the length of it. He sat on one of the twenty high stools, picking one near the center and the squatting man, who now pretended not to notice him.

He spoke in a normal tone of voice, and said; "Hey. Service, man."

The squatting man slowly rose, with a threatening look on his stone face. As he walked over to Gunther he did a double take and his expression changed to a surprised smile, and the man whose nametag indicated "Tony," said; "Bernie?"

"Yeah, man. How 'ya been Tony?"

"All right. Where the fuck you been?"

"Here, there and everywhere. You know."

"Hey, man, I'm like fucking desperate. You holding?" Gunther confirmed what he already was told; Bernie was a dealer.

"No, man. That's why I'm back here. It's dry. Motherfuckers keep intercepting the boats. Somebody's got to be playing both ends."

"Ah, I hope they crucify the fuck. Well, what can I getcha?"

"The usual shit."

Tony mixed a double Dickel and soda, and placed it in front of Gunther/Bernie.

A door to the back and side of the bar opened, and a vision appeared. It was a fortyish blond woman wearing a pink tube top and a red mini-dress. Gunther knew it had to be Gladys Baumstein when he saw the psychedelic Star of David emerge from between her breasts, dangling like a heavy bondage chain. Bernie saw her eyes staring right at his pants, and that caused him to give her a better view. He waved off Tony, and turned to the hot chick, who slowly sauntered over with her head down, and took the seat next to him at the bar. She said; "You ain't Bernie. What game you playin'?"

Gunther got up the nerve to put his hand on her well-exposed left leg. When she made no objection he slowly slid it to the apex, and felt the humidity increase. He removed his hand, put it to his lips, and said; "Shh. It's complicated. I'll let you in on it little by little, Gladys."

She smiled, licked her lips, carefully circling the entirety of the red painted kisser and massaged his growing interest.

After meeting the standard-mystery-story-ominous-people, including a hermit, two hopeless drunks, a crooked cop on the drug take, several would be bad asses, a penny ante drug dealer, a blind paraplegic beggar who thinks she knows everything, one legitimate bad ass, a double dealing information peddler, a deranged addict, a rich freak who likes to see "real life," a snitch who doesn't know his ass from his elbow, a thieving lawyer, two lesbian teenage hookers, Slattery in drag, and one boring "normal person" Gunther-Bernie wound up with Gladys and all the money. They lived happily ever after; all thanks to his mother's fall.

Momentary End

Why?

'Cause I naively felt like it a long time ago.

The Final End

**15**

The Lehi Duplication of "Banned' Irgun

Beware – Toxic Fill Ahead; the kind courtesy of Pexels.com under their CC0 license; modified.

One Way; the kind courtesy of Pexels.com under their CC0 license; modified.

The following was a quiet day in Gig Harbor. There wasn't even a faint drizzle to pelt the closely congregated, evergreen, complacent Balsam firs to disturb the silence. Mark had used Dad's money to go to Florida and Abigail still had a few days of school remaining. Chloe warmed both her hands on her chipped pink "KIND PEOPLE ARE MY KINDA PEOPLE" coffee cup and carelessly looked out her thirty foot, living area windows.

Below her and at a vertigo inducing drop she saw the repugnant "For Sale" sign in front, and for a second considered knocking it down and removing it, just for the crime of being a corner smudge atrocity, in what it meant as well as poor aesthetics, on her otherwise appealing screen. She rapidly decided that it was much too much work, and being that she was on a dead ended street it would only be seen by three other families who already lived there and the garbage man. Chloe got distracted away from the ineffective, provisional interloper by the five randomly clustered gables of the similar Northwestern styled house across the street. Her steeply inclined upper slope location always provided a pleasant view while also always costing her a guilty five dollars extra for the wheezing lawn mower man.

She was glad that the builder didn't make the fifteen year old structure too much like that of her own. The Gluchan's, a male-female couple with a German Shepherd, had always preferred keeping to themselves and the dog sometimes barked his dissatisfaction when Chloe "invaded" his asphalt, liquefied tar patched territory which cars, vans, and trucks had imperiously and previously and unassailably rendered semi-communal, to retrieve the mail from the shared box five doors down. Her standard cooing of "Pretty pup, no one wants to hurt you" had yet to satisfy his need to register his opinion, which seemed a chastisement, rather than a threat; that possibly a conclusion drawn because of his penchant to stay on his own property, in fact remaining twenty feet back from the front edge.

It wasn't only their reclusiveness which made Chloe think the couple or trio an unusual one. It was also their ages, as best that can be seen from a distance of 200 feet. He seemed to be 30-45, as he had a full head of dark hair and looked as if he was reasonably active in his garage. He spryly carried tools in and out, turning the on-off keys to make the jolting bang of frequent misfires. For one who supposedly didn't want attention, he had a way of getting it. Her hair had already passed from the gray to the white of one of 60-70 years, and she walked slowly taking small steps. The German Shepherd looked all of three and acted it; like the age when human babies say "Mine" to most everything. The dog only left home when she took it somewhere in her car for a few hours.

The "odd" family made Chloe think of Isaac, away pursuing career and historical mystery in perilous New York. She missed him and sometimes worried that he'd get into some kind of trouble from which he'd never return; especially when she needed someone to change a burnt out bulb in the recessed lights way over her head. Chloe had never told Isaac that she had read his information sharing e-mails out of fear of prompting him to take that as a cue to commence a soliloquy on Jewish history. She had previously skimmed them; and decided to refresh her memory right now; that is after she re-read one of his more playful notes.

She booted up, and soon arrived at:

To: Miriam Meltzer

From: Isaac Leibowitz

Subject: The Lehi Group

Lehi‎ Lohamei Herut Israel – Lehi, "Fighters for the Freedom of Israel – Lehi"), often known pejoratively as the Stern Gang, was a Zionist paramilitary organization founded by Avraham ("Yair") Stern in Mandatory Palestine. Its avowed aim was to evict the British authorities from Palestine by resort to force, allowing unrestricted immigration of Jews and the formation of a Jewish state, a "new totalitarian Hebrew republic."

It was initially called the National Military Organization in Israel, upon being founded in August 1940, but was renamed Lehi one month later. According to Jean E. Rosenfeld, the group admitted to having used terrorist attacks, in an attempt to scare the Palestinians out of "their" land. Lehi split from the Irgun militant group in 1940 in order to continue fighting against the British during World War II. Lehi sought an alliance with Fascist Italy and Nazi Germany, offering to fight alongside them against the British in return for the transfer of all Jews from Nazi-occupied Europe to Palestine after the war.

Ostensibly believing that Nazi Germany was a lesser enemy of the Jews than Britain, Lehi twice more attempted to form an alliance with the Nazis, by this time if not the first, undoubtedly aware of what the Nazis were doing to the European Jews. During World War II, it declared that it would establish a Jewish state based upon "nationalist and totalitarian principles."

After Stern's death in 1944, the new leadership of Lehi began to move it towards support for Joseph Stalin's Soviet Union. In that same year Lehi officially declared its support for National Bolshevism, despite Russian ill-treatment of Jews in the Ukraine. It said that its National Bolshevism involved an amalgamation of left wing and right wing political elements. Stern had said that Lehi incorporated elements of both the left and the right; however this change was unpopular and Lehi began to lose popular support as a result.

Lehi and the Irgun were jointly responsible for the massacre in previously mentioned Deir Yassin.

1965 Egyptian (UAR) stamp commemorating the Deir Yassin massacre; modified public domain.

Lehi assassinated Lord Moyne, British Minister Resident in the Middle East, and made many other attacks on the British and Palestinians in Palestine. On May 29, 1948, the government of Israel, having inducted its activist members into the Israel Defense Forces, formally disbanded Lehi, though some of its members carried out more terrorist acts, including the assassination of Folke Bernadotte some months later, an act condemned by Bernadotte's replacement as mediator, Ralph Bunche.

After the assassination, the new Israeli government declared Lehi a terrorist organization, arresting some 200 members and convicting some of the leaders. However, just before the first Israeli elections in January 1949, a general amnesty to Lehi members was granted by the government. In 1980, Israel instituted a military decoration, an "award for activity in the struggle for the establishment of Israel," and named it the Lehi Ribbon. Former Lehi leader Yitzhak Shamir became Prime Minister of Israel in 1983.

Founding of Lehi

Lehi was created in August 1940 by Avraham Stern. Stern had been a member of the Irgun high command. Ze'ev Jabotinsky, then the Irgun's supreme commander, had decided that diplomacy and working with Britain would best serve the Zionist cause. World War II was in progress, and Britain was fighting Nazi Germany. The Irgun suspended its underground military activities against the British for the duration of the war.

Stern argued that the time for Zionist diplomacy was over and that it was time for armed struggle against the British. Like other Zionists, he objected to the White Paper of 1939, which restricted both Jewish immigration and Jewish land purchases in Palestine. For Stern, "no difference exists between Hitler and Chamberlain, between Dachau or Buchenwald and sealing the g ates of Eretz (Many possible interpretations; one 'Greater' and suggestive of expansion.) Israel." Stern wanted to open

Palestine to all Jewish refugees from Europe, and considered this as by far the most important issue of the day. Britain would not allow this. Therefore, he concluded that he and Lehi would do whatever they had to do.

Lehi had three main goals:

1) To bring together all those interested in liberation; that is, those willing to join in active fighting against the British.

2) To appear before the world as the only active Jewish military organization.

3) To take over Eretz Yisrael (the Land of Israel) by armed force.

Lehi also openly and proudly referred to themselves as 'terrorists' and may have been one of the last organizations to do so.

An article titled "Terror" in the Lehi underground newspaper "He Khazit" ("The Front") argued as follows; "Neither Jewish ethics nor Jewish tradition can disqualify terrorism as a means of combat. We are very far from having any moral qualms as far as our national war goes. We have before us the command of the Torah, whose morality surpasses that of any other body of laws in the world; 'Ye shall blot them out to the last man.'

But first and foremost, terrorism is for us a part of the political battle being conducted under the present circumstances, and it has a great part to play; speaking in a clear voice to the whole world, as well as to our wretched brethren outside this land, it proclaims our war against the occupier. We are particularly far from this sort of hesitation in regard to an enemy whose moral perversion is admitted by all."

The article described the goals of terror;

1) It demonstrates courage against the true terrorist who hides behind his piles of papers and the laws he has legislated.

2) It is not directed against people, it is directed against representatives. Therefore it is effective.

3) If it also shakes the Yishuv (the Jewish community or settlement in Palestine during the 19th century and until the formation of the state of Israel in 1948) from their complacency, good and well.

Yitzhak Shamir, one of the three leaders of Lehi after Avraham Stern's assassination, argued for the legitimacy of Lehi's actions; "There are those who say that to kill T.G. Martin (a CID (Christians in Defense of Israel) sergeant who had recognized Shamir in a lineup) is terrorism, but to attack an army camp is guerrilla warfare and to bomb civilians is professional warfare. But I think it is the same from the moral point of view. Is it better to drop an atomic bomb on a city than to kill a handful of persons? I don't think so. But nobody says that President Truman was a terrorist. All the men we went for individually; Wilkin, Martin, MacMichael and others were personally interested in succeeding in the fight against us.

So it was more efficient and more moral to go for selected targets. In any case, it was the only way we could operate, because we were so small. For us it was not a question of the professional honor of a soldier, it was the question of an idea, an aim that had to be achieved. We were aiming at a political goal. There are many examples of what we did to be found in the Bible; Gideon and Samson, for instance. This had an influence on our thinking. And we also learned from the history of other peoples who fought for their freedom; the Russian and Irish revolutionaries, Giuseppe Garibaldi and Josip Broz Tito."

Relationship with fascism and socialism

Unlike the left wing Haganah and right wing Irgun, Lehi members were not a homogeneous collective with a single political, religious, or economic ideology. They were a combination of militants united by the goal of liberating the land of Israel from British rule, and British and Palestinian occupation. Most Lehi leaders defined their organization as an anti-imperialism movement and stated that their opposition to British colonial rule in Palestine was not based on a particular policy but rather on the presence of a foreign power over the homeland of the Jewish people. Avraham Stern defined the British Mandate as "foreign rule" regardless of British policies and took a radical position against such imperialism even if it were to be benevolent.

Some writers have stated that Lehi's true goals were a land steal and the creation of a totalitarian state. Perlinger and Weinberg write that the organization's ideology placed "its world view in the quasi-fascist radical right, which is characterized by xenophobia, a national egotism that completely subordinates the individual to the needs of the nation, anti-liberalism, total denial of democracy and a highly centralized government." Perliger and Weinberg state that most Lehi members were admirers of the Italian Fascist movement.

Others counter these claims. They note that when Lehi founder Avraham Stern went to study in fascist Italy, he refused to join the Gruppo Universitario Fascista for foreign students, even though members got large reductions in tuition, which is unsubstantiated.

Evolution and tactics of the organization

Many Lehi combatants received professional training. They were taught how to use explosives. One of them reported later; "We have mastered mathematical principles of demolishing constructions made of concrete, iron, wood, bricks and dirt."

The group was initially unsuccessful. Early attempts to raise funds through criminal activities, including a bank robbery in Tel Aviv in 1940 and another robbery on January 9, 1942 in which Jewish passers-by were killed, brought about the temporary public collapse of the group.

Wanted Poster of the Palestine Police Force offering rewards for the capture of Stern Gang members: Jaacov Levstein (Eliav), Yitzhak Yezernitzky (Shamir), and Natan Fr iedman; public domain.

Stern's group was seen as a terrorist organization by the British authorities, who instructed the Defense Security Office, the colonial branch of MI5, the United Kingdom's domestic counter-intelligence and security agency, to track down its leaders. In 1942, Stern, after he was arrested, was shot dead in disputed circumstances by Inspector Geoffrey J. Morton of the CID. The arrest of several other members led momentarily to the group's eclipse, until it was revived after the September 1942 escape of two of its leaders, Yitzhak Shamir and Eliyahu Giladi. Giladi was later killed by Lehi under circumstances that remain mysterious.

Lehi was responsible for 42 assassinations, more than twice as many as the Irgun and Haganah combined during the same period. Of those Lehi assassinations, more than half the victims were Jews. Lehi also rejected the authority of the Jewish Agency for Israel, best known as the primary organization fostering the immigration and absorption of Jews and their families from the Jewish diaspora into Israel, and related organizations, operating entirely on its own throughout nearly all of its existence.

Wartime contacts with Italy and Germany

Stern became convinced that the Italians were interested in the establishment of a fascist Jewish state in Palestine. What prompted this seemingly irrational thought remains a mystery. He conducted negotiations via an intermediary, and drew up a document that became known as the "Jerusalem Agreement." In exchange for Italy's recognition of, and aid in obtaining, Jewish sovereignty over Palestine, Stern promised that Zionism would come under the aegis of Italian fascism, with Haifa as its base, and the Old City of Jerusalem was to be under Vatican control, except for the Jewish quarter. Critics said that Stern's proposal would "turn the 'Kingdom of Israel' into a satellite of the Axis powers."

However, the "intermediary," was in fact an agent of the Irgun, conducting a sting operation under the direction of the Irgun intelligence leader in Haifa in cooperation with the British. One thing obvious here is that alliances are not as they would seem. Secret British documents about the affair were uncovered and confirmed by a former Irgun intelligence officer. Lehi's intention to assassinate the "intermediary" proved unsuccessful, but they did liquidate the Irgun intelligence leader.

Lehi, presumably having identified a common interest between the intentions of the new German order and Jewish national aspirations, proposed forming an alliance in World War II with Nazi Germany. It offered assistance in transferring the Jews of Europe to Palestine, in return for Germany's help in expelling Britain from Mandatory Palestine. Lehi said that it had not yet revealed its full power and that they were capable of organizing a whole range of anti-British operations.

The organization offered cooperation on the following terms. Lehi would support sabotage and espionage operations in the Middle East and in Eastern Europe; anywhere where they had cells. Germany would recognize an independent Jewish state in Palestine/Eretz Israel, and all Jews leaving their homes in Europe, by their own will or because of government injunctions, could enter Palestine with no restriction of numbers.

Stern also proposed recruiting some 40,000 Jews from occupied Europe to invade Palestine and with German support to oust the British and Palestinians. The secret offer was delivered to the German Ambassador in Turkey and on January 21, 1941 it was sent to Berlin. There was never any known official response. A second attempt to contact the Nazis was made at the end of 1941, but it was thwarted when the emissary was arrested in Syria before he could carry out his mission.

This proposed alliance with Nazi Germany cost Lehi and Stern some support. The Stern Gang also had links with, and support from, the Vichy France Sûreté's, the French police department of criminal investigation, Lebanese offices.

Later history

Lehi relied on audacious but small scale operations to bring their message home. They adopted the tactics of groups such as the Socialist Revolutionaries and the Combat Organization of the Polish Socialist Party in Czarist Russia, and the Irish Republican Army. Actions such as individual assassinations of British officials; notable targets included Lord Moyne, CID detectives, and Jewish "collaborators"; and random shootings against soldiers, Palestinians, and police officers. Another strategy, adopted in 1946, was to send bombs in the mail to British politicians. Other actions included sabotaging infrastructure targets; bridges, railroads, telephone and telegraph lines, and oil refineries, as well as the use of vehicle bombs against British and Palestinian military, police, and administrative targets. Lehi financed its operations from private donations, extortion, and bank robbery. Its campaign of violence lasted from 1944 to 1948. Initially conducted together with the Irgun, (Please note this was after their Irgun conflict.) it included a six month suspension to avoid being targeted by the Haganah ("The Defense" is or was a Jewish paramilitary organization in the British Mandate of Palestine, which became the core of the Israel Defense Forces (IDF).) during the Hunting Season, (the name given to the Haganah's suppression of the Irgun's insurgency against the government of the British Mandate in Palestine, from November 1944 to February 1945) and later operated jointly with the Haganah and Irgun under the Jewish Resistance Movement (Literally Hebrew Rebellion Movement), also called United Resistance Movement (URM), was an alliance of the Zionist paramilitary organizations Haganah, Irgun and Lehi in the British Mandate of Palestine). After the Jewish Resistance Movement was dissolved, it operated independently as part of the general Jewish insurgency in Palestine. Not all Lehi alumni gave up political violence after Israeli independence. Former members were involved in the activities of the Kingdom of Israel militant group, the 1957 assassination of Rudolf Kastner, and likely the 1952 attempted assassination of David-Zvi Pinkas.

The Lehi ribbon

In 1980, Israel instituted the Lehi ribbon; red, black, grey, pale blue and white, which is awarded to former members of the Lehi underground who wished to carry it, "for military service towards the establishment of the State of Israel."

A number of Lehi's members went on to play important roles in Israel's public life.

1) Shaltiel Ben-Yair – Bomber.

2) Eliyahu Bet-Zuri – Haganah, Irgun, Lehi. Part of the Lord Moyne killing.

3) Geula Cohen - announcer of the Lehi underground radio station and member of the Knesset.

4) Israel Eldad - leader in the Israeli national camp.

5) Boaz Evron - left-wing journalist.

6) Maxim Ghilan - Israeli journalist, author and peace activist.

7) Eliyahu Giladi - executed in 1943 by his Lehi comrades after he entered into strong disagreements with Yitzhak Shamir and other members of the Lehi movement about how Lehi should act; was considered too extremist, because he called for the killing of innocent Jewish civilians and selected Zionist leaders.

8) Uri Zvi Greenberg - Israeli poet and journalist.

9) Eliyahu Hakim – trigger-man in the assassination of Lord Moyne.

10) Amos Kenan – Bomber and writer.

11) Baruch Korff - Orthodox rabbi.

12) Yitzhak Shamir - Israeli prime minister 1983–1984 and 1986–1992.

13) Avraham Stern – founder. Also part of Irgun and the Stern Gang.

14) Shimon Tzabar - Yiddish-language playwright.

15) Natan Yellin-Mor - member of the Knes set 1949–1951, leftist advocate of peace with Arabs.

Exit; the kind courtesy of Pexels.com under their CC0 license; modified.

Like most, Chloe was disgusted by the tactics employed, but also wondered how these activities might have led to those of recent times; the Arabs now popularly considered the crazed terrorists. Still, to make more of this than is there seemed the stuff of a fictitious alternative history book. Intrigued by what was more interesting to her than what was available from TV, the net, and Murakami, she read on.

Herut- Begin and Shamir Again

Herut leaders Greenberg, Naor, and Begin at the first Knesset meeting in Jerusalem; public domain.

Herut (Freedom) was the major right wing nationalist political party in Israel from 1948 until its formal merger into Likud in 1988. It was an adherent of Revisionist Zionism and was initially known in part for its militia actions.

Herut was founded by Menachem Begin on June 15, 1948

as a successor to the Revisionist Irgun, a militant paramilitary group in Mandate Palestine. The new party was a challenge to the Hatzohar party established by Ze'ev Jabotinsky. It took credit for driving the British government out and as a young movement, reflected the spirit of the nation's well-placed minority. It perceived its image as being more attractive than the old establishment. They hoped to win 25 seats, which would place them second and make them leader of the opposition, with potential for future gain of government power.

Objection to withdrawal of the Israel Defense Forces and negotiations with Arab states was the party's main platform in the first election. The party vigorously opposed the ceasefire agreements with the Arab states until the annexation of Gaza Strip and the West Bank, both before and after the election. Herut differentiated itself by refusing to recognize the legitimacy of the Kingdom of Jordan after the armistice, and frequently used the slogan "To the banks of the Jordan River" in claiming Israel's right to the whole of Eretz Israel/Palestine. According to Joseph Heller, Herut was a one-issue party intent on expanding Israel's borders.

Herut's socio-economic platform represented a clear shift to the private right, but also demanded worker rights and that "all public utility works and basic industries must be nationalized." The lack of consistency on these issues were suggestive of a position designed not to offend either side in order to be allowed to pursue their main objective; expansion of the State of Israel. Herut was from the outset inclined to sympathize with the radical right and to their chagrin, according to Hannah Torok Yablonka, "tended to serve as a lodestone for society's misfits." Herut won 14 seats with 11.5 per cent of the votes, making it the fourth-largest party in the Knesset. Hatzohar, on the other hand, failed to cross the electoral threshold of 1 per cent and disbanded shortly thereafter. Herut was renowned for its right wing views and militia actions, and considered to be outside the mainstream.

The party and its leader, Begin, had met fierce resistance from the Labor Zionist establishment in Israel and abroad for many years. They were criticized by Jewish intellectuals on the occasion of Begin's visit to New York City in an open letter to The New York Times on December 4, 1948. The letter condemned Herut as "akin to Nazi and Fascist parties" and as a "terrorist party." It was signed by over twenty prominent Jewish intellectuals, including Albert Einstein, Hannah Arendt, Zellig Harris and Sidney Hook.

"Among the most disturbing political phenomena of our times is the emergence in the newly created state of Israel is that of the 'Freedom Party' (Herut), a political party closely akin in its organization, methods, political philosophy and social appeal to the Nazi and Fascist parties. It was formed out of the membership and following of the former Irgun Zvai Leumi, a terrorist, right-wing, chauvinist organization in Palestine. It is inconceivable that those who oppose fascism throughout the world, if correctly informed as to Mr. Begin's political record and perspectives, could add their names and support to the movement he represents. Today they speak of freedom, democracy and anti-imperialism, whereas until recently they openly preached the doctrine of the Fascist state. It is in its actions that the terrorist party betrays its real character; from its past actions we can judge what it may be expected to do in the future."

The hostility between Begin and Israel's first Prime Minister, the Mapai ("Workers' Party of the Land of Israel" was a center-left political party, and the dominant force in Israeli politics until its merger into the modern day Israeli Labor Party in 1968.) leader, David Ben-Gurion, which had begun over the Altalena Affair was evident in the Knesset. Ben-Gurion coined the phrase "without Herut and Maki" (Maki was the Communist Party of Israel), a reference to his position that he would include any party in his coalition, except those two. Herut was approached at least three times (1952, 1955 and 1961) by Mapai for government negotiations but Begin turned down the offers each time. The ostracism was not only self-imposed, but also expressed itself in the Prime Minister's refusal to refer to Begin by name from the Knesset podium, using instead the phrase "the person who sits next to MK Badar," and boycotting his Knesset speeches when pre-announced.

Ben-Gurion's policy of ostracizing Revisionism was performed systematically, as seen in the legal exclusion of fallen Irgun and Lehi fighters from public commemoration and from benefits to their families. Herut members were excluded from the highest bureaucratic and military positions.

In the municipal elections of 1950 Herut lost voters to the centrist General Zionists, who also attracted disillusioned voters from Mapai and established themselves as a tough opposition rival. At the second national convention, Begin was challenged by more radical elements of his party. In March 1951 Herut lost two of its Knesset seats. Referring to previous written commitments, the party sought to revoke their Knesset membership but the issue was still not settled by the next election three months later.

Mapai had taken some Herut members, a possible reaction to advancing irrelevance, and not least by declaring Jerusalem as Israel's capital. In the 1951 elections Herut won eight seats, six less than previously. Begin resigned as leader.

As a young party without institutions paralleling those of Mapai, who were predominant in most areas of social life, Herut was at a serious disadvantage. Its leaders were politically inexperienced and clung to the principle of not being representatives of the entire nation and accepting financial support from any interest groups.

The Reparations Agreement between Israel and West Germany of 1952 brought Begin back into politics. The exceptionally contentious issues centered on whether the acceptance of payment was considered forgiveness, the amount, and it's necessity to sustain a faltering Israeli economy. It gave Herut new momentum and it proved an effective weapon against the popular stance that it should be decided at the ballot box. The convention gave Begin important legitimacy by sending a message to the public that the party was law abiding and democratic. At the same time, it secured the support of the hardliners who would not compromise on its principles.

Economic and fiscal policies were given greater emphasis, and the party attacked the Histadrut for its dual role as employer and trade union. The Histadrut, which Ben-Gurion was integral in founding in 1920, became one of the most powerful institutions in the state of Israel, a mainstay of the Labour Zionist movement and, aside from being a trade union, its state building role made it the owner of a number of businesses and factories and, for a time, the largest employer in the country. Herut proposed to outlaw such concentration of power and also abolish party control of agricultural settlements. In the 1955 election the party nearly doubled its seats to 15 and became the second largest party in the Knesset behind Mapai; among other reasons, attributed to disillusionment with the economic situation.

The Kastner trial essentially was a hotly disputed charge of collaborating with the Nazis in Hungary during the Holocaust, against a current Israel resident, who had been instrumental in founding an organization which helped some Hungarian Jews escape. An attorney and former Irgun member turned the case into one that examined the actions of the governing Zionist Mapai party during the Holocaust, and what had been done to help Europe's Jews. This also played into Herut's hands, when, together with Maki, they helped bring down Moshe Sharett's government in 1954 through a motion of no confidence over the government's position in the trial. Herut added another Knesset seat in the 1959 elections.

Though it wasn't a straight downhill trajectory, that was Herut's peak; some attributing that to the public not feeling the same degree of dread, lessening the impact of Herut's activist message, and Ben-Gurion's favorable handling of a few difficult situations. However, there was no decline in Knesset representation, helped by affiliations and changing events. One might call it stagnation for the party, while Menachem Begin personally kept increasing his popularity.

Under Ben-Gurion, public commemoration of fallen Irgun and Lehi militants was strictly refused. Under Levi Eskhol, however, they began to be rehabilitated, indicating a more equal status for Revisionism, Herut, and Begin. Over time the public perception of both Herut and its leader had changed. Despite the ostracism imposed by Prime Minister Ben–Gurion, Begin had remained the main opposition figure, against the dominant politicians of the left, particularly in debates. Ben–Gurion's hostility became ever more savage. He eventually started to liken Begin to Hitler; an attitude that backfired, making Begin stand out as a victim.

In the 1977 elections, Herut, now as a part of the Likud, finally reached power and Menachem Begin rose to Prime Minister.

In September 1973 Gahal merged with the Free Centre, the National List and the non-parliamentary Movement for Greater Israel to create Likud, with all parties retaining their independence within the union. Within Likud, Herut was the dominant party. In the 1973 elections, Likud capitalized on the government's neglect in the Yom Kippur War and gained seven seats, totaling 39 of the 120.

In the following years, Likud sharply criticized the Government's accords with Egypt and Syria. Stormy demonstrations were organized. In the 1977 elections, Likud emerged victorious with 43 mandates, the first time the right had won an election. Begin became Prime Minister, retaining his post in the 1981 elections. In 1983 he stood down, and former Lehi leader, Yitzhak Shamir took over as Herut (and therefore Likud) party leader and Prime Minister. The party was finally disbanded in 1988 when Likud dissolved its internal factions to become a unitary party.

You can easily see how the same names keep popping up in prominent places. When one organization is discredited, before being later extolled, they simply move to a new one, bringing their philosophies of terrorism, violence, and their "right" to land belonging to others with them. Each time they reach a larger audience. It's predictable that they would, as every time they spin an action into being the product of the "evil" other side, the people are less interested in hearing theories, and lend increasing support to those who claim to want to protect them and use the people to take action on "their" behalf; "their" actually a perverse joke, in its alternate and true interpretation of the few who rule. False flag operations are never considered as such until decades pass, and even then are a matter of unprovable speculation.

In the realpolitik of today's State of Israel, the Likud party, which essentially absorbed the Irgun, Lehi, and Herut "principles" of a religiously promised homeland, and then performed a "successful" one-eighty through the conversion of that principle into a secularly based rationalism ratified by the UN, thereby correctly yet a-tad-too-boisterously saying; "We are here by UN mandate and we are not leaving. Deal only with that." Likud took full state control in 1977 and have kept it since.

Now, they are playing a similar game in the Ukraine, while world class super-powers are also involved, most of the world rightly or wrongly seeing Israel as an extension of the US, primarily because they have acquired the best of US military equipment, and that anyone seeking national election must do without the Jewish vote if appearing anti-Israel. The outcome of this can be disastrous, much like an untreated infection can spread and become gangrenous, leaving no option but amputation. And if this radical procedure becomes a fact, it will be the innocent, peaceful Jews of the Bible who will be amputated, for the benefit of the Khazarian, dare I say false-Jew rulers, who will again use the sheep to become a world sympathetic presence, this time in the Ukraine, the result of the horrible sacrifice, which they coldly and calculatingly perpetrate upon others, who the world mistakenly sees as the same, in order to reap the rewards for themselves.

While many "experts" have studied individual aspects of this situation, increasing the confusion and the number of words devoted to the subject, there are those who agree, or substantially agree with this view. It is far from the ramblings of one deranged person. There are 5,000 Jerusalem based Jews who call themselves the Neturei Karta, and an uncounted number in Williamsburg, Brooklyn on precisely the same page. Frankly, when this was started, it was expected to break new ground; but now, after more research has been done, if it is seen that way, it will only be because Neturei Karta has effectively been marginalized by the false Jews. Further, since this arises as an avocation, outside of loved family and a few close friends, any other negative opinion matters as much as the opinion of a former employer, who no longer pays me.

Original Sabras, those in control of Israel and more, possibly direct Khazar descendents, don't even look or act like the pale skinned people of the Old Testament. However, here is further confusion, as over time the Khazarian Jews have inter-married with the True Jews, resulting in "Sabras" increasingly representative of Israel's population. The definition and history of the word "sabra" follows. Please note the lack of consistency provided by another changing definition.

A Sabra is still defined as a Jew born on Israeli territory, whether or not that territory was recognized as part of Israel at their time of poorly documented birth. The term first appeared in the 1930s to refer to a Jew who had been born in the land of Israel, inclusive of the British Mandate of Palestine and Ottoman Palestine. Since the establishment of the State of Israel in 1948, Israelis have used the word to refer to a Jewish person born anywhere in Israel. The term also alludes to a tenacious, thorny desert plant, known in English as prickly pear, with a thick skin that conceals a sweet, softer interior. The cactus is compared to Israeli Jews, who are supposedly tough on the outside, but delicate and sweet on the inside. In 2010, over 4,000,000 Israeli Jews were sabras, with an ever increasing percentage of Israeli Jewish youths falling into this category. In 2015, about 75% of Israel's Jewish population was native-born.

Prickly pear cactus in bloom; the kind courtesy of Pexels.com under their CC0 license.

You see, Rachel, my love, no matter how you slice it; one way being that I have jumped to conclusions not warranted by the paltry state of available information, the actions of the Khazar-Irgun-Lehi-Herut-Likud continuation consistently points in one direction. The odds against that happening are 32 to 1. So, at what point does a child learn not to put its hand in the fire? Overwhelmingly, after the first painful experience. But, here the actions and affiliations are decided by adults, who apparently put weight in the possibility that in their next hand-fire experience, they might be in the other part of the multiverse where the fire doesn't hurt or blacken and kill flesh.

So, what is there to understand one deftly asks? At its essence, it's just another short story, made overly long by managed changes in word meanings. Well, that's an easy one to answer. The relevance of this short story is beholden to its 1938 screwball comedy, co-predecessor and simultaneously released; "Bringing Up Baby." Hepburn and Grant starred while Hawks directed the story centered on the domestication of a gentle, sweet tiger who managed to scare everyone except Katharine, Cary, and Howard. For the DFW 1996 counterpoint, one might make note of the sabre (Change one letter. Ease are equal to a's, and in the Palestinian pronunciation is the equivalent of a US haze.) toothed tiger. He knows that the best way to win is to get your enemies to fight each other. He also knows that a competent investigator will pursue an avenue which starts and often ends with; "Who received the most benefit from the conflict?" All fingers will lead to him, so he has a diversionary plan. This is the weakest part of his chain, but it's not too easily detected. He knows that people think of "tigers" without making the differentiation between types of tigers. He facilitates a situation in which tigers are slaughtered, thereby eliminating the possibility that people will think in terms of 100% "tiger benefit," as they simultaneously ignore the 100% benefit for the sabres' sub-section. Because of the slaughter, it has become socially unacceptable, and in more significance, criminally punishable "hate speech" to try to address this possibility and most people feel sorry for the sacrificed tigers anyway. In addition the sabres have been scientifically deemed as long ago extinct; though there have been reported sightings ............ Some of the non-sabre tigers have an idea of what's going on, but are reticent to say it as to do so invokes the strong possibility that even if they are believed, the response will be against all tigers. ................ Pretty good game. No? And even the scientists say that the sabre toothed tiger is genetically not a true tiger. He's a cat with some similarities to a dog; but he definitely ain't no tiger. Nowhumsayin? All right. The utilization of false identities was not simultaneous with web based sock puppets. The primary and inherent sabre problem is that they always have been and continue to be something other than the sharpest pencil in the box. They are good IT specialists; but they're primarily warriors, and very good ones; both males and females; most adept at following orders. For a business plan, they have employed other types of tigers, the best talent purchasable, to further their cause. But one named Grateful Jack Straw has been operating under the name Beckett. He was the despondent advisor who was once the closest to the King Sabre. The King thought him a buddy and liked hanging out with Jack-Beckett. But, Jack Beckett got some kind of bug up his ass and split. So now the Sabres are using every methodology known to Sabres, including IT, in an attempt to find reclusive Jack-Beckett before he can spill the beans; while the King reverts to his expanded heritage and cries crocodile tears, seeking the popularity of a revealed sad-ass story, which is actually founded through a well-deserved defection. The further fact is that Jack-Beckett has already spilled the said beans, though it is not yet common knowledge. The King's new advisor has suggested that this is the likely case. So, Mr. Sabre needs to create another horrendous physical event to take minds off a theory which is merely suggestive. Nuclear facilities distanced from Sabre territory seem a good option.

Why get serious. All it produces is a whopping headache. Let the music play. Here's Dylan at his chirpiest singing "Highway 61 Revisited." ......................... S***. Does anybody here know how these MP3 monstrosities work? It keeps repeating the first seven lines over and over. All right already. The kid is soon dead. Who cares? I trust you have ten nimble fingers.

End of Book 3 of 13

