Master Fool

If I don’t play the idiot, who will? Sure there are others but they are incompetent. This world needs fools of the highest caliber. My foolaucity will leave you astonished. You will ask yourself, “Is he being serious? How could one man be such a fool?”

It’s a fair question. Let me tell you, being a first-class fool is no walk in the park. Or maybe it is similar to a walk in the park. A park with no trees, no grass and no benches. A park with shops, escalators and a food court which is no park at all. It’s a mall. Any fool knows that.

But only a 10th degree black belt in foolery knows how many house cats fit in a bathtub. Just try to count them. They’re moving about every which way, hissing and squirming. Cats don’t get along in a bathtub. And don’t think by turning on the shower that your helping the matter at all. It will only make your cat counting job harder. That’s no way to fooldom.

And don’t just be asking me for the answers either. Your puny little non-fool brain couldn’t handle the information overload. If you stuck my foolish knowledge into your untrained brain, your head would explode.

You think any fool can be a fool? Only the elite, the pure of heart with virtues that taste like honey can dare be a master chef in the kitchen of fool like me.

Don’t even try to out fool me. You will be left in the mud like the rest. Mud is a combination of dirt and water. I bet you didn’t know that. You did know that? Well what in the hell are you doing with fool knowledge like that? Put it down. It’s dangerous. You can get hurt. You are an amateur. You are playing with fire. Only a bottom of the barrel fool plays with fire that looks, feels and tastes like mud.

Oh, I see, you think you can handle it. You think you’ve got what it takes to be an ace of fools? OK, well, let’s see if you can handle this: Did you know that wifi means nothing? Wifi is not an acronym. Hifi is an acronym. Hifi is short for ‘high fidelity’. Oh you say wifi is an acronym for wireless fidelity? Well what does wireless fidelity mean? It means nothing, fool! Someone just made up the word wifi because it sounded cool.

All that wifi means is that someone made a technology that is never going to work properly. Don’t blame the concrete walls. Don’t blame the technician that comes to your house and scratches his head and gives you no solution to your wifi woes.

You beg your technician, “Why doesn’t my wifi work?” You technician answers, “Why? Why? Fuck if I know.”

That’s what wifi really stands for: ‘Why? Fuck If I know.’ They were going name it: Why FIIK but wifi just rolled off the tongue better.

Now you know. And now you are sorry you know, aren’t you? You are now burdened with the isolation of knowing too much. Your sensitivities have deepened to a level that you never thought a human could experience. Everything looks different now. Your perspectives and priorities have changed. Your paradigms have shifted. And now you are left feeling raw to the sandpaper of life. You are too sad. You are too joyful. You cry and you laugh at the same time. It’s madness.

The bright colors. The music. The love. The hate. Welcome to the world of being a true fool.

It’s not too late. You can escape the weighted world of being a fool. Go slam your head against a wall and don’t stop slamming it until blood comes gushing out of your forehead. (Or should I say foolhead?)

The foolery only leaves from the blood of your head. You could put leeches on your head, but where are you going to find leeches? They aren’t as easy to find as you might think. No one is harvesting leeches anymore, not in your neighborhood anyway.

I can see I haven’t convinced you to slam your head repeatedly into a wall. Fine. I can’t actually see you but I’m almost certain that you are unconvinced. Only a fool would do to themselves a fool’s errand as to self-inflict his forehead with a wall.

You think you’ve won but the sad truth is that you lost. It only proves that you don’t really have what it takes to be a fool like me. You don’t have it in you, so just move along.

And anyone out there who did follow through and damage his forehead, well then congratulations, you are one of the chosen few; an elite group; the AAA rating in fool.

Now go wash your face. You’ve got blood all over everywhere, you dumb idiot.

God v Superman

The movie Batman v Superman was too long with a two and a half hour running time.  Seems if you cut out all the dead weight dialogue about how Superman was mistaken for God or how Superman was more powerful than God, 15 minutes would have trimmed off of the long running time.

Yes, the creators of Superman, Jerry Siegal and Joe Shuster were Jewish.  The name of Superman is “Kael” which in Hebrew means “like God”.

I have no problems with anyone or anything being “like” God.  We are all like God.  We love and hate.  God loves and hates.  We build and destroy.  God builds and destroys.  But when a mega-budget movie feels comfortable with an audience of millions people across the world, introducing ideas to suggest that Superman could easily be mistaken as God or more powerful than God, this worries me.

After all of these this time, we still entertain the notion that God is some powerful magic man hanging out in the clouds?  Great Scott!

The Jewish God, as I understand him, has little to do with a powerful dude.

God having arms and legs is out.  God being constrained by any physical laws is also out.  God lives outside of time.  God lives in the quantum universe where every possibility of any possible outcome exists simultaneously.  We live in the world of ‘yes’ or ‘no’, ‘right’ or ‘left’.  God lives in the world of ‘yes’ and ‘no’, ‘right’ and ‘left’.

In the beginning there was Home Depot.  In this Home Depot were all building materials needed for Superman to assemble the universe.

NO!  Of course not!

In the beginning there was only God.  God, you know, incorporeal, eternal God.  That God.  Before there was any thing there was no thing.  That’s what God is, a no thing.  Therefore God built the universe with the only material that was around.  That material was himself.

When examined closely (also known as scientifically) the stuff of this universe is a no thing.

Take anything that you think is a thing, what’s it made out of?  Atoms right?

Let’s take an atom.  Here’s one.  Ain’t it cute?  So little.  It’s got your protons and neutrons nucleus with electrons orbiting around the nucleus.  What’s in between the electrons and proton, neutron nucleus?  Empty space, right?  Right.

Up to this point are we all on board about atoms?  You’d have to disavow all of science to disagree.  Let’s keep going and see what else we know about atoms.

How much of an atom is composed of empty space?  How much of an atom is not electrons, neutrons and protons?  Hold on to your hat, 99.999999999999% of all atoms are empty space.  Electrons, neutrons and protons make up of only 0.000000000001% of an atom.

If you blew up an atom to be the size of the Earth our atom would have a nucleus the size of a basketball and the orbiting electrons would be the size of cherry pit.  Everything else would be empty space.

Now lets ask the question: what is that 0.000000000001% of an atom which is electrons, neutrons and protons made of?  What is the stuff that makes stuff?  This is where science gets exhausted.  They don’t know.  Don’t say quarks.  Quarks are just a smaller unit of the stuff that is not known.

Look around you.  Everything you see is proven to be 99.999999999999% not there.  And no one can prove what the 0.000000000001% that is there is made of.  The universe as we experience it is literally an illusion.

Now I will bid adieu to science and give faith a look-see:

I believe in the God of the Torah.  God said, “Let there be light and there was light.”  This illusion called universe is brought to you by God’s words.

The Torah was written three thousand years before any computer code was written.  Computers make a perfect metaphor to how we interact with the universe.  Before the movie, Matrix, we had the Torah telling us that the universe is composed of words.

That’s my God.  Where is he?  He’s everywhere.  He is everything.  I’m going to confuse this God with a dude flying around with his red underwear outside of his pants?   I don’t think so.

Feel free to apply this to your false gods whoever they may be.

 

 

As a side note:  I say with complete lack of confidence, the idea that the universe is composed of code giving a hologram effect is shared in the scientific community.  I’m pretty sure the only difference between an atheist and a theist is that an atheist believes that the universe is composed solely of laws.  The theist believes that said laws are alive and conscious.

 

The Argument Tree

I love to argue and people hate to argue with me.  I used to argue on social media.  I stopped doing that.  Social media never scratched that itch.

We don’t know how to argue with one another face to face.  Facebook only makes it worse.  The human is disembodied and filtered through servers, wires and wifi.  Distance.

Lack of decency aside, I find the design of a thread a perfect way to hide behind your preconceived notions.  There is a dark side to arguments and facebook has made that dark side darker.

Arguing is a bitter taste on most everyone’s mouth.  I get that.  I see where it comes from.  I’ve been guilty myself of getting overzealous on social media and said things that I wouldn’t have said to another person face to face.

Facebook can’t be blamed for the lack of popularity to arguments.  They have been out of vogue for as long as I’ve been alive.

Good thing that the rabbis of Yavneh, Tiberias and Babylon didn’t have the same opinion about arguing.  Where would our tradition be without arguments?  The entire Talmud is a collection of arguments.  No arguments, no Talmud.

Pirkei Avot advocates for arguments for the sake of heaven.  As far as our tradition says, there are good arguments to be had.

I think what frustrates people the most when arguing that there always seems to come to an impasse.  “You think this way.  I think that way.  We’ve run into this wall enough times.  Let’s just agree to  disagree.”

What if argument is a tree?  Trees have branches on the top and roots on the bottom.  In the middle of the tree is the trunk where the branches and roots shoot out of.

If argument is a tree, it doesn’t matter how far up a branch one’s position is and how far down the root the opponent’s position is.  At the very least they can always meet at the oneness of the trunk.

If we were convinced that no matter how many turns the argument takes, at some point there is going to be a consensus.  This consensus might take place at seemingly endless twists and turns down the tree’s branches or up the tree’s roots before the thesis and antithesis become synthesis.  Or it could have just taken three steps down a branch before the two meet.  Either way, you learn about the tree and where you are on the tree.

Where can I find an argument like that?

Fight Club (Jerusalem Style)

I recently got into a full fling fist fight with an Egged bus driver.  I haven’t exchanged blows with anyone for 30 years, since I was 13.  Now you know how old I am.  How’s it going?

Although a few times I have been on the receiving end of physical violent.  Around 8 years ago I was ganged up on and beaten by a pack of Hasidic Jews.

I was a wedding videographer at the time and I got a call to video a wedding the day of the wedding.  It never happened to me to get a wedding gig the day of the wedding.  I accepted the job.  I had to pay off my new video camera.

Upon arrival at the wedding hall, I learned that the parents of the bride hired me and the parents of the groom were dead set against a videographer.  I was instructed to not listen to anyone and to video the event without constraint.

I made it through the wedding ceremony but I was confronted by the mother of the groom immediately afterwards.  She put her hands on my new camera and gave me a tongue lashing.  I instinctively slapped her hands away from my camera, my livelihood actually.  Not to do harm, just to say, ‘hey, don’t touch my frigin’ camera’.  Lesson being, if you want to get beat up by a pack of Hasedic Jews, simply slap the hand of a Hasedic woman.

Those Hasids got me pretty good.  To this day there is a sensitive soft spot on the top of my head that smarts when I touch it.  A reminder of a strike I received from a walking cane owned by an elderly Hasid.

Hasidim old and young joined in on beating me.  I didn’t fight back.  I used one arm to try to avoid blows and the other hand I was holding my new camera behind me.  I was tempted to wield the camera like Samson’s lion jawbone but I refrained.

I was also beat up by a collective around 22 years ago in Eilat.  I was traveling Israel and I wanted to make some extra money as a day laborer in construction.  The foreman fired me and had me walk back the next day for the day and a half that I did work.  When I did so, I felt I was cheated on wages so I called him an idiot.  Lesson being, if you want to get beat up by a team of construction workers, call their boss an idiot.

I got immediately smacked in the face by the boss who was in his fifties so I though I could take him.  When I came after him all of his workers came to his aid and I became a pinball in a pinball machine (google it).

They were good enough to pause the abuse and I was aware enough to grab my bag and run away.  I ran to the bottom of the hill until I felt I was safe, unfollowed and alone.  I remember sitting on a bench with temporary amnesia.  I literally did not know my own name.  I didn’t know where I was.  It took a good ten minutes before my name came to me and which country I was in and such.  For a week I was sporting a huge black eye.

That about wraps up my career in physical violence from age 13 to 43.

FIGHT DAY

My 6 year old son and I were the only ones waiting at the bus stop.  The bus that came was mostly empty.  I took issue with the bus driver when he shut the door the before my son was completely on the bus.  He merely had to wait 2 seconds and there would have been no issue.  I protested to him that he shouldn’t be closing the door on people like that.  He told me it didn’t hurt my kid.  So I asked him if he closed the door on my son purposely.  He dismissively said yes and to just move on to my seat.  That set me off.  I was on code red.  I knew my actions in this state were most never the right ones so at least I gave myself a bit of a pause.  But then I couldn’t help myself.  I shouted in Hebrew, “If you did this on purpose you are a shit person (chara shel ben adam).”  I went to my seat still fuming.  I repeated loudly and disturbingly, “If you did this on purpose, than that’s how it is (chacha ze).”

He mumbled a threat to the effect of wait until we get to the next stop.  I ignored his threat and stayed seated, trying to cool down.

I figured that was the last of our interaction.  Good thing for this blog that it wasn’t.

When we came to my stop, the driver refused to open the middle, back door to get out.  There was another lady trying to get out as well.  I shouted for him to open the door, I saw him in his mirror looking at me.  I headed to the front door that was open letting out other passengers.

If I were a better man than I am, I would have simply walked out of that front door.  Instead I took my open hand and pressed it against his head and gave a gentle shove.  Much more gentle than how he used the door on my son.  I didn’t want to harm him.  I wanted to humiliate him.  Lesson being, if you want to get into a fight with a bus driver, then push him in the face with your hand as you walk by.

He didn’t surprise me when he charged at me from the bus.  I was surprised on how effective my initial punch was when he was coming at me full force.  I sent him reeling backwards.  It wasn’t enough to put him down.  I gave him some more.  I was known as a hard puncher when I was taking karate lessons 6 years back.  I made it to second degree green belt.  Nothing to brag about.  I remember it was 6 years ago because I stopped taking lessons when my son was born.

My son, who is autistic, was no longer holding my hand.  I knew that was a bad thing during this violent exchange.  I had in my mind to finish this as fast as possible.  I hit his head in rapid succession and even kicked him hard in the face.  I heard a gasp of fright from a bystander.  A crowd was forming.

Because of the bus driver’s youth, he was quicker than I am.  He somehow took my legs out from under me.  He then got on top and was having his way on me for a bit.  Luckily for me, he did not punch hard.  He even returned to me a kick on the ear.  My ear was the only thing that pained me from after the fight.

I knew if I got back up, I would  tear him to pieces.  I grabbed him down with me and gave him a few hits.  He pulled himself away and that gave me an opportunity to get up.

I was ready for him if he wanted to come at me again.  He didn’t.  I already started to see his face swell.  I yelled at him, “Is this the way you wanted it?”  He didn’t say anything back.

My son was close by.  I grabbed his hand.  A lady yelled out and told me to just to walk away.  I took the advice.  Good advice.  No need to explain this to the police.

I walked to the light rail and got a “Fight Club” rush.  The movie is real.  I felt great.  Not only did I no longer hate that bus driver, I loved him.

It reminded my when I was 11 years old.  I challenged a new kid named Les to a fight after school.  I think that was the only time I ever offered.  I was many times on the receiving end of this after school activity offer.

Les and I tried our best to fight each other in our 11 year old ways.  We both weren’t very tough.  After the fight, we shook hands in a draw and we were best friends immediately for years thereafter.

Waiting for the light rail was a delirious moment for me but I thought, maybe this is the solution for peace in the Middle East.  We should drop our guns and knives and fist fight our aggressions out and become besties from that point on.

Of course the notion was silly.  Yet, I still think there is something to it.  Look at any of the countries that we were able to come to terms with.  Egypt and Jordan and even pre-civil war Syria, once we duked it as equals, there began a certain level of mutual respect and understanding.  We’ve had a sort of peace with them for over 40 years.

We’ll never have that opportunity to go mano e mano with the so-called “Palestinians”.  This is another reason why the “two state solution” is not a solution.  There will always be strife until  this second state felt they were equals and could stand on their own.  We would never let that happen, nor should we.  This second state would never be a fully viable state like Egypt or Jordan.  Somehow we need to address the mutual respect that we fight club men crave.