Introducing the Hardline According To
     ...Ofer Maimon

Outline of a pome i won't be able to finish. It runs about thus. Sixteen spokes. And the grey sheets of rain the threateningly dark green forests and the shattered earth and wagons rocking in the sleet creaking wheels and sixteen spokes And the toddlers playing hide and seek in the mud tent canvas stiff and cold in the predawn raising them slick heavy poles the wheel repairman mutter under a frozen breath and over them broken Sixteen spokes. The color of blood. Ruby Soho streaming through the paper walls, my neighbor listening to the radio, having his habitual breakfast on vodka and cigarettes. And I can finish it as much as I could start it.

Not brown not blue and certainly not green her eyes are black mirrors they mirror anything and everything the deep dark green valleys of her Kentucky childhood banjos clear frosty mornings and mountain blues Florida alligator poaches and swamp hues her eyes are black mirrors desolate trucker stop motels at midnight Delancey street in NYC at first sunlight over Williamsburg bridge The one time somebody called her “nigger” and meant it. Her first miscarriage. Her only daughter born. To a man that went to Iraq. Signed on the day after 9/11 and never came back. She misses his smile and his hands trough her hair. brown hands Not brown not blue and certainly not green her eyes are black mirrors the rainbows in my heart as I walk up to her. So I walk up to her.

It´s like a whip in in these project nights as if these high rise concrete buildings where the window lights go out one by one like a whiplash to them skies above in diamond pillars going out as if we were never meant to go any further as we had no choice but to turn the lights out and never ask for anything but sleeping subway trains and closing hot dog stands as if this was all we were promised as we were never more than slaves born only to wake up with the alarm clock siren to another day in the machine making machine As if my patrons of the diesel dunking heart rain shine arteries were never there as if the shining neon snakes that wriggle through the nights of ice to warmth to harbor as if those dawns were never there as if my kingdom of the destitute, the homeless and the drunk were not your fears and punch clock worries as if they did not not guard the tired, lost and weary  As if she wouldn´t  once the kids...

So last Thursday I took a day off from work and spent said day stressing and sweating and cursing behind the wheel of a rented Citroën Berlingo, moving myself and my belongings out of Jerusalem´s Old Jewish quarter to the Hatikvah neighborhood in Tel Aviv. Arguing with different fiefs to have a rented car allowed into the Rova is no mean feat, and once allowed in, navigating it´s hair pin alleys and plazas among a million Israeli school trip teens, German sight seers and grumpy charedi soon-to-be-ex neighbors is nobody´s idea of a sinecure either. Or being stuck in traffic 45 minutes just to get back onto Highway 1 for the return trip to Tel Aviv for that matter. Civilized mouse trap..... In any case It´s done. The week leading up to the move went in the sign of bloody murder. It seems the future tenant of my dump in the Rova has a phobia towards the rodent species, and hence my land lady ordered me to buy mouse traps and get rid of the problem. Not sure why she considered this to...

Blogger is kindly supplying me with stats for my blog. This is nice. However. The two blog posts that by far get the most amount of traffic are: 1) Shul bevaiour and pot smoking and 2) What is the problem with men Seeing as I work in SEO (Search Engine Optimization for those of you who lived under a rock the last 7 years), I can´t really understand this – how many pot heads worry about shul behavior enough to google for it? A tip from the coach: DO NOT be a pot head! That simple. You will eventually become very stupid, and on top of that achieve a very dark and gloomy outlook on the world and Hashem´s creation. If you have to light up, do it once a month. Tops. The other question that arises - are we men really that bad to have that many women trying out the Internet for an answer to what the hell we are up to? That would explain why lately it has become almost impossible for me even to get a date:-) So....if you you are a man and feel that article is anywhere close to ho...

Time flies when you are having fun, and well, when you are not having so much fun too. It´s soon been two years since I moved to Israel, and I just turned one year at the office, and the staff has grown with almost 100% since. Affiliate marketing for the online casino business do seem to be the new shit. Other than that I´ve moved to the Old City of Jerusalem, something I stupidly decided to do via collective traffic means which resulted in 2 weeks of schlepping stuff from Beer Sheva to the office and then to Jerusalem after work and then back to Beer....well you get the idea. Bad idea. Don´t. Below some action points since....November. Shame on me. * They have a Light Festival in the Old City currently. So they build this huge cupola of differently colored neon lights outside Jaffa Gate. And hung weird light decorations everywhere, including a huge spinning cork screw outside in green neon outside the rebuilt Hurva synagogue. This festival seem completely Ad hoc. Probably initiated ...

I'm not even gonna try to say something eloquent to excuse the lack of updates on this blog. Suffice to say I've been busy, primarily with my day time work at Webpals  as Content Writer, but lately also with setting up websites to drive traffic to a friends online shop for Swedish Snus, and hence trying to get a better grip on SEO as well as website building. If any one should want to ponder the results so far you find them here and here respectively. So far this latter engagement has only cost me money, but then again, if a few thousand Israelis could get it into their heads to quit smoking, it might be worth it. Other than that. * Politics here in the Middle East has been a complete mess for almost a year, and commenting on it would require full time dedication. Suffice to say they started handing out gas masks to government employees. Everything is pointing to war, but there are many theories as to when, why and who. Even western media has started writing about what ...

So I haven't updated the blog for some time and the reason is simple. I landed a job and started working a month ago, and as I live in Beer Sheva and work in Tel Aviv I spend almost all my spare time, 4 hours a day, on buses. It's driving me slightly insane but I'll be moving to Bat Yam in a month or two. Below please find a few action points, each of which would deserve their own posts. In the best of worlds they might get them, bit in the meantime, here we go. * Woke up to the sad new today that the grand son of the great Baba Sali , Rabbi Elazar Abuhatzeira, had been murdered here in Beer Sheva, just three blocks away in his Yeshiva. He was one of the country´s most important Mizrachi Rabbis, as well as my Ravs neighbor and my Rabbanits Rabbi. I went over to my Rav and talked for a while. The Rabbanit looked as she had been crying all night. Sad times. Baruch Dayan HaEmet. Zicrono LiBracha. * I went to Sweden for a while. Horrible weather and I got homesick for I...

So it's Friday and Shabat will kick in in a couple of hours and seeing as it's been at least a month since my last post I thought I'd say a word or two about the past, rather busy, month. * Summer has started. That means in Beer Sheva, that it's around 35 Celsius during the day and that the temperature difference between night and day is getting smaller and smaller, and that a fan in the room is once again a prerequisite for successful sleeping. * Some Palestinian leaders are beginning to question the "Let's get a state in September via UN" strategy. No shit, Sherlock. Irrespective of what happens in the vote, it will indeed be diplomatically embarrassing for Israel, seeing as the latest US Administration has ushered in an impressive "Let's Hate The Jews" feel to international politics. But then what? Israel is embarrassed for a month or two, and after that the Palestinians still have no state, they have corrupt Fatah and terrorist Hamas...

This Shabbes Doron The Vibe came over for a visit. He's found a job in Tel Aviv cleaning homes and stairs, and seem happy not to have to deal with telemarketing. It seems a lot of telemarketers demand of their callers to claim to be calling from the US. Apparently they assume that the hatred for Israel is of such proportions that people will refuse to by prescription meds without prescriptions from an Israeli company. Prescription meds without prescriptions? Yep, that was the last gig he looked into and I fail to understand how this can be legal. Who knows. ' In any case my plan was to get up reasonably early to clean up the apartment that had turned into a rather disgusting mess with Dorons absence (he was the cleaner here, sort of...). But the previous night I couldn't fall asleep and woke up from Doron banging on the door around 3 PM. Panic! I ran down to Supersol and managed to get in just before they closed to buy food. Meanwhile Doron started cleaning the apartment,...

So a miscalculation on my part led me last night to realize that I'm all but broke, and that I need to find a job pronto.  Obviously this is easier said than done. Being an immigrant with still fairly poor command of the native language, my options aren't that great. It's a humbling experience. I have, of course, applied for every copywriting position for English language copy I've found, and there are quite a few. So far though, with one exception, no one has come back to me, probably because of my lacking Hebrew. For even if the writing language is English, the working language is not. The exception? Well a Forex web site of a company in Hertzeliah asked me to provide them with a writing sample. I did some quick research on the company – bforex.com – and it took me some two hours to determine that their forex trading web site is basically a scam. The web is replete with complaints from people who hasn't been able to get their money back from them, either because...

* The Vibe has found an apartment in Tel Aviv and is – it seems – moving out tomorrow. He´s also found a job as a telemarketer, pushing dugs if I understood correctly. He doesn't seem too happy about the telemarketing thing, but he´s looking forward to the move. In the meantime he and Roger have constructed a web page where you can elicit his services and buy his books, so if you feel you need to throw your inner light switch, you can visit him below. * Me personally, I am going to miss him very much. Although somewhat skeptical about his vibrating spleen (or Light Activation as he prefers to call it), he has been a fantastic friend and a real Mensch . * Speaking of web sites, my eminent and beloved friend Nano has started a company with a few other Creative Pros named Brickit . They are specializing in the creation of mobile apps for iPhones, Android and other Smart Phones and Handhelds. Yours truly has written the copy for their web site (English version is in the t...

The funny guy will tell you there are only two seasons in southern Israel: Green and Brown. While this may be hyperbole, summer definitely belong to the brown season. So I thought I'd go out and document the Green season, a bit late but still. The results you'll find in the below pics. Enjoy.

”You know, I think Assad is going to fall”, my old Kurdish friend tells me over Skype last night. ”Something is happening although nobody knows exactly what. You need to understand that just a few months ago, no Syrian even here, in the diaspora , dared to say anything against Bashar Assad. That is how scared everyone was .” Now he tells me that in a village in Kurdish Syria, a group of elders had visited the secret police, asking them to take down a statue of Bashar Assad, for as they had said: ”The youngsters are so angry we can't control them, it's better you do it.” The blood baths this passed weekend at funerals in Syria, with security forces killing around 17 civilians, again puts the finger on the double standards of the West's involvement the Arab Spring and it's revolutions. The Syrian diaspora is watching in disbelief how Nato has intervened militarily on behalf of a disorganized and Al-Qaeda linked Libyan opposition to overthrow a dictator who has spent t...

Insomnia has been the name of the fame lately. Blurry nights and blurrier days. People tell me I should cave in to the stillnochts. But I don't know. I still doubt it's really a chemical issue, I guess. Currently I'm indulging in nostalgia by way of a Youtube Safari into the golden age of Swedish Hip Hop. Should you wonder what was created under this short period that lasted from around 1994-1998, I recommend having a look at "Blend Dom", by Latin Kings, the group that ushered in said Golden Age. Other than that I spent the last couple of minutes trying to change the font of my last post, a pome that may not be for eternity, but at the time fairly well captured my thoughts on the emptiness of putting yourself at the center of the world at ever instant. And I can't get this poem to read out in the predefined typeface of this blog, no matter how many times I paste it back and forth from my trusted text editor BBedit. It remains in some screwed up version of H...

to be selfish is to be by your self at your self and for your self and by your self tailoring every one to your self measuring every one to your self for your self and no matter how many admirers lovers followers disciples you may acquire cajole or attract covering every object emotion feeling life that passes walks talks lives before you with your self in the end being selfish is being lonely by your self

Last night I fell asleep around 2 AM. At 4.30 I awoke because someone was banging hard on my door. Drowsily I lifted my head. "What the hell?" "Air raid siren"", Quentin yelled, "missile incoming!" We rushed out in the kitchen and sat down by the walls, while the sirens kept on wailing. Then the siren stopped and we both watched in amazement as Doron came out of his room, busy getting dressed . "Sit down!" Doron looked perplexed. Silence. Silence. Then a thunderous boom that shook the building. From Quentin banging on my door it may have taken some 40 seconds, but it felt more like 5 minutes. Doron looked slightly bewildered at us and then he sat down by the other wall. After the rocket had landed. After a little while we got up and looked through the window. The rocket had landed just 200 meters south of us after flying over our building, and exploded on the street where my synagogue is located. Had it flown 3 more meters it would have...

Few things will lighten up your Shabat evening like getting cracked over the head with a chair. Twice. The evening started out as usual, with me and Quentin lighting the candles and heading off for Kabalat Shabat at the nearby Kippa Shul (The "dome" above it has the form of a Kippah, hence the name). After services we went over to the eminent Rav Nissim and had a nice shabbes dinner with signing and eating and a great atmosphere as per usual, nothing peculiar except that crazy Pavlova (see earlier post on the subject) was in attendance for the first time in a couple of months (the Rav had enough of his constant insulting and fight mongering with the other guests and asked him to stop coming). In any case, he behaved and around 10 PM we split for home, planning to make a quick visit to Peters birthday party. Peter is a well-mannered English gentleman of 57 who made aliya about a year ago. He is also a fencing Master, busy teaching his students how to handles sables and oth...

The United States of America what do I care about your super malls and deserted dusty desert highways the lonely light of a homesick highway electra glide patrolman draws a lonely golden creek between the mountains your war on terror communism and drugs lost and won and lost again and stars and bars and drunks and stripes on your shoulders and around and your single mothers working the split shift at Norms your suffocating suburbs with their rows and rows and rows of homes your working class in black and white and your heroes in technicolor apollo, vietnam and saginaw and dead presidents, money on your mind your great lakes who took a thousand sailors to her depths the new jersey turnpike, winter dawning of walden or Kafka or mice of men or saviors in ryes or bright lights big city flakes of ash and soot and snow still falling through your dreams there is a girl in new york city that paul simon called the human trampoline i call her blue for the the colo...

So it's that silly day again. We've all seen the movies and heard the cheesy song about the boy/girl who doesn't get a card in the high school mailbox or posted flowers or whatever is the Godot of this day. It's a cultural cliche even for all us peeps who were lucky enough to have seen light outside The Home of Fly-over states and bad posturing. In the end, the girl get's the boy or vice versa. Here in Israel it's two hours left of this florist-invented day and I haven't gotten a single lousy binary FB salute or digital bouquet of flowers. Reason to believe my admireresses can be counted by the dozen minus twelve. Makes me think of a conversation I had the other day, when one of my friends in this my new homeland came for a visit. For whatever reason we started talking about the notorious " Shidduch Crisis " in the religious Jewish community – meaning the fact that a large crowd of religious singles nowadays tend to stay single forever, until th...