Resistance Diary

A new book by Ori Alon

Download as PDF – http://bit.ly/ResistanceDiarySelfHelpGuideByOriAlon

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Enjoy reading!!

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Five Days in the Holy Land

A short non-fiction piece about my recent visit to Israel. Any literary magazine interested in publishing it – please send me a brief cover letter, a short bio of your publication and why do you think your magazine is right for my writing (up to 250 words). Submission fee is $7 (paypal to oribeacon [at] gmail.com). Due to a large amount of submissions I won’t be able to answer personally each submission, but I promise to consider any large or small publication without bias. Please share with your editors friends.

Five Days in the Holy Land

Five days in the holy land. It’s been more than three years since my last visit. I am here now, in America, a Jewish man who chooses everyday not to live in Israel. “I’m pregnant,” said the email that brought me here. And what’s here and there these days, what’s a promised land, what’s a cursed one? Give me your hand, said one leader to the other and so they danced naked in the forest while their people are still killing one another.
Rabbi Nachman, the 18th century Hasidic Rabbi left the Ukraine for his journey to the holy land. But he did not make it to Jerusalem. Jerusalem itself is an unfinished journey, trying to make it to all the dreams and illusions people have about it. One night I was walking out of the old city of Jerusalem. I cut my finger somehow, rubbed the blood on the walls of the old city pretending I’m the messiah, knowing how crazy it is. “If I’ll ever forget you, Jerusalem, my right arm would get paralyzed.” says the psalm that Jews have been chanting during the wedding ceremony, as they break the glass to remember the destruction of the city. Our friend Stephan thought it is a political statement and didn’t want to include it in his wedding. The convert lesbian Rabbi refused to conduct the wedding without it.
The Wall by Pink Floyd, that album flushed through my bare teenager soul. And here I am, some twenty years later, comfortably numb. I was once in a party in which they played Mami, one of Israel’s harshest protest songs: the story of a young Jewish girl that is raped by seven Palestinian workers. “We’ll fuck you ’cos we were fucked”. People danced, the land is being raped for centuries, the Greek, the Romans, the Ottomans, the British and the Jews all sodomize the land in one neverending occupation. They build walls and highways all over the ancient hills, but very few bridges.
I talked to a prophet in a cafe in Tel Aviv. He quoted this and that, explaining why it’s all bound to collapse, how capitalism, corruption and Netanyahu ruined Israel. One year there’s an election, the next year there’s a war, he said. But he didn’t look in my eyes while he was saying that. It’s over. The dream is gone. The skyscrapers, the alleys, the guns, the souls of the unprotected folks who had to die through all of this. The cause and the price we had to pay. Wars are always stupid.
A silly pop song, an American one. I remember the first Mcdonald’s in Ramat-Gan. I was ten, there was a one hour line in order to have a taste of the American dream. And now how I crave these hole-in-the-wall restaurants in the old city. The fig tree is poisoned, its fruits are filled with the juice of hate and intolerance. So are the dates, and even the hummus. And what makes a place? Its smell, its food, its music. Its ideas, its violence, its history. Cultures rise, cultures fall, it’s all just stories we tell ourselves.
There’s no privacy in Israel. In government offices and banks clerks scream questions about your private matters to the superviser across the hall, always giving you a sense that they’re doing you a favor. Everyone smokes there. The single justifiable war America had fought in the last fifty years completely failed to make its way overseas. It feels like everything can get blown away any second, and there’s always enough smoke in the air to make it evident there is fire. The tone of voice there. The fact that I don’t miss it so much. It’s been three years since the last visit, and facebook gives me a taste of home without the aftertaste.
The Hebrew in Israel is often broken. “Nahag, shtayim Akhora”, Driver, two back, said the woman who passed money to the shuttle van driver, a sentence that makes no grammatical sense, while passing to the driver twelve Shekels, six Shekels for each passenger who sat in the back. Languages have lives of their own, and so the Biblical Hebrew had to fit somehow into the shuttle van, the street and the checkpoint. Hebrew and Arabic make love for over a century, a passionate, forbidden affair. Bad words here and legal terms there, like semen and eggs.
Some things you just can’t translate; the puns, the context, the sense and the non-sense of a culture, they’re often untranslatable. But I’m writing this in English, I can’t express it that way in Hebrew, not anymore. “It’s scary,” told me an Israeli writer, a wife of, who suddenly found herself in New York. “And what if I won’t have any language?”
The air got thicker, another war started, it’s only a matter of time. The temple is broken, the heart still functions.
I gathered my childhood memories in a small, portable container. Kissed my mom goodbye and went over to the Duty Free store to get a popular book, The History of Tomorrow. I never thought I’d leave. Was never too excited to travel, always happy to come back. Maybe it was the war, or the pregnancy, or New York. Anyway, I’m here now.

New Adventures of The Magic Bagel

The Magic Bagel is an interactive children’s book I co wrote with my daughter Maayan and takes place in Beacon, NY. The third issue, “New Adventures of The Magic Bagel” is about to come out and is inspired by a program in Mozambique in which 600,000 weapons were exchanged for agriculture tools, sewing machines, building materials and bikes. The weapons were cut and used by artists as material for sculptures. The Tree of Life is a half a tone, 11 feet tall tree made out of recycled guns and is one of the most inspiring artworks I know. You can learn more about the program and the sculpture here  http://bit.ly/1zKU80Q.

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                                                           The Tree Of Life

And on a personal note – I hate guns. As a soldier I had to carry one and I still feel the disgust when I remember the feeling of it. These poisonous metal snakes SHOULD be made into artworks and optimistic stories. I hope you’d enjoy this Magic Bagel issue as much as you enjoyed the previous ones and as much as me and Maayan (and Shasha helps this time too!) enjoy making them. Please share The magic bagel with your families and friends! And if your child or you made an artwork about the magic bagel or an ending to the story of Vera, who brought a magic bagel into a soup kitchen, send it to us!
You can get the previous Magic Bagel books at http://bit.ly/1wia0li for a suggested $5 donation to Doctors Without Borders or your local soup kitchen. We managed to raise more than $600 to these causes and we’re going to decide soon on an organization we’d like to support with this issue. Stay tuned for updates!

Ori, Maayan and Sasha

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Philatelic Meditations

I’ve been making different kinds of snail mail art for many years, like this work for example
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Recently I started to make a comics strip using stamps, and here are some examples.

A comics strip sent to the NRA artistic director

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The local usps don’t always like my artistic attempts to create comics stripes with stamps. This was my response.

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I do believe writing is good for you, though I don’t always write one page a day. Making comics stripes is new to me, trying to phrase complex ideas into one sentence is a great challenge and very satisfying

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Find out more about Alfassi Books and order the Facebook Statuses booklet, a handmade booklet collection of my writings on different social media platforms on which I usually make my comics stripes at www.alfassibooks.com

Ohh and before I forget, the new Magic Bagel book is coming soon! This will be the cover (find out more at the Alfassi Books website)

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Typewriters that heal

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You can see more of my artwork and artistic services at www.alfassibooks.com.

The Magic Bagel is an interactive children’s book I co wrote with my daughter Maayan.

I helped about 20 writers to find typewriters, I’m not in touch with most of them but I know of a lot of great writing that was produced.
Here are some of the colorful handmade sketchbooks I make from old record covers, you can see more at the Alfassi Books website

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Protest songs, protest letters

Bush is no longer a president, but this song is still powerful. Young said he read an article about the war in Iraq and started to sob, soon he wrote “Living with War”, not the most mellow protest album out there. He said he looked at the younger musicians and they didn’t say much against the war, so at the age of 61 he did it himself, and later toured with CSNY around the country and made a documentary about it

As far as I know, the only Israeli mainstream musician who sang more than 3 protest songs in his career is Shalom Chanoch. His last protest song was sang in 1997 – “A person is a person don’t call me a nation”. After the first Intifadah (1987) many Israeli singers vocalized what they think of the Israeli army treatment of Palestinians, like Nurit Galron (“Don’t tell me about a girl who lost her eye”) Shlomo Arzi (“we haven’t learned anything, apparently”) Si Himan (“I didn’t ask for a green plastic hero”) and Chanoch (“your enemy is just like yourself”). But soon after, a political silence came and there are almost no anti-war songs written in Israel these days, similar thing is happening in the US. Therefore Young’s voice is so special.

As a snail mail artist (yes, there is such thing, you can see some of my art here) who send a lot of letters to Israel and to the US, I often try to make political statements using the old fashioned method. Maybe it’s a form of a protest letter, I’m not sure.

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(a sketchbook made out of old record cover, see more of them here)
Lincoln: Who said “it’s better to burn out than to fade away”
Hendrix: Ecclesiastical?
Bird: Pirkey Avot?
Joplin: Mussolini?
Lincoln: What’s up with you? Are you on drugs? It was Neil Young in his masterpiece album ‘Rust Never Sleeps’
Lincoln: Abe, you forgot to mention that Young didn’t write it about anyone specific but about the spirit of the Rock’nroll, even though Kurt Cobain quoted it in his suicide letter

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Hendrix: What’s up Abe?
Lincoln: I’m worried
Joplin: is it because of the Israeli Palestine art world?
Hendrix: it must be the Israeli occupation of Palestinian lands, he’s a lefty
Woman: He doesn’t answer. Hang him!

Reflection of the recent restrictions on the freedom of speech in Israel and Palestine

See more talking stamps at http://alfassibooks.weebly.com/blog/comics-stamps

Don’t call me a nation / Shalom Chanoch 1997

If you come by our block

You’ll see an old writing on the wall

“God, save me from faith”

There’s no chosen nation, only individuals

Not everyone is a full, not everyone admits it

These are Jews, so are these

A person is a person

Don’t call me a nation

Same diaspora here, I’m working for nothing

How many more soldiers  against one suicide bomber

Not of God, I’m afraid of you

Again you’re riding on the blood

Again you think you’re smart

If you didn’t notice, I’m here too

Need nothing from you, from them

A person is a person,

Don’t call me a nation

When flowers are blooming, kids are happy

Old enemies are brothers today

Heros are resting, borders are open

The dogs bark, the caravan goes on

A person is a person, don’t call me

Don’t call me a nation

If you come by our block

You’ll see an old writing on the wall

“Even reality needs protection,

God, save me from faith”

A person is a person,

Don’t call me a nation

 

Let’s impeach the president / Neil Young 2006

Let’s impeach the President for lying
And misleading our country into war
Abusing all the power that we gave him
And shipping all our money out the door

Who’s the man who hired all the criminals
The White House shadows who hide behind closed doors
They bend the facts to fit with their new stories
Of why we have to send our men to war

Let’s impeach the President for spying
On citizens inside their own homes
Breaking every law in the country
By tapping our computers and telephones

What if Al Qaeda blew up the levees
Would New Orleans have been safer that way
Sheltered by our government’s protection
Or was someone just not home that day?

Flip – Flop
Flip – Flop
Flip – Flop
Flip – Flop

Let’s impeach the president for hijacking
Our religion and using it to get elected
Dividing our country into colors
And still leaving black people neglected

Thank god he’s cracking down on steroids
Since he sold his old baseball team
There’s lots of people looking at big trouble
But of course our president is clean.

Thank God

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Coming soon – Perspective, a short picture book memoir

 

 

 

“Perspective” is a short picture book memoir I wrote. Here’s the beginning, if you like it you can order a copy at Alfassi Books’ website.

Alfassi Books is a publishing house I started. It is based on the model of gift economy and offers children and adults literature and unique artistic services, like personal letters writing, alternative certificates and more.

 

Ori

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Coming soon, I hope to finish the booklet in a week. Order your copy here 

 

Ori

Report cards for extraordinary students