Didn't Shakespeare ask, what is in a name?

Didn't Shakespeare ask, what is in a name?

By David Verveer

Finally the first wise decision, in the 100 day old Bibi's coalition government, now that Don Katz de la Mancha instructed to erase all road signs of Arab place names. You realize the terrible confusion of the Arab visitors and tourists, following road signs, seeing El Kotz has just disappeared and a new site of Jerusalem has been build by those Zionists.
Let us ignore the minor problems of the Israeli road system, like the great number of casualties due to bad roads and lack in funds, can you imagine something more worthy that changing road signs. I hope when they are going to execute this urgent task, they will also change the signs stating Herzliyya, (Herzlia), Ranannah, (Raanana) etc., as they are looking ridiculous in the eyes of the English readers, but remember the signage makers are paid by the number of letters.

Another samples are Akko (Accra), Ceasariah (Keasariah), I wonder what will be decided on Haifa (Chaifa) or Kfar Saba (Kefar Sava), it will be interesting, confusing and costly, but well worth it, money well spend, we will show them who is the boss, Jabotinski would have been proud of his disciple.

I read somewhere that Minister Katz decided also to continue the railway to Elath, even though, financially this is considered a waste of money, but like a great leader before him, Herod the Great, he will be remembered for his great construction works.

Why in actual fact we do not call Katz, Mr Cohen Tsedek, or Potz when he disagrees that Jerusalem is named by Arabs el Kotz.

The Israeli Luftgescheft multipurpose patch

The Israeli luftgescheft multipurpose patch

By David Verveer

I like to make from the beginning, I am not talking about the invention of the 21st century, the heart attack prevention patch that indicates that the wearer will get a heart-attack 30 minutes before it happens, I hope it doesn't work, as who wants a heart attack? No I am dealing with a multipurpose plaster, which has an USB outlet, which one can connect to the PC on one side, and the plaster on the other side.

This multi-purpose patch is glued to the upper belly, and will report the blood flow of the patient, heart speed, and other medical facts of the wearer. This invention was developed by a team of scientists, and financed by several inventors. A company was formed called "luftgescheft" and soon can de traded at the Tel Aviv bourse.

The inventor Dr. Chan Tarish, at a meeting with the press told the audience about the invention, how it operates and who will benefit from it. The multipurpose-patch is still in development stage, and the expected date of reaching the market will depend on getting the O.K. from the ministry of Health. The inventor warned that sudden breakdown of the system could mean two main reasons, or power failure on one side, or death of the patient., when this happens, one should not panic, but check if the PC gets it power supply, if of course the power supply is working, Hevrat Kedisha's phone number is written on the patch.
On a question of the audience, if the multipurpose patch also helps to stop smoking, the inventor showed his patch on his breast, and told the press that for reasons not clear yet, the patch gets un-comfortable hot when smoking, which made him stop, around two weeks after starting wearing the patch.

Another journalist asked if the patch works on Microsoft software or Linux, and if failing health won't interfere with the proper operation of the PC. The Inventor thought it would not affect software or hardware, but further investigation would be required.
However, he said the company is working on a disk-on-key type of device, which would be attached to the plaster, and could provide all the software of the P.C.

One of the share holders is Ezekiel the private butcher of the prime minister, who was found guilty on selling kosher meat in a non-kosher zone, and by the way, his wife Jackeline runs a beauty parlor in Jerusalem's Merhavia neighborhood, where many of the wives and partners of the MKs go for their weekly make-up.

The prime minister, when asked, told us that he does not handle the meat provision of the Prime ministers household, and that he never had laid eye on the butcher, nor was aware of his problems with the law. The police was asked to investigate these rumors, which might be related to the Dudu Topaz case.

Last news: The Albanian financing firm "the upside-down Pyramid" indicated their interest in buying 30% of Ezekiel's stock, no further information is available yet.

who is next?

Who is next?
By David Verveer
WASHINGTON - His critics can no longer say President Obama wouldn’t hurt a fly.
On Tuesday, the president - irritated by buzzing during a TV interview at the Executive Mansion - issued a stern and unequivocal warning: “Get out of here.” But it didn’t. And the cease-fire was over.
Obama waited for the fly to settle, put his hand up and smacked it dead in one try. “I got the sucker,” the commander in chief said.
Look at his strategy, first a soft and friendly warning, and if the warned do not follow his instructions immediately, he punishes the culprit with excess force.
Yesterday, the world had a clear insight on how the Great Leader of the Free World operates when he terminated the life of an innocent fly in front of the television viewers. This was a clear message for anybody who dares to oppose him, by telling the political buzzers around him, look how I will deal with you if you do not listen to my warnings, I told the fly to get out, and when it clearly ignored my wishes, I killed it.
But suppose it was not a simple domestic massacre, what would you say if this is part of High Tech Espionage, when the enemy (not yet identified, but could it be that the North Koreans are behind it?) installed a nano microphone in the capitalist' fly's body, in order to record what really was said in the meeting between the President and his guest.
The life span of an ordinary fly is between 15 and 25 days, but I do not think that the late fly, when it was killed by the President, had already reached that age of retirement, after an hectic life of escaping murderous humans, no, our fly would have had at least 5 days left, but again one of God's creatures had to pay the price of being at the wrong time in the wrong place.
The sadistic tendencies of the current president should worry us, it starts with only flies, but where will it stop, public execution of opponents? Think of the sleepless nights of Hugo Chaves, thinking that he could have been that fly, or for that matter, Mrs.Sara Palin, when trying next time?
I wonder what the White house staff did with the Fly's remains, was it fed to the puppy dog, disposed in the rubbish can or preserved for the future exhibition commemorating the rule of the first fly killing President of the United States of America, let her / him Rest In Peace.

my shrinking clothes

My shrinking clothes

By David Verveer

Finally I gave in to the continues remarks by my wife, that I have outgrown most of my wardrobe, and the time has come that I throw (give) away, dispose of, or any of those nasty expressions, which mean to part of my soul, of those which have served me so well over the last 40 years. The remarks by my spouse that I am a "Smattekeeper" which means collector of old clothes, is of course exaggerated, so is also the false accusation that I still have my pajama's from my Bar Mitzvah is of course a imagination of a jealous women, incapable of enjoying possessions, not that it is true, as I never in my live, wore pajama's, which I think is old fashioned, and uncomfortable. Of course I will not discuss here my bed habits; we won't make this a blue story.

Funny anough, I noticed that most trousers seem to have shrunk around my belly section, probably bad tailors, but what do you want, most of these trousers and jackets served me well n my hungry and slim days, and did not adopt themselves for better times and especially better food. Not that I got fat, but the expression of pleasantly plumb might be more suiting.

But tell me, why in heavens name, I had to try on every pair of trousers and decide on its fate to go or stay waiting in my dressing wardrobe, for the day when I finally will start with dieting and sport, and my body-weight will be reduced to my former belt size, something I am planning already for months, but due to chronic complains of laziness, which effects me every time I get near the excise bike. My dear wife tells me that the sport of "FreeCell" (a card-game on the computer) won't help me to reduce, she simply has negative thoughts.

There is an expression saying "clothes make the man", throwing clothes away is thus "unmanly". Look in which a mess I got, having now, at my age to proof my manliness.

My wife, is on a continuous diet recycling course, every time she has lost weight needs to change her wardrobe and throw her last one away, complaining that she has nothing to wear, a few months later, the new clothes won't fit her because she has gained weight again, and again the wardrobe has to go.

I remember when we got married, she had such pretty clothes, where have they gone, and don't give me those stupid arguments as fashion changes, we don't live in the Riviera, we don't have to show off.
Than you get those famous arguments, my friend (my neighbor, my co-workers), wear everyday a new suit, dress, shoes, hairdo, and so on, their husbands appreciate their wives, they care how they look. You wouldn’t mind if I go in rags to work, arguments which repeat themselves on a daily base, but seem to be a part of the marriage relations, not that I ever interfered with my wife's renewing her collection, knowing that this is extremely dangerous terrain.

Didn't Shakespeare, our Jewish lard, say the following: " Thou villain base, Know'st me not by my clothes? No, nor thy tailor, rascal, who is thy grandfather. He made those clothes, which, as it seems, make thee." I have no idea what he intended to say, but it looks very educated to finish with a quotation of Shakespeare.

this is not my lucky day

This is NOT my lucky day

By David Verveer

First of all, I have to admit that I do not believe in luck, bad eye, lucky number or any thing else that can not be explained logically other than "coincidentally". Would I have been superstitious, I would not have dared to write this letter before the bad luck had finished showing its ugly head. I will start with relating what occurred to me this morning until now (the time is just past 8, 30 in the morning).

My wife informed me this morning, that I forgot to congratulate my oldest brother on his 75th birthday, which took place 4 days ago, something, which until now, never happened before, as birthdays are very important in our family, and celebrated yearly with the traditional birthday call on the actual day of the happy occasion, when the culprit changes the number of years on this earth. In order, that the others (my other brother and sister) won't forget, we phone each other as reminder to phone. This year, nobody phoned, all three of us forgot, shame in the family, is it the age, or simply bad luck (that doesn't exist).

Of course, I phoned my brother, the moment the time was decent, as forgetting his birthday is one thing, but phoning somebody out of bed, telling him that you forgot his birthday, is really chutzpah (cheek), my sister in law answered the phone, and told me that all three of us failed to phone, you must admit, that is not very pleasant to hear, but my brother was very large, and after my confession, he officially forgave me, which means that when we are called up (to heaven or hell) he can not use this as an accuse for complains on his brothers.

But enough about the birthday, drinking my morning coffee, reading in the mean time about the problems of the world, the economic crisis and local politics, feeling happily a little bid as outsider, as I have no investments (what so ever) which are in danger of loosing their value, local politics such as "who is joining which party" really does not concern me, as all politicians are the same type of nincompoops (it’s a real word in the dictionary). Than, for no reason at all, my slurp of coffee went in the wrong direction, and I spit coffee on the computer and on the notes,I wrote down, for a project I am working on, making the notes illegible, the floor and computer smelly and dirty, which I had to wipe up and clean. And even though, I did not drink a lot of coffee this morning, I think that it is wiser not to try again.

I am not a breakfast person, and my daily breakfast consists most times only out a cup of strong coffee and a portion of yogurt, this keeps me going till noon, when I eat my warm meal, people tell me that this is really unhealthy, as your breakfast is the most important meal of the day, but since I already reached the age of pensioners in relatively good health, (knock on wood), and most of those who warned me about the importance of breakfast, developed during the days, different health complains, the need for an healthy breakfast might be in the same group of alarmists promoting health foods, no red meat, caloric poor foods, and all the bullshit, which we are exposed to daily, by radio and TV.

If you really believe all those slogans sold to you by the media, it is a wonder you made it till today, and if you add to this, those green maniacs, who tell you that modern live is killing you, slowly but surely burning you up, reading that another oil tanker was kidnapped by terrorists near the Somali coast, that the Government is not yet prepared to guaranty the value of our pensions, that the settler fanatics in Hebron are treating their neighbors and our soldiers like real Nazis, and that I promised my wife to clean the house, and I would have added the sad demise of our dog, but that happened more than 25 years ago, a very sad fact but slowly and surely it seem to lose its punch. But you understand my current trend of thoughts, life is hard, but truly I am not complaining (which does not help), and compare my lot with anybody else, and realize than I am damn lucky (even though, I don't believe in luck, which is simply superstition (and making sure, some more words, such as: "pfu-pfu" – an expression by elder Ashkenazi, against the "bad eye" – somebody who spreads bad luck, but I was told that a Hamsa (and / or mezuzah, near the entrance door of the house has the same strength as "pfu-pfu", but be careful, an single EYE hanger is NOT sufficient strong to defend you against those witches).

Thus, with an optimistic expectation for the remainder of the day, I wish you well, please note, the sun will come back, even if you were so clumsy to spill salt.

24 hours after the end of the world

24 Hours after the End of the World

By David Verveer

It is now about 24 hours after "the end of the World", and I am not sure which law of physics and /or philosophy is now ruling our existence.

Let us start with philosophy, Descartes, the father of modern philosophy stated "cogito ergo sum", which sounds extremely intelligent, and even makes sense after you learn the translation of this statement in English, namely: "I think, therefore I am". I always accepted this statement as true and logical, but now I started wondering, How can I be sure that I really exist (yesterday, before the experience in Switzerland, when one of my front teeth broke, I had the distinct sensation of my existence) but today, after the experiment took place, it might be that I don't exist anymore, and simply because it was not announced officially, and the matter that in combined form makes my body (and soul?) simply continued living on in my mind only, a type of inertia, before the antimatter takes over, and fade us out.

But let us assume that my knowledge of philosophy is based on hear say, without really understanding it, I always considered that "meat is better than bones" (of course this Old Dutch expression relating to a visit at the butcher, and not any macabre reverence of our own body, and in translation means, I believe in reality, based on facts. which brings me to the second argument, "laws of physics".

There are only a very limited number of people who manage or claim to understand what the World of scientists are researching near Geneva. The big bang theory, with scientists researching with enormous expensive, large and complex machinery, created only in order to comprehend how and why our world and the entire outer space were created.

I don't want to sound stupid, but the entire experiment, sounds and looks like "the emperor's new clothes" by Hans Christian Andersen, in which a small boy cries out that "the emperor is naked" as he did not comprehend the theory of invisible clothes, a doctrine and theology which was accepted through out the imperia, by the intelligentsia.

Another relevant example is the enjoyable promotion clip on TV by Muller (dairy products) where the driver of the van asked the question: What does it matter, how the cow produces milk, the importance is, that she is good in doing it". I know it should have been in Latin, stated by scientists such as Einstein or Zweistein, but really, let us get back to reality, what are they doing, trying to establish a new fable (sorry, I mean religion).

Somebody really mixed up our priorities, if I understand, we are running out of potable water, energy, food, space to live in, clean air, public health, but the question of the big bang is certainly not one of them, that can wait until we solved the above shortages, which are about to eliminate our existence on this globe, long before an anti-bang theory end this world with every on it or circling around it, even though, I think this will not happen during my, my children and grandchildren's life time.

The alternative energy development is much more important, using underground thermal (inner globe) massive energy resources which never have been taken into serious research, nor the use of nuclear / plasma power been considered as energy source (not that we do not have the knowledge how to use this unlimited source of energy, but because the world powers backed by the oil industrials, oppose development of alternative energy sources, which will surely be cheaper and cleaner than oil energy.

But coming back to the experiment of the big bang theory, indeed, if we knew what created us, how this world came into existence, we really got one step further in our knowledge, but perhaps this will destroy us as which probably has happened before, during the billions of years, this globe exists and is circling around the sun in this universe. Humans, as we know them, have lived only in a part of a second, in the existence of our globe and solar system, who knows, humans or other living creatures might have reached the same or higher degree of civilization before, and were wiped out by man made (creature made) catastrophes such as research and experimenting with the big bang.

If there is a God, he most likely has given up on us, and is planning to replace us with a more intelligent creation, such as the blue men of Mars (why we always talk about Green Martians?).

better late than never

Better late than never!

By David Verveer

Confidential, for you and your attendants only

Good days arrived; finally our representative in the Israeli Government, Minister Rafi Eitan, the heroic ex-super spy and Eichmann kidnapper has finally awakened. Our super-star has suggested that he and his team will kidnap this time the President of Iran, Mr. Ahmedinayad, in order to bring him in shackles to face the Israeli high court for high crimes against humanity and Gillette, the razor-blade factory for not shaving.
You must admit, it was high-time for the veteran party to take initiative in World Politics; they are not Yes-men and can not be bought with money by Gaidamac.

I have volunteered as member of the expedition and even discussed it already with my doctor, who agreed that exercise will do me well, provide I take my medicines on time. I ordered a new set of false teeth, and a blond hair-piece, and contact lenses, and a nice mini hearing aid, which is nearly invisible. I will be ready, in all weather conditions. I even started to brush-up my Farsi (many years ago, in the time of the good Shah, I spend 5 years in Iran, and was capable to shop in Farsi).

Our team will exist out of 4 volunteers, including Rafi Eitan himself, all extremely fit and well seasoned veterans, most of us capable of walking uninterrupted (even though assisted by a female attendant) for more than a half hour, in the blazing sun.

According to the plan (not yet published officially) we will fly to Georgia, where we will be trained in fighting tanks, there we will receive new identities and papers. It might be possible that a short Russian correspondence course (the Putin Institute for propaganda) will instruct us how to shoot tigress and or elephants (to be found in the Iranian desert), if the environmentalists won't disturb us.

From Georgia we will be taken by horse and cart, through Turkey to the Iranian border, which we will infiltrate in the middle of the night, posing as Islamic refugees fleeing the Communists and Jews. After our arrest by the Iranian secret police, we will be taken to see the President of the Republic.

We have prepared a present for the Iranian leader, an authentic Strudel, which we will offer to Ahmedinayad. The Strudel (prepared by our Mossad Laboratories) contains a drug that will put the person in a passive mood. After the drug will have drugged the President, we take him to the Presidential garden, where a small helicopter will be waiting for us, to take him back to Israel.

If we, by any chance, will be caught by the Persians, we will deny everything, and claim that we were programmed by the GGB. Rafi, our leader has already spoken with: one moment, my wife calls me, I will be back in a moment, yes Pupi, I have taken my pills, and will go for a nap, immediately after I finish this article. I hate it when they disturb me when I am working; it is difficult to remember precisely where I left of, oh yes I remember, " I was talking to my friend, the other day, in the park, he asked me if I remember, that we both competed for the friendship of Amelia, and indeed I do remember distinctly, but can not remember, why?

just back from a trip to mars

Just back from a trip to Mars

By David Verveer

I am just back from a round trip to Mars, (on the way we visited also the moon, and some other outer space regions). My travel companion, my grandson Tom, still on vacation from school, was so kind to hold my hand in frightening moments, but in general, I must say, the trip was wonderful and enlightening. I would have preferred a newer model of space ship, as the one we traveled in was a rather shaky affair, but for the low fees, we should not complain. I thought, however, they would serve some drinks, half way, but no, we went directly up, but wasted some time on the moon, which is really a pity of your time, nobody there, dry like hell and such a silence, the only thing we heard was the guide, telling us what we saw.

Of course, you understood by now that we visited the planetarium in Tel Aviv, and participated in a simulated flight upwards. But this made me think, my grandson is now 9 years old (9 and a half to be precise), and he, most likely, will participate in such trips when he gets to my venerable age (passed 50 years, a long time ago).

When I was a kid of his age now, we did not have TV, or transistor radios, or mobile phones, and if you wanted to phone, you had to go to the sole public phone in the neighborhood, but of course, to whom would you call, nobody had a phone those days. We had a huge radio, standing in our living room, with a station indicator, on which local (one) and foreign stations were written, I don't think it broadcasted the entire day.

Still, we never got bored, like the kids of today, we played, read and enjoyed ourselves with primitive equipment but time available was always too short. Today, my grandkids continuously get new electronic equipment, from play station to hi-fi, what ever that might be, but surprisingly, they get bored, with more than 5 TV stations for kids alone, with DVD (video is already out, not to mention tape recorders, or gramophone players), and their own computer, with non limited sources of sites for kids, and still I hear Saba (Granny in Hebrew) I am bored!

I feel like a prophet, when I imaging my grandson, with his grandchildren go for a weekend to Jupiter, where he rented a solarium for the weekend (included of course a rented rocket for visits to the surrounding moons). There, grandmother prepared for them a take away breakfast) and their favorite entertainment program, injected through their toes, when the youngest child tell his granny, that this antique manner of traveling bores him, his friends from school flown with his parents on robototic plasma waves. Sound wild, remember that if somebody in those days, would have prophesized that you would be able to talk and see each other through the computer (what is a computer in heavens name?), and that it won't cost you a cent (if you don't take into account that your equipment and your connection to internet cost lots of money, and that you have to replace after a year your equipment, because it is not anymore capable to cope with the basic requirements).

O.K, I have to stop now, because my daughter has just sent me by email, pictures of their trip with their kids to Canada, and I have to figure out, how to open them and view them, together with my wife.

habakkuk and david

Habakkuk and David

By David Verveer

I am the third son of a Jewish family, born a half year before Holland was overrun by the Germans. In the Dutch Jewish tradition, the male children were called after their grandfathers and females after their grandmothers. The third child was named after one of the uncles or aunts, respectively the newborn's gender, who untimely had passed away, but when I was born, nobody had passed away (two years later, they were all killed in the gas chambers) but at that time, we were a healthy normative family, and I needed urgently a name, or else they could not perform the circumcision sermon, as this is a written contract of the newborn with God himself. Remember, in those times, only the form of the belly and grandmother wisdom, were able to prophesize the gender before birth.

M y parents, far from religious, however considered the traditions important to them. They decided that the name should be biblical, but the bible is a very large book, with many name possibilities.

They decided to pick the name with the help of a pin prick in the bible, the nearest by name would be my name for life time.

As my mother did not read Hebrew, they had a bible that was a Dutch translation of both the old (our) and the new (Christian) bible, and the first pin prick fall in the Christian section, and was ignored. Than came the second pin prick, which fall on the name of Habakkuk, one of the Jewish prophets.

I don't know if you remember the American song, of a fellow who was named Sue, who looked for his dad, in order to kill him, because the name he gave his son. I nearly was in the same peril, as Habakkuk is hardly a suitable calling name for a boy, how would I be called in short Habby or Kuky. In Dutch nor in English, it doesn't sound nice, and even though, Shakespeare had written, "what is in a name", my parents had mercy on me, and pin-picked again, with the result of finding David.

I am not sure that I (unlike most), consider David a roll model, as he was a sex maniac, acted like a modern Israeli president and raped Bathsheba (a married woman, who he kidnapped), wrote pornographic poetry, (it is a good thing that most people through the ages are illiterate, or learned the Song of Songs in a language they did not understand)

But, the name of David was chosen, the butcher was called in, who shortened my pin to a reduced Jewish size, and since then, I try to persuade everybody (with apparently little success) to call me David. It started with my mother, in a game, she said that my name is "Otofantje" (a play on little olifant (D) elephant (E), on which I answered that my name is not "Otofantje" but David.

When we went into hiding, and I was separated from my family, they (my rescuers), tried to give me a less Jewish sounding name, but all of the names I rejected with the same game I had played with my mother, until I got tired or accepted the slight variation from David to Daantje (small Daniel) a popular name in Holland.

After the war, my family and friends continued to call me Daan or Daantje, and even though I tried everything to get them to call me David, I never succeeded.

Then, 19 year old, I arrived at the kibbutz, and one of the members said for fun, that my nickname will be "Dauwish" (an Arab form from David), if I would not have reacted on it, it would never had caught on, but in my stupidity I protested again and again, that my name in David, without any success. Today there are still people who call my Daan, Dauwish is forgotten, and of course, Habakkuk only a threat from the past, but who was Habakkuk, what do we know about that gentleman? I looked it up in Google.

This 7th century Judean prophet foresaw the rise of Chaldea (Babylon) and prophesied that God would use it to punish and refine Judah. He is among the prophets who began to see that the impending judgment was both for God's glory as well as Judah's purification as a people. He is also known as the prophet of justification by faith alone (Heb. 2:4). The third chapter of Habakkuk is, in fact, a poetic prayer or psalm of faith in God.

Practically nothing is known about Habakkuk's personal history, except for what can be inferred from the text of his book, which consists of five oracles about the Chaldeans (Babylonians) and a song of praise to God. Since the Chaldean rise to power is dated c. 612 BC, it is assumed he was active about that time, making him an early contemporary of Jeremiah and Zephaniah. Jewish sources, however, do not group him with those two prophets, who are often placed together, so it is possible that he was slightly earlier than they. Because the final chapter of his book is a song, it is sometimes assumed in Jewish tradition that he was a member of the tribe of Levi, which served as musicians in Solomon's Temple. According to the Zohar (Volume 1, page 8b) Habakkuk is the boy born to the Shunamite woman through Elisha's blessing.

Habakkuk seems to have died in many places, and his grave can be found all over the place, from Jerusalem, Galilee, even Iran.

Shunam is an Arab village in the heart of the scenic Lower Galilee. It is made up of crowded collections of stone homes separated by narrow alleyways. The village is in the Yizrael Valley, encircled by the mountains of the Lower Galilee.

A mausoleum in the city of Toyserkan in the west of Iran is also believed to be Habakkuk's burial place. It is protected by Iran's Cultural Heritage Organization. The Organization's guide to the Hamedan Province states that Habakkuk was believed to be a guardian to the Temple of Solomon, and that he was captured by the Babylonians and remained in their prison for some years. After being freed by Cyrus the Great, he went to Ecbatana and remained there until he died, and was buried somewhere nearby, in what is today Toyserkan.

The Zohar is widely considered the most important work of Kabala, Jewish mysticism. It is a mystical commentary on the Torah (the five books of Moses), written in medieval Aramaic. It contains a mystical discussion of the nature of God, the origin and structure of the universe, the nature of souls, sin, and redemption, good and evil, and related topics.

And like everything else, it is all connected in a big historical mixture for example, the singer Madonna beliefs in the Kabala, and her adopted African son is called David, pure accidental, of course not, it is all written in the books.

re: commemorating what?

Re: Commemorating what?

By Daniel van Nieuwkoop

First of all, allow me to introduce myself, I am the depute chairman of non religious immigrant organization of Dutch Jews in Kfar Saba central district, Israel (in short the NRIODJKSCDI). I had the pleasure in reading the short article by Mr. David Verveer dealing with the peculiar habit of the Israelites, sounding their sirens in order to induce massive commemoration festivities, nation wide.

Mr. Verveer, conscientious, filled with patriotic feelings, attempts in his short story to relate many of his frustrations of his fellow citizen's behavior, especially their obvious lack in showing their love for their country and humanity in general. However, his short essay requires explanations, elaborating his deep thoughts into a language of anybody. Take for example (without of course comparing holy to un-holy), explaining the bible into the Talmud, like the Passover story relating that council of holy men sat until the morning, to discus the exodus, the truth is that most of them sat, but some of them slept and some of them walked around, (for example the servants that supplied them food and drink). Going back to Verveer's story, his emotional stopping of his vehicle, has a much deeper meaning than just stopping a car, he explains in his prosaic way, his sudden realization that he needs to contemplate his place in society, his obvious lack in concern for his fellow men, as he was un aware of the commemoration ritual until he heard the sirens. I am of course not trying to say that Verveer did not stop his vehicle, as he relates how his followers (on the road and not way of life) did not manage to stop and piled up on him.

But Verveer did not only stop his car, he took at the same time a new breath with love for his suffering nation, ready as always, to think about the sacrifices made on his behalf, and filled with his love for the victims of the before said occasion.

I will not mention his (Verveer's) exemplary behavior as experienced driver, and his safety methods of preventing havoc on public roads by driving slow but secure and keeping safe distance for the car before him, a pity that not more drivers take his lead in preventing accidents, and go on to the final paragraph of this beautiful story, when he relates his discussion with his wife on the events on the road, his wife's reaction should not be seen literary, but his wife figure represents the ignorant masses, who will not see Verveer's heroic behavior as such, but waive it away with a meaningless expression such as "tumtam" ,not realizing that in fact, they should have listened to the famous last words of "William the Silent of Orange Nassau" after he was mortally shot, who said, and I quote: "God has mercy on them (the people), as they do not know better", and Moses to king Pharo: "let my people go".

I took the time to study this short prayer by other drivers, so beautifully described by Verveer. They seem to have said "God for that, ye man", meaning; let the people know, is all in God's hand, based on an old phrase mentioned by Jacob when he realized his sons were switched, and that he blessed the wrong (in our beliefs, the chosen) one.

I will end my somehow emotional letter by thanking Verveer for his sacrifice and his example as senior citizen in service for his nation, God bless us all.

commemorating what?

Commemorating what?

By David Verveer

With screeching brakes (I don't know if this is the right spelling for a loud squeaking sound of the tires on the asphalt), I managed stopping my car on the high-way, after hearing the non expected sirens, indicating that we (patriotic citizens) memorize the fallen victims of one of our numerous wars. Generally, I am well prepared for those sirens, and stand in full attention near my car, minimum 5 minutes in advance, as I don't want to look not patriotic.

However, this time, not only, they did not warn us in advance, I even did not know (and still don't know) what was the occasion, did we commemorate the Holocaust victims, fallen soldiers, soldiers who died and their burial grounds are unknown or the last (2^nd) Lebanon war. But I was not alone in the confusion, a file of cars behind me, also stopped their cars, but unlike me, they did not leave their cars, for them it was sufficient to utter a short prayer from the open window, which sounded to me like "yossy and matty mania", but I really don't know, as I don't know Aramaic, and those prayers are generally in the local language of that time, just like the yishkadal" prayer.

I however noticed that this prayer is shouted, and an angry face expression is required, I will have to ask my grandson, how one performs this custom.

Funny, some of the motorists were even less prepared than me, as they bumped on each other, which is stupid and shows that they did not pay attention to the road, I was taught to count 21, 22, 23, distance from the car before, and if that car suddenly stops, I will have sufficient time to stop. But I am really a good driver, never drives faster than 43 km an hour, and people always blow their horns in appreciation when they pass me on the way. Funny expression, "blow their horn", of course they don't blow anything, only push the button, but you understand what I meant.

I stood in attention until the sirens stopped, but even without moving my head, I noticed that especially the very religious and pious Jews continued their drive, ignoring the call for showing their respect for the sacrifice made also for them, but that does not amaze me, as I have seen videos, were those rabbis refused to sing our national anthem. I personally would have saluted, but last time I saluted my grandson told me that only people in uniform salute.

When the sirens stopped, I got back in my car and continued my journey, but many other motorists stayed behind, and I expect they discussed their deep emotions, of the happenings of which they were so suddenly reminded by the sirens. I always enjoy the intense nationalism and patriotic feelings of our citizens, in the last 60 years we really became a united nation.

When I came home and told my wife what has happened on the highway, she looked at me in a real funny way, and only said "tumtam" (stupid), meaning that I get emotional about those little things, but you must admit, getting emotional about the behavior of your fellow citizens, is a positive reaction.

p.s. sirens were heard all over Israel, during a national civil defense execise.

commander haim bunt vc

Commander Haim Bunt VC

By David Verveer

Professor Doctor (Med) Joseph Bunt, with his wife Flora (nee Solomon) and their three siblings, Hanna, age 5, Haim age 3 and baby Benjamin arrived in England in the winter of 1920 from Germany, where living conditions for Jews became extremely unpleasant, due to the rising anti Semitism, blaming the Jews for the defeat in the First World War and all other problems facing the Germans during the period between the two world wars.

Professor Joseph Bunt was a distinguished and leading expert and pioneer in PBL (problem based learning) , a new trend in discovering the way our brain functions and possible causes of dysfunctions and abnormalities influencing the natural learning process. The Liverpool University Medical School approached Professor Bunt and offered him a research position, and as Professor Bunt correctly worried for the future of the Jews in Germany and the future of his children, he accepted the offer with both hands, and packed his bags and moved his family to Liverpool.

Liverpool at that time had a relatively large community of Jews, many of them, immigrants like the Bunts. For those families with money, Brownlow Hill, situated between Lime Street and Paddington, was the perfect place to set up home and make a living. There was a huge proportion of the street dedicated to Jewish families; although they lived quite happily alongside English families.

The majority of Jews arrived in Liverpool around 1900 to escape the Pogroms and persecution in places such as Russia and Poland, the Jewish community in Liverpool stretches way back to the 1700s. The Jewish Community has helped to shape the future of Liverpool, and played a large part in its success building libraries and businesses, taking several of the Lord Mayor positions throughout the years - and even helping to develop Liverpool's renowned musical heritage with Brian Epstein managing the Beatles amongst others

The Jewish community goes much further back than the beginning of the 1900s, there is a misconception that the Jewish people only arrived in Liverpool round about 1900 when there were Pogroms in Russia and Poland and thousands of them decided to emigrate to America. That's when the majority of Jewish families settled in Liverpool, they had to go through the UK and the boats brought them over, they came through by train to Liverpool with the plan to get on the boat to America and although a lot of them actually did go to America, hundreds of them decided to stay in Liverpool! Because they arrived by train, immediately behind Lime Street Station was the neighborhood where they decide to settle, in the Brownlow Hill, Coppras Hill, Pembroke Place, Crown Street area."

The earliest Synagogue was a little house in Cumberland and Stanley street round about the 1740 or 1750s. They were a mixture of hawkers and peddlers, but then there came quite established people, they were merchants who came from Hamburg or came from London and who saw great opportunities as Liverpool seaport was expanding and they contributed very extensively to the well being and wealth of Liverpool."

The families that came over were fairly poor, they couldn't speak English, and the first thing they realized was that they had the opportunity to send their children who were born in Russia, to schools. So this generation became very educated, and they became doctors, lawyers, solicitors, architects, businessmen, and they did very well and they thrived.

There's something in the makeup of Jewish people that they believe that if the city that they've lived in and thrived in has been good to them they want to give something back to that city, so Jewish people gave back by taking part in local politics, for example there were seven Lord Mayor's from the Jewish community in Liverpool, many benefactors for example the Lewis family which goes back well before the 1900s, they were the founders of the Lewis' store and are a family that has given back a lot to the city.

Every university student who has studied in Liverpool will know the Harold Cohen library - well that was the Lewis and Cohen family who donated money for institutions to be built. In entertainment - Frankie Vaughan is synonymous with Liverpool and the Jewish community, the Beatles I think will always owe a lot of their success to having a Jewish manager Brian Epstein who was from a Jewish business family in Liverpool.

Princes Road Synagogue

One man who remembers when the trans-migrants came from Russia ready to go, they weren't staying in Liverpool so they were put up in lodgings over night near the Oceanic Hotel and places like that by the shipping companies while they had to wait for the ship going off to the States. He recalls going down there when he was a young kid, and they would come and do street entertainment while they were waiting for the ship to take them to America, they would play the accordions which they managed to bring with them, and he used to delight in it and remembers very clearly the atmosphere that they produced during the very little time they spent in Liverpool, just in the two or three days before they were shipped on elsewhere."

Liverpool opened its arms to the new settlers…

Remarkable is the social acceptance of Jews, there was very little anti-Semitism, in fact John Wesley the Methodist preacher mentioned in his diaries how well the townspeople of Liverpool get on with the Jewish community, although it was only a small community then.

"There was an interesting established community even before the major immigration from the pogroms going back to the 1740s, who had produced some very interesting characters, including the Quack doctor, Dr Samuel Solomon who became exceeding rich from his sale of the very cleverly named tonic called 'The Balm of Gilead' with it's biblical overtones, and there were all sorts of other interesting characters like that.

Another indication of the social acceptance of Jews in Liverpool is that well before they were allowed to stand for parliament or municipal officers they were accepted to become members of the Athenaeum, a very high cultural society, an indication of the city's cosmopolitan tolerance, that Jewish communities and other communities have been more welcome here than other locations you can think of in England and elsewhere.

Haim Bunt, who was called James, went to the King David Primary school and continued the King David Jewish high school , which he finished with high grades, that enabled him (with the finances of his rich father) to enroll Eton on a literary scholarship, (this was near the end of the European conflict of the second world war, in the year 1945).

Even-though, talented, James was not the scholarly type and soon his scandalous behavior with friends of the opposite sex, caused him to be expelled. James was not religious, nor interested in Jewish way of life, and even his best friends did not know that James was from a good Jewish family. Not that he lied about his religion, he simply never mentioned it, and thought it irrelevant, specially, now when anti-Semitism started to show its ugly head in England.

With the help of friend of his parents, James enrolled at the Royal Military Academy at Sandhurst. The Woolwich Military Academy and the Sandhurst Military College were closed during the Second World War. The Royal Military Academy at Sandhurst was reopened in 1947.

Getting accepted at Sandhurst is quite a feat, specially for Jews, who are a rarity in this selected group of gentlemen, but James, who had changed in the mean time, his family name from Bunt to Bond, had no problem to fit in this society. He proved to be extremely suitable in intelligence, speaking several languages without any trace of accent, and a remarkable memory which enabled him to get out all problems placed before him, thus it was no surprise when after two years, he graduated and joined the Army as Intelligence Officer.

We are now talking about the Cold War Years. The golden years for espionage, intrigue and spy romance, and getting a spy debriefing his adventures to an intelligence officer with writing talents is a fantastic recipe for spy stories. Indeed, the author Ian Flemming, an intelligence officer, who had also served abroad, was appointed the debriefing officer of James Bond, and recorded his tales, which became the raw material for his James Bond books and films.

After getting seriously wounded during a failed action in Hungary, James retired from services and bought himself into an import and export business , and due to the publication of Ian Flemming's James Bond books, he changed his name back to Haim Bunt.

Today, Haim Bunt, (James Bond) is 90 years old, retired and lives in a luxury retirement village in Florida, together with his wife for 20 years, Batya (nee Cohen). When I asked him, during the meeting last month, what are his thoughts on Israel and Zionism, he told me that he contributes to all Zionist causes, but is not interested in living in Israel (too risky), but had visited the country several times. When Batya left to bring a new round of drinks, he told me in confidence, that he liked specially the Israeli girls, he had seen during his visit.

When I asked him, if he saw all James Bond films, he told me that they were too much romanticized, that espionage is rather boring work, where patience is not only a virtue but also a necessity. When I asked him, if there were still untold stories, he laughed and told me, that the best stories remained untold, due to signing the secrecy act of Her Majesties Services.