I was sitting at the bus station minding my own business.

A man of about 50-55 comes towards me and asks if it's all right if he smokes. I thought it was very (see, overly, for the society we live in) polite of him to ask and said "sure".

This was quite obviously a ploy.

He begins to tell me a story.

"I just couldn't sit at the other bus station. There was a girl there; dressed far too revealingly for me, her chest hanging out and short pants".

I'm staring at him as though he's grown an extra head. Instead his beard, peyot, kipah (yarmulke/skull cap) and tzitzit become glaringly obvious props for his forthcoming tale and story.

In my head, I'm screaming: "Why? Why is this man talking to me and regaling to me this bullshit story!?"

He continues (sans my loud thoughts that this man is a religious nut): "I ask [the aforementioned girl] do you believe in G-d?"

In my mind: "Mercy!"

He tells her words: "'Yes' she says and I ask you [that is, me and the universe in general most likely] if she's have said 'yes, but I sin', I could live with that... But dressed the way she is... how can she say that!?".

Meanwhile, I'm trying to understand why this woman (if she indeed exists outside this man's narrative) engaged with this man, seeing as I was doing my best to Not Engage with this person and his irrational tirade about how this woman's dress somehow marks her heretic - obviously I'm the best audience ever! What with my long jeans, trainers, long-sleeved shirt and high necked top underneath it.
If only we were telepathic, nay?

He goes: "She tells me her beliefs are simple. How can creation be simple?!"

How I wished I had a desk on which to bash my head and his continuously!

Throughout this entire time I'm dying for a bus, any bus to arrive to take one of us away! I'm also silent, grimacing from time to time and keeping away from him as much as possible while not leaving the bus stop - I really did not feel safe enough to tell to STFU... perhaps if there was another person there I would have told him to stop bothering me... but *Gah*, the situation just really did not encourage aggressive-aggression and I went for body-language instead.

"Creation can't be simple" this man says, "I tell her [still this very-well-could-be-fictional-girl] 'that table? You see it? Someone designed it, yes?' she replied 'yes'. So no tell me G-d doesn't exist!"

I was ready to throw up on him. I had been feeling queasy regardless, but I could have blown chunks over this.

He continued with this line of talk and thought for a good ten minutes, in addition going on to inform me that the Bible predicted Swine 'flu (o_O) and that according to Rabbi What-ever-the-fuck 14,5-and something are going to die because that's the Gimatric interpretation of the Hebrew letters of Swine 'flu (which are שפעת חזירים).

I actaully breathed a sigh of relief when his bus arrived and he was out of my life.

It was just too odd. I don't think I'd ever been proselytised to before. Obviously him asking me if he could smoke was a ploy to start engaging me in conversation.
Good tactic.

I now have a funny anecdote about Jewish fundamentalists... who are so different from all the other ones you encounter in the street (much to our annoyance)

---

Off Topic, but related to the fact that I'm home and talking about this.
I'm feeling queasy and at the last minute decided not to go the talk tonight, because I'd rather not be sick in front of people.
I'm disappointed, but hopefully I'll be able to catch the DAM people at a later date during their visit in the region.

It's been raining cats, dogs and frogs since Friday.

Today Mummy made Ginger short-bread biscuits for Libby my niece and I.

I had been in my room studying and the smell had been wafting about.

Not too long after Mummy called me and she started cutting the flat short-bread and I ate it.

Divine, I tell you. Divine!

Nothing like fresh baked anything on days in which the sky is falling.

I don't think my internet persona is that different from my RL persona.

The one-sidedness of blogging and not having to be considerate of interrupting someone or someone interrupting me makes me more eloquent online, it also stops me from being repetitive in the same paragraph - at times, during conversation, my mind can go blank and I struggle for a word which will either be in the other language I speak (the danger of bilingualism) or I'll lose both words because I'm trying to figure out which is more appropriate.

It's frustrating, and quite obviously I'm the only one who takes it badly because hiccups in conversation happen all the time! I'm not giving a presentation or reading a speech.
I'm not an orator.
Stuff happens.

That's not where I was going with this post.

Backing up. Ah, yes.
My persona.

People behave differently depending on the context and people in which they find themselves.

I can be very shy at times, which surprises people with whom I'm very gregarious.

I've been told my internet persona belies my niceness and charm. Because, yeah, I do try to be nice and pleasant and friendly. Even with people that I don't particularly like or get along with, if I'm in the vicinity I do my best so that everyone gets along.
Until I don't.
And as I know and been told:
"Mel, when you're mean, you're scary"
I am assertive and my voice can pitch in a way that can be grating and strident and makes people tell me to "tone it down" which makes me even more irritable and thus... well, you get the picture.

I suppose because the social niceties that I pull off so well and easily IRL aren't required for online interaction. I try to be respectful to any one I communicate with, there are exceptions of course, because when I people don't bother to keep their prejudices to themselves, I don't see why I should keep my opinions on said prejudices to myself as well.

I can be rude. I often am online. Assertion is read as aggression and you have to be clear in your writing because ambiguity is so easy to write unintentionally. Intentional writing will always carry a harder punch and more often than not, I don't pull the punches I write.

If you've met me IRL, you know I'm quite bubbly and babbly. That I'm bouncy and *squeeish* (something I manage to convey online at times, for sure) and that I'm loud and have no poker face.

I'm quite sure my online persona is just waaaaay more eloquent when it comes to talking about things that make me go *ARRRRGH* seeing as IRL, I tend to go *splurterscoughshriekBWUH!Eff-U Man!I-got-something-to-say!NO-I-WONT-BE-QUIET...* - this can also be what goes on in my head, because like many a family & friends gathering, many people say things that they believe are appropriate - like racial slurs (which I try smack down when I'm within earshot), sexist remarks (which are so pervasive in interaction as well) and homophobia laden comments (har har, oh yeah, you thought she was a man, that's fucking precious, har har) - and the situation calls for decorum, niceness and charm.

That bubble was bust a long time ago, but behaviour dies hard.

I come off strong.
I'm cool with that.

It makes me memorable.

Last night I and a bunch of friends played the Beatles: Rock Band.
Which is possibly the best game ever!

I'm not a huge X-Box or Play Station person, I'm not a huge computer game person in general - although I'm quite a addicted to Plants vs Zombies, play it! You won't be able to stop until you've finished all the Adventures! - any way... I'd never played before and I immedaitly sat in front of the drum set and my BFF and I (as zie picked me up from home and the whole evening (night! we played until 3 am!) played while we waited for the others to arrive.

Zie and I are huge Beatles fans and we have songs that we love to, ahem, harmonise (I cannot sing, but I love karaoke... not fun for the audience, alas) so we sang Getting Better, I am the Walrus (personal fave!) Hard Day's Night, Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds and Revolution and then other people arrived (you know who you are) and we sang some of the same songs again (I relinquished the drums... now my regular instrument I can tell) for the guitar/bass (there's only one at the moment) and for solo singing.

Imagine a bunch of Grrls Belting out Beatles!

We also played the regular Rock Band, but it was so tame and lacked any kind of emotional pull compared to the Beatles: Rock Band.

It was awesome and I'm now so hoarse I can barely talk.
I'm also listening to my Beatles on loop.

"What's your deal with the Beatles?"
"My deal? You mean the WORLD'S!"

I leave you to be amazed by the quality of this cinematic trailer:

I still haven't managed to find the balance of many hours spent at Uni and Life (Online and IRL).

I'll find the time to update.

Because I'm reading quite a few new blogs which I want to talk about, but feh, time! I need to sleep as well you know.

Lots of stuff has been happening, and yes I know it's not nice to tease, but I can't write about in this post... I may write about it later I may not, because I'll forget. Yeah, I'm that scattered at the mo'.

Tomorrow I have a class at 8:30, which means getting up at 6:00 am at the very latest, gah I hate when my regular mode of public transport is not working (the trains are under repair - woe!).

Hopefully I'll be able to blog about my life, my university and everything else (i.e. The News as it relates to me, you and all of Us).

G'night friends, readers and fellow busy people trying to balance life and 42 other things.

I'll be in my jimjams saving the world thanks.

Wow, I'm tired if I'm making Hitchhiker... and Doctor Who referencing the Hitchhiker... references... what am I doing here?!

Things I grew tired of hearing a long time ago:

#01 "You're aggressive" - You make me want to rip out your rib cage and wear it like a hat (h/t Spike/Willian the Bloody terrible poet, he was a brilliant word-smith...).

#02 "You're provocative" - I make you uncomfortable, not my problem!

#03 Rape apologia - Even if a woman (or man) is walking around, naked, with a placard stating in neon "Will Fuck Anyone!", no one has the right to violate his/her/hir body. Ever. Rape is a crime, stop punishing and blaming the victims.

#04 The term "self-hating Jew" - the next time I hear this term I'm calling on that person and saying they are an "Antisemitic shit-bag". Jewish self-hatred assumes some kind of essential Jewish trait that us (yeah, I'm one of those people) self-haters reject because we're just that disgusting.
Antisemitic Shit-Baggery!

#05 "You've lost weight, you look great!" - I know I've lost weight. I know I comply with the fashionable female body type. I'd appreciate it if no one comments about my body, it's fucking irritating, I'm not livestock to be commented upon, my my rump, ribs and tits are not in public for your consumption! Unless you've been given permission to do so (you know who you are), do stop!

#06 "You look much better now that your hair in longer. The shaved head didn't look good on you".
DIAF.

#07 "Is this another feminist thing?" - Yeah it is, and you're gonna listen to me annoy the fucking hell out of you!

#08 "You're so sensitive" - Yeah, this is me crying over your dead body.

#09 "You're so loud, why do you have to shout everything. It's all about how you say things you know" - Yeah I do know, I also know a big STFU when I see one. Stop trying to control my fucking tone!

And #10 "Why do you care so much?" - because the world is an ugly, cynical and corrupted blemish in this universe. We have to live on it, it may as well be with a modicum of empathy and dignity.

Those are the Top 10 things this week that made me go *rawr*, *arrgh*, swear under my breath, glare, lose my temper and want to throw things at people's faces.

I cannot wait for the semester to start (which it does this Sunday).

Tell me friends, readers and maybe lurkers, what grinds your gears?

The Yanks are having a Gay Ole' Time!

Sorry, I couldn't resist.
The Interwebs are very US centric, so I know that the 11th of October is National Coming Out Day and that during Obama's address at the Equality March he promised to revoke Don't Ask, Don't Tell.
He didn't specify when, but meh.

I also read a post that resonated in me so much, my eyes stung up as I read it, you should read it too.

Coming out never ends.
You have to do it over and over and over again.

When I came out to my mother I was 15 and she said "Why don't you try the Hetero way, first" and "Don't tell your father".
I didn't tell my dad until I was 20 and he said "Are you in a relationship with a woman?", I wasn't at the time, "Then why are you telling me this now?".

I don't mean to vilify my parents, but this is such an ordinary reaction it's hardly worth mentioning. Because it doesn't matter that I'm Bi and am thus "gay" whoever I'm with, it only matters when the genitalia of the person I'm fucking is the same as mine.
Then, "I'm making my life more difficult".
As I am responsible for the homophobic reactions I'm forced to endure and yeah, those small insignificant questions are "homophobic" and yeah, I will call you on them.
Hiding behind conservatism, or old-fashioned views, or that a double standard is okay because it's social.

I don't mention my siblings, because they're awesome; despite the fact that one of them thought I said I was queer because I was looking for attention (*grrr*), despite the fact that one of them tried to excuse the police assaulting us at Jerusalem Pride, despite the fact that one of them challenged the oppression of queer identity by comparing it a different one.

I don't mean to vilify them either.

My family, I love them dearly and they love me.

But the assumption, assertion and aggressively enforced enables people, no matter who they are, to doubt my identity and this, of course, holds true for the Queer community as well.
This requires that I assert, "advertise" and repeat "I'm gay/queer/bi/the-label-that-fits-best-at-this-time-and-place".

When I was in the IDF, I was out during my training and more than anything, to the group of about 20 young women that lived together for nearly four months, I was a curiosity at first, but because none of us was fucking while we were on base sex was spoken about as something we miss and not something we do.
At my permanent unit I was not out, except to the Lunch Club, which could have been dubbed the "Bunch of Queers having a two-hour Lunch Club".
It was nice.
But none of us were out in our units.
No doubt, everybody knew.
No confession was made. no questions were asked. That was fine, but until actually spoken about, it is assumed that you are straight.
Even if you are the Dykiest Dyke, The Faggiest Fag and the Omniest Bi.

And it sucks. It forces you to be, for large portions of your life,dishonest by default and purposefully.
"It's provocative having two women together at a wedding".
"Do not introduce her as your girlfriend".
So we didn't slow dance, and you'd have to be pretty slow not to figure it (that we're together) out.

To be "out" is to be provocative.
It's a luxury I felt acutely this year, the freedom of it in certain arenas, it's utter deprivation in others.
That my life.

That's all our lives.

I got back not to long ago from the Hospital.

I went there by train to give her some essentials/creature comforts for the night in the ward.

My sister and her passenger are doing well, she's not hurt and the fetus was quite feisty, moving away from the monitor, making the read out patchy, but the heart beat was continuous and strong.

Thank you all who commented, sent me a pm, sent me an e-mail, called or otherwise contacted me with your thoughts and well wishes, very kind and made me feel a little less stressed.

I still am though. I had a small sandwich and some Oreos and feel quite full, so I'm sipping on my comfort drink (guess) and am feeling the burn of that take over the burn of stomach acids induced by stress.

Perhaps I'll have some actual thoughts and an opinion on something topical (politics, fandom, whatev) later on.

Thanks again, peeps.

I was rudely awoken by my mother informing me that a truck went into my sister's car this morning on her way to work.
My sister is seven moths pregnant.

Currently, she is in Hospital and is being monitored, is staying over night and appears to be okay. I doubt I will go see her, because my Mother is there at the moment and there is no rational reason for me to go visit my sister while she's hooked up to machines and holding her belly.

I only felt the baby move for the first time on Saturday and that was only because my sister was wearing a tight shirt and I could see the tiny, tiny feet move around and stretch the skin and shirt.

That was awesome.

What isn't awesome is my sister being even more stressed out and now traumatised, because a person driving a huge truck either lost control of the vehicle, or didn't notice the other cars around the truck, or was driving in a lane in which large trucks should not be driving, or the person driving the truck (like many truck drivers in this country) has so many penalty points on their license that they just don't give a shit how they drive and thus don't care about the other drivers on the road.

And yes I am putting the blame on the truck because those are big-ass vehicles and the people driving them need to be extra vigilant about how they drive because they put smaller cars (like my sister's Ford Focus!) in danger!

What I'd really like to do is find out who the truck driver is, slash the tiers of his (for there is no doubt that he is male as most truck drivers are) personal vehicle, cut up his driver's license and kick him in the stomach repeatedly.
And then take a bat and smash up his car some more.

Would that be an over-reaction?

I will not be fasting this year.

I'll be going to Koll Nidrei, as I do every year. But I won't be fasting.
It took me a long time to figure out why, as a non-believer, as someone who would more often than nor buck tradition than follow it (or at the very least, update it to fit the times and my personal philosophy), I'd felt the need to fast in previous years.

Nostalgia.

Pure and simple, nostalgia.

I go to hear and sing along with everyone Koll Nidrei, because it moves me, I feel the water in my body vibrate along with the congregation that repeats, repeats, repeats the Hazan (Cantor) as he sings and dirges the words of the Book.

I don't think I need to deny myself anything in order to make visible the repentance (that I don't feel).
I have no soul that needs purification.

I've been losing weight and that's been weighing on my mind. I hate that as I get thinner I think more about how fattening things are and I've not even been trying to lose weight.
I was happy where I was.
It's been a tough week, month, year.
It would have caught up with me I suppose.
If I don't see myself fattening up after the Holidays and during Uni I'll go see if there's an actual problem with me.
I am looking pale.
Because I'm tired; I've not caught up on the sleep I've lost over the past couple of days.

I will not be fasting.
With any luck I'll make myself a cup of coffee at a friends house this evening after prayers and catch up on True Blood tomorrow... maybe I'll watch an ep or two of Torchwood.
Or Life on Mars.

Definitely listen to Leonard Cohen... my lovely man.

As promised, more on The Man and the amazing concert last night.

First of all, the getting there. It was very much encouraged that people use public transportation because, well, parking would have been an issue.
The doors to Ramat-Gan stadium (where the concert was performed) opened at half-past five pm, I wanted to be there by at least quarter to seven or seven, since the concert was scheduled to start at quarter to eight.

Suffice to say, that is not what happened. ( Read some more on how we finally arrived to the stadium )
We walked into the stadium at twenty to eight, I hugged Tami and her folks (she was the genius who managed to actually get us tickets the night sales went live, damned lucky as this concert was sold out in a few hours), we found our seats, had two minutes to relax before the lights went out, the stage lights went on and there he was.

The Man and his Hat (Tami was taking pictures the whole time, I hope I get to show them to you).

What a charming stage persona he has, he was skipping! He said it was a honour to be here and that he was dedicating the concert to Bereaved Families for Peace as per my previous post, which got me crying, it was a very clever and non-confrontational way of bringing in the "issue" I suppose. I'm glad he mentioned it at least and didn't ignore the contention of him performing in Israel, because it is a big deal and Cohen is a very big name.

He then began to sing.

Being the dork that I am, I wanted to write down the songs; I always carry a pen, but alas I did not have a notepad so I quickly rummaged around and found a post card - it was this post card, so there was plenty room to write on both sides.
Oh! Before I forget! On the big screens which broadcast his performance, there were Hebrew subtitles to almost all of the songs, because lots of Israeli artists just wanted to be able to sing him in Hebrew so over the years there have been lots of translations.
Having the subtitles was just too great no to mention.

( The Song List with some of my reactions to them )

And then he sang the Passage from the book of Ruth: "Wherever you go..." which was amazing and then he gave another prayer in Hebrew. Amazing to hear that old fashioned Ashkenazi accent, as modern Hebrew accent is Sephardic... I was all very emotional, as is evident by the amount of tears I shed.

Cohen is probably one of the more evocative poets and singers of our time. I can honestly say that he's one of the artists that when I heard for the first time clutched my heart and pulled out my lungs. And it really was So Long, Marianne, because it was the first song of his that I listened to.

It was an amazing night and getting back home was far less dramatic than getting there. My dad I were gushing the whole way and it really was one of the best evenings of my life.

I love Leonard Cohen even more than I did. His gravely and deep voice is the kind of voice I always imagine myself having when I speak about something I'm passionate about, but it's so far from the voice I actually have which is more often than not high and strident... I can never modulate it to the depth that I want.

One other thing, Leonard Cohen has a grand, beautiful and very sharp aquiline nose (I have a nose fetish, really, I'm not kidding) and he's a seriously good looking (to me) man.
I think my dad kind of looks like him.
Yeah, I think my dad is handsome.
I think youngest daughters are supposed to think that, no?

I hope I managed to convey here what a powerful evening it was. That weird and awesome feeling of being intimate with thousands of other people.

I think I need another cup of coffee.

These many thought came about because of my slowly becoming more involved in fandom, developing ideas of my own for writing fan fiction, talking to other fans about these issues and real life events paralleling fandom events too closely in my mind.

About a year ago I wrote a post about why I'm obsessing with Torchwood.

Now I have some new thoughts.

But I think I need to write a little something that will further contextualize what I'm writing.

( A Bit About Buffy, because it's important )

Buffy and I parted ways a few years ago. It's still the best show to ever be on television; writing wise, thematically and just plain awesomeness. I have seven academic books about Buffy.

It changed my life, I'll always be grateful².

All that was a long way of saying, I take my entertainment seriously. Not only that, it takes me seriously as well.

Torchwood changed my life as well, in a vastly different way.

Not too long ago I wrote: I love Torchwood and generally speaking, Torchwood loves me..

It's obvious to me, but I suppose I should disclaim, that I'm well aware that the people on Torchwood , just like every other show, movie and book that I read, are fictional, I will not be able to go to Wales and meet any of them.
And despite a phenomenon like this, they are not real.

Except, that they are.

( Introspective Personal Thought On Texts That I Love )

When it comes down to it, the past year was hard and I really cannot imagine how I would have gotten through it were it not for my girlfriend and Torchwood (it helps that she enjoys the show as well). I had to deal with a real world that didn't go exactly like I expected.

Wake up call.

As most of you know, during July I was still pretty shook up over what happened in Torchwood: Children of Earth, you just need to browse back to see how deeply affected I was. I don't know how my GF stood me. I don't know how anyone stood me.
Then in August the real life tragedy of a Hate Crime against queer youth struck and I was shook up again.
Living in the country that I do exposes me to violence on a scale that at times is just too much.

I felt so disgusted with myself that I took the death of Ianto Jones as hard as I did.

It's gratifying knowing that I'm not alone. That I am validated and can validate others in their love of text and how it affects them.
How we affect it.

I think I'm going to be writing fic very soon.

( Notes )

I didn't write about the big rally that was orchestrated last Saturday night (the 8th) because frankly by then, I was pretty much wiped out.
Also, it pissed me off and I was very disappointed by it.

I had vented a hell of a lot, cried some more and as is evident by the frivolous entries of the past week, I just didn't have any more to write.

The repercussions of the shooting are still felt, though it is now old News and due to other strings of murder being reported and investigated with about as much gusto as a Lion pride at midday in the bloody savannah, the fact that no suspect has yet to have been found is not even worth an update.

Not that I'm surprised.

The shooting itself shocked me, but I wasn't terribly surprised. My society is violent and filled with strife. Not to mention that the mainstream media and mind-set refuses to see any correlation between the Occupation, the virulent racism and xenophobia of our social structures and the hatred of anything gender non-conforming (which is a large umbrella under which misogyny, homophobia, transphobia, biphobia etc all fall).

The rally, as mentioned, was a disappointment for me. The only worth while speakers were one of the wounded kids who was just heart breaking and couldn't stop sobbing and a few other people of note from the more grass-roots queer movements.

One of the things that really annoyed me, was the exclusion of former Memeber of Knesset Issam Machool (of Hadash - Al'Jabha), who wanted to speak out against the homophobia in the Palestinian communities and how it's compounded by the harsh racism of current Israeli policies.

This was deemed too "political".
Same with a representative from Aswat - Palestinian Lesbian Group based in Haifa.

It pisses me off.
Royally.

In the blog post Palestinian Gays under the Hijab, Nisreen Mazzawi writes:

While in the world the legend of the democratic country of the middle east keep announce its jingles regard its tolerant city Tel Aviv that provide a shelter of the Palestinian gays running from their society and families, The Palestinian gay community and supporters are excluded on purpose from public events specifically from the solidarity anti homophobic demonstration held yesterday in Rabin Square.
[...]
For the Palestinian gays who live and struggle for their lives under the occupation, Tel Aviv is not an alternative or a safe shelter, the few who succeed to do their way to Tel Aviv end up living and working in the streets, not once they are victims of the Israeli propaganda that use their cases to promote this image.
[...]
While we believe homophobia is equal to racism and hate is equal to hate and murder is equal to murder, the majority of the Israeli gay community choose not to see the link and to ignore other kinds of violence abundant in the Israeli society.

I recommend the whole post, it's very informative and just gives you a broader picture of the intersection of different destructive oppressions in Israel and Palestine.

If you recall, in the weeks before and during Pride month I wrote about the campaign of using LGBT Israeli culture to promote the image Israel as a "pluralistic, democratic and tolerant" nation.

Israel may not be the most horrendous place for queers, but the saturation of violence along with the Occupation colouring every facet of life whether we like it or not. That of course, in turn, colours the entire social conception of what is "acceptable" and "not acceptable", what's "In" and what's "out".

I've never really felt "In", whether it was being generally a little eccentric, outspoken, visibly queer or just not having my politics (whether during my apathy years or later/now) mesh with what is considered worthy opinions, the past two weeks very much struck me as a kind of final straw, which I've possibly mentioned before.
Compounded with crap that [Southern!Girl] and I had to deal with this year on account of our relationship which I won't get into right now... I feel as though this place just isn't it any more.

I don't know what's going to happen. I never did, but this opened my eyes a little wider.

Today I came out to my hair dresser, who has been cutting my hair for seven years.

It had never come up, because I had never spoken to her about anyone I had been dating, I'd vent about my mom, we'd talk about my hair... sexuality was not the top of the agenda.

Her exclamation of surprise: "You're gay?!" irked me a bit, but that passed and now I can process why that is.

Obviously the whole discussion came up because I went to get a hair cut in order to somehow make a change in myself and somehow deal with the tragedy of my community.

I mentioned that that was one of the reasons I needed a hair cut.

"You were there?" she asked anxiously.
"No," I replied "but it was an attack on my community"
"You're gay?!" she exclaimed.
Feeling far too worn out to start the whole gay vs. bi thing I simply said "Yeah".
"Well hello!"

The next half an hour was filled with me talking, venting and pretty much being pissed off, but nicely.

What irked me, is the constant assumption of heterosexuality. I'm not blaming my hair dresser or anything, this is the way society is constructed. The assumption is that most people are straight, so how are we supposed to know who is not until they say so.

And along with the assumption of heterosexuality, come the stigma of queer.
I've now veered away from my hair dresser (my hair looks great, just my the way).
Through out the past few days, I've been reading articles upon articles telling me that the police have no clue as to where the gunman is.
People raising hypothesis that this was a vendetta by a spurned lover, that it was a self-hating queer person who was rejected from the youth group (what?!) and of course that the LGBT community are falsely accusing the Orthodox community and spreading the hate.

I have had it up to *here*, I swear.
My dad asked me about that "lead" the police had regarding the spurned lover and at the vigil I attended yesterday someone glibly said that if it the killer wasn't hate motivated then it would feel really empty.
I opened my mouth on both that person and my dad:

#1 How can one even try and justify murder in that way, because that's what it is. Trying to find an "excuse" as to why a killer decided to kill.

#2 It's derailment of the issue. This is a hate crime. Homophobia is a prejudice that goes on without censure. It is transparent, it is jokes and violence committed because of it goes under reported more often than not.

#3 The degradation and defamation of LGBT people is ongoing. The reason we had no "build up" for this tragedy is because we are under constant attack. All the time. Every day. Every where. And no, I'm not exaggerating.

And finally #4 Whoever this person was, he didn't just go after one person, or a specific individual. The man carried an Uzi. That mass destruction and multiple shots in rapid succession.

Coming out to my hair dresser (see what I did there) was my choice. Those kids lying in the hospital were Outed in a way that will leave them scarred forever, beyond the physical and emotional trauma of being the victims of a shooting attack because some of the families have rejected them.

We've been told to not be afraid.

I can't help but seethe in the dark and I am afraid.

That ended up being much more dramatic than I intended..

You may find it tedious, or boring, or even just plain irritating that I'm blogging about the same thing over and over again and basically repeating myself.

Obviously this is something that needs processing and information needs to be disseminated.

As I said in my previous post, I did not know the deceased, but I know people who did, because that's how small our world is.

Those kids, one of whom is in critical condition, all of whom are still in hospital as far as I'm aware, will never be the same again.
Nor will any of us, I'm afraid.
Some of those kids do not have a home to go to because they were outed and their parents and family do not want their children to be "that way".
Can they be cured?
As though the way your body, mind and heart reacts to people is some kind of horrible disfigurement of the soul.
If we even have one.

The reason I keep writing about this (and will probably write more about tomorrow) is because I am in the belief that silence is violence.
That the police do not have the beginning of a clue as to the whereabouts of the murderer and that unless he wants to be found, he will not be found.
Call me cynical, but it's been a while since I've trusted the police with anything that actually amounts to securing me and the people I know.

As for "incitement against the religious", I'll let you read the writing on the wall again.

Thoughts? Questions? Opinions?

Footage from last night's impromptu demo in Tel-Aviv following the attack (includes English subtitles):



Now back to work.

I think I may be able to write coherently about what happened.

First of all, thanks you everyone who commented on my previous post, sent me an sms, an email, a phone call, all that.

I was safe and snug at home away from Tel-Aviv.

I didn't go to the impromptu Pride March that took place in the vicinity, nor will I be able to go to any vigil today (possibly tomorrow). I am going to go to the big demo that's going to happen in Rabin Square on Tuesday.

The number of injured rose to 15, at least 7 of them went into surgery during the night. Almost all the injured are minors (i.e. under the age of 18).
The death toll remains two, though over the night there were reports that a third had died but that turned out to be a mistake.
The murder victims are a 16 year old woman/girl and a 26 year old boy/man.

The girl (and all the other minors) went to this little underground floor which for nearly 20 years has acted as the headquarters of the LGBT Rights Association, colloquially known as The Aguda. The place has acted as a place of gathering for various queer groups, including this youth support group. There was no security guard, because this place for more than a decade, has been considered a "safe space" smack in the middle of Midtown Tel Aviv.
Talk about Queer central.

That dead man/boy acted as a councillor to these kids, many of them (if not most) closeted. This was where they came to be themselves, to vent, to get support, to be with others who are like them.
Like us.

During the months leading up to Pride (Fuck, just a month ago!) and during June Pride month, I wrote a bit about various homophobic incidences that happened over the country and one of them was a "random" would-be gay bashing in Tel Aviv, simply because two guys were kissing in the street.

There can really be no doubt that this was anything other than a homophobia motivated attack. Anyone trying to think of alternative scenarios is fooling themselves, or trying to. That little corner in the middle of the alley streets of central Tel Aviv was a known venue. Even if the little piece of shit didn't know it was going to be Teens and Young Adults there last night, the shooter knew damn well that there were going to be queer people there.

The recent entry written at the Israel Left blogging website begins like this:

Something happened in Tel-Aviv tonight, a milestone in the delicate relationship between minority and majority, left and right, and whatever other classifications you may wish to use here.

Honestly, I do not think so.
This is perhaps that most violent incident in scale, and it is overwhelming when an incident like this happens in the supposed cosmopolitan metropolis of "the only Democracy in the Middle East", however, we do not know how many queers do not report incidences of violence against them all year 'round. The statistics of this are very, very iffy. Queer people exist in every single intersecting demography. A large portion of them are closeted.
Just like these kids.

I think it is incredibly naive to believe that this is a milestone in anything. This is a flare of a disease, an acute symptom of a social disfigurement. The violence in which it was committed is alarming and may indicate that the pressure in the melting pot is reaching critical, but homophobia has been and is alive and kicking and only the incredibly clueless would thing otherwise, yes, even in liberal Tel Aviv.

Just last week [Southern!Girl] and I went to a Butch/Femme event, she was the Butch and I was the Femme and it was such a clear dyke event, that just walking in the street we both felt exposed but at the event itself in the Rogatka bar it felt so incredibly safe and good and fucking fun.
I did mention that if we were a little bit more on the South end of Tel Aviv I don't know how safe I would have felt walking down the street in my fancy dress and her in a fancy suit.

That centre is just a few kilometres South-West of where were.

I'm feeling kind of queasy.

The police's response to this was to close down the other LGBT clubs and meeting spaces because the gunman is still at large.
Seriously?
That's your immediate answer? To try and police our movements even more, especially when Queers are fucking everywhere in Tel Aviv and the majority are really not going to be "hanging out" at the community gathering centres unless there is an event.
And that's the point.
We go to the same cafe's as straight people, the same movie theatres, the same bloody streets okay!
This attack was deliberate and for our safety you're telling us you're closing down our other (what we believed) were safe spaces.

Last night I was in shock. Today I'm fucking pissed.
You can follow my Twitter which I used last night to disseminate information.

The Tel-Aviv Headquarters of the LGBT Association was attacked about an hour ago by a man in black who came in began shooting.

2 dead.

12 wounded.

I'm shocked.

I cannot even... comprehend...

This place acts as a club and tonight there was a gathering of young people.

The shooter fled and is still at large.

I'm feeling sick.

I don't how there can be any doubt of this homophobia motivated killing spree.

Fuck me.

I'm at home and I can't... fuck.

Edited to add an initial report: http://www.ynetnews.com/articles/0,7340,L-3755400,00.html

Remember how yesterday I wrote how Pride went without incidence?

Well, if you read the comments, you'll see that it wasn't 100% without incident.

The night after the march there were parties over the city, including a Dress-Up Gender Blender. Four friends left the club, a bunch of thugs caught sight of them and didn't seem to be able to handle the fact that Transpeople and Lesbians were walking around unashamed.

They began to curse and swear at the Transwoman - shall remain nameless as I do not have her permission to put her name here - who tried to reason with them; they demanded that she "fight like a man".
Her friends came to help, and they were beaten up as well.

A bystander came to their help and got them across the street.

At this time no one is placing any charges with the police. Even if they did, it would be unlikely that any good would come of it.

The Transwoman told a friend of hers that this sort of thing is practically a daily occurrence. That this is nothing special.
I cannot begin to imagine living like that. To be targeted because you do not fit an inmage is a person's mind.
Because the idea of gender variance is such a danger to the patriarchal frame in which we live and so few actually question.

The frisking was far more malicious than I first thought. I heard they were very touchy feely with Transpeople, Butch Dykes and people who came cross-dressed.

I got off lightly. As is generally the case.

I'm so pissed off I am barely coherent.

When I spoke about to my sister, regarding the body search, she said it was to cover their asses. There is covering ones ass and there is assault - and yes, as was commented - that kind of groping and humiliation is assault.
But it is soft and for "our own safety", no one who was there to protect us would ever consider us fair game for some identity policing: "It may be fine for you to march, but your right to exist as human beings is still questioned".

I think that because [Southern!Girl] is the first girl I've dated long enough to introduce to the family as my GF and to be public about it without too many closet issues, it has really brought home all the issues I don't think I've ever had to deal with before.
I've been secure in my Bi identity for years, dating men, however, did make me blind to the politics of such an identity - and only when I began to be Queer - which happened after I was discharged from the IDF - did I also become more politically aware in general.

Getting back to my point.

I remember being asked; what is so special about being gay*?

*The mainstream umbrella term for anyone who is not straight. There is a bit of an issue getting LGBT into mainstream discourse... let's not even talk about the word Queer - that's a whole can of worms.

The assumption of heterosexuality is so strong and so destructive. Not only that, the assumption of what is the right kind of heterosexual, what is normative, creates categories so rigid and so suffocating that people literally die from it.

Homo-les-bi-transphobia is not just the violence that those people had to endure as I wrote above.
It is the double standard placed upon such an identity. The policing of when such an identity is approved of (only inside away from the public).

I was told that being Out as a Mother can also cause problems in the workplace.
Sexism is indeed a problem.
The Mother identity is very much a problematic one for women.
However, being a mother makes you automatically accepted as a (re)producer in society. Being a mother is not an illegitimate identity as an identity - the problem is with public expectations from Mothers.

Gay identity is perceived as a threat to the building blocks of society, because it automatically rejects the heteronormative roles forced upon us from fetushood.

Even by becoming parents, which in Israel helps a lot - because a child is a blessing in breeding centric society like mine - who you are still under threat: "you're a real woman now" to a woman, who may very well be in the middle of transitioning to a man.
Not to mention that the assumption still remains hetero, there must be a father somewhere and there must be a mother somewhere.
And of course... there must be Female Mothers and Male Fathers.

My point.
The point it.
There are places in which we can walk without fear, but only a small percentage of us. We are still stated at, gawked at, whispered about, "who is the man? who is the woman", "you just need a Real Man", "Are you sure?", "It's just a phase", "Must you advertise your sexuality".

All that. It's got to go. Not in a while. Not in a generation maybe two. Pronto.

My feet are killing me.

Pride was huge amounts of fun, met awesome people and quite a few of my very awesome friends.
The heat was oppressive and I slathered on sun-screening lotion quite a few times while I was out there.
My nose and cheeks still turned rosy.

The booths and organization stalls were great fun to wonder around.

[Southern!Girl] and I marched at first with the Bi-Trans-BDSM-Femme bloc, but ended up speeding up towards the floats and then ended up passing the Dykes on Bikes - who always pave the way, of course.

Pictured were taken and hopefully I'll be able to get some here.

I ended up snogging [Southern!Girl] as we walked and we were photographed then as well, we burst into laughter as did the photographer, 'cause we're just not used to kissing being a photo worthy thing.

My friend K and his Boyfriend came dressed up as Sex-Kittens.

Everyone looked great and I had tons of fun!

Not much else... ask me! :D