M Database Inspector (cheetah)
|Not logged in. Login|
|jaccuse - 36 Rows|
|Thu, Jun 21 2007||100||Night Of January the 23rd||
Paranoia can save one's life,
and I can say this from a very precise single experience.
A paranoid hunch had better be followed,
even if it is absolutely false in its paranoid delusionary predictions.
Following the events of Black October of 2005,
I have decided that for sure the next legal
attempt on my life must sometime in the future again occur.
It will occur, so I decided, in the form of a policeman
knocking on my door in the middle of the night.
Regardless of what he was told to look for,
he is likely to find some traces of illegal
drugs in my apartment, and arrest me.
My deer family will take it from there,
if they ever find out.
If this visit was cooked by the family,
then they will surely find out sooner rather than later.
Without self sovereignty in such a position,
I am as good as dead.
At two AM he knocked on my door, demanding that I open it.
His voice was very violent.
I asked what it was all about and he at first said he will not tell.
Later he said,
there is something criminal happening in my apartment
which he can not disclose,
and he will break in if I do not open the door.
He followed to say that the law demands that I open
the door at his command as he is a policemen.
I told him I will call the police to see if he is at all a policeman.
Please do, he said.
I then started towards my first attempt at a Marijuana plant,
and started trashing it,
trembling with fear,
with caution not to use the toilet,
as he could hear me,
and try immediately to break in like he promised.
Little did I know at the time,
that cops aren't really allowed to do that,
even if they operate under
emergency no-court-order-needed event,
which to his knowledge, he was.
And so I dragged him with bla-blas for about four
hours as I was washing the entire apartment floor
with concentrated bleach,
to have the fumes combat the smell of TLC in the air,
when they do break in eventually.
They - because by then there were eight policemen with two cars,
a social worker who at first stayed in the first car,
a fire truck,
and some heavy duty break in equipment attached to my door.
This merry group by now was having a pizza and cigarettes
party outside my door,
while I keep fearing Anna Frank would not envy me.
So I let them in.
The police chief, by then long there, took a five second
look at the guitars and the disassembled piano by the door,
which I took apart so that I can prevent the fire department's
heavy duty break-in equipment from
any success without having completely destroyed a Piano
He then quickly apologized and had all the entourage leave
in another ten seconds.
During those ten seconds,
I dared ask one of the juniors what this was all about.
They received a complaint that a three year old child is crying,
and were instructed to kidnap this infant from its abusive father.
In later research I found this was a shear coincidence,
and that the events of 2005,
which have saved my life then, and again in 2007,
had nothing to do with each other.
The whole story was a simple mistake.
A neighbor was crying for weeks with the voice of an infant.
Yet another paranoid neighbor, a holocaust victim like me -
made the false report without ill-intentions.
The police just did some poor work.
During those four hours I insistent I will not disclose
my name, saying if I do they will write it down,
and as things stand, they are not after me at all,
and are re-proving it by calling me by a made up name
they read off the door bell.
Yet the police is employed by the city,
where I am listed as an honest tax paying resident,
with this address.
They could have made one phone call and would
never have to arrive in the first place.
They were so unconvincing in their presentation
and lies regarding legal issues, that even after I saw two police cars
and many uniforms, I still insisted that I want
to see more cops and TV,
to convince me this is not some ploy
of a group of policemen,
not truly acting on behalf of the police.
Oddly, the fire truck was so big in this small street,
the torrent nearly hit my porch by mistake.
If it were manned, the person would already almost
be inside my apartment, having fallen off the truck.
A friend had reminded me it takes two seconds
to get into the apartment through the terrace.
All you have to do is stop being official for a few seconds.
For Netanya policemen, this was a bit too tough.
|Sun, Oct 02 2005||100||Get Back||
Sunday morning, on Disengof street,
outside the pharmacy.
Standing there with Boaz,
we had just convinced my pharmacist
that a fax from Roney with the prescription
and later physical delivery is OK under the circumstances.
Tally calls in panic.
Having marked her off for having fed Roney with
slanted incriminating information,
it was surprising that she called me just then.
She was supposed to have been furious
and on the enemy side.
"Ariel interrogated me about
who has signature rights at your bank account,
and is now calling friends at the bank to find out,
after I told him nobody does.
I tell Boaz.
"He is cutting your means of supply. A classic war tactic."
So he is still at war,
I'd better relax out of my self centered concentration,
start thinking about myself instead,
and raise up my fists.
I am busy conversing with Boaz about the Amsterdam
Joker I can pull somehow probably,
when opportunity knocks in the form of
Yael calling from New York.
Boaz has been my phone shield,
mostly from Ariel, since Friday.
He is already in possession of the phone and he picks
up the call.
"Its Yael", he says,
"she would like to talk you, will you accept the call?"
He doesn't have to use nearly as many words to say this.
"Yael" and the rest is body language.
My victorious smile of joy and the hand-it-over-right-away
hand gesture makes him cautiously yank the phone
backwards for a second, reflecting on the implications
of what he already knows the subject content of my
upcoming monolog with Yael will be.
In the end of a long second or two he makes a
and hands over the cell phone.
I start off screaming, not even waiting for the polite
reciprocal hellos to go by:
"Ariel F's only at the Red Light District
When was the last time you F'ed with him?"
"Forget him for now"
"Ariel F's only at the red lights district in Amsterdam.
When was the last time you F'ed with him?"
"I want to talk about you, not him, can we do that?"
"OK, Me, I, have a brother who F's only
at the red lights district in Amsterdam.
When was the last time you F'ed with him?"
She hung up the phone.
Calmly, I turn to Boaz:
"I bet you not 5 minutes will pass before someone
calls and lets me know Ariel is on his way to New York."
He made a you-call-this-a-bet face and smiled.
It took less then one minute for Ariel to call.
The caring, loving brother,
who flew across the ocean to help,
has other immediate problems at home,
so help is no longer a priority.
(Vikki will report in a few weeks time that Ariel's
next appearance in The Netherlands
is personally greeted by him at the airport,
from where he would drive him down to Heerlen straight away,
without making a stop in Amsterdam.
He went into great length squeezing into the conversation
the minute details of an event as yet to happen) .
Didn't you once belong in some U.S. city?
Have fun in New Amsterdam!
|Mon, Oct 02 2006||100||Shana Tova||
Thank you kindly for the the gift of
1000 NIS for Rosh Ha Shana.
May I remind you in this context that the last time
you were not living off of your parents' money
was when you had a job at Yachin
as a secretary when you were about half my age.
I am happy to hear that your elder son is beginning
to notice you now that he is so close to arriving
at your money.
This is quite gentle as compared to jumping on an airplane
at the sight of the chance to harm his younger brother to
achieve the same goal.
|Wed, Nov 23 2005||100||Orith||
To Orith, if you happen to be reading this:
There was no other way I could think of at the time.
[Times are Verona time - 02:36 in Verona is 1:36 in Tel Aviv]
I'm not sure but it seems to me that it's been a long time since we've
chat, isn't it?
Would you like to do so?
Absolutely. Where are you?
in Italy, Verona for the last 2 years!
have a number?
where are you?
What are you doing with your life now?
Tell me a little bit, please.
I live alone in an ap-artment in Tel Aviv
what kind of internel hour does your computer have?
when did you come back to IsraÃƒÆ’Ã‚Â«Ãƒâ€šÃ‚Â¬Ãƒâ€šÃ‚Â¿
Besides "surviving" which doesn't mean being happy, are you ok?
it is now 4:45 pm according to my computer,
it is is now 3:45 in Israel, where I am at for about 7 years now
I am OK.
"where I am at for about 7 years now" ?????????????????????????????????
got it! I become slow !
do you work for yourself as a freelance or in a compagny?
How come you came back to IsraÃƒÆ’Ã‚Â«Ãƒâ€šÃ‚Â¬Ãƒâ€šÃ‚Â¿
I work freelance on and off the Internet.
I came back to IL after a crisis while in the US that made me decide I want to live here.
You're quit laconic : just answering the questions without details or whatever.
It's rather difficult to communicate like that.
try to re-read from the beginning of our conversation today.
The answers are all there.
If it doesn't help, see if this one does:
Elohim, Rak Shmor Otti Me Ohavai, U-mi-son-ai E-sha-mer be-atzmi.
I still love you, you know.
I didn't say you do not answer;
but I have to ask all the time questions to have details on you.
I suppose it would be easier if you just tell your story without waiting for questions.
You know I'm not complicated and as time passes I look for less complicated stuff.
Have you become a believer (maamine ) ?
And I do not want you any harm and if you believe that I am a danger for you let us quit now.
P.S. Mayby you still love the memory of me but certainely not me
for you don't really know me today.
I do not believe in God, nor is this line from the bible. it is from a song.
In my last e-mail I said I might be a danger to you,
and that I don't think you know that, and you should beware.
I am sorry my metaphors escaped you.
I believe you might also be a danger to me,
but given this last one maybe it is better for me not to try and find out.
I gave you a phone number and asked for yours.
You do not really want to talk to me,
and I have no intention of giving you reports about my life in any other way.
20051123-07.07.me.txt [in reply to the P.S. above]
And if you can guarantee this than why do we bother talking?
Listen I don't understand much from what you're trying to say!!!
Why are you so complicated?
I don't think it's good to talk for the time being;
I prefer - as I always did - writing because writing and reading are nice :
word just flee but what is written stays with you . I'm sorry for my English ,
I've forgot a lot of it. I would be better in french or even italian...
Let's make things clear : I would like to communicate with you,
news from you...to take and give like I do with all my good and dearest friends.
Why on earth would you be harmfull to me or I to you?
Lets not be too clear then.
I do not want to pursue this relationship.
I sincerely regret your decision. But it has always been like that : I
try to reach you and you turn away from me. What a pity.
you did ask me to burn all the proof to the contrary.
I'm stubborn : when I don't understand I ask clarifications until I understand.
Why don't you accept my friendship simply as it is?
Why is it so complicated from the very first lines?
I will try to think of the answers to these questions.
I'll get back to you.
and here they come:
You are stupid for not knowing to stay away from those who call you stupid in your face.
[She did. My next e-mail a few minutes later returned with:
"No such user"]