My grandmother was murdered in Stuthoff. Her daughters tried to cover for her when she couldn’t do the work she was assigned, but they took her away anyway, and she never left the infirmary.
Today the last employee they will probably ever catch was convicted. She was only a camp secretary and probably couldn’t have done anything about saving my grandmother, but I still hold her responsible.
This is the last night – If Bibi doesn’t get this government signed and sealed tonight by tomorrow, the responsibility of setting up a government, the duty goes to another leader. But he’ll do it – or maybe the president will grant him another extension.
And if the president does grant him another extension, then the suspicion that they are in cahoots together will arise – the deal that there was an exchange of the presidency for a pardon.
My guess is that the government will be formed at the last minute – and we will wake up on the shortest day of the year to a fascist state.
This is one of the texts in Ronen Shapira’s latest album that includes my poems. Here it is sung by the scintillating Bracha Kol. To hear the whole album, go to
the traffic jam before the game was incredible. Now the streets are totally silent. At half-time I ask you, why am I riveted to the TV? Maybe because no one will be talking about anything else tomorrow.
And then there will be nothing left to discuss. Politics is too terrible.
A few years ago Ronen Shapira recorded an album with my poems – three of the songs are sung by the fabulous Bracha Kol, and the others rasped by Ronen in his inimitable fashion.
Today he released the songs along with a melange of his compositions. Here’s one :
okay – it didn’t work – so if you didn’t press the link, here it is again. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_mICPObYjkg
There are lots of other versions of this song, but nowhere does it explain that the song is about the book of Judith, the apocryphal story that is associated with Hanuka, about a woman who beheads the villain and saves the nation.
We work with a very glitzy investment firm that has a showy event every year to prove that we should trust them. First, the CEO explains how wonderful the prospects for the future are, and then some important person is a guest speaker to give us an upbeat idea of how the world is running. It’s always interesting and even I am floored by the breakfasts on the terrace of the Rabin Museum and the hundreds of attendees.
But today was a bit different. For the first time, the CEO’s speech was not about how wonderful we’ve been doing, but about holding on and keeping a steady keel, and the guests – two celebrity news commentators – had some amazing jokes, but nothing good to say about our future. Nothing bad either – I’m sure they were warned – but not a single word of optimism. Nothing to mitigate the doom and gloom we are all feeling.
I know this must be a minor and perhaps boring issue for most people, but as an elder citizen it has become important to me. I get a bunch of prescription medications – usually without actually seeing the doctor, for a period of three months. Nobody actually supervises this process, and as a person my age I’m entitled to have it all delivered to my home. So no one even questions the mix.
So far it’s been very convenient for me. I know what to take and when and what not to mix. But tonight I’d forgotten to ask for a delivery and had to go to the pharmacy myself, and for the first time this year, the pharmacist questioned the mix. I would have liked to hug her for being the first to pay attention, but she was a very businesslike person and clearly wouldn’t have appreciated the gesture.