television violence

I watched more television in the 8 months I just spent in the states then I have in the last 8 years combined. And still, averaging 2 shows a week, I didn't match the time most American's spend in front of the (now HD) tube.
Today, in Israel, I saw my first episode of Prison Break, and needless to say I was completely lost. What I didn't manage to miss though was the violence and brutality, even after shielding my eyes with the pillow in my lap.
The following scene raised lots of questions for me.
A father whose son is murdered kindly asks the official (who has finished his task) to take a walk so he can retaliate against his sons murderer. The torture consists of the use of a 5 inch medical needle, a car battery, and other devices I probably missed as I turned away.
Later in the show they show the father holding his phone up to the murderer who says, short of breath and clearly dying, "Pam, I'm sorry".
The husband takes the phone and says "Honey, it's all over. It's all over, I love you."
And a look of relief and emotion washes over her face.
***********
The first issue it raised:
1. Violence in the media. TV has reached a whole new level of brutality and graphic-ness in its violent scenes. What was once left to the imagination today literally made my stomach churn. We are slowly being so de-sensitized that the media needs to stay one step ahead displaying more blood, more pain, more suffering for us to see.
I'm not innocent, naive, or squirmish. I can watch doctors cutting open organs on medical shows, but I can't watch violence.
And perhaps its this desensitivity to violence that makes us apathetic, as a culture, as a nation, to genocide, to wars, and fighting...
2. The other issue it brought up was revenge and retaliation. I can't begin to imagine the pain one must feel at losing a child. But I also can't begin to imagine the misguidance one must have in believing that revenge is going to help subside the pain.
Are things really "over"? And can his wife really live with a man who premedidated the brutal torture and murder of his sons murderer?
At times people have claimed temporary insanity in the face of grief, but a clearly planned and orchestrated act of murder sends chills down my spine.

We look at many cultures (among them some of the Muslim cultures) that believe in an eye for an eye, we look at the Bedouins who believe in revenge and honor, and we judge them as being backwards, barbaric, and so on.
Yet we show such things on popular tv as if its ordinary and completely normal. As if acting this way because you've "lost control" is different than if you've "lost control" and it's the norm.

Either way, as trashy as it is, and as much body image and self-esteem issues the new 90210 creates for the younger generation, I prefer that to Prison Break anyday.

welcome back

Back in the land of holy four days and I find myself wading deep through bureaucratic university muck.
Surprised when the voice on the other end of the phone is so abrasive I interrupt to remind it that I'm not complaining or criticizing, merely looking for help in finding a solution to said obstacle. "oh, god forbid, of course", the voice referring to my insistent reminder that I'm not on the offensive; though on more than one occasion I feel myself teetering over that fine line, ready to unleash the Moroccan temper stored inside me.
And a small voice echoes in my head, "welcome back to Israel".
The truth is that I am well-equipped, I have the elbows, the persistence, and knee-high rubber boots necessary to navigate through this wild terrain. But the reality is that I like my elbows moisturized and foot wear light.
We'll see how long I keep my American manners and temperament before my recently acquired Israeli edges begin to re-emerge.
I may love Israel but there are some things I prefer Americanized.

change

I sit here, in Israel, a mere 4 days after voting for Obama in the states. Four days after a black man was elected President of the United States of America. I sit here, and for the first time in my adult life I feel unabashedly proud to be American. Tears stream down my face listening to Will.I.Am's "Yes We Can" video. And I ponder at how never before were my politically inspired tears a result of hope and not despair.

I am moved at the number of things that this election means. I am inspired, hopeful, excited... grappling to find the words to adequately describe the feeling flowing through my veins, the feeling that is so much deeper than what I can describe through my intellect.
I want to write about it now, so that perhaps in fifteen years from now when my children ask me how I felt at this historic moment, I will have the words I wrote to show them.

Just a month or so ago I was wondering at the people who told me that they do not like McCain but that they do not believe Obama, and would therefore be voting McCain. I was astounded that we have reached such a point of dissilussionment that we are willing to safely pick something we know is bad for us, rather than pick something we are afraid may disappoint us. I think that that very disillusionment is testimony to the very place from which our nation rose to elect its first black president.

I had been cruising at 47,000 feet for about 8 hours when the pilot announced that we would be landing in two hours, that breakfast would be served shortly, and that Obama won the election. I let out a small breath of relief and regained my childhood pride, for I didn't doubt he would win. I couldn't imagine our nation continuing down the path it has been on. Yet it wasn't until much later that evening (the 5th), in Israel and alone for the first time in hours, that I turned on the television and watched coverage of the previous day, that I began to comprehend the significance of what had happened, and what it means.

A man who was born into an era in which he did not have the right to vote will soon be sitting in the most powerful seat in the nation, and arguably the world. A country that enacted affirmative action in the last twenty years to right the wrongs done to African Americans has elected an African American to lead them out of the darkness.

This election highlights the road the U.S. has taken from racism to tolerance, and from tolerance to co-existence (for lack of a better word).

hello winter goodbye

Today felt like the first day of spring; blue skies, bright sun warming the still air. Temperatures reached 67 degrees.
Yet tonight the clocks fall back, and my skin, papery dry for the first time this season, tell me that winter has really arrived.
In just two days though, I escape the brutal northeast winter yet again. I spare myself the spider web patterns that fill with droplets of blood, adorning the delicate skin on my hands as the winter gets harsher. And I return to the mild Mediterranean winter I adore where the coolness that escorts the changing of the leaves here in the northeast u.s. is as cold as it gets over there.
It snowed a few days ago, unusually early snow amidst a week of blue skies and warm weather. It didn't stick, if only to fulfill my longing to see the white stuff... it's been four years, and I admit I miss it.
It is hard to imagine the cold to follow once I leave, and it's hard to understand how people inhabit such a brutal place (still considered mild), and so easy to forget what it's like.