Adonis Diaries

Archive for February 24th, 2014

It is good: A single lusty scene per movie…
Excellent for constipated people.
Two erotic scenes would not add much benefit to the constipation condition.
Three scenes is tantamount to risking a generalized diarrhea.
Better than lust, the extreme Israelis discovered a superior remedy to constipation.
If the Israelis don’t get their daily dose of sadistic behaviors and actions against the Palestinians, they get constipated. And they begin harassing the world community of “Anti-Semitic” trends.
Australian documentary on Israel torture techniques against Palestinian children  a link.
Germany Angela Merkel PM, a staunch Zionist,  (see link in note 1) and 17 of her cabinet ministers have landed in Israel today for discussion. What do you think would be the objective of this mass transfer of Germany top officials to Israel?
Netanyahu PM knows exactly that the EU has demanded a complete stoppage of settlement building and expansion, and Merkel made sure that Israel gets the message loud and clear.
Is Germany preparing Netanyahu  for his meeting with Barack Obama? Kind of extracting small tangible “concessions” to ratify a totally biased “peace treaty” with the Palestinians in exchange of a couple $billion in financial aids?
The Palestinians should try this alternative to increase Israelis constipated condition: Stay at home for a couple of days and refrain from crossing any of the Zionist military check-points.
Most probably, the Israelis will find all kinds of excuses to barge into peaceful Palestinian houses and get their daily dose of “laxative”.  And make a dash to the nearest WC “Oh, Oh. I got so excited and almost dirtied my pants“.
Or they may run to the closest olive tree, get their pants down and cut the tree: The tree is now impure and should be taken down and burned…
These kinds of insane archaic behaviors that only an apartheid religious ideology can generate.
Note 2: Stoned and dangerous
Note 3: Kill-goyim-children

What “Rhinoceros” play of Eugène Ionesco has to do with Egypt?

Are we celebrating the third anniversary of Egypt’s 2011 revolution?

Seems like yesterday: The euphoria never abated, from one uprising to another revolt to a mass revolution to another “popular” military coup…

DELPHINE MINOUI,  Middle East correspondent for the French daily Le Figaro. published this Feb. 19, 2014 in The Opinion Pages of the nyt:

Egypt’s ‘Rhinoceros’ Allegory

CAIRO — I’ve just finished rereading “Rhinoceros,” the 1959 play by Eugène Ionesco.

For someone living in Cairo these days, the parallels between the Roumanian-French playwright’s mid-20th century parable about the rise of fascist and Stalinist conformity in Europe and the growing  mass hysteria surrounding the rise of Field Marshal Abdul-Fattah el-Sisi are striking.

Café windows are covered with posters of the man who overthrew the elected Islamist president, Mohamed Morsi.  El-Sisi  is already seen as the next leader of Egypt, after his government bestowed on him the baton of Field Marshal before he retires in order to run for the presidency.

In central Cairo, you can buy chocolates featuring his picture. All day long, TV channels run excerpts from his speeches mixed in with patriotic hymns. At a recent wedding party at a luxurious hotel facing the Nile, guests started hitting the dance floor as soon as the D.J. played “Teslam al ayadi” (“Bless your hands”), an old nationalist song that many Sisi groupies have turned into an ode to the man, even setting it as the ringtone on their cellphones.

The Egyptian friend who brought me to the party described this Sisi-mania as “a real epidemic,” a virus afflicting even the once-rebellious youth who filled Tahrir Square three years ago.

A few days ago, outside the courthouse where Mr. Morsi is on trial, two girls had proudly strapped military boots to their heads in a gesture of submission to Field Marshal Sisi — like the characters in the Ionesco play who, one by one, grow bumps on their forehead that end up turning into rhinoceros horns.

The first time I read “Rhinoceros,” I was in secondary school in Paris. My teacher told us it described the roots and danger of fascism, and how an ideology combined with a conformist mind-set can reshape people’s minds.

The play, a classic of the “theater of the absurd,” was a vivid allegory of the upsurge in totalitarianism across Europe, and the conformity, fear and collective psychosis that came with it.

Fear is an irrational thing,” says Le Logicien, a character in the play. “It must yield to reason.

In Act 1, the sudden appearance of several rhinoceroses in a small town in France raises more fear and suspicion than fascination.

In Act 2, people start becoming contaminated by the “rhinoceritis” bug. That’s the case of Botard, one of the characters.

After fighting the epidemic, even calling it “monstrous,” he ends up growing a horn himself.

By the end of Act 3, all but one character, Bérenger, have turned into beasts.

Today’s Egyptian liberals and leftists mostly remind me of Botard. After resisting the manipulations of the military for two and a half years, many of them finally succumbed to its will, despite suffering pressure and humiliation.

Like Botard, the Egyptians seem to have lost their sense of resistance.

In parallel with a heavy crackdown on the Muslim Brotherhood and revolutionaries, the cult of Field Marshal Sisi has reached a level of collective madness.

In mid-January, as Egyptians were invited to vote on a new Constitution, polling stations turned into pro-army rallies — with fanfare and candies — while opponents were kept away from the show, hiding in their little corner.

On the TV, newscasters have metamorphosed into agents of the official truth. The army is fighting terrorism. Doubters should watch their backs. Field Marshal Sisi is the man of the hour.

Comforted by the mainstream trend, and giving up on their individual free thoughts, many Egyptians take this narrative for granted.

Dudard, another rhinoceros of the play, summarizes it perfectly: His desire, he explains, is to join the “universal family.”

In some ways, the widespread propaganda resonates as a bad version of absurd theater. Last month, a puppet character featured in a Vodafone commercial was put under investigation after someone accused it of secretly passing on terrorist instructions.

Even my daughter’s well-educated and polyglot pediatrician contracted the virus. To him, the army is doing nothing else than protecting the country from a big “American plot” to weaken the region by destroying the military forces.

Ironically, the newly turned rhinoceroses of Egypt are the same ones who used to accuse the Muslim Brotherhood’s supporters of being nothing more than a bunch of sheep. “You have to go with the flow,” one character in the play explains.

Of course, Egypt has its unique story.

It is a country where people have grown up with real love for the army and a nostalgia for the blustery nationalism of Gamal Abdel Nasser.

But there are definitely patterns inherent to other fascist states: the blind submission to authority, the persecution of those who think differently, and the tendency of unifying around a common enemy, in this case, the Brotherhood.

For many, putting on an awkward rhinoceros horn is more comfortable than risking losing everything in the name of freedom.

On Jan. 25, the anniversary of the revolution, I followed the few hundred ex-revolutionaries who had gathered in front of the Union of Journalists while facing off against tear gas volleys. A few blocks away, tens of thousands of rhinoceroses had charged in the very symbolic Tahrir Square — where activists had confronted President Hosni Mubarak’s forces three years ago — cheering on their new hero, Field Marshal Sisi.

In the middle of the crowd I recognized the journalist and activist Khaled Dawoud. Once an opponent of the Muslim Brotherhood, he is now a hardcore critic of the army. But to many Egyptians, he is an alien. I asked him if he still had hope for his country. “Yes,” he replied with no hesitation. “As long as I see these young people in the streets, the revolution is not over.”

Saved by his love for another character as well as his devout belief in critical thinking, Bérenger, too, manages to resist the stampede.

I am the last man left, and I am staying that way till the end! I am not capitulating!” says Bérenger before the curtain falls.

A version of this op-ed appears in print on February 20, 2014, in The International New York Times.

Knitting used as code in WW2?

“Properly practiced , knitting soothes the troubled spirit, and it doesn’t hurt the untroubled spirit, either”. Elizabeth Zimmerman

Real knitting

The word knitting comes from the Old English cnyttan, meaning “to knot”.

What we now call knitting – making a textile by looping yarn using two needles – isn’t much older than 1,000 years and it wasn’t until the Renaissance that wool was used rather than silk or cotton.

The verb “to knit” isn’t recorded in English until 1400.

The earliest fragments of apparently knitted material were excavated at the fort of Dura-Europos in Syria in 1935 and date from 265AD.

There are also socks from Coptic Egypt dating to the 4th century AD, but all these are made using a technique known as “nalebinding”, which only uses one needle.

QI: how knitting was used as code in WW2?

Needled: Rosalie Crutchley as Madame Defarge in the 1958 film of A Tale of Two Cities<br /><br /><br />

Needled: Rosalie Crutchley as Madame Defarge in the 1958 film of A Tale of Two Cities  Photo: Ronald Grant archive

Molly Oldfield and John Mitchinson posted this Feb. 18, 2014

Knitting codes

During the Second World War the Office of Censorship banned people from posting knitting patterns abroad in case they contained coded messages.

There was one occasion when knitting was used for code. The Belgian resistance recruited old women whose windows overlooked railway yards to note the trains in their knitting. Basic stuff: purl one for this type of train, drop one for another type.

Knitting miscreants

The most famous example of knitting being used to record information is Madame Defarge in Dickens’s A Tale of Two Cities.

She sits by the guillotine as the enemies of the French Revolution are beheaded, calmly recording their names in wool as their heads fall into the basket. But there’s no contemporary evidence tricoteuses – knitting women – existed.

One of the first actions of the Revolution was a demonstration against food shortages by working-class women. At first venerated as the “mothers of the revolution”, these “bonnes citoyennes” fell from favour during the Terror phase (1793-94). It seems likely that “knitting women” was a mocking word for female militants, but writers (like Dickens and Carlyle), looking for a bit of colour, interpreted it literally.

Knitting us together

In 2013, hundreds of pom-poms and knitted items were strung from trees and lamp-posts in Bede Park and Great Central Way, Leicester.

Police hoped this would soften and humanise the area and so deter crime. It’s part of a growing craze for “guerrilla knitting” or “yarnbombing” in which people knit cosies for tree trunks, parking meters and even buses or tanks.

The experiment had mixed results. Criminologist Charlotte Bilby said: “If you see something that makes you smile, that makes you think others have enjoyed being in that space and have done something funny, something silly, that’s going to change your perception.”

Local residents were less sure. “I don’t understand why wool would change people’s perception of crime,” one said, “or how woollen balls are going to fix something.”

Extreme knitting

Guerrilla knitting is not to be confused with extreme knitting. Extreme knitters knit while doing other things like running or riding a tandem.

The world record for knitting a scarf while running a marathon is held by 55-year-old Susie Hewer; she also has the crotchet marathon record, and the one for knitting on the back of a tandem. She does it to raise money for Alzheimer’s research.

Knitting islands

The biggest knitted objects in the world are the 45 Uros Islands in Lake Titicaca in Peru. Knitted from local Totoro reeds, they are strong enough to hold several hundred people, buildings and boats. The surface is so springy the islanders have trouble walking on dry land.

Knitting clocks

The 365-day “knitting clock” uses nearly 1,500 ft of yarn to show the passing of time and will leave you with a 6 ft 7 in scarf by the end of December. The 24-hour clock, created by designer Siren Elise Wilhelmsen, knits one stitch every half-hour, adding one new row every day.

Knitting shrouds

The Burying in Woolen Acts of 1666-80 were designed to promote the wool industry, but ended up stimulating the rise in newspaper circulation. People were generally buried in linen before 1666.

The statute insisted everyone be buried in a woolen shroud of English manufacture or risk a fine of £5 (about £650 in today’s money). Newspapers were made from recycled cloth until 1870 (hence the use of the word “rag” as a term of derision).

By demanding the use of wool, the Act saved £200,000 of linen rags, which were recycled into newsprint.




February 2014

Blog Stats

  • 1,518,879 hits

Enter your email address to subscribe to this blog and receive notifications of new posts by

Join 764 other subscribers
%d bloggers like this: