I CAN NO LONGER FEEL MY FINGERS

Actually, that was last night.  That I couldn't feel my fingers.  By the time I got home my fingertips were blueish.
A very attractive shade in fact.  Which was an aesthetic improvement over half an hour previously, when they looked like they had been fished out of the East River.

Do you know how hard it is to smoke when you've got Raynaud's Phenomenon?
It took nearly an hour for the darn things to return to normal.


SPEECH BY ONE OF AMERICA'S FRIENDS

Yesterday evening Shimon Peres spoke at Temple Emmanuel, and Lily Haskell's harem of angry young men was out on the street screaming their little lungs out.
They probably had to launder their clothes afterwards.
All those soggy diapers.
Quite the orgy.

[Lily Haskell: operative in charge of the Arab Resource  and Organizing Center (A. R. O. C.), and liaison with the potentially murderous fringe at UC Berkeley and SF State University, among many other dubious things. She and other instinctive Jew-haters had called for a massive 'unwelcome' demonstration. Massive means underwhelming.]


The main group of cretins and incendiarists stood at Cherry and Clay Streets, in front of the police barricades two blocks from the venue, screaming, waving, glowering, and glaring.  It was a cold night, so their incestuous clustering together MAY have been for warmth. 
Either that or to harmonize their hate.
Is everyone on the same key?
Mi mi mi mi miiiiiii!


At California and Arguello, however, there was a smaller more restrained group, comprised primarily of mis-informed Jewish women with pamphlets, insisting that a respected Nobel Peace laureate was a war-mongering apartheid-racist and despot. 
They probably confused him with one of the other people who've been given that prize.
Shan't say who - yemach shemo.

I stood at California and Arguello for over an hour. I was the only one with an Israeli flag there. 
Because I enjoy goading the ignorant.

Got called a "f***ing c*nt" by an Englishman (a credit to his erstwhile nation and British expats everywhere - that's why we love them), a "racist faggot" by a young unwashed passerby, and several even more unprintable names by various pro-Palestinian individuals who similarly did not have either the ability or the wit to express themselves with greater than gutter-trash eloquence in their own native tongue.
A number of those native speakers of English were Arab Americans.
Can one be mono-lingual in less than one language?

[Lest you think that ALL of the anti-Israel crowd who came to protest were of that ilk, it should be mentioned that some of them were actually very nice young men.  Yes, wrong, but still very decent folks.  In particular the three youthful Arab Americans that tried to engage us in conversation at Cherry and Clay - I had gone over there once I could no longer feel my fingers - who were sincere and courteous, and after I explained the vaso-constricted digit thing, wished us good night and good luck. I promised them that some day, under better circumstances,  we would finish the conversation.]

After the protests had ended a number of young yobbos along the road acted coarse and threatening, but savages showing their arse in public are easy to ignore.
One rather expects foul language from some people.
That's how their mothers raised them.

There was an raggedy mob of their blood-brothers misdemeaning near the gas station at the intersection.
They didn't actually come close, because there were five of us walking down the street.
Five somewhat stubborn people, four of whom were no longer young.
And as they themselves didn't actually outnumber us more ten to one (well, maybe they did), it might have been rather an iffy proposition for them.   
You can understand the threat we presented.

Their type always has issues.
And sisters.

Fun and games from 5:45 PM till 7:45 PM.

The anti-Israel action was scheduled for 5:30, but as most of us have gainful employment, our side could not possibly arrive at precisely that time to counter-demonstrate the hate-spewing. 
And obviously we have NO appeal among the shiftless and insane in this city.
Nor among delicious sweaty boys named Abdoullah.
I guess we'll have to work on that.

In complete contrast with the anti-Israel side, a huge number of random passers-by reacted positively to my Israeli flag at California and Arguello, and there were far more people attending Shimon Peres' speech than demanding mega-Jew-death outside.
That's not counting the thousands who couldn't get in because of limited capacity.
Clearly a majority support Israel's right to exist.
I'd count that as a definite victory.
Especially in San Francisco.


No, I have no idea what Peres talked about.
I don't deal with speeches well.
Transcripts, I'll read.


One minor recommendation:  next time PLEASE schedule talks by world leaders for warmer weather.  September is usually very nice, so is October.  If that conflicts with certain important dates on your calendar, perhaps try May or June (but please, NOT summer).  Not only will the maladjusted young people with issues caused by their mothers and sisters and female farm animals appreciate it, so will the rest of us.
It is MUCH easier to light up when my fingers aren't death-pallor white.
Or blue.
I could even smoke a pipe under those circumstances.
Instead of fumbling with my cigarillos.
Oppressive Zionist cigarillos.

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