why does wordpress make me give titles to these things?  maybe i can go back and change each title to a number…it seems much more organized to me.  actually, in the virtual world, unlike the physical world, i am extremely organized: my computer is clutter free, each file in its place, logically ordered.  people are full of surprises.

ahhhhh so so so so so many thoughts these days…they swirl around i, half dazed by their mass, try futily to grasp hold of them, transfer them into logical units, toss around some words and hope they land in places that will create cohesive ideas.  my thoughts seldom come conveniently wrapped in diction, instead usually in untranslatable impressions and emotions, sometimes even colors and textures.  so many thoughts…so many…and most of them will vanish somewhere between bad memory, translation, and lack of effort.

there’s no point in me embarking on an attempt to voice these notions as i’m incapable of building them into a coherent thoughts even to myself.  and i do talk to myself…it’s called journaling.   oh and it’s called blogging too.

so some random things instead:

a few weeks ago it was my turn to give the initiating back smacks i’d received 4 months ago, and, as expected, it was an experience which was gratifying at the core.  (see past entry) my satisfaction was not found in pleasure of inflicting pain on another person, but in the brotherhood i felt, similar to that which was present upon my receiving of the same treatment, but from a different perspective, and now somehow completed by being on both sides.  the appeal of gangs and fraternities certainly is more understandable for me these days.  the internal violence as means of initiation creates a commonality which brings unity, and the act of, each one in turn, then inflicting that same suffering in the way he received it produces a sort of closure.  if, like fraternity hazing and gangs knocking teeth out of new members, our tradition was to cause actual damage instead of just a harmless sting, then i would call it savage and immaturely macho.  in fact, a whistle was recently blown on a certain unit in the idf which did participate in humiliating, sometimes harmful, and excessive hazing practices.  but causing black eyes and spilling blood is a bit different than making someone’s back a tad red and tender, and in our case each smack was, of course, given with a smug smile and followed by a hug.  mixing love with violence, i know, but really, it’s not as bad as it sounds.

other than that, i’ve been watching battlestar galactica…which, although at times overly dramatic, is one of the smartest little chunks of sci fi goodness i’ve seen in a while, though i’d hardly know as i wouldn’t call myself a fan of the genre.  my favorite episode to date brought me to tears, and i now realize that the theme it dealt with almost always has that effect on me, but when it is denied me, not when it’s given.  after freedom was won from a cruel occupying force which killed innocent people, one character was publicly shunned and constantly insulted because of keeping his job as the adviser to the president when he turned into a puppet leader who cooperated with that force.   in reality, this person played a major role in helping achieve freedom by sending every item of information he could to the resistance, but he performed this courageous deed incognito and so after the defeat, not knowing the importance of his work or even the names of those he had been helping, did not reveal his identity except to a few skeptical friends.  because of his appearance of compliance with every murderous act of the conquering force, he was sentenced to death for treason by the underground traitor-hunting leaders in the resistance, the very individuals he helped.  weakened by rejection and starting to become deceived by continual accusation, he began to feel guilty, doubting that  his efforts were at all effective.  he was disheartened to the point that he had no strength to defend himself when given an opportunity to speak before being executed, and had one of the accusers not wanted to see him beg, that would have been his fate.  the truth was stumbled upon almost by chance, and the reaction of the members of the resistance was that of utter shock.  sorrow and shame filled their faces, and speechlessly they cleared the way as that wear innocent man they had accused, insulted, physically harmed, and almost killed walked away freely.  if i were a better writer perhaps i could illustrate this moment and how it struck my heart – it was glory. oh, to be justified!  to be condemned, only to rise up, and not simply in innocence but in righteousness.

why did i cry?  perhaps it’s because one of the most painful offense i know is a false accusation, which can bring me to tears, and the yearning to be justified in the midst of it is one of the strongest emotions i’ve encountered.   also, i now understand that it reminded me of something, something that has not been completed.  it’s already happened…he was killed, accused and condemned falsely, but one day his justification will come, and the world will be speechless.  many others have met similar fates, and i could be one of them.  oh, justification.  it’s one of those things that happens fully only in the end, occurs when the truth is brought to light, but with god there needs be no hoping for some chance to stumble upon it, he will certainly reveal it deliberately in time.

and who said we shouldn’t watch certain tv shows…

oh, and i found out that i also get almost teary at messianic figures in movies and tv and books and such, from gandalf in lord of the rings riding gloriously on a white horse into battle to believers kneeling at the feet of laura roslin, the leader who seeks to save the human race in battlestar galactica.  heroic music in the background helps.  it just happens.  i can’t help it.  i’m silly.

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One Response to “galactastic”

  1. Peggy/Maggie Behrend-Weber Says:

    Ronit, this made me cry. I knew where you were going ultimately being a depiction of Yeshua. But I too have experienced this – and especially at the hands of someone who you expected to truly love you completely and forever – it hurts and the pain of not obtaining that justification is a killer. I couldn’t help but think of Richard Wurmbrandt’s description (Recently re-reading his book) of those who worked in this manner for the underground church in Communist Romania. They suffered terribly, being looked upon as traitors and treated as such; while all the while they were working to gather information to protect the very ones who despised them. Sound familiar? Many, most, or all of them never received any justification or ever revealed that they were true believers valiantly working to protect their accusers. False accusations ARE hard to live under day in and day out. The only thing we can do is look up and know our redemption draws neigh and HE will vindicate and bring justification some day, some how. It sure sucks though.

    You articulated this magnificently – great job! Your Dad and I have commented to each other how blown away your writings are. Blessings overtake you, Emma, and yours!

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