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Brucaliffo [ Feed your head: Disinformation is a weapon of mass destruction ]
 



Roz Angeles, Lombardia


New Brunswick, NJ


Ramat Gan, Isr 




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Perché
Feed your Head?
ovvero: whiterabbit


Quando insegui un coniglio
e sai di stare cadendo
vai a raccontare
che è stato un Brucaliffo
che fumava il Narghilé
a chaimarti...

Quando i pezzi della scacchiera
si alzano
e ti dicono dove andare
e hai appena preso un fungo
e la tua mente si muove lenta...

Quando la logica e le proporzioni
si sono addormentate
e il Cavaliere Bianco
parla al contrario
e la Regina di Cuori
perde la testa...

Ricorda
ciò che ha detto il ghiro:
Nutri la tua mente
Nutri la tua mente
Nutri la tua mente

.White Rabbit.JaffersonAirplane



12 gennaio 2009


Una madre israeliana (e un bimbo palestinese)

The past few weeks have been a nightmare for us (as it has been in Gaza) - sirens going off all the time, running to the bomb shelters, no school, the kids crying and scared all the time (and me trying to be brave), the kids wetting their beds at night.....

Yesterday I was reading on the internet and there was a picture of a beautiful boy from Gaza, he looked to be about 8 years old, and he was dead. My daughter, who is 6, looked at the picture and asked me if he is dead. I said 'yes'. She said to me 'is he Arab'? I said 'yes'. She said to me 'so he deserves it!'

I was shocked that my own daughter would talk this way. I have raised my children to love and respect all races and religions, and as bad as things get, I have never said a bad word about Arabs/Muslims. I work with many Arabs/Muslims - they are my friends, we go to each other weddings, we have fun together. When I talk about the Gaza war with my kids, I only say ‘Hamas’.

I asked my daughter ‘why do you say he deserves it?! Look at him. Did he do anything wrong?’ And she looked, and said ‘no, but maybe his mommy and daddy did’. So I asked her ‘if I or daddy do something wrong, should you be punished for it?’ And she thought for a minute and said ‘no…’ and she went to bed.

This morning my daughter came to me and said ‘mommy, when I was lying in bed last night I thought about that dead boy…and he didn’t deserve it….. Maybe we could have been friends.’ I got tears in my eyes.




permalink | inviato da Brucaliffo il 12/1/2009 alle 17:33 | Leggi i commenti e commenta questo postcommenti (2) | Versione per la stampa
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