Fantastic News — I’ve got a Publisher!

After four long years, two agents, three dozen rejections, three book tours, and three thousand copies sold…

I finally have a publisher!

Details will follow soon, after they’re finalized. But I couldn’t be more excited and hopeful that my publisher’s backing and reach can take this project to the next level. Selling 3,000 copies is great, but my goal has always been 100,000 copies. Now there may be an actual chance of that happening. Inshallah.

So many thanks to my wonderful agent, Helen Zimmermann, for getting this book in the right hands at the right time!

I’ll have to keep working hard to promote it, of course. But at least, and at last, I won’t be alone.

Now — one thing this all means is that pretty soon I’ll have to take my own sales channels offline. The book is scheduled to come out (in its new incarnation) next spring, hopefully along with reviews in mainstream sources. It wouldn’t be right to have the old version lying around on Amazon for people to pick up after my publisher has spent all that time and effort on publicity.

Also, the new version may involve some cutting down or altering of the manuscript. So if you want to read the current, full version of the book, you should act fairly quickly.

The best place to buy the paperback version right now is at the Palestine Online Store, run by my friend Haithem El Zabri in Austin, TX.

It’s the same price as Amazon, and for a low flat shipping fee, you can also buy unlimited amounts of healthy and delicious Palestinian olive oil, kuffiyehs (the famous black and white scarves), hand-crafted olive wood sculptures, books, films, all kinds of mouth-watering food items, and much more. I did nearly all my Christmas shopping there this year and was delighted with the quality of the items — it works well for Mother’s Day, too!

Also, you can still (at least for now) buy the eBook for $2.99 at Amazon.

Exciting times. Thanks so much for sharing this journey with me through so many ups and downs.

All I can say is…

* Barely resists urge to make a Howard Dean-like noise *

Ahem. Yay!

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We Can’t Make it Here Anymore

I found a copy of this song in an email years ago. It’s written by something precious and rare: an anti-war country singer.

He said in a press release for his album Childish Things, “I’ve always been a little put off by activists. So you know it’s a dire situation when I have to become an activist myself.”

In case you can't read it, the first side is a mega-corporation saying, "Help! Bail me out, save capitalism!" The second is saying, "Pay my fair share of taxes? What is this, socialism?!"

We Can’t Make it Here Anymore

James McMurtry

Vietnam Vet with a cardboard sign
Sitting there by the left turn line
Flag on the wheelchair flapping in the breeze
One leg missing, both hands free
No one’s paying much mind to him
The V.A. budget’s stretched so thin
And there’s more comin’ home from the Mideast war
We can’t make it here anymore

That big ol’ building was the textile mill
It fed our kids and it paid our bills
But they turned us out and they closed the doors
We can’t make it here anymore
See all those pallets piled up on the loading dock
They’re just gonna set there till they rot
‘Cause there’s nothing to ship, nothing to pack
Just busted concrete and rusted tracks
Empty storefronts around the square
There’s a needle in the gutter and glass everywhere
You don’t come down here ‘less you’re looking to score
We can’t make it here anymore

The bar’s still open but man it’s slow
The tip jar’s light and the register’s low
The bartender don’t have much to say
The regular crowd gets thinner each day
Some have maxed out all their credit cards
Some are workin’ two jobs and livin’ in cars
Minimum wage won’t pay for a roof,
won’t pay for a drink
If you gotta have proof
just try it yourself Mr. CEO
See how far $5.15 an hour will go
Take a part time job at one of your stores
Bet you can’t make it here anymore

High school girl with a bourgeois dream
Just like the pictures in the magazine
She found on the floor of the laundromat
A woman with kids can forget all that
If she comes up pregnant what’ll she do
Forget the career, forget about school
Can she live on faith? live on hope?
High on Jesus or hooked on dope
When it’s way too late to just say no
You can’t make it here anymore

Now I’m stocking shirts in the Wal-Mart store
Just like the ones we made before
‘Cept this one came from Singapore
I guess we can’t make it here anymore
Should I hate a people for the shade of their skin
Or the shape of their eyes or the shape I’m in
Should I hate ‘em for having our jobs today
No I hate the men sent the jobs away.
I can see them all now, they haunt my dreams
All lily white and squeaky clean
They’ve never known want, they’ll never know need
Their shit don’t stink and their kids won’t bleed
Their kids won’t bleed in the damn little war
And we can’t make it here anymore

Will work for food
Will die for oil
Will kill for power and to us the spoils
The billionaires get to pay less tax
The working poor get to fall through the cracks
Let ‘em eat jellybeans let ‘em eat cake
Let ‘em eat shit, whatever it takes
They can join the Air Force, or join the Corps
If they can’t make it here anymore

And that’s how it is
That’s what we got
If the president wants to admit it or not
You can read it in the paper
Read it on the wall
Hear it on the wind If you’re listening at all
Get out of that limo
Look us in the eye
Call us on the cell phone
Tell us all why
In Dayton, Ohio
Or Portland, Maine
Or a cotton gin out on the great high plains
That’s done closed down along with the school
And the hospital and the swimming pool
Dust devils dance in the noonday heat
There’s rats in the alley
And trash in the street
Gang graffiti on a boxcar door
We can’t make it here anymore

Richard Falk: Hana Shalabi’s Hunger Strike has Ended, but not her Punishment

Please note: This is a re-posting of Richard Falk’s blog post on his site today. Falk is an American professor emeritus of international law at Princeton University, the author or co-author of 20 books, an activist on world affairs, and an appointee to two United Nations positions on the Palestinian territories. He initiated his blog partly in celebration of his 80th birthday. He lives and teaches in Santa Barbara.

Hana Shalabi’s Hunger Strike has Ended, but not her Punishment

By Richard Falk
March 30, 2012

As with Khader Adnan, Israel supposedly compromised with Hana Shalabi on the 43rd day of her hunger strike in protest against administrative detention and her abysmal treatment. But Israel’s concept of ‘compromise’ if considered becomes indistinguishable from the imposition of a further ‘vindictive punishment.’ How else to interpret Israel’s unlawful order to coercively exile (not technically deportation because she is being sent to a location within occupied Palestine) Hana Shalabi for three years to the Gaza Strip, far from her home village of Burqin in the northern part of the West Bank, and more significantly, far from her grief-struck family?

Her older sister Zahra was quoted a few days ago as saying “I don’t want to immortalize her, I just want her to live.” We can join her in being relieved that Hana Shalabi did not join the Palestinian honor roll of martyrs, yet to transfer someone who is in critical medical condition to a slightly more open prison than what is experienced as an Israeli detainee, which is how Gaza has been described during its years of isolation and blockade. To call this release ‘freedom’ is to make a mockery of the word, even to call it ‘release’ is misleading.

Hana Shalabi is now being compared to Winnie Mandela who was also exiled to the remote town of Branford in South Africa, forbidden to leave, as a punishment for her nonviolent and militant resistance to the apartheid regime that had imprisoned her then husband, Nelson Mandela. When I had the opportunity to meet and spend time with her in 1968, a couple of years prior to her exile, she was a wonderfully radiant and magnetic personality with a deep political commitment to justice and emancipation from racism, yet a joyful presence who despite living under apartheid, was life-affirming and inspiring.

When she returned from exile, she was radicalized, embittered, joined in some violent oppositional tactics, seemingly exhibiting the alienating impact of the punitive effort by the South African government to diminish and marginalize her. This part of Winnie Mandela’s post-exile story should not be forgotten, nor should it ignored that she was not exiled when confronting the sort of life-threatening situation that Hana Shalabi faces as she seeks to recover from this long hunger strike.

Also, at least, Winnie Mandela’s youngest daughter, Zinzi, was allowed to accompany her, which was at least made an exception to the total separation from loved ones that has been decreed for Hana Shalabi, who in her current condition cannot even be considered a ‘political’ threat, much less a ‘security’ threat. Israel has compounded the crime of administrative detention with this shamefully gratuitous act of vindictiveness.

Article 49(1) of the Fourth Geneva Convention reads as follows: “Individual or mass forcible transfers, as well as deportations of protected persons from occupied territory to the territory of the Occupying Power or to that of any other country, occupied or not, are prohibited, regardless of their motive.”

The intent here is clear, even though the language leave room for lawyers’ quibbles: is the Gaza Strip another country? Israel itself claims that its 2005 disengagement from Gaza relieves it of responsibility. In any event, Israel’s order of banishment will be doubly enforced, neither allowing Hana Shalabi to leave Gaza nor to enter the West Bank where her family lives. As well, given mobility restrictions her family will not be able to visit her in Gaza.

Finally, it should be appreciated that this is a form of ‘collective punishment’ as it also adds to the pain and grief of Hana Shalabi’s family who will be denied even the opportunity to provide help and love that are obviously needed during what will be at best a long and difficult recovery period. In this sense, the spirit and letter of Article 27 of Geneva IV has also been violated in her arrest, detention, and now in this release: “Protected persons are entitled, in all circumstances, to respect for their persons, their honour, their family rights, their religious conviction and practices, and their manners and customs. They shall at all times be humanely treated, and shall be protected especially against all acts of violence or threats thereof and against insults and public curiosity.”

Denying Hana Shalabi’s any visitation rights while confided to an Israeli prison hospital prior to the time her order of ‘deportation’ is implemented, as well as denying the Physicians for Human Rights-Israel or Addameer the opportunity to examine and talk with her underscores the stone coldness of the Israeli prison administration.

It is up to the Palestinian solidarity movement to not let this experience of Palestinian hunger strikes be in vain. At best, it might be later seen as one of the earlier expressions of a Palestinian Spring. At the very least, it should become a key moment in an intensifying campaign against the practice of administrative detention in Occupied Palestine, as well as against abusive arrest procedures and general prison conditions that are habitually relied upon by Israeli military authorities.

Finally, this ambiguous punitive release of Hana Shalabi was apparently agreed upon not only on the 43rd day of her hunger strike, but on the eve of the 36th commemoration of Land Day by Palestinian activists within Israel and in Occupied Palestine. It is important for all of us to recall that it was on this day in 1976 that Israel killed six Palestinian citizens of Israel who were protesting, in violation of a curfew then in effect, Israel’s expropriation of their land.

The protests on Land Day 2012, especially near the Qalandiya Checkpoint have been met with tear gas, rubber bullets, and water cannon, apparently with some Palestinian injuries. Two Palestinian activists, Sam Bahour and Jafar Farah, living in the West Bank summarized the situation with these words: “After the Arab revolutions, there’s awareness of the importance of popular participation. This has rattled the Arab regimes, and now it’s frightening the Israeli government.”

It does appear that these hunger strikes, augmented by sympathetic and symbolic strikes within Israeli jails, in Palestine, and around the world, as well as vibrant protests on Land Day, and a worldwide BDS movement are all signs of a Palestinian reawakening that will gather political leverage as its momentum builds. This is my hope for the year ahead.

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Rawan Yaghi, Gaza’s Searing Voice

Her writing is spare, precise, and deeply evocative. It somehow finds the color, even the haunting loveliness, of horror and tragedy, which makes it all the more human and all the more quietly devastating.

She blogs here, and her winning entry for a writing contest at Mondoweiss can be found at this link. Here’s Phil Weiss’s description of her and how impressed he was when he met her in a political session via Skype from Gaza.

Her prize for winning the Mondoweiss competition was a stack of books of her choice. The problem, of course, was getting the books into Gaza. It took more than a year to get the books to her. But they are finally in her hands.

Here’s a close-up of her stack of books:

I nearly fell out of my chair the day I saw this photograph. There were tears in my eyes. It made my day, my week, my year for my book to come full circle like that, for such an amazing and talented writer in Gaza to have heard of my humble attempt to capture at least some parts of her situation in a way Americans can relate to, and to want to read it for herself.

Below is a sample of her writing, my favorite of hers that I’ve read. After you read it, you’ll understand why I’m so honored to be in that collection in her hands. It’s so humbling to be a part of this community.

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A Little Girl

Rawan Yaghi, 17 years old, Gaza Strip

Sleep in here sleep little girl
I would keep you so warm
Sleep… darling I’ll hold you so firm
You’re here in my lap no need for fright
Keep on your happy sight
Sun will shine
Birds will wake the sleepy night
You’re my…

My Mom suddenly stopped singing and stopped calmly feeling my hair. Her hand also stopped shaking. She was keeping me on her lap, trying to keep me warm in that cold night. It was too dark that I could barely see her face. She was very warm, but she gradually lost that comforting heat. I tried to keep it, so I covered her with the small blanket she was covering me with and I stayed in her lap. Some minutes passed; however, she didn’t continue singing, and her body kept going colder. There was so much going on outside. I could hear a man weakly weeping. I thought she was listening to the sounds outside trying to know what was happening.

I sat beside her, for, then, she was so cold that I couldn’t stay in her lap. “Mama, why is the man outside crying?” She didn’t answer. She kept listening. I said no word afterwards. I may have slept for a short while after the noise was a little bit lower.

When I woke up I saw my mother with her eyes closed covered with my blanket. I thought she must have been awake the whole time I was sleeping, that’s why I didn’t try to wake her up; she would get in a really bad mood if I do. I poured her some water and put it in front of her. She was still cold. I was cold too but I thought she was so much colder. I sat right in the opposite of her and kept waiting her to wake up and drink my glass of water and then thank me for it. Thinking of my dad and two brothers who got out of the house carrying a white shirt and how much noise happened after they got out, while my mother followed them so fast and came back so slow, with that noise frequently coming back, I kept staring at her cold body.

Now, two years later I understand it all, the cold, the whimper, my dad’s white shirt, my brothers, everything, even the mess outside. I understand why the men who came that morning took only me and why they wouldn’t listen to me yelling at them saying that my mother is still there feeling very cold.

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My New Book

It’s called Simple eBook Formatting for the Technophobic Author, available for Amazon Kindle and priced at only $2.99. Please grab a copy if you think it might be useful to you!

Here’s the description on the book’s Amazon page

So you’ve finished your manuscript. Congratulations! Now it’s time to turn your words into an electronic version that can be read worldwide on an array of eReading devices. Hopefully it will turn your hard work and inspiration into a source of supplementary income–anything from latte money to those rare and lucky people who can quit their day jobs and write full-time.

You could pay someone to do this for you, but why waste money, and take all the creative power out of your hands, when you can do it yourself?

The process of ePublishing is free, and though it is a little tedious, it’s not particularly difficult. What is difficult is wading through endless ePublishing web forums and bulky Formatting Guides and confusing Help and About sections to figure out where to publish, how to format your eBooks, and how to upload and manage them.

Luckily author Pamela Olson, who has six eBooks to her name, found a way to streamline the process considerably. She presents it here for you for the bargain price of only $2.99. It’s virtually guaranteed to save you many hours (possibly days, and maybe even an ulcer or two). No prior knowledge is required other than a working knowledge of Microsoft Word and internet web browsing.

Simple doesn’t mean ‘plain,’ however. In this guide, you’ll learn how to create, upload, and manage eBooks that include:

- Beautifully formatted text, chapter titles, and headings
- Pictures, captions, and fleurons
- A clickable table of contents
- Clickable links

Once you master the techniques outlined in this guide, there will be plenty of room for adding your own personal flair to the design of your books. You’ll also learn about the benefits and downsides of the various ePublishing platforms, how the pay structures work, and how to track sales and royalties. And the Resources section at the end points you toward your next step: Marketing!

From the Author

By now, I’ve published six eBooks, and formatting and uploading them is a piece of cake.

But when I first got started last year, I had to wade through a bewildering array of help pages and tutorials. Most of the free formatting guides were bulky, inelegant, difficult to follow, and geared toward steering the user toward one ePublisher or another.

It was hard to find objective comparisons of the various publishing platforms, and once I hunted through endless blogs and forums and chose the platforms that worked best for me, it was another huge headache to figure out how to format my manuscript for each of them. The free formatting guides and help pages were either bulked up with information I didn’t need or stripped down to the point where it was practically useless. I was at my wits’ end trying to sort everything out. It literally took weeks.

Well, it shouldn’t have. And it doesn’t have to take weeks for you.

After I finally mastered the complicated ways they wanted me to format my eBooks, I discovered several steps that were unnecessary or overly belabored. When it was time to publish my next eBooks, I eliminated or streamlined them. Now, for me, publishing a robust and elegant eBook is a simple matter of a couple of hours of work that is, to be sure, somewhat tedious, but it’s no longer difficult or frustrating.

I’m writing this guide to bring this same experience to you, along with information on how to upload and manage your new eBooks. It’s one-stop shopping for anyone who wants to publish their first eBook.

Readers are also welcome to email me if they have any questions or frustrations (my email address is included in the guide). I’ll do my best to help, and also to continually update and improve this guide.

Happy publishing!

Click to download it now

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Jon Stewart’s Triple Threat

Something I posted on Mondoweiss today. I don’t know how to embed the videos here, so go to their site to easily watch all the videos. Or you can use the links in the headings below.

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This Monday and Tuesday, Jon Stewart dedicated three segments of The Daily Show to Israeli belligerence and American intransigence in the Middle East.

The first was an interview of Palestinian Ambassador Riyad Mansour that took jabs at the US government’s determination to veto Palestine’s application to the UN for statehood. The second made fun of the US, Iran, and Israel equally for their warmongering during an election season. And the third took on the Israel lobby, and the fact that no American politician dares criticize Israel while politicians in Israel itself are allowed a much broader spectrum of dissent.

I think it’s another blow to the silence and complicity surrounding all these issues in a major vehicle of American liberal culture.

Feel free to judge for yourself. Below are the clips and partial transcripts.

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Who wants to be a member of the UN? Palestine

John Oliver [voiceover]: “For seventy years, the Israeli-Palestinian conflict has been utterly intractable. President after president has tried and failed to propose a lasting solution. But recently the Palestinians attempted a new tactic.”

Candy Crowley on CNN: “Palestine wants full membership from the United Nation.”

Fox News: “Palestinians now want the UN to recognize them as the state of Palestine.”

John Oliver [sitting down to do an interview with Palestinian Ambassador Riyad Mansour]: “I think first it’s important that we agree to some pre-conditions for this interview.”

Ambassador Riyad Mansour: “I will be willing to hear it, yes.”

John: “First, this entire interview must be conducted with a 1967 vocabulary. Is that groovy with you?”

Riyad: “Groovy? It is agreeable to me, yes.” [Is this poking fun at the Palestinians’ insistence on pre-conditions or Israel’s refusal to consider them?]

John: “Moving on… Actually, before we do, is it hot in here?”

Riyad: “It’s fine.”

John: “So you’re not hot? Because I’m definitely hot.”

Riyad: “I am not.”

John: “OK, look, Ambassador, I think before we do anything, we are gonna have to come to a provisional status agreement on the temperature in this room.”

Riyad: “If you want to lower the temperature, it’s fine with me.”

John: “But who’s going to control the thermostat?”

Riyad: “The thermostat… should be shared by all of us.”

John: “Don’t even think about dividing this thermostat.”

Riyad: “We will not divide the thermostat, but it should be accessed by all those who cherish it and think that it is a holy place that should be accessed by everyone.” [Is he implying the PA doesn’t want to divide Jerusalem, or that Palestinians don’t want to divide Palestine?]

John Oliver [voiceover]: “After three and a half hours of laborious negotiations, we finally came to an agreement.”

John: “We agree that at an unspecified time in the future, we will announce a summit to discuss the possibility of discussing a negotiation towards an agreement on temperature. Yes?”

Riyad: “Yes.”

John: “Shake hands for the camera. Thank you, Ambassador, this is a historic day.”

Riyad: “Yes indeed.”

John [Quietly]: “You’re not touching that thermostat.”

Riyad: “We’ll see.”

John Oliver [voiceover]: “So progress is possible. Unfortunately, the Palestinian UN application has one little star-spangled obstacle.”

Fox News: “The Obama Administration has pledged to veto any move toward statehood.”

John: “That’s right. We’re vetoing an application to an organization that even has Libya, Syria, and North Korea as members. But the Ambassador just doesn’t get it.”

Riyad: “We have 131 countries recognizing us as the state of Palestine.”

John: “But how many that matter?”

Riyad: “Well, all countries to us are important. We are not in the business [of] differentiating between small countries and big countries.”

[The whole time he’s talking, John is holding up one finger, implying that only one country matters.]

Riyad: “We know, one country, one country, yes. We understand. We understand. Even the one country, the United States of America, in principle they support the recognition of the state of Palestine. They’re just saying it’s only a question of timing.”

John Oliver [voiceover]: “And that time is emphatically not now. But perhaps there was one other way we could get them in.”

John: “So you definitely want to become a member of the UN.”

Riyad: “Yes. We don’t want to be the exception to the rule. We are like the rest of humanity.”

John: “OK. That brings us to the game show portion of this interview: Who wants to be a member of the UN?”

At this point there’s a bit with a trivia question and a bonus round, and the ‘prize’ is a US veto.

Riyad: “If we are vetoed once, we will come back again until we prevail… We are determined to be a member of the UN.”

The show ends with a disclaimer-type voiceover: “The Daily Show with Jon Stewart is not responsible for the outcome of this contest. All ‘mystery box’ results have been pre-determined by the US Department of State.”

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Words of Warcraft

Jon Stewart [after playing a clip of preposterous Netanyahu fearmongering about a ‘nuclear duck’ and Iran calling Israel a cancer]: “Israel and Iran are taunting each other with overheated war rhetoric. America, can we get a responsible party to break up this schoolyard fight before someone gets hurt?”

[Clips of Santorum, Romney, and Gingrich threatening Iran.]

Jon: “So in other words, simmer d— Wait, what? Oh, right. It’s an election year. Candidates are obviously talking tough. I’m sure Iran knows not to take those guys literally. They would know that, right…?”

Jon turns to Camera 3 to speak with Iran: “Here’s the thing. You’ve probably been hearing a lot of talk about America and bombs… on you. Um. Let me explain to you why we’re saying this. Are you familiar with Florida? It’s a region in the South that we’ve filled with old Jews and young Christians. And whoever wins it wins the presidency. And in Florida, they would like to bomb you if they could. So the talk of war is not actually meant for you, it’s meant for Florida. It’s an election season. Our rhetoric gets somewhat distorted, hyperbolic. Probably a cultural thing.”

[Fox news reveals that Iran is having elections of its own soon.]

Jon to Iran: “This explains your rhetoric! You’re having an election, too! … Israel, meet me at Camera 2.”

To Israel: “I don’t think Iran’s really gearing up to nuke Tel Aviv. It’s just crazy overblown election rhetoric. … The United States and Iran are slaves to their electoral calendars… So it’s up to you guys not to get caught up, and perhaps muffle the drums of war a little bit, Israel.”

Then Jon realizes: “Netanyahu could be calling parliamentary elections as soon as this fall? So your over-heated rhetoric is all just pre-election schvantz-waving, too? Son of a… America! Camera one!”

Jon addresses the United States: “Dude. Iran and Israel are also in an election year. We’re all just overhearing each other’s stump speeches and freaking out! And if we’re not careful, these to dickheads are gonna drag us into another war.”

Jon turns to Israel: “Did I say dickhead? I meant respected ally!”

Jon turns to Iran: “I didn’t say dickhead, I said proud and ancient culture that has much to teach us!”

Back to America: “Look, we gotta stop this before it gets out of hand. Because if Israel starts a war, you know we’ll have no choice but to dive into it with them.”

To Israel: “Which doesn’t mean you should start a war!”

To America: “Did I just commit our troops to Israel? Because I think I f—ked that up. A war would only strengthen the Iranian dictatorship.”

To Iran: “Not that you should start one!”

Finally Jon gives up and starts singing to everyone, then appeals to God to sort it all out. God does not reply. Perhaps he’s in an election season, too.

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Hebrew Nationalist

Jon: “Super Tuesday [is] a political event… with ten states up for grabs in the highly-contested Republican primary, the top three candidates paid special attention to apparently the most important state: Israel. That’s right. Each one took time out today, from the biggest primary yet, to address the American-Israeli Political Action Committee [AIPAC actually stands for American Israel Public Affairs Committee—a common mistake]. They love Israel. Not like that other guy they’re running to replace…”

[Clips of Fox News pundits talking about how hostile Obama is to Israel.]

Jon: “That’s why it was kind of surprising that Barack Obama also appeared at AIPAC. I guess he’s gonna tear them a new one, ugh… This could get ugly!”

Obama is shown at AIPAC spouting the usual tropes (albeit with a clenched and angry expression):

“Israel’s security is sacrosanct. It is non-negotiable.”

“My administration’s commitment to Israel’s security has been unprecedented.”

“There will be no lasting peace until Israel’s security concerns are met. When the chips are down, I have Israel’s back.”

“I’m so in love with you.” [OK, this one was taken out of context a bit...]

“I’ve said that when it comes to preventing Iran from obtaining a nuclear weapon, I will take no options off the table… That includes all elements of American power. A political effort… a diplomatic effort… an economic effort…”

Jon: “Is he gonna say it?”

Obama: “And yes, a military effort to be prepared for any contingency.”

Jon: “There you have it. That’s the guy who hates Israel. Basically the parameters for debate in the United States about Israel range all the way from ‘I unequivocally support them and might bomb Iran’ to ‘I unequivocally support them and will definitely bomb Iran.’

“Although to be fair, there are some prominent politicians willing to criticize the Israeli government. Even willing to say stuff like, ‘Israel is not about to be destroyed… with his crazy analogies, the Prime Minister is diverting attention from Iran to his fearmongering.’ Or, ‘(Netanyahu’s words on Iran) sound like a calculated preparation for a reckless adventure.’ Or, ‘Israel is making a mistake in its unwillingness to recognize a Palestinian state.’

“Oh man, I’d love to play sound bites of those quotes for you. But they’re in Hebrew. Because they were said by members of the Israeli Knesset. Because apparently in Israel, you are allowed to criticize Israel and still hold public office.”

Get your FREE Kindle copy of Fast Times in Palestine TODAY

Hi everyone,

Today’s the day — Go to Amazon now to download your free Kindle copy of Fast Times in Palestine! See the next post for more details, but it’s pretty simple:

Click on this link any time on Saturday or Sunday, March 3 or 4 — http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00513NHNI — make sure the price is still $0.00, and click “Buy now.”

Enjoy, and please spread this info as far and wide as you can! Thank you!

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Fast Times Giveaway and Benefit for Occupy AIPAC

This weekend in Washington, DC, AIPAC will descend upon the nation’s capital with tens of millions of dollars and hundreds of activists to promote its line: unconditional US support of the Israeli government, including backing up its insane threats to attack Iran.

Most of you probably already know why AIPAC is so dangerous, but just in case, Medea Benjamin has compiled this Top Ten List of reasons why.

But, like last year, they won’t be alone. Occupy AIPAC will take place at the same time, bringing hundreds of activists, academics, students, writers, and other supporters of peace and justice for all in the Holy Land. The schedule is packed with inspiring speakers and actions both at AIPAC’s venue and on Capitol Hill.

I was at the counter-AIPAC event last year, and it was fabulous — great folks, good vibes, and good fun. This year I won’t be able to make it, but I still want to support it however I can. So…

Until the end of March, I’ll donate 20% of all income from my book, Fast Times in Palestine, to the organizers of Occupy AIPAC.

And…

During the Occupy AIPAC conference — on Saturday and Sunday, March 3 – 4 — I’ll be giving away eBook copies of Fast Times on the Amazon Kindle website.

Everyone is encouraged to download a copy for free (it’ll be available at this link on March 3 and 4), and if you find it to be a useful way to introduce friends and family members to the beauty of Palestine and the almost indescribable injustice of occupation, you are welcome to suggest or gift it through the rest of March, which will result in a larger donation to Occupy AIPAC. The eBook is currently only $2.99.

Here’s what Reviewers on Amazon have been saying lately:

“Not sure what I was expecting when I started reading it, but the damned thing kept me up all night!!! … Pam’s account humanized life over there more than anything else I’ve read. I had no idea about all the checkpoints and so many of them being manned by kid soldiers getting off on their power to delay or violate without repurcussions… Bottom line: Loved it.”

“I felt like I was able to picture myself in her shoes and see a part of the world I was embarrassingly unfamiliar with. I felt like I was taken in by Pamela’s personal experiences and held in by the factual accounts of what she experienced.”

“I had no idea what to expect, and I knew nothing at all about the Middle East or any of its people. I loved this book, and it has opened my eyes to a different culture. I hope this writer is wildly successful. She is a really good story teller. She makes this non-fiction book read like a novel.”

Finally, here’s my first-ever attempt at Youtube-ifying myself. It’s a short reading from Chapter 2.

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Please feel free to grab your free Kindle copy here on March 3 and 4!

(If you prefer a paperback, you can get one here.)

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Free Fadi Quran

Fadi Quran

A friend and fellow Stanford physics grad, Fadi Quran, a Palestinian with US citizenship, was pepper sprayed in the face, thrown against a Jeep, dumped on the ground, and arrested on Friday, February 24, his 24th birthday.

The Israeli soldiers who did this to him accused him of assaulting a soldier, even though video evidence from at least two angles contradicts this.

It happened in Hebron, a Palestinian city whose heart has been nearly emptied of tens of thousands of Palestinians so that 500 settler fanatics can have the run of the place guarded by 2,000 Israeli soldiers. It is truly one of the most surreal scenes in the world, a post-apocalyptic ghost town sprayed with racist and violent anti-Arab graffiti.

The main commercial street of Hebron, Shuhada Street, was closed to Palestinians after an American settler named Baruch Goldstein massacred 29 Muslims at worship in the nearby Ibrahimi Mosque in 1994. You heard right – the settlers were effectively rewarded by the Israeli government for committing a massacre.

Fadi was protesting this unjustifiable 18-years-and-counting closure, unarmed and non-violent, miles inside Palestinian territory, when Israeli soldiers approached him and pushed him back, saying in broken Arabic, “Go back!”

Fadi replied, “You go back! What do you want from us? This is Palestine! You go back!”

One of the soldiers yelled again, “Go back!” and immediately grabbed him violently. Another soldier sprayed him in the eye with pepper spray. They then bum-rushed him to their army Jeep and threw him on the ground next to it, banging his head against the rear bumper on the way down. They stood over him while other soldiers started roughing up the people trying to record this event.

This post at The Atlantic shows two videos of the event from two different angles.

It’s obvious from the videos that the charge against Fadi is not only untrue, it’s completely backwards. As usual, though, evidence doesn’t matter when it comes to Palestinians. Soldiers can do what they like to Palestinians, charge them with whatever they like, throw them in jail however long they like. It doesn’t have to be true. Doesn’t even have to make sense. All they have to do is say it.

Under Israeli military law, they can hold Fadi for as long as they like — forever if they want to — without charging him with any crime or, if they do charge him, without giving him a public trial (or any trial at all).

Luckily in Fadi’s case, it seems he will be released on bail due largely to the fact that thousands of people, including “Noam Chomsky, Stanford Middle East professors Joel Beinin and Khalil Barhoum, and Director of the Martin Luther King, Jr. Research Institute Clayborne Carson,” signed petitions and joined Facebook pages demanding his release.

But there’s no guarantee. The latest word seems to be that “Quran was not released and was moved to Ofer prison in the West Bank. He will face a second hearing Tuesday morning.”

While at Stanford, Fadi took part in a three-week academic seminar in Ahmedabad, India, where he studied nonviolence at Gandhi’s ashram. TIME magazine profiled Fadi last March, calling him the face of the new Middle East:

“He is a Palestinian who has returned home to start an alternative-energy company and see what he can do to help create a Palestinian state. He identifies with neither of the two preeminent Palestinian political factions, Hamas and Fatah. His allegiance is to the Facebook multitudes who orchestrated the overthrow of Hosni Mubarak in Egypt and who are organizing nonviolent protests throughout the region.”

Fadi says in the article, “I think about the dogs unleashed on Martin Luther King in Birmingham. I think about the beatings. That’s what it took for Americans to see the justice of his cause. We will be risking our lives, but that is what it takes.”

I spoke with Fadi last time I was in Ramallah, and he had no illusions. He knew very well that he may be beaten, arrested, financially ruined, or killed for nis non-violent resistance to occupation. So when I saw the videos of soldiers assaulting and arresting him, I can’t say I was surprised, and he probably wasn’t surprised, either. He knows the reality. But it’s still sickening that so many people are forced to endure such pain and indignity merely to try to regain their fundamental human rights, their only weapons being cameras to record it, reporters to report it, and the conscience of the world.

If anyone ever again dares to ask, “Where’s the Palestinian Gandhi?” I hope you will tell them about Fadi, one of thousands of Palestinian Gandhis.

The Stanford Daily ran at least two articles about his detention, and The Atlantic came out with a piece about Fadi’s arrest called “The Arab Spring comes to Israel.”

Unfortunately, the vast majority of Palestinian prisoners, many of them committed non-violent activists like Fadi and/or imprisoned for reasons just as bogus, are not Stanford graduates, not as networked, not profiled in TIME Magazine. Hundreds of Palestinian Gandhis still languish in Israeli jails with no timeline for their release, no hope of a fair trial.

Khader Adnan, another Palestinian jailed without charge or trial, recently ended an unbelievable 66-day hunger strike in exchange for Israel agreeing to let him go after “only” four months of detention without due process.

He was willing to get dangerously close to death, which garnered worldwide media attention in the last days of his hunger strike, to defend his dignity and basic rights as a human being. And if he hadn’t, he might have been jailed for life with no legal recourse whatsoever.

This is just another tiny slice of what occupation means for millions of people.

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If you would like to learn more about the situation in Israel and Palestine and how to impact it positively, and you live in the Bay Area, a conference called Breaking the Barriers to a Just Peace in Israel/Palestine will be held in Sunnyvale on March 24-25, hosted by Friends of Sabeel. (Sabeel is a grassroots Palestinian Christian movement for peace, justice, and freedom.) The exciting program will include many fabulous speakers, some of whom are friends of mine, including Palestinian entrepreneurs.

You can register here.

The Situation in Syria

A friend who works in the UN was kind enough to invite me to the recent UN General Assembly session to debate and vote on a condemnation of the Syrian regime’s brutal crackdown on its own population. What struck me most were the arguments made by the Syrian regime and its (few) supporters:

“We’re not fighting the people, we’re fighting terrorism. No state can tolerate terrorists in its borders!”

“Why are you picking on Syria when lots of other places commit abuses?”

“You should use more “balanced” language to describe “both sides,” otherwise you are just inflaming the situation.”

“You shouldn’t do anything, instead we should have peace talks and dialogue [endlessly, while the abuses continue].”

“But we won’t talk to them until they renounce violence [and recognize the right of the Syrian regime to exist?]“

I was thinking the whole time… Hmm… Where have I heard all of this before??

Well, OK, I wasn’t really thinking it, because it was perfectly clear: This is the same language Israel uses every time the UN tries to condemn its flagrant violations of human rights and international law.

And then, of course, Israel voted for the resolution condemning Syria’s violations. Which is right and proper, of course. But the irony defies words.

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Grampa Red

My Grampa died last week. Melvin Ray “Red” Reavis. He was called Red because he had a red face as a baby. My Grandma is called Pat (even though her name is Virginia) because she also had a red face as a baby. So it’s no mystery where my pink cheeks came from.

Grandma Pat and Grampa Red

They were married 64 years. Twice as long as I’ve been alive. Few people ever have such a privilege. I can’t imagine what it’s like to lose it.

I’m still processing the sadness at losing him and the gratitude I feel for having him in our lives for so long. It still doesn’t make sense. Just a few days ago we could visit him, hear his stories, his laugh, his self-taught fiddle playing, his opinion about the weather or random goings-on in town. He’d be sitting in his easy chair watching Bonanza or out at the new McDonald’s with its views of oak trees and cattle pastures with Grandma drinking coffee.

There was little warning. He was having some heart problems, but after preliminary testing, he told everyone the doctor said he had the heart of a 45-year-old. He knew this wasn’t true, and that the next tests might kill him. But he just made jokes about how he dreamed Mexican banditos were after him while he was under anesthesia, and we didn’t find out the truth until it was too late. He was no doubt trying to be noble, didn’t want anyone to make a fuss. It was just his time to slip quietly out of this world.

But so many of us wish we had called, or visited. We wished we had known it was anything but another routine doctor visit. I guess the lesson is to call or visit anyway. Because you really never know.

Along with being a world-class wood-carver (self-taught in his 60s), amateur fiddler (self-taught in his 80s), unparalleled storyteller, cattle rancher, horse rider, electrician, plumber, carpenter, post hole digger and fence mender, serial cow dog owner, Gunsmoke watcher, Western reader, hay baler, tractor cusser, coffee drinker, biscuits-and-gravy eater, amateur yodeler, and patriarch of a huge and growing family…

My grandfather was a gifted, funny writer frequently published in Stigler’s newspaper. In Sept 2009, my mom gathered several of his stories into a book called Stories from the Pen of Melvin Reavis, which she published on Blurb.com. You can preview the book for free at the link, see some great old pictures, and read a few of his stories.

He tells his own story best, but just to preface it, he was born on May 31 in 1927, “the year of the big flood,” as he always says, the youngest (and by all accounts most spoiled and doted on) son of a large farm family in a tiny community near Stigler known as Taloka Prairie. Here are the first couple of pages of his book, which were read aloud at the funeral:

[Begin Excerpt]

Believe it or not I was born (and not hatched out of a stump from an egg laid by a passing buzzard) in a four room house that was set in the middle of Taloka Prairie. It was the last day of May in the year 1927. I was named by a bunch of cotton choppers and raised by one of the busiest farmers you ever saw. I say this because I was number 10 in a family of 11, and he farmed over 350 acres of cotton, corn, and oats. What his hobby was I never found out.

I took my training from Mom and Dad and nine older brothers and sisters. By the time I was 18 years old, I had made five round trips to California and made all kinds of money (I thought), and then I was drafted into the Army on my 18th birthday. I didn’t like no part of that. After I came home I went to California one more time and got all I wanted of that.

So I came back to Oklahoma and married a girl from guess where? Taloka Prairie. I took my buddy with me to buy my marriage license which cost $3.50. I had $3.25 so I borrowed 25 cents from him and got the license with the help of my Mama. We got her to go with us by telling her we were going riding around. She had her apron on and didn’t want anyone to see her in the courthouse, so they let me take the marriage license down to the car for her to sign since I wasn’t 21 years old.

I drew my 52-20 veterans unemployment until is ran out. Pat, my wife, was working and I never had it so good, but all good things must come to an end. I got a steady job with Public Service Company and worked in Stigler. I bought a car, on payments, bought a home, on payments, had four kids, on payments, and got ten dollars every two weeks to spend any way I wanted to.

We lived high on the hog, I thought. ’Course when I started to work I had 12 dollars in my pocket, so I was way ahead of that all along. I never got to be president of the company or even on the executive board, but I got to do all the good healthy work outside — too hot in the summer and too cold in the winter. But, Mama said to keep that ole money rolling in and we survived, and I made a lot of friends and met a lot of people, and I guess I would do the same thing if I had it to do over again.

I had an intestinal operation in 1975 and then worked another five years and had to retire on disability. Our children are all grown and married and we have 11 grandchildren and 13 great-grandchildren. I haven’t done a lick of work since I retired. I go to the mail box every day to see if my check is in, eat all I can catch and get Mama to cook, so I have no complaints or regrets.

[End of Excerpt]

His writings are full of understatement and humility, which was belied by the enormous attendance at his funeral and the collective mourning the whole town went into (along with people all over the world who knew him) when he died. The chapel at Mallory Funeral Home was standing room only with several packed spillover rooms. People joked that they’d never had to show up at a funeral an hour ahead of time just to get in.

There’s a group of men that Grampa played fiddle and sang with every week, and they played and sang old gospel and Bluegrass tunes throughout the service. The whole family came, from wherever they were. Mom had made a video of old family photos for Grandma and Grampa’s 60th wedding anniversary four years ago, and it was played again during the funeral.

The preacher was borrowed from the Baptist church since Grampa’s First Christian Church currently has a female preacher, and my Grampa wasn’t so sure about that idea. She put in some words during the service, but the Baptist was the star of the show. He didn’t do too bad a job, but it was jarring when he tried to console Grandma by saying the Rapture might come any day, hopefully in our lifetimes, and mentioning that we should remember other people suffering all over the world, “like them Jewish boys in the Middle East.” (No mention of them Palestinian boys; perhaps they slipped his mind.)

There was a little controversy about what clothes Grampa would be buried in. Everyone assumed that since he spent the majority of his life in overalls, that would be the most natural thing to bury him in. But my Mom adamantly refused: “Grampa is not going to be buried in overalls! We are not a bunch of hillbillies!”

My brother laughed and said, “I see you’ve reached the first stage of grief: Denial!”

But Mom had her way, and Grampa was buried in the kind of collared shirt he wore to church and family events. There was a little drawer built into the lovely oak casket, and several of us sent him to the next world with notes of love.

Grampa in his natural state

All in all, Grampa would have loved it. We wished he could have been there, like Tom Sawyer triumphant, telling us it was all a big misunderstanding and basking in the love and the grief turned to joy. As Mom said, “He would tell ten funny stories, play his fiddle, and then yodel four Jimmy Rogers songs.”

After the service we went out to Garland Cemetery, a beautiful spot deep in the countryside, where he was laid to rest beside his oldest son, Mike, who died too young in 1989. It was a beautiful partly cloudy day, and I wouldn’t have wanted to be stuck in the traffic behind the massive funeral procession.

Back at Grandma’s house, we hung out in Grampa’s room, which still felt thick with his presence. He had the old mirror made from a mule yoke, three cowboy hats on a rack, an enormous wall of Western paperbacks, the random ceramic boxing kangaroo he’s had since time began, a photo cube of happier times with green grass and horses, and his carvings and drawings decorating the walls and shelves. And of course several framed photographs of his wife.

Virginia "Pat" Reavis as a young woman

One of my fondest memories of Grampa was when he showed me where he kept his soft old handkerchiefs in a drawer and said I could have one if I ever needed it. I felt so rich to know such a treasure was mine for the taking.

I opened the drawer where he keeps them and took out one last soft red handkerchief, a token of innocent and unforgettable times.

It’s a beautiful life, and we’re all so lucky to have him in it. He’ll always be a part of us.

Melvin Ray “Red” Reavis, May 31, 1927 - January 30, 2012

May you rest in infinite peace and love. We'll always miss you.

A portrait Mom had made of Grampa. He loved it!

This was carved in the tree outside their house. Red and Pat. An epic romance.

The first carving I ever got from Grampa, when I was 8. I named it after one of his horses, Lucky.

The carving I coveted for years before I finally dared to ask for it when Grampa said he had too many carvings on his hands and asked us to take some. I could hardly believe my luck.

Here’s a poem my brother wrote for Grampa

No words to describe what I feel
Except to say this pain is real.
Lost a loved one, was not prepared.
Good to know so many did care.

Red was special there is no doubt,
Loved us all and knew all about
Jesus and country, family and friends.
Stood strong before us ’til the end.

Stories and laughter will be missed,
Whine of a fiddle, harmonica bliss.
Could extract from wood any design
Santa, horses, mules, and bovines.

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And here’s a song that was played at his funeral. It was written by Albert E. Brumley, a cotton farmer from Spiro, Oklahoma, in 1929 (when Grampa was two years old).

I’ll Fly Away

Some glad morning when this life is o’er,
I’ll fly away;
To a home on God’s celestial shore,
I’ll fly away.

I’ll fly away, Oh Glory
I’ll fly away;
When I die, Hallelujah, by and by,
I’ll fly away.

When the shadows of this life have gone,
I’ll fly away;
Like a bird from prison bars has flown,
I’ll fly away.

I’ll fly away, Oh Glory
I’ll fly away;
When I die, Hallelujah, by and by,
I’ll fly away.

Just a few more weary days and then,
I’ll fly away;
To a land where joy shall never end,
I’ll fly away.

From Red and Pat's 60th wedding anniversary with all the kids, grandkids, spouses, and great-grandkids. While we were playing in the front yard during the celebration, Grampa nudged Grandma and said, "Can you believe we did all that?"

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“When you are sorrowful look again in your heart,
and you shall see that in truth you are weeping
for that which has been your delight.”

― Kahlil Gibran

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Come to my Reading at the Half King in NY, Monday Jan 30

Just a reminder that the Half King Bar will be hosting me for a reading from my book, Fast Times in Palestine, on Monday, Jan 30 at 7pm. The lovely, cozy bar is at 23rd St. and 10th Ave, just before the Hi Line Park. Here’s the Half King’s announcement, and here’s my Facebook invite.

It’s a venue that usually hosts mainstream authors (most recently Michael Hastings, author of The Operators), so they’re taking a chance on this outsider’s memoir that’s unabashedly about Palestine. It’ll be great if you could come support their decision. Should be a good time!

A book signing, and then my birthday party, will follow in the same bar — I’ll bring the homemade chocolate cake.

Hope you can make it, and please pass this along to anyone who may be interested — the more the merrier!

See you there,
Pamela

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