The Metalhead Life


What people tell me when they find out I like metal:

But you’re so quiet, how can you listen to a bunch of noise?
The reason I listen to your so-called “bunch of noise” is the very reason why I’m so quiet. The music does all the screaming for me. And besides, it’s NOT just random noises. It’s music created by some of the most talented musicians the world has to offer. The perfection of the riffs, the percussion, the bass, the synchronization of all these instruments and the intricacy of the melodies appeal to the trained ear in a way that no other music can.

But you’re so sweet, how can you listen to such violent music?
Again, this so-called “violent” music allows me to soothe my anger without the need to physically or vocally expressing it. And violence is not the only theme of metal. Much of it is about empowerment, taking back control, speaking out, standing out, being yourself, standing up against oppression, being united for a just cause… there is a lot of positivity to be found in metal.

But I thought you were Jewish, so like what, you worship Satan?
Yes, I am Jewish. No, I do not worship Satan. Just because the theme of the satanism does appear in certain genres of metal does not mean I suddenly follow the occult. Kindly destupidify yourself.

How can you even understand what they say?
Yes, there are bands, mostly gore metal bands like Decapitated and Cattle Decapitation among others, where it is really impossible to understand what they say. However, personally, I always found that the music is more important than the lyrics. So I really don’t care much if I don’t understand what they say. But there are a ton of other metal bands where the lyrics are perfectly enunciated. Melodic Death metal bands like Amon Amarth and Arch Enemy for example. Also, you can always find the lyrics online. So whatever.

So you want to kill yourself or something?
No. I want to keep on living for as long as I can so that I can keep on listening to awesome shredding music, and hoping to not have to listen to assholes like you.

And you subject your kid to that noise? What kind of mother are you?
I am the kind of mother who will show my daughter that there are other genres of music out there besides Mizrachit, and that diversifying your playlist is not a bad thing. Being a metalhead does not mean that you are loud, violent, worship Satan, are incoherent, and suicidal, and it certainly does not make you a bad mother. In fact, the metalhead community is made up of amazing people, warm, kind and inviting, and if you are lucky enough to count yourself among these awesome people, you will discover a wonderful culture that encourages and supports individuality, respect, self-esteem, empowerment and pure fucking metal. These are the kind of values I want my kid to have.

Peace, love and headbang bang bang!



My Tired Is Tired


So I woke up on Wednesday morning when I heard my husband and my dog coming back from the morning walk. I figured that since I work the afternoon shift, I can afford to sleep a little longer, but I had to pee like a motherfucker. So I got up and went to the bathroom, where I looked at my watch without my reading glasses and deduced that it was 8:00 a.m. I wondered how it is that I didn’t wake up earlier when my daughter does. I came out of the bathroom and looked down the hall and saw that the door of my daughter’s room was closed, which meant she wasn’t in there anymore.

I turned to my husband and said “Did you already take her to daycare?”

“No,” he answered. “You picked her up today.”


“You worked morning today. You picked her up, right?”

“No, I work the afternoon shift today…” I wasn’t really following the conversation. Something didn’t make sense, so I added. “Wait, what day are we?”

“It’s Tuesday,” he said.

“What are you talking about? What time is it?” I asked still completely out of it.

“It’s 6:00.”

“In the morning?”

“No, it’s evening!”

Usually when I work the morning shift, I finish early enough to have time to go home, sleep for an hour, then get up and go pick my daughter up from daycare. But what happened now was a classic case of George Carlin-ation. In his “Jammin in New York” stand-up show, he says: “Did you ever fall asleep in the late afternoon and woke up after dark and you don’t know what goddamn day it is?”

I was convinced it was Wednesday morning, when it was actually Tuesday evening. What I thought was my dog’s morning walk was actually her evening one. And what I saw as 8:00 was actually 18:00. And I had slept for a straight 4 fucking hours and my daughter was still in daycare. I slept through the 3 p.m. alarm that I had set. I slept through both phone calls from the lady who runs the daycare.

“Oh my God!” I gasped when it finally hit me. “Go get her NOW!” I told my husband who was already halfway out the door.

Lucky for me, my daughter was used to being at daycare until 18:00 on days when nobody can pick her up at 16:00. But it didn’t stop me from being so completely disappointed with myself.

“What in the fuck is wrong with me?” I asked after my husband came back with my daughter. It’s like the whole evening just disappeared.

I recall working the morning shift and trying to find a meme that adequately described just how fucking exhausted I was. There was nothing to do at work and I was trying to keep myself awake by shaking my hands and hitting my face. Anybody who would have seen me would have thought I was having some sort of seizure or was going crazy. I should have known that my one-hour nap would turn into a four-hour long absence of consciousness. I honestly think I quite literally passed out.


Anyway, my daughter was completely oblivious to this lapse of judgment from her mother, who was still trying to make sense of what goddamn day it is. Seriously, even after I already knew it was evening, I caught myself getting dressed for work. My mind had checked out.

And this is my punishment for being stupid. I am never taking naps again.

Peace, love and sleep is for the weak

A Sight to Blindfold


I pity those who believe what they see.

They say, look, truth is a subjective perception of reality, you see? But they can’t look and they can’t see. There is no perception of reality. There is only the deception of reality, and reality subjects them to it, and turns any optical illusion into their pathetic version of truth. Reality is tainted by the media, blindsided by society, projects the masses into a pitch black darkness that casts a cataract blanket over their pin-sized pupil. And this is their reality – gives them two black eyes and shoves them into a gigantic black hole.

Your astigmatized friends can’t see past their stubby little noses. Every last one of them is a color-blind cyclops with an eyepatch. They’re all afflicted with the curse of the superficial – seeing is believing. All visual art blurs into visual impairment. Technicolor fades to grayscale. Deceitful reality takes hold through a thousand prescription glasses and blurs again at the bottom of a million wine glasses.

It is only when you start seeing things that aren’t there, or fail to see things that are, that your cataract-inflicted mind sees reality for what it is – carved up and down with bloodshot lies. Reality is blind hope. It is an occular aberration slashed with far-sighted dreams.

Power comes through the unfocused, dissolved visual element. A corroded cornea, a decayed retina. A bat may be blind, but becomes a ferocious hunter in complete darkness.

I am a bat.

“Hab ich die klaren Augen, nimm mir das Licht.”

Peace, love, eyes and lies.

To Read When Bored


I don’t have much of an update except for a list of complaints.

– I’m bored, which is why I’m writing this. It’s the only entertainment I can afford at the moment. Sorry in advance if it bores you too.

– I’m on the second day of my period and my dog ate all my chocolate.

– I lost my voice last night when I got angry at my dog for eating all my chocolate.

– I’m tired because I didn’t get my usual late morning nap because I had to take a shower and get ready for a wedding I have to go to tonight.

– I have to go to a wedding tonight and I pray to the Almighty Goddess that the music will be half-decent at the very least.

HOWEVER! There are positive things (which outweigh the negative) to look forward to and to appreciate in light of all my complaints.

– After many gray rainy days, it’s finally sunny and warmer than usual today.

– Today is Thursday which means tomorrow and Saturday I get to sleep in and slack off to my heart’s content.

– I am having an awesome salad with lettuce, cucumbers, tomatoes, carrots, peas, corn, potato, sweet potato, red pepper, hard-boiled egg and thousand island dressing. And I got it for free!

– There is a wedding tonight which means I can leave work earlier than usual, see my family, and have a decent meal. If I’m lucky, they’ll play some good music.

– I just bought a new pair of black track pants (long overdue) and a decent pair of winter boots. I would have made those a pair of electric purple Doc Martens if their price wasn’t in the quadruple digits. Christ!

– Yesterday, I passed by Tzomet Sfarim (instead of Steimatzky this time) and ordered Stephen King’s complete Dark Tower series. This is a more than just a positive thing. This is a fucking AWESOME thing!!! Long overdue SK fix.

– Chanukkah is coming up in December, which means doughnuts, candles, more doughnuts, shfinj, chocolate money, and ummm… doughnuts! 

– I invited my parents on one of the nights of Chanukkah for a holiday dinner. They haven’t been to mine and my boyfriend’s humble crib yet, so that should be nice.

– December is coming up. It’s the month during which I chose to engage in some intensive DIY. Below is the list of activities I drew up.

You know, I have no problem appreciating all these things, but it doesn’t change the fact that I’m still tired, bored, running low on chocolate, have a sore throat, worry about my dog, and stress over the wedding and possible lame music.

Peace, love and tonight I will be wearing the purple dress with the Arch Enemy logo that my mom knitted for me. Another positive thing!

Keep it Coming

I cooked some food and since my TV doesn’t work, I was sitting there in my matchbox apartment eating while staring into blank space with my thoughts running wild. I figured something out. I figured out why this world has so many problems and why our life can be so shitty sometimes.
I say, if our lives were perfect, if this world was perfect, what’s the point of living? Solving a problem, finding the ultimate solution means it’s the end. It’s over, there’s nothing worth living for. Complaints and pessimism keeps us alive because somehow, whether consciously or not, we strive to improve our lives and this world. We never completely achieve that. Actually, while improving one thing, we ultimately destroy another.
For example, when we clean our house, we use water. Water sources become scarce and our house becomes clean. We also take out the garbage. The environment suffers because of our trash and our shit, and our house becomes clean.
There is always something that needs to be done. Even jobs. I work for Palestinian Media Watch and it’s rather interesting to see that even our job may be self-destructive someday. We strive for peace between Israelis and Palestinians by exposing the things that need to be improved in the Palestinian media, society, politics and education. If we achieve our goal, and if there will be peace between Israelis and Palestinians, what’s the need for the organization? PMW will simply cease to exist.
So that’s why we exist. Problems keep us alive just like the Israeli-Palestinian conflict keeps PMW running. The Israeli-Palestinian conflict currently pays my rent and my bills. It’s aweful, but it’s reality. If the lives of people in Africa would improve, Sally Struthers and her counterparts would all have to retire. So Sally Struthers bills are being paid at the expense of poor, starving, dying children in Africa. The same goes for cops, politicians, lawyers, doctors, scientists, journalists, death metal bands… If all the problems in this world were solved, they’d all be out on their ass.
The world is not improving. Our lives are not improving. The only change being made is that there are different problems to deal with – problems that were caused by a solution to a previous problem, or problems that will yield solutions which will cause future problems.
This is what I was contemplating the other day while having my chicken-mushroom soup. I had a revelation and now I know the point of life – stirring the shit to keep the world turning. Pure genius! 


Today, my mom woke me up at 12:15 for absolutely no reason. I mean usually when she wakes me up she has a reason for it, such as "Buxy needs to go for a walk," "Buxy didn’t eat," "Buxy has diarrhea," "Buxy threw up," "Buxy’s not feeling well," or "You have a phonecall."
But today, no reason. That’s what my mornings boil down to – no reason to be there. What am I to do when I get up? Is there anything for me to look forward to? Two e-mail accounts to check, a blog to update and a dog to look after. Well, that last one is the only one that keeps me on my feet. Buxy is the highlight of my life right now, the only living thing that depends on me, as opposed to living things that I depend on (i.e. my parents).
That’s another reason for me to move to Israel, away from all that, so that I can concentrate on becoming self-sufficient. At 23, I’ve already managed to not find a job, to not be able to afford my own car/house, to be used for my skills for minimal to no rewards, to use my parents’ money for substance abuse, to live by Showcase’s schedule, to sell my soul for my two most important ideals (journalism and feminism) and for one that I never believed in in the first place (beauty), and to lose almost all my friends without great effort. Talk about achievement.
I was thinking, if I’ll be living on my own in Israel (preferably without a roommate since isolation is the best escape), I might as well get another pet. Not as a replacement for Buxy because there’s no such thing, ever, but rather a smaller living thing that will depend on me but not as much – a cat, for example. But cats in Israel are the equivalent of squirrels or skunks here in Montreal. They’re rabid and they live in garbage dumps. There’s a rumor that the new immigrants from Thailand that came to Israel in the past couple of years actually eat the cats. So on second thought, maybe I’ll get a rat or a bat or a ferret or some other rodent. Better yet, maybe I should get a tarantula to deal with my phobia of spiders and cockroaches, because anyways, there’s a lot of them in Israel. Yeah fucking right, man, tarantual my ass. Fuck it, I’ll get a rodent.
Peace, love and a fuzzy one that eats fruits and stuff. 🙂 
PS – Wishing a speedy recovery for Prime Minister Sharon. Go Kadima!

A Bad Case of BMFM

(Bored outta My Fucking Mind)
What’s My Goth Name?
"Lady Lilth: One day, you will rule the world. You are quick to point out someone’s mistakes. You tend to hold grugdes longer than most people but forgive people who deserve death."
Which of the Seven Deadly Sins Am I?
"You are Pride!
What it is: The worse of the sins. It is desire to be important, attractive to others or love for ones self.
Punishment in Hell: Broken on a weel (which means that they chain you to the wheel or the ground, and roll a huge spiked wheel on you).
Animal: Horse.
Color: Violet.
Demon: Lucifer."
Which Ultimate Beautiful Woman Am I?
"You are a Dominatrix! You rule men, you trample them, you make them pay and suffer, and love every minute! Crack that whip!"
(That’s gotta be my favorite!)