1st Palestinian Literary Festival in NYC

palestinian currency
Ghassan Kanafani (غسان كنفاني) — one of Palestine’s most important writers — murdered by the Mossad in 1972. Image copyright Jehad Naji

To any who might be interested in the story of the theft of Palestine by a group of Messianic terrorists who were abetted by the UK and France a century ago, as well as the continued resistance to this day by the Palestinean people to the Zionist colonial project, make sure you register for this upcoming festival in March 2020.

Palestine Writes Back will be taking place in Manhattan, at the NYU Kimmel Center.

If you act fast, the early bird special is good for the next 3 days (till Oct 31st, 2019).

Art, including of course literature — and not guns or violence — is one of the most powerful and engaging ways to get the Palestinian POV — without resorting to tedious propaganda — across to many in the US, whose eyes have been blinded by a relentless, coordinated and well financed fog machine of historical hokum on this tragic subject.

I can’t wait to revisit my old alma mater!

leaving america

End of the Abbey Road

ANOYHER ONE BITES THE DUST: ABBEY PUB

Tonight’s our last night in NYC, and by that I mean our last night ever in NYC.

Goodbye, Manhattan. I spent some of the best and worst years of my life here, but in the end, you couldn’t live up to your billing.

You’re too expensive now; too absentee ownership-ish; too touristy; too Jewish; too Black; too Spanish; too homeless; too loud; too dirty; too corrupt; too disapointing; too much the altar of broken dreams of every sort, shape, and size.

Once I thought there was no better place in the world to live than this; now I cannot imagine visiting here again, let alone living here full-time.

Goodbye, NY. You were great, once, but I sense that greed and corruption and widespread coarseness and vulgarity has led you to a place where you will never be great again.

Pity.

THINKING ALREADY OF TAVIRA

Inside the 104 bus, going downtown

Last full day and night in Manhattan.

We are about to take the 104 bus to 58th. We’ll do some midtown shopping, then catch a movie, and wrap up our stay with a dinner at one of our fave restaurants on Amsterdam.

So what have I learned on this trip?

You really can’t go home again.

As my 7-month trip to El Gouna helped me finally overcome any mooning over the long lost Egypt, where I emigrated from as a boy, now this trip has removed any desire whatsoever to move back to NYC — where I lived for 25 years.

Some developer asshole shut down a movie theater I have been going to since the 80s

My wife and I stopped at Sothy’s, where she went for a Zen facial. They have us a nice bag as a present, as we left to hang out by The Pond at Central Park.

We go back to Fla on Monday to be back amidst the geezer Neanderthal creeps who infest that twisted place.

But not for long.

Columbus Circle

I figure we’ll book our trip to Portugal before next Friday rolls around.

The Paris, where the movie is showing

By mid September, we will spend about a month in Tavira; this trip shall be a precursor to restarting my life in a part of Europe where the Moors once ruled.

I have no desire to live in this country any more, and I have a feeling that the Eastern Algarve may be it for us — a place that is affordable, run by social-democrats, hip, beautiful, and far away from crap America.

I’ll be leaving, as I did almost exactly a year ago; and this time it may not be only for 7 months.