I can see where folks are coming from (and if you have an issue, I'm glad that we have the kind of discourse where you can speak up), but having met Laga, I certainly gave her the benefit of the doubt.

Sure, Vortex. I just wanted to let my feelings be known. I'm not carrying a grudge or trying to make Laga beg for forgiveness or anything. Just giving some feedback as to how wording could be and was perceived by an individual.

There are certain parts of my Irish heritage that I take great pride in...specifically music and the arts. I wish that my own family had been even remotely successful in avoiding the sad stereotypes of alcoholism and depression. No lie, I'm the only one...ONLY one...in the four generations of which I'm aware...that is not an addict of some sort or mentally ill. It's a pure miracle that my line survived at all. The fact that it ends with me seems, appropriately, Irishly poetic.

I'm sure I've recommended it before but I can't praise highly enough From a Whisper to a Scream - The Living History of Irish Rock.

It does, indeed, rock.

that legend raises some questions in my mind.

because in my mind, cutting off one's hand is not the work of a single second. If two boats are racing towards a destination and the furthers is stilll within hand-throw of the shore, they are both pretty durned close. How could anyone cut off their own hand and then be able to throw it faster than other boat could just smack down? Are there multiple other ppl on those boats involved?

I think i have to go with the giant theory.

And my Kerry Co heritage is never offended by Laga. The Indian Princess, otoh, is very easily insulted. Possibly because she never got a recorded name other than "Mrs Earl Finnacom".

Guys. I'm skipping (or actually, partly skipping. Planning to read what I've missed later). I didn't want to and planned to read all of the 300+ posts tonight and tomorrow, but Big Emotional Breakdown took charge in the meantime.

My parents, who raised me with a pretty left-wing agenda (yet not that liberal. That part I taught myself. For better explanation of what 'left" means in Israel: [link] ), are now very seriously considering to move to a settlement (Ma'ale Adummim), and I am to move with them. This city is being considered mostly because it's close to the very expensive Jerusalem, and like all settlements, is very cheap (settlements offer the same homes for third or half of the prices within Israel. A lot of the people in the settlement cities are not there because of ideology, but for the excellent prices). It's also big enough not to be returned in any future agreement (if that will happen in my lifetime), and not-such-a-bad-place, life quality wise.

But it's a settlement. My biggest, reddest line of all. In the various discussions in our house of those red lines, I even backed off my original "no" to the ring neighborhoods (and even discovered there's one type of settlement which I kind of approve of: the kibbutzs at north of the Dead Sea which were in a "settlement"/"not a settlement" on and off state for years, until around 1978 Israel finally decided they were settlements and they won't fight for the territory there. Also, the original territory in dispute was also with Jordan, with which we have peace now).

Basically, I'm under all sorts of pressures here. I cannot allow myself to live without the support of my family, and in this move it'll mean to live with them (for the first time after 9 years I'm not living at home). But it's my values (and what I thought was their values, too), vs. my family. And this is tearing me apart.

I told my dad, joking about the then-far-from-mind option, that if they'll move there I'll give an open invitation to every ISM/ISI/AAtW activist with the permission to sleep over/eat/whatever at out place. My dad, in response, said he'll host meetings of Combatants for Peace (which I believe he's actually planning to take part of).

But all of these doesn't matter, as much as I turned and turned in those ideas in the past weeks. In the end, you cannot call yourself leftist and live in a settlement, just as you can't eat the cake and leave it whole. Even if my dad and I will stay true to our words, and I'll even join Checkpoint Watch, it'll still won't make up for this family being a direct part of the occupation. Not to me, at least.

Ever since I realized earlier today how much real this option became I can't stop crying. But it's been a hell of a long day. I'm gonna eat something, and sit in front some TV to try and forget about this for a while. I'm sure I'll feel better tomorrow, and might come up with a battle plan, but right now... I cannot believe I found myself in this situation. Dammit.

Edited for grammar.

There are certain parts of my Irish heritage that I take great pride in...specifically music and the arts. I wish that my own family had been even remotely successful in avoiding the sad stereotypes of alcoholism and depression.

I guess for me, it's not even the fact that I grew up with Irish Rah Rah Rah, and having pride in whatnot (though I did reference in my earlier remark). I know a lot of actual Irish people. My family is connected to its heritage. It's just part of who I am and part of who my family is.

I'm the only one...ONLY one...in the four generations of which I'm aware...that is not an addict of some sort or mentally ill.

I also struggle with depression and addiction issues, but I don't think it's because of my Irish heritage, I think it's because of how my brain is wired (wrt depression) and how my family including my non-Irish mom raised me (addiction issues).

But, you know, congrats on the non-mental illenss having.

Anyway. Bygones. (I'm leaving to go to a work event and won't get back online for several hours, so I'm not flouncing off!)

I am sorry. I censor myself all over the internet but here I feel comfortable and sometimes that leads to me saying things in jest that I shouldn't ought to have said.

I'm glad that we have the kind of discourse where you can speak up

so very much this.

cereal before I duck out:

God, Shir- how horrible. I can't imagine having so many aspects of life so fraught with political and cultural meaning. {{Shir}}

Oh Shir. I can't imagine how tough this is for you.

How could anyone cut off their own hand and then be able to throw it faster than other boat could just smack down?

well, if someone on board had a nice sharp broadsword, it could be the work of seconds.