Mother, thank you for the gift of life. Rest in Peace.
November 28th, 1965. I turn 58 years old today.
I have a personal library of almost 4,000 books. I read them all. A few of them more than once.
Still. Many questions; unanswered to myself.
* How did I live 57 years with no knowledge of the abhorrent conditions Palestinians are forced to endure?
* What is the real reason NEARLY ALL countries in the United Nations look the other way while The Terrorist State of Israel TORTURES a group of people for so long?
* Why is that every billionaire in this world - which is the most powerful commodity a single human being can accrue - are silent before so much violence against children, babies? Yes. Let's forget the adults for the sake of this absurd question.
I'm a writer. A director. I've seen the entire filmography of artists such as: Tarkovsky, Ozu, Bresson, Fellini, Kurosawa, Bella Tar, Malick, Alfonso Cuaron, Asghar Farhadi, Abbas Kiarostami, Krzysztof Kieslowsk...
But the
frame. The
scene. The
sequence. The
work. The poignant labor I will never forget is the one DIRECTED by Israel and PRODUCED by The United States and UK.
My mother suffered with depression throughout her entire life; and when I was born, the noble psychiatric professionals treated her condition with their particular brand of sadism: electroshock "therapy." She was highly intelligent and extremely sensitive; which exacerbated her condition.
She was admitted into a hospital in her early 20's and never came out. She died in her late 70's. My beloved grandmother raised me.
Why the histrionics? To say this: if I had no option, and had to choose one horrific faith for these two humans I love, my mother and grandmother.
Between the NAZIS and The Terrorist State of Israel, I'd chose the Nazis without any hesitation. It's a math equation, really.
A couple of years versus 73 years. And the Nazis were kind to kill them and toss the bodies.
Israel imprison them for decades and when they die in prison, they freeze the
bodies. Until the end of their sentence.
There's evil in this world; and there's Israel.
A little Palestinian BOY trying to make sense of the violence around him, his shaking legs, his
bloody hands.
A brief glimpse into now.
Ext. Santa Monica Blvd. - DAY
A mentally ill man is gesticulating wildly on the sidewalk. LAUGHING. MUMBLING. Incoherent words he UTTERS to passersby.
A little boy walks by holding his mother's hand. He stares at the man.
As they pass him, the man stops talking for a brief second.
They walk away. Leaving the man in the rearview mirror below. The little boy looks back several times. Trying to make sense of what he just saw.
EMPATHY.
The mother doesn't look back A single time.
