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-- Breaking the heart of a boy..an IDF bullet did
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ignore the troll, his just trying to get his post count up
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| Originally posted by VanFleet Suicide bombers target anybody, they target people with nothing to do with anything. Israelis target those who fund and carry out suicide bombers. There is a difference between terrorism and defense of innocents. Israel targets terrorists, Israeli civilian deaths are the Palestinians goal. Big difference Hamas and Arafat derive their legitimacy by killing Israeli secretaries and high schoolers. |
This thread is like watching two little kids throwing temper tantrums. Cyrus King, you especially need to grow up.
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| Originally posted by NeoPhono This thread is like watching two little kids throwing temper tantrums. Cyrus King, you especially need to grow up. |
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| Originally posted by Cyrus King I think you need to go fuck yourself. |
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| Originally posted by Cyrus King My pic was up for a day actually.. then i got sick of seeing my face after every post.. so i changed it. Im sure others got sick of it too.  P.S That is Mr. Ernesto Che Guevara in my avatar. |
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| Originally posted by VanFleet |
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| Originally posted by VanFleet |
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| Originally posted by VanFleet |
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| Originally posted by VanFleet |
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| Originally posted by TheDemon Weird, he looks alot like you. |
http://www.guardian.co.uk/israel/St...1098434,00.html
Tales of Tel Aviv
A grieving father tells Linda Grant about the day his 13-year-old son was killed by a suicide bomber
Wednesday December 3, 2003
"Me, Yosi Mendelevich, I was considered to be a very protective father. But there was a hole in my plan, I let my son take buses. I'm going to show you everything that happened on the last day of my son Yuval's life which was March 5 2003, when he was 13 years old, so you will understand the banality of the atrocity. At 6.45am I woke him up, he hugged me and said, 'Give me some strength for the morning', so I hugged him strongly. He got up, he washed his face, brushed his teeth, ate Cocoa Pops and milk for breakfast and put a cheese sandwich into his schoolbag for his lunch.
"While he was waking up, his murderer, Mohammed Kawasma, was travelling back from Hebron, where he had gone to pick up the bomb, through Abu Dis where they are now building the fence, but there was no fence there then and no one stopped him at the checkpoint. Around 11am, when Yuval was finishing maths, the murderer was arriving here in Haifa. He decided to wait until 2pm when all the kids from school were going home and the buses were more crowded. At 2.05pm, Yuval got on the 37 bus here, at the stop by his school, sat down in the fifth row from the back, on the right, directly behind the murderer, and at 2.07pm the bus started moving.
"After driving 300m, Yuval rang his mother to let her know he was on his way home. After this traffic light, at 2.10pm, Yuval rang me. He told me he was a little late because his art teacher had asked him to stay on after school to make a paper lion for Purim. I told him a joke; he laughed, he said, 'Daddy, I love you,' and at that moment, 2.14pm and 32 seconds, according to the time his watch stopped, the murderer activated the detonator of the belt carrying 17lbs of explosives, along with hundreds of small metal balls designed to worsen the impact. The bomb was made by a master of such diabolic devices in Hebron, Ali Alan, who has now been killed by Israeli security forces.
"When the phone went dead, I thought it was only a disturbance in the cellular system and I didn't get suspicious. Then I got a call from a friend who said, 'How is Yuval?' I said, 'Why?' He said, 'You heard there was a suicide bomb in Moriah Avenue?' I was shivering, a cold sweat was on my skin. I drove down the street and saw the bus. The other bodies were on the road in body bags but Yuval was still there, under a blanket, too burnt to be identified. His left arm with the stopped watch was blown off his body and was hanging out of the window on the other side of the bus. The air smelled of scorched flesh and I thought of Yuval's great-grand-parents who were wiped from the earth in Poland in 1941. That was their holocaust, this is his. Moriah, by the way, is the name of the mountain where God tested Abraham to sacrifice his son Isaac, but no one called from the sky to save my boy.
"Now I want to show you the wall here behind the bus stop, where the blood of our children was spilled. Seventeen people were massacred that day, a Druze, a Muslim Arab, a girl of the Bahai faith. Exactly two weeks before Yuval was murdered he participated in a co-existence project in an Arab village. This was binational Haifa. My barber, our butcher, our grocer are all Arab. Seven thousand people came to our house in the days of mourning, but no Arabs came. That is a devastating issue for me. Meanwhile, in Abu Dis, the family of Mohammed Kawasma were holding three days of celebration. He was not a refugee, his house was not demolished. He was a computer student in the Islamic Polytechnic of Hebron. Nothing brought him to that deed but religious ideology.
"This is our house. This is Yuval's room. He loved Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings. Here is his Nintendo, his dartboard, his clothes, his trainers, here is the paper lion he stayed behind at school to make. Did you see this sticker on his door? It says 'A whole generation wants peace' but he changed it to 'A whole Yuval wants peace'.
"I am an engineer, not a humanities person. However deep I go into language, I have no words to describe the agony. Some major part of myself is a black hole. Now we are at the cemetery. Here is his grave in the section that the municipality set aside for the victims of terror. It is filling up quite quickly. Here is my son under a granite stone, the dates of his life: 10.9.1989 - 5.3.2003."
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| Originally posted by VanFleet http://www.guardian.co.uk/israel/St...1098434,00.html Tales of Tel Aviv A grieving father tells Linda Grant about the day his 13-year-old son was killed by a suicide bomber Wednesday December 3, 2003 "Me, Yosi Mendelevich, I was considered to be a very protective father. But there was a hole in my plan, I let my son take buses. I'm going to show you everything that happened on the last day of my son Yuval's life which was March 5 2003, when he was 13 years old, so you will understand the banality of the atrocity. At 6.45am I woke him up, he hugged me and said, 'Give me some strength for the morning', so I hugged him strongly. He got up, he washed his face, brushed his teeth, ate Cocoa Pops and milk for breakfast and put a cheese sandwich into his schoolbag for his lunch. "While he was waking up, his murderer, Mohammed Kawasma, was travelling back from Hebron, where he had gone to pick up the bomb, through Abu Dis where they are now building the fence, but there was no fence there then and no one stopped him at the checkpoint. Around 11am, when Yuval was finishing maths, the murderer was arriving here in Haifa. He decided to wait until 2pm when all the kids from school were going home and the buses were more crowded. At 2.05pm, Yuval got on the 37 bus here, at the stop by his school, sat down in the fifth row from the back, on the right, directly behind the murderer, and at 2.07pm the bus started moving. "After driving 300m, Yuval rang his mother to let her know he was on his way home. After this traffic light, at 2.10pm, Yuval rang me. He told me he was a little late because his art teacher had asked him to stay on after school to make a paper lion for Purim. I told him a joke; he laughed, he said, 'Daddy, I love you,' and at that moment, 2.14pm and 32 seconds, according to the time his watch stopped, the murderer activated the detonator of the belt carrying 17lbs of explosives, along with hundreds of small metal balls designed to worsen the impact. The bomb was made by a master of such diabolic devices in Hebron, Ali Alan, who has now been killed by Israeli security forces. "When the phone went dead, I thought it was only a disturbance in the cellular system and I didn't get suspicious. Then I got a call from a friend who said, 'How is Yuval?' I said, 'Why?' He said, 'You heard there was a suicide bomb in Moriah Avenue?' I was shivering, a cold sweat was on my skin. I drove down the street and saw the bus. The other bodies were on the road in body bags but Yuval was still there, under a blanket, too burnt to be identified. His left arm with the stopped watch was blown off his body and was hanging out of the window on the other side of the bus. The air smelled of scorched flesh and I thought of Yuval's great-grand-parents who were wiped from the earth in Poland in 1941. That was their holocaust, this is his. Moriah, by the way, is the name of the mountain where God tested Abraham to sacrifice his son Isaac, but no one called from the sky to save my boy. "Now I want to show you the wall here behind the bus stop, where the blood of our children was spilled. Seventeen people were massacred that day, a Druze, a Muslim Arab, a girl of the Bahai faith. Exactly two weeks before Yuval was murdered he participated in a co-existence project in an Arab village. This was binational Haifa. My barber, our butcher, our grocer are all Arab. Seven thousand people came to our house in the days of mourning, but no Arabs came. That is a devastating issue for me. Meanwhile, in Abu Dis, the family of Mohammed Kawasma were holding three days of celebration. He was not a refugee, his house was not demolished. He was a computer student in the Islamic Polytechnic of Hebron. Nothing brought him to that deed but religious ideology. "This is our house. This is Yuval's room. He loved Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings. Here is his Nintendo, his dartboard, his clothes, his trainers, here is the paper lion he stayed behind at school to make. Did you see this sticker on his door? It says 'A whole generation wants peace' but he changed it to 'A whole Yuval wants peace'. "I am an engineer, not a humanities person. However deep I go into language, I have no words to describe the agony. Some major part of myself is a black hole. Now we are at the cemetery. Here is his grave in the section that the municipality set aside for the victims of terror. It is filling up quite quickly. Here is my son under a granite stone, the dates of his life: 10.9.1989 - 5.3.2003." |
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| Originally posted by tathi ignore the troll, his just trying to get his post count up |
really? and how many people read his spammed articles?
his probably just that nazi Melech Mike back again to piss people off
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| Originally posted by Cyrus King boo hoo |
Cyrus often condemns Palestinian suicide bombers, i think this is frustration and anger talking
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