Moish Soloway's Journal

My 5 cents on Obama-haters

2009-07-28T15:06:46Z

Ok folks. Its been a while since I posted. There is a ton of things I wanted to write about but chronic lack of times prevented me from doing so. This morning I was driven to a point of total rage, so i just need to vent (which is the reason why people blog anyway, right?). Right. It really started last night, when before passing out I decided to read the Wall Street Journal (bad mistake - should have stuck to Hustler). Anywho, the thing that blew my mind, and does every day when I read the Goddamn paper, is the sheer venom they spew on Obama and anything Obama does or proposes. The man can simply do no right. The Journal has become the NYPost, minus Page 6. Then a few hours later I am sitting in my morning study hall and all of a sudden someone says: you know whose fault it is that all the folks in the NJ scandal got arrested? Obamas'. Scuze me? Well, he says, Obama hates Jews and that's why they all got nabbed. WHAT THE FUCK?!?!? Reasonable arguments like only 19 or 44 were Jewish, which considering the fact that the rat was an Orthodox Jew himself is pretty low, the fact that these people committed serious offenses (selling human organs!!!! duhhh!!!!), and that its a normal procedure to arraign alleged offenders and have a press conference about, all these arguments just hit a wall. Lights on, nobody home. WHY!!! WHY IN THE NAME OF THE LORD ARE PEOPLE THIS WAY!?!?!?! Why do people enjoy living in bitterness, anger and paranoia! It really baffles me.
What annoys me even more is that whenever you try to reason with them they brush you off as a "liberal" (read - fucking fag). Liberal? First of all, what's wrong with being one (if you know what you believe in and don't parrot those monkeys who make a killing on being a liberal, much like the monkeys who make a killing for being a conservative). Second of all, a person who is pretty much in synch with the NRA, limited welfare, and a Bush supporter for SIX FUCKING YEARS could hardly be called a liberal. But no, part of being a psychopathic asshole is always demonizing the folks that don't agree with your rambling and the reason is very simple. It's not about what you believe in intellectually, its not about the fact that you realize that NO ONE can be always wrong (just like no one could be always right), but its all about you being an eternal jackass who gets off on being bitter and self-righteous. Its about the amazing feeling that everyone is naive scum who don't deserve to eat the shit off your shoes and you will prove all of them wrong and the proof is... its in everything you see, because you, sick motherfucker, twist everything to fit your little pathetic universe.
So, whoever you are, I wish you well. I wish you got laid, had a shot of Jagermeister, shot a moose in the ass if need be, and took a deep breath... Isn't this world a wonderful place?

Новый online-журнал и статья о моей компании

2009-06-09T12:35:44Z

Я пробивал эту статью пол года :))

http://www.tabletmag.com/life-and-religion/modest-sums/

Just because I can

2009-04-29T00:12:45Z

Классика со времен прошедших выборов - СИЛА!!!

2009-04-14T22:22:13Z

Ну значит так

2009-04-12T06:05:53Z

Жиголо-метр. Сколько вы стоите в постели? (Триникси)

429

ВЫВОДЫ:

1) Час в постели со мной обойдется на 186% дороже среднего показателя по рынку.

2) Если бы у меня была такая зарплата на работе, то проработав всего 8.39 часов, я бы мог потом целый месяц отдыхать.

Пройти тест!

Для ежиков - Lets do it again?

2009-02-11T15:41:55Z

Еврейская Особая....

2008-11-06T17:59:15Z

My son, about to vote for Obama

2008-11-04T16:27:08Z

Брать или не брать?

2008-10-03T14:21:19Z

http://cgi.ebay.com/OVATION-NIKKI-SIXX-HEROIN-DIARIES-AC-EL-GUITAR-W-FREE_W0QQitemZ160289208888QQcmdZViewItem?hash=item160289208888&_trkparms=72:1163|39:1|66:2|65:12|240:1318&_trksid=p3286.c0.m14

Art. Great art. $2K :(

2008-10-02T22:47:48Z

Не мое, но всеравно гениально :)

2008-09-25T19:44:09Z

I'm a little confused. Let me see if I have this straight.....

* If you grow up in Hawaii, raised by your grandparents, you're "exotic,
different."

* Grow up in Alaska eating mooseburgers, a quintessential American story.

* If your name is Barack you're a radical, unpatriotic Muslim.

* Name your kids Willow, Trig and Track, you're a maverick.

** *Graduate from Harvard law School and you are unstable.

* Attend 5 different small colleges before graduating, you're well grounded.

* If you spend 3 years as a brilliant community organizer, become the first
black President of the Harvard Law Review, create a voter registration drive
that registers 150,000 new voters, spend 12 years as a Constitutional Law
professor, spend 8 years as a State Senator representing a district with
over 750,000 people, become chairman of the state Senate's Health and Human
Services committee, spend 4 years in the United States Senate representing a
state of 13 million people while sponsoring 131 bills and serving on the
Foreign Affairs, Environment and Public Works and Veteran's Affairs
committees, you don't have any real leadership experience.

* If your total resume is: local weather girl, 4 years on the city council
and 6 years as the mayor of a town with less than 7,000 people, 20 months as
the governor of a state with only 650,000 people, then you're qualified to
become the country's second highest ranking executive.

* If you have been married to the same woman for 19 years while raising 2
beautiful daughters, all within Protestant churches, you're not a real
Christian.

* If you cheated on your first wife with a rich heiress, and left your
disfigured wife and married the heiress the next month, you're a Christian.

* If you teach responsible, age appropriate sex education, including the
proper use of birth control, you are eroding the fiber of society.

* If , while governor, you staunchly advocate abstinence only, with no other
option in sex education in your state's school system while your unwed teen
daughter ends up pregnant , you're very responsible.

* If your wife is a Harvard graduate laywer who gave up a position in a
prestigious law firm to work for the betterment of her inner city community,
then gave that up to raise a family, your family's values don't represent
America's.

* If you're husband is nicknamed "First Dude", with at least one DWI
conviction and no college education, who didn't register to vote until age
25 and once was a member of a group that advocated the secession of Alaska
from the USA, your family is extremely admirable.

OK, much clearer now.

Только для Ежиков

2008-09-18T13:36:31Z

Если Русский блицкриг по Грузии вас вдохновил так же как и меня

2008-08-20T13:06:50Z

То вот вам еще. Радуйтесь. Медведъ Воскреси, бля.

My bachelor dinner is served!

2008-08-12T03:14:26Z

Тяжелобольной маленькой девочке требуется финансовая помощь

2008-07-10T18:16:29Z

http://sashanep.livejournal.com/491682.html

Заранее спасибо всем, кто сможет присоеденится. Я доверяю Саше.

Началось....

2008-07-03T15:34:39Z

Как Израильский полицейски закончил сегодняшний теракт в Иерусалиме

2008-07-02T12:42:44Z

Я не понимаю сколько еще евреи будут давать работу своим убийцам.

Открытие! Открывай уши

2008-06-27T14:23:09Z

Наконец появился новый источник вдохновения: Sixx:A.M. Группа создана басистом Motley Crue Nikky Sixx и DJ Ashba, записала soundtrack к книге Никки о его борьбой с героином. Помимо действительно очень красивой музыки этот soundtrack разбивает мозги и сердце возможностью побыть в голове у наркомана в самые темные моменты жизни. Возбуждает темное во мне, но в конце концов вдохновляет.
Вот пара песен с альбома:

Хочу кого то убить

2008-06-26T20:49:56Z

Получил мыло от многоуважаемой Барб. Она пошла пообедать в какой то индийский ресторан, сидела, никому не мешала, как вдруг услышала, что за соседним столом обсуждают.... МЕНЯ!!! Уже, бля, второй раз (до этого, звонил мой адвокат). СУКИ!!! Неоком больше говорить! Найду - выебу во все дырки, потом пусть говорят.

Моя новая любимая песня

2008-06-20T14:58:01Z

есть билеты на 8 Июля :)

Вернулся!

2008-06-11T17:55:50Z

Всем привет - только вернулся из двух (ближе к трех) недельного паломничества. Оклимаюсь, разгребу работу и отпишусь!

Новости из бункера Хуилари Клинтонидзе

2008-05-14T14:33:44Z

Понедельник

2008-05-12T12:58:16Z

I'm learning to fly

2008-05-07T18:25:13Z

В память о Danny Federici

2008-04-28T12:53:38Z

This eulogy was delivered by Bruce Springsteen at Danny's funeral on April 21 in Red Bank, New Jersey:
FAREWELL TO DANNY

Let me start with the stories.

Back in the days of miracles, the frontier days when "Mad Dog" Lopez and his temper struck fear into the band, small club owners, innocent civilians and all women, children and small animals.

Back in the days when you could still sign your life away on the hood of a parked car in New York City.

Back shortly after a young red-headed accordionist struck gold on the Ted Mack Amateur Hour and he and his mama were sent to Switzerland to show them how it's really done.

Back before beach bums were featured on the cover of Time magazine.

I'm talking about back when the E Street Band was a communist organization! My pal, quiet, shy Dan Federici, was a one-man creator of some of the hairiest circumstances of our 40 year career... And that wasn't easy to do. He had "Mad Dog" Lopez to compete with.... Danny just outlasted him.

Maybe it was the "police riot" in Middletown, New Jersey. A show we were doing to raise bail money for "Mad Log" Lopez who was in jail in Richmond, Virginia, for having an altercation with police officers who we'd aggravated by playing too long. Danny allegedly knocked over our huge Marshall stacks on some of Middletown's finest who had rushed the stage because we broke the law by...playing too long.

As I stood there watching, several police oficers crawled out from underneath the speaker cabinets and rushed away to seek medical attention. Another nice young officer stood in front of me onstage waving his nightstick, poking and calling me nasty names. I looked over to see Danny with a beefy police officer pulling on one arm while Flo Federici, his first wife, pulled on the other, assisting her man in resisting arrest.

A kid leapt from the audience onto the stage, momentarily distracting the beefy officer with the insults of the day. Forever thereafter, "Phantom" Dan Federici slipped into the crowd and disappeared.

A warrant out for his arrest and one month on the lam later, he still hadn't been brought to justice. We hid him in various places but now we had a problem. We had a show coming at Monmouth College. We needed the money and we had to do the gig. We tried a replacement but it didn't work out. So Danny, to all of our admiration, stepped up and said he'd risk his freedom, take the chance and play.

Show night. 2,000 screaming fans in the Monmouth College gym. We had it worked out so Danny would not appear onstage until the moment we started playing. We figured the police who were there to arrest him wouldn't do so onstage during the show and risk starting another riot.

Let me set the scene for you. Danny is hiding, hunkered down in the backseat of a car in the parking lot. At five minutes to eight, our scheduled start time, I go out to whisk him in. I tap on the window.

"Danny, come on, it's time."

I hear back, "I'm not going."

Me: "What do you mean you're not going?"

Danny: "The cops are on the roof of the gym. I've seen them and they're going to nail me the minute I step out of this car."

As I open the door, I realize that Danny has been smoking a little something and had grown rather paranoid. I said, "Dan, there are no cops on the roof."

He says, "Yes, I saw them, I tell you. I'm not coming in."

So I used a procedure I'd call on often over the next forty years in dealing with my old pal's concerns. I threatened him...and cajoled. Finally, out he came. Across the parking lot and into the gym we swept for a rapturous concert during which we laughted like thieves at our excellent dodge of the local cops.

At the end of the evening, during the last song, I pulled the entire crowd up onto the stage and Danny slipped into the audience and out the front door. Once again, "Phantom" Dan had made his exit. (I still get the occasional card from the old Chief of Police of Middletown wishing us well. Our histories are forever intertwined.) And that, my friends, was only the beginning.

There was the time Danny quit the band during a rough period at Max's Kansas City, explaining to me that he was leaving to fix televisions. I asked him to think about that and come back later.

Or Danny, in the band rental car, bouncing off several parked cars after a night of entertainment, smashing out the windshield with his head but saved from severe injury by the huge hard cowboy hat he bought in Texas on our last Western swing.

Or Danny, leaving a large marijuana plant on the front seat of his car in a tow away zone. The car was promptly towed. He said, "Bruce, I'm going to go down and report that it was stolen." I said, "I'm not sure that's a good idea."

Down he went and straight into the slammer without passing go.

Or Danny, the only member of the E Street Band to be physically thrown out of the Stone Pony. Considering all the money we made them, that wasn't easy to do.

Or Danny receiving and surviving a "cautionary assault" from an enraged but restrained "Big Man" Clarence Clemons while they were living together and Danny finally drove the "Big Man" over the big top.

Or Danny assisting me in removing my foot from his stereo speaker after being the only band member ever to drive me into a violent rage.

And through it all, Danny played his beautiful, soulful B3 organ for me and our love grew. And continued to grow. Life is funny like that. He was my homeboy, and great, and for that you make considerations... And he was much more tolerant of my failures than I was of his.

When Danny wasn't causing chaos, he was a sweet, talented, unassuming, unpretentious good-hearted guy who simply had an unchecked ability to make good fortune and things in general go fabulously wrong.

But beyond all of that, he also had a mountain of the right stuff. He had the heart and soul of an engineer. He learned to fly. He was always up on the latest technology and would explain it to you patiently and in enormous detail. He was always "souping" something up, his car, his stereo, his B3. When Patti joined the band, he was the most welcoming, thoughtful, kindest friend to the first woman entering our "boys club."

He loved his kids, always bragging about Jason, Harley, and Madison, and he loved his wife Maya for the new things she brought into his life.

And then there was his artistry. He was the most intuitive player I've ever seen. His style was slippery and fluid, drawn to the spaces the other musicians in the E Street Band left. He wasn't an assertive player, he was a complementary player. A true accompanist. He naturally supplied the glue that bound the band's sound together. In doing so, he created for himself a very specific style. When you hear Dan Federici, you don't hear a blanket of sound, you hear a riff, packed with energy, flying above everything else for a few moments and then gone back in the track. "Phantom" Dan Federici. Now you hear him, now you don't.

Offstage, Danny couldn't recite a lyric or a chord progression for one of my songs. Onstage, his ears opened up. He listened, he felt, he played, finding the perfect hole and placement for a chord or a flurry of notes. This style created a tremendous feeling of spontaneity in our ensemble playing.

In the studio, if I wanted to loosen up the track we were recording, I'd put Danny on it and not tell him what to play. I'd just set him loose. He brought with him the sound of the carnival, the amusements, the boardwalk, the beach, the geography of our youth and the heart and soul of the birthplace of the E Street Band.

Then we grew up. Very slowly. We stood together through a lot of trials and tribulations. Danny's response to a mistake onstage, hard times, catastrophic events was usually a shrug and a smile. Sort of an "I am but one man in a raging sea, but I'm still afloat. And we're all still here."

I watched Danny fight and conquer some tough addictions. I watched him struggle to put his life together and in the last decade when the band reunited, thrive on sitting in his seat behind that big B3, filled with life and, yes, a new maturity, passion for his job, his family and his home in the brother and sisterhood of our band.

Finally, I watched him fight his cancer without complaint and with great courage and spirit. When I asked him how things looked, he just said, "what are you going to do? I'm looking forward to tomorrow." Danny, the sunny side up fatalist. He never gave up right to the end.

A few weeks back we ended up onstage in Indianapolis for what would be the last time. Before we went on I asked him what he wanted to play and he said, "Sandy." He wanted to strap on the accordion and revisit the boardwalk of our youth during the summer nights when we'd walk along the boards with all the time in the world.

So what if we just smashed into three parked cars, it's a beautiful night! So what if we're on the lam from the entire Middletown police department, let's go take a swim! He wanted to play once more the song that is of course about the end of something wonderful and the beginning of something unknown and new.

Let's go back to the days of miracles. Pete Townshend said, "a rock and roll band is a crazy thing. You meet some people when you're a kid and unlike any other occupation in the whole world, you're stuck with them your whole life no matter who they are or what crazy things they do."

If we didn't play together, the E Street Band at this point would probably not know one another. We wouldn't be in this room together. But we do... We do play together. And every night at 8 p.m., we walk out on stage together and that, my friends, is a place where miracles occur...old and new miracles. And those you are with, in the presence of miracles, you never forget. Life does not separate you. Death does not separate you. Those you are with who create miracles for you, like Danny did for me every night, you are honored to be amongst.

Of course we all grow up and we know "it's only rock and roll"...but it's not. After a lifetime of watching a man perform his miracle for you, night after night, it feels an awful lot like love.

So today, making another one of his mysterious exits, we say farewell to Danny, "Phantom" Dan, Federici. Father, husband, my brother, my friend, my mystery, my thorn, my rose, my keyboard player, my miracle man and lifelong member in good standing of the house rockin', pants droppin', earth shockin', hard rockin', booty shakin', love makin', heart breakin', soul cryin'... and, yes, death defyin' legendary E Street Band.

Bruce Springsteen