Israel, American Jews, and the USA

I sent the following letter to The American Conservative magazine on Nov. 29, 2014

Israel, American Jews, and the USA

Scott McConnell's conclusion in "The Right's Israel Turn" (TAC July/Aug 2014) that "The clampdown signaled by the campaigns against Sobran and Buchanan probably couldn't be carried out today . . ." sounds like wishful thinking.  Foremost, if he is right, this is only because there is no need for it, for no one of fame is left in USA government, media and academia who can effectively criticize Israel and/or AIPEC and survive professionally.  I don't know of Sobran.  As far as Buchanan, his views of Israel are the only topic in which I agreed with him completely.  Today, write anything against Israel in any paper and there will be replies from local Jews either labeling the writer as "anti-Semitic" or counter his/her content with selective reasoning.  I once wrote to Miami Herald why the editors always mentioned Israel as the only democracy in the Mid-East and the greatest friend of America, when Turkey with ten times the population, also a democracy, has been a NATO ally and friend since the days of the Korean War, and at much less cost to the USA.  Within days there was a response from a Jewish lady in the paper.  And she found and called me, vehemently complaining why I was so anti-Jew when the Jewish populations everywhere produced such superlative people—as usual, Einstein was mentioned by name--in every field.  Half-a-dozen letters and calls from others followed.  I noticed similar responses in the papers when I lived in San Diego, Los Angeles, New York and Washington, D.C.  (These kinds of thoughtless comments, and American positions taken against Turkey on account of “Armenian Genocide” invented and propagated by Armenian-Americans, should enlighten the Americans as to how and why the Turks are no longer as solidly pro-USA as they used to be.) 

Samuel Goldman gives a hint of what's happening behind the scenes in his "What Would Jeremiah Do?" (TAC, same issue).  Jewish power players in USA may be following God's directive to the Judeans through Jeremiah dating back to the Babylonian captivity," that the exiles should flourish and multiply and blend into society in which they are exiled, without truly assimilating.  On every issue except Israel, the Jews are probably among the most pro-American ethnic groups in USA, for only a prosperous and powerful USA, under pressure, can guarantee the flow of $3 billion annual official aid to Israel and fight endless wars in the Mid-East supposedly against "terrorism," which, in essence, is any potential threat to Israel's security, even if Israel is the instigator--building and expanding settlements, blocking any and all attempts to two-state solution, treating the Arabs as less than human.  (OK, of course I am not including all American Jews in my view, but frankly, I am not sure whom to include and whom not to include; for sure, AIPAC and its supporters are included.)  Everyone knows this, but no one in this big and powerful USA, supposedly with free press and honest debates, can do anything about it.  The world has known this for much longer, why America--not Americans, who are viewed as too naive, if not stupid, and too self-possessed to care about the nuances of intricate affairs--is now among the most hated countries in the world, when it was the most admired country in 1950s--even by my class mates at the gymnasium in Germany. To put it bluntly, the Jews, through AIPAC, have the USA by the balls.  All they have to do is squeeze their hand periodically and have Uncle Sam scream uncle and do their bidding. Other American Gentiles do their bidding for dubious religious beliefs.

Albeit, one wonders what the Forefathers would think of their meticulous creation reduced to the strongest puppet on the planet on this one issue. Their biggest mistake may have been in that they could not anticipate distant American leaders as so much less than themselves, not citizen statesmen with impeccable credentials but fearful and purchasable professional politicians.  Though I normally vote for Democrats, I would vote for Ron Paul just on this one issue.  God help the USA.

Sirman Celayir

Fernandina, Florida

  

Sirman's Book published on Amazon

CELAYIRS, DIARY OF AN IMMIGRANT FAMILY

My book, “Celayirs, Diary of an Immigrant Family,” has been published by Amazon and it will be marketed as book (around $20 + S&H) and as Kindle eBook ($4) worldwide, including libraries and universities. The book offers a very comprehensive coverage of all aspects of assimilation, including initial alienation and hurdles encountered, to a new culture, especially the American culture. In addition to our epic experience, there are a number of captivating stories and anecdotes, some probably worthy of a good movie. You will find my discussion of religion, any religion, the most commonsensical discussion of that topic there is. And there are several interesting appendices on various topics, including one about the ethnic Laz people and their language of the Eastern Black Sea of Turkey. In addition to the 79 pages of photos in 4 albums, I have also embedded 100 or so photos into the narrative of Volume 2, so that as you read about a name, there will be a person looking at you. This is an attractive, substantive and hefty book that will enhance and enrich any library, one that should appeal especially to immigrants. See the books at the link below.

Go to Amazon.com and search for Sirman Celayir

Belinda's book of poetry published by Amazon

Belinda's poetry has been published as a 91-page book by Amazon, the electronic Kindle version is now being prepared, though, of course, the book version is much more attractive. Go to Amazon.com and search for Belinda Celayir. Enjoy . . .

Anne (Mother) Dies at 10:40pm on Sep. 9, 2014

May 14, 2014 :Wednesday
          :Femsi came on 5/10/Sa for Mother's Day (5/11), and then took Anne with
          :her to WV on 5/14/We, supposedly for a month, after which Anne was
          :to fly with Gigi & and Cavit to Calif. on 7/1 via AA 75, return on 8/11 via
          :AA 76 to WV, then to here.  On 6/3 I made her reservation, which did not go
          :thru (an omen), which I renewed for $607 on 6/4, Femsi's 70th BD.  Just
          :a few hours later, Femsi called to tell me that she took Anne to the
          :hospital because she could not breathe well, that the doctors diagnosed
          :this as congestive heart failure, which caused fluid in the lungs, like COPD.
          :In short, Anne may never again return to me, may have to stay with Femsi,
          :a major turning point in my life, with Belinda eventually moving in with me,
          :a change in finances, etc.
July 21, 2014 :Monday
          : At about 11am today Femsi was told that the biopsy results have shown
          :that Anne has cancer in her right triceps, spread from somewhere else
          :in her body.  Since there is no treatment for her at her age, they will only
          :comfort her thru drugs.  Femsi did not ask how long she has.  In view of
          :this, they will also not treat her sugar.  Her ailments began on June 4, 2014;
          :see the 5/14/2014 note on the details.
Aug 21, 2014 :Thursday
          :Left for WV tonight, driving thru the night, to see Anne.  I stayed to
          :8/30/Sa and returned to Florida, the next trip planned for sometime with
          :Belinda at the end of the months, after my medical checkups on 9/23.
          :Anne did not look as well as when I saw her the last time but still made
          :an effort to depart with a smile when I was ready to return.  By then,
          :Amazon had delivered a review copy of my book to Femsi's and I
          :showed it to Anne. She liked it.
          :
          :It was not to be.  Femsi was having difficulty controlling Anne, who was
          :getting up on her own--and fell at least once--taking out the oxygen tubes
          :out of her nose, not taking medicine, etc.  Femsi was concerned that if she
          :could not control Anne, she would have to submit her to a nursing home,
          :thus jeopardizing the $125,000 Anne intended for Belinda.
          :
          :On 9/7/Su, Femsi said I should come to help her with Anne.  I had slept
          :maybe from 4:30am to 7:30am when we were talking in the eve.  She
          :suggested that I get a good night's sleep and then come the next day.
          :So I went to bed early, but could not sleep.  Something urged me to get
          :up and within 30 min. be on the road to WV at 8pm, a 13-hour drive.
          :
          :I arrived at Femsi's in the morning of 9/8/Mo.   Indeed, Anne was
          :not following Femsi's directions, refusing oxygen, other medicine, food,
          :drinks, and pushing hard to get up on her feet.  She seemed incoherent;
          :I was not sure she even recognized me.  No, Anne was not incoherent!
          :She felt Femsi was prolonging her life with artificial means, and so was
          :vehemently objecting, thus practically she was set to end her terminal
          :condition.  This way she would also avoid being taken to a nursing home,
          :which might have jeopardized the $125,000 she left to Belinda.
          :
          :For 2 days Anne strained her heart (by pushing hard against Femsi and
          :me), and by denying oxygen to her lungs.  On the 9th, she took a
          :sleeping position on her bed;  Femsi was watching TV; I laid down on the
          :sofa, but became restless.  At 10:40, Femsi went in to see to Mother, and
          :screamed: "Sirman, Anne is not breathing."  I rushed in.  Indeed, our Cici
          :Kiz was gone.  Femsi called the hospice; a social worker and nurse came;
          :Femsi and the nurse washed Anne and dressed her; the social worker
          :called for Cremation Services; we decided on the local Giffin Funeral
          :Home.  They came and loaded Anne on a stretcher, and at 1:30am on
          :Sep. 10, I saw Anne's for the last time, being loaded into a hearse...
          :
          :Femsi and I collected Anne's ashes on the 11th (Th); Gigi and Cavit
          :arrived on the 12th.  I showed her my book, in the final stages of being
          :published by Amazon, which Anne had also seen on my previous visit,
          :and I left that night and arrived in Florida the next day, exhausted.
          :Femsi and I made arrangements to meet in Fernandina on the 26th,
          :along with Belinda, to drive down to Miami and on the 27th/ 28th (Su),
          :pour Anne's ashes to Miami channel, as Anne and I had Father's ashes
          :16 years earlier, with some flowers and (this time) 4 balloons . . .
9/9/2014  Wednesday
          :Anne died today at 10:20pm at Femsi's home; I saw her last being
          :loaded into a hearse at 1:20am on Sep. 10, 14 (Th). She has graced
          :Celayirs (and the world) for 97 years, 6 months, 8 days, 22 hours and
          :40 minutes.  To us she was "annelerin annesi" (Mother of all mothers),
          :"Tompi(sh)" (an endearment), and "cici kiz" (cute girl).

Our Americanization Completed in Tuzla, Istanbul

Note: I added this part in the summer of 2014 as Epilogue at the end of Volume 2 of the ebook edition of my book Celayirs, Diary of an Immigrant Family which I had produced in 675-page hard-cover on July 4, 1997.

My interaction with our supposedly upper-crust Turkish neighbors in the resort town of Tuzla became a major impediment to maintaining a home in Turkey, never mind any thoughts of a bond with a Turkish woman, which family and friends insisted I needed. With father talking about his need to start dialysis treatments in U.S.A., soon my sisters and I could have for free our villa at this exclusive resort town in Istanbul. Did we want it, father asked us. My sisters could do without a home in Istanbul, but I wanted to make sure. While deliberating, I made an effort to get to know our neighbors. The Turks consider themselves as very smart, without so much recognizing that their's is more like a survival IQ that most people especially in the developing world possess. (The really smart Turks are likely the ones who migrate to more advanced countries in order to find real outlets for their intellect.) They are also very warm and sociable--things they intensely and incessantly complain about lacking when they are in the States. On the surface the neighbors were indeed engaging, but eventually it became apparent that what I was being subjected to was a well-practiced but insincere courtesy and friendliness--or “sahte nezaket and samimiyet” as they would say in Turkish. Underneath the effervescence, I found them rude and crude in manners, like inviting me to a party and then canceling the invitation just before the party, and this by one who had qualified me as a personal friend. (And I suppose this was still a better “friend” than another friend who did not bother to invite me to his party in the first place.) Since I was the only bachelor among the adults there, at first I assumed my status was their dividing line. Then I sensed that there was strong objection by many to my presence as far as private parties were concerned. I had not done anything remotely objectionable to anyone. I was sociable with the few people with whom I interacted more frequently, but otherwise I remained independent and self-sufficient, not seemingly needy of constant company and chit-chat—traits that are alien to the Turks when they are among themselves. That I attended (or not) their parties with lots of drinks and “western” music and gushing small talk--with lots of gestures to each other as to how westernized they had become--did not bother me. I had had my fraternity parties at the university, when I was that age, and in a week or two I would be back in Washington, D.C. with my girlfriend.

What interested me was the petty politics they played. OK, I was being ostracized. I knew that Turkish people, who copy everything (easy to copy) from the west, openly embrace all foreigners and foreign things, except a native Turk who no longer acts Turkish. The crux of what annoyed them most was not that I had attempted to assimilate to the U.S.A., which a few of them who had spent time in U.S.A. had too, though only superficially just to get by, but that I seemed to have succeeded in becoming more American than Turkish. I had discerned this already by 1980s, after four or five short stays in Tuzla. I decided that I did not want such a static base in Turkey (or in U.S.A. for that matter), with the same like-minded people around me at all times. But since parents were still there, when I arrived, I too began to play an elaborate game with the neighbors. I made sure I acted even less inhibited and more independent, and actually even started heavy physical exercises, like running and jumping rope openly, activities that no Turk my age would indulge in, just to rub in. Unlike my age of Turks, I was athletic, youthful, colorful and a bit daredevil too. Heck, I liked their impression of me and wanted to savor the prize. So, in fact, my assimilation process to the U.S.A. was concluded not in the United States but in Tuzla, Turkey, though I adored my Turkish mother and two sisters—who, by this time, like me, had also assimilated to the U.S.A. and were as American as they were anything else.

We sold our villa in Tuzla in May 1993 and permanently returned to the U.S.A.; I purchased an exquisite water-front condo in South Beach (SoHo, Miami), and we never looked back.  We heard some neighbors were surprised that we could leave such a paradise as Tuzla. We always knew we had that choice, and unlike them, we felt more at home in U.S.A. I have hence traveled to 316 places in 130 countries, traversed the U.S.A. (and Turkey) by car, train, bus and plane, visiting most major national parks; wrote my book of family history and a 400-page diary to boot; prepared a web site with 648 pages and nearly 15,000 photos, and came to the realization that aside from my parents and sisters, daughter Belinda, and one or two old friends from college, I am happier to be alone, also to preserve my sense of romance and adventure, and the freedom to dance to my own tune. For us, this self-actualization process had started in 1958. Parents paid homage to their years and memories in Turkey by maintaining their Turkish citizenship for life, but they remained in U.S.A.

Suggestion about better stories in MyFord Magazine

I just received the Spring 2014 issue and read it cover-to-cover.  The articles are all well written, as they were in the prior Winter 2014 issue.  In the latter, "America's Most Dangerous Road" by Jeff Wise and "Chopper Support" by Kent Black were especially noteworthy, as the autos involved in the stories, Ford Explorer and Ford F150, etc., were appropriate.  They fit their stories.  But in this case, "Driving the Keys" by Daniel Byrne, though written well, was less convincing.  For one, does one really need to drive a C-Max Hybrid to enjoy the Keys?  I did the same trip 10 years ago, driving my 5-year-old Chevy Geo, visiting most of the same places, and enjoyed the trip as much as your writer.  That is, the car is really irrelevant to the story.  Many motorcycle guys will probably say the same.  Now if the trip was taken in a sexy Mustang Convertible with a nice-looking woman as company, the car would be right; it would have made the journey interesting, romantic and exciting enough to highlight the value of the Mustang Convertible on such a gorgeous trip.  But a C-Max?  Well, OK, perhaps for a retired couple . . .

Sincerely,

Sirman Celayir

P.S. I now drive a black 2007 Ford Focus (basic), which, to me, is still the best-looking hatchback of any on the road.  (I took it cross-country from Jacksonville, Florida via Interstate-10 to LA to one sister, back via Interstate-70 to my other sister in Virginia., and returned home via Interstate-95.  Whatever you do to Focus, keep its shape.

Web Site:http://sirman.net;  My Book of Family History: http://www.sirman.net/celayirs/zbook1.html

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Letter to an old girlfriend,

In your "Parallel Paths" blog, you exclaim how life is, we come and go, do we matter? Do I matter, that you are not certain that you do or will, if someone will say "Gayle of blessed memory . . ."  These are ageless questions probably most people, especially those who are religious and believe in an afterlife, would want to know, but never will know.

Let's be analytic and pragmatic.  Movie stars probably come closest to being blessed with perpetual existence, as they were in real life, even if mostly in the roles they portrayed.  But whatever role he played, Clark Gable will remain Clark Gable, also under the glow of Rhett Butler.  Next to these will be some musicians, entertainers and artists, like Edith Piaff, who will be remembered mostly thru their work.  Then there will be some famous names, like Alexander the Great, Beethoven and Einstein who will be celebrated entirely for their accomplishments, regardless of what they looked like or their real lives.

For most of us, your inquiry will be relevant at most in this life, (I believe) inconsequential thereafter.  We will be one of the billions of nameless beings who passed thru this world and then departed, before us, with us, after us.   This is true even those with children and grandchildren.  They will be remembered by select few years longer than those without offspring, but eventually they too join oblivion.  Take Anne, who is 30 years or one generation older than you.  She has 3 children, 5 grandchildren and 4 great-grandchildren.  To the latter 4, she is merely an old lady they know they should respect, about whom they really know next to nothing.  To the 5 grandchildren she is more of a person, about whom they know bits and pieces of a few disconnected facts and history, but that's that. She matters much more to me and my sisters.  Being from the Mid-East, we are much more involved with our parents in old age, like the fact that we would never allow them, for example, to join a nursing home.  Because my sisters are married and have their own lives and families, Anne is most comfortable being with me, also to guide me in the care of Belinda.  She has no medical complaints, but is much slower now  and careful of maintaining her balance.  Having served her purpose in life, which was focussed exclusively on our welfare, I feel she is now awaiting death, so to speak, though the little girl in her still wants to do exiting things, even just in thought, the adult and parent in her still curious about events, news and happenings.

Literally 100s of people have crossed her path, but 2 of her 6 close childhood friends in Turkey are now dead.  She left Turkey 22 years ago, so we are no longer connected to the daily lives of remaining family and old friends.  Some of them call once or twice a year; we do the same.  Other than that it is just memories of once upon a time  . . .  Everyone is busy with their own lives and dreams; soon only my sisters and I will remember Anne in a meaningful way; after we are gone, she will be reduced to a name (if people can remember Zekiye) and the fact that she came from Turkey; in a few decades she will not matter, we will not matter, foremost because there will not be anyone we knew still alive to care . . .  So even the memories do not last.  I spread around enough photos and narrative of us on the Internet, just in case someone unknown to us becomes curious, or just so that there is a story of Anne somewhere, maybe to be found.  You see, even karma cannot operate in a vacuum.  I gave it a tiny arena to function.   

Web Site: http://sirman.net; My Book of Family History: http://www.sirman.net/celayirs/zbook1.html

G+Albums: https://plus.google.com/u/0/photos/103300447272918853693/albums

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YouTube & Facebook: search for Sirman Celayir

Download AsterPro Astrology Software: http://www.sirman.net/celayirs/astrology/FILES

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Malaysian Airline Flight 370, March 2014

The disappearance of Flight 370 has brought to the forefront how glaringly backward airline safety still is. If we only could get the black box from that flight in our hands, we would know all the relevant variables as to how the plane was performing and what the pilots were saying when the plane vanished. Yes, if! That is, if we had a way of first finding the plane. After months of debate about how the NSA can listen, collect and record data of all telephone calls, all email, all messages around the world continuously, about controlling gadgets on the Moon and Mars from Earth, and other miraculous technical capabilities, we are now stunned by the news that an essential component of airline security is still in Dark Ages. Foremost: 1) Why are all commercial airlines NOT equipped with a signal sending mechanism that are unique to that aircraft and independent of any external interference, including the pilots, that continuously identifies the whereabouts of that plane from the time it takes off and until it arrives at its destination, and why are there no tracking stations along the way and/or satellites that receive the signals and alert stations if something is amiss? 2) why is there no transponder on the plane that takes over automatically, independent from the pilots, especially if there is no communication from the pilots? 3) As a corollary, why are pilots able to turn off transponders in the middle of a flight? 4) How is it possible that the FAA, Boeing, someone have not considered the possibility that the “safest” plane supposedly with all sorts of safety redundancies built in could vanish as it did?

Sirman Celayir

Fernandina, Florida

Shameful Academy Awards March 2, 2014

The award show was excellent, Ellen DeGeneres was superb, better than any previous male host.  Alas, there was one incidence of a glaring error: when Kim Novak came onstage, everyone should have gotten on their feet and given her a standing ovation, as they did with Sidney Poitier.  In her day, from Picnic (1955) through Vertigo (1958) and Of Human Bondage (1964), she was one of the most beautiful women and one of the best actresses ever to grace the screen. And she should have been paired, if with anyone, with someone more prominent, like Robert De Niro (if not with Sidney Poitier), certainly not with Matthew McConaughey, who did not have maturity to treat her with due reverence as did Angelina Jolie Sidney Poitier. Shame on the organizers.  

The real count of Olympic medals

Now that the 2014 Winter Olympic games in Sochi are over, the media will publish the final count of the medals won by participating countries.   Let us now also look at medal counts from a more meaningful and consequential perspective.  On the surface, the USA with 28 medals is second only to Russia with 33 medals.  Not bad.  But it is also true that 28 medals for a population of 318 million (2013) means one medal for every 11,342,357 Americans.  Seen from this perspective, a tiny country like Norway with only 5.1 million people and 26 medals (not to mention more gold than Americans), would mean a medal for every 197,565 Norwegians.  The same is true for the Netherlands with 6.3 million population and 24 medals, which translates to a medal for every 263,103 citizens of that country.  In North America, Canada's 35.2 million citizens and 25 medals translates to a medal for every 1,406,332  Canadians.  One consequence of the medal counts as seen from this perspective is that the Canadians are roughly 8 times more, the Norwegians about 57 times more likely to produce a top-notch winter athlete than Americans.  Even the hard-drinking and economically less-well-off Russians are some 2.6 times more productive than Americans.

It is true that the USA does produce athletes in some categories, for example football, bowling, golf, auto racing, that are not universally recognized as athletics, though, of course, many football players, especially running backs, wide receivers, safeties and corners, are quite athletic, though not specifically in winter sports. (By the same token, one can question why and how curling and sled riding qualify as Olympic athletic events.)  It is also true that the majority of American athletes cater to sports where they can make lots of money.  On the other hand, this too is not a sure bet, as we have seen with the American hockey team.  Take away the foreigners from the professional teams, it would seem that the best of native American hockey players qualify only as a fourth rate team, so much so that one wonders how the American men's team would do against Canadian women's team, for example--hard checking not allowed.  Yes, the men would likely win, but would the score be much worse than the men's 5-0 loss to Finland?  if not necessarily, then perhaps hockey could become the first uni-sex competition included in Winter Olympics or as occasional challenge.