Fighting Israel for Our Freedom, Minds and Lives

This piece is long and details how Israel destroys the minds, freedom and agency of some of its “mentally ill,” describes the incredible power granted Israel’s psychiatric authorities to incarcerate and forcibly medicate anyone challenging its definitions of reality, the treatment of schizophrenics, an unprotected class representing up to only 1% of the population and the loss of quality of life and the compromising of major functions of the mind and body due to medication used to stop people from seeing and hearing that which the majority do not.

It describes serious problems in Israel I consider an unrecognized human rights violation of those determined by the state to be mentally ill and who are trapped in a hopeless life of pain and misery. It was written going on two days without sleep, as happens, and as I saw incredible and beautiful hallucinations everywhere around me, as happens sometimes.

It is possible to proudly live with this incredible way many experience the world. Many will never be productive for various reasons and live lives without hope. This is a systemic problem and the group affected is without lobby or resources and told their minds are not capable of properly functioning so they live without hope. I was an IDF soldier trained to fight for the Jewish people. Here the Jewish state is destroying them. Much can be done to change this. I am doing it on my own.

The state owes more to those who see and hear angels, demons and God and are told they are broken. All this has happened before and all this is happening again. If only one person of consequence reads this entire piece that would be a victory. We have no voice.

A Homeless Schizo Is Free from the Tyranny of the State

I met a homeless man who is a symbol of hope and I’ll recount the story and then explain the challenges facing those labeled ill in Israel. If we measure our society, in part, by how those deemed unable to think for themselves or to ill to be free are treated, I ask you to patiently read through the end.

A guy on the street I’ve seen around came up to me asking for change today. He had stories of Chassidic happiness and experiences of horror at the hands of the Jewish state for the crime of how his mind perceives reality.

He was missing teeth like an old person and wearing the same clothes I saw him in a day earlier.

“Hey, do you have any change?” he asked.

“Sorry man,” I said, “I’m having a tough time.”

“I’m sick,” he said.

“Brother,” I said, “I’m called a schizophrenic and I’m 50 percent disabled (very high on Israel’s disability index).

“I’m schizophrenic too!” he exclaimed with delight. What — what are you on?” He told me what meds he was on, but I don’t remember. It was like for the first time in far too long he was talking to someone who could get him and actually understand.,

I named a few of the medications I’ve been on going on nearly two years but told him I’m off them now and changing to an as-needed basis. I was receiving anti-psychotic monthly injections even when I was not in any way what psychiatrists of the state call with generous room for definition “psychotic.”

After discussing our meds the homeless guy and I discussed the amounts and types of things we see and hear.

Neither of us challenged validity of what we told each other or claimed truth against the other’s mind, calling it lies

I asked the homeless guy where he sleeps.

“The street,” he said.

“How do you eat?”

“I collect money,” he said. His cup had perhaps five shekels in small coinage.

“You know there are hostels and the homeless apartments,” I told him.

“I can’t deal with them and the people,” he said. I understood. Being in the system is a living hell that robs many of their dignity and self worth and though he was on the street and clearly different than most I could tell he is a high functioning like me — he fell on bad luck.

I told him there’s a club for people who are recognized disabled up the street but the rules require one goes through social workers to be approved for access — they have food and drink and a place to be for many. There are no such clubs that one can go to on his own accord.

The homeless guy told me he preferred living on the street.

I asked the homeless guy if he goes to any of the mental health clinics (most are inconveniently located far from the city center where people on the street or without means would not go anyway. I asked if he went because some offer lunches.

He made a face of pain, misery and disgust and said he stays away from them. They are, after all, filled with those who have been going to them for years, decades, and live a reinforced existence of depression where they voice problems they face — the same problems — day after day and are simply asked by the therapists moderating the group how that makes them feel and they respond with sadness and slump and become further depressed.

I have seen this repeated literally day after day after day and therapists never offer possible solutions to the problems they are facing for months and years as regularly as the sun rises.

There is no effort made in these centers to improve the quality of life of those who cannot work and have accepted as their only identities “mentally ill” without the ability to change anything because they believe nothing is as strong as whatever disease they are told they face and the medical system only teaches them that they are incapable of doing anything to fight their diseases. All they can do is take their pills.

He asked me what hospital they put me. I told him Kfar Shaul.

“Me too!” he said with a big smile.

“Inhumane,” I said to him. “Hell.”

“Yes, he said.

“Maybe we were there together,” he said with a smile as if we were from the same town somewhere so far away it was impossible to meet.

“I hate that place,” I said to him.

He started going on his way and looked back to me.

“Those psychiatrists are Nazis,” I said.

The homeless guy looked in my eyes and nodded. The homeless guy heard what I said, made a face of disgust in agreement and repeated what I said. “Nazis,” he agreed.

He’d been in that abusive hell on earth mental hospital where they literally ask, in Jerusalem, if you talk to God to determine if you are “psychotic” and where I was told my not wanting Internet in my home (I went a year or so without it or a phone) was proof of “psychosis.” Many religious Jews in Israel have no internet or smartphone on religious grounds and are not deemed mentally disturbed by psychiatrists.

The psychotic confirmations which are secured by the psychiatrists asking questions to which they interpret the answers are used for justification to lock someone up. I saw young people say they were prophets and they will not be released until they say they are not, as prophets cannot exist — as determined by rabbis — and the prophets imprisoned will be held until they admit that it is impossible to be a prophet and Jews and Arabs alike are drugged for various conditions into drooling shells of men who are robbed of personhood and told they are sick and must agree and repeat that in order to be released.

The homeless guy and I shared an experience of abusive treatment in an Israeli institution in the Jewish state which swears its soldiers in on bibles in which people see and hear things and that bible is accepted by people in positions of authority as truth, often literal, though few psychiatrists are of the opinion that it is.

He and I are a few people constituting one percent of the population, perhaps less. People generally fear us for the name we are assigned by diagnosis and do not want to hire us and though we present differently in symptoms like paranoia, behaviors, beliefs and capabilities, we are all grouped as one, schizophrenic. Most I’ve met in Israel have no lives of meaningful activity.

But the homeless man showed me happiness and lit up my day. I saw his happiness for simply being free. Free from medication, free from the hospitals and the system and free to know himself and live with his mind as he sees fit, a man. Though poor and hungry and without a home, he was a man free from the system that tried to subdue him.

Many probably hear the way the homeless guy speaks — he sounds almost nervously excited and articulates differently than most, and quickly conclude his mind is not deserving of good faith, perhaps saying to one another he should be “helped,” hospitalized. People do not like seeing people they are told are ill free to interact with them. This is an ugly truth of our society.

The homeless guy, with all his difficulties, so far as his own self, was far more alive and better off than anyone living under the yoke of the system that had tried to break us both. And he is fighting it by living with the belief that he is not ill as they tell us we are. He is a man who sees things that are beautiful and spiritual for him.

“I see holy men when I look into candle flames,” he said to me.

That’s a beautiful thing to see.

I told him he and I are not ill and do not accept that if they try to force him to. He said calling us mentally ill is how they strip us of all self worth.

Society simply can’t have that, cannot allow people like us to be free and challenge conceptions of the rational western world with our understandings and visions and what we hear.

Some of us can live with it and don’t need to be medicated but have to fight for that and only those lucky enough to find a psychiatrist who also believes the self is more valuable than quieting the mind for the sake of the public are fortunate enough to regain their souls as they live off meds.

The rest are not able to be human and live lives of misery from what drugs do to their minds.

The homeless guy and I were just two crazies talking on the street while others like us suffer in the concentration camp of the mind and soul mental hospitals where psychiatrists overload them with medications and designate them unfit to be free.

The Nazis sterilized schizophrenics and then murdered them all. People say that people like the homeless man could be dangerous and should not be allowed to live on the street. He is seen as less than human. Dehumanizing was a weapon of psychiatry during the Holocaust and it is now a consequence of the systematic inhumane treatment schizophrenics receive without thought for the health of their souls. But the soul can not be prove to exist, so it is not real. Psychiatrists decide what is acceptable to believe in.

The Jewish state is failing those who have stories and kindness in the souls that could inspire if only they would not destroy our minds and rob us of self worth.

But I fight that system and will not call myself sick. He went off begging, homeless, and will not call himself sick either.

The homeless guy simply sees holy men in the flames of candles and he was so happy to meet me and talk.

His smile was one of joy when we met.

I told the guy how I saw buildings breathe and expand and i can see time and hear music from stone walls and he smiled. We allowed each other to have our truths.

The homeless guy may be seen as unkept or dirty, looked down upon for begging, but I have learned through experiences with dozens of those called mentally ill in Israel in hospitals, through doctors and intensive five month group therapy, that this homeless man’s mind in no way made him unsuitable to be free.

And he was happier free on the street than he would be cured in the hospital.

I could tell this homeless guy had spirit. He was living a hard life but he was a man living. He had light in his eyes. He was feeling himself, something many of us cannot do under the influence of the meds he and I had been given.

Choosing to Live on the Street and Going Off Meds

I have a friend, a schizophrenic with a masters degree in computer science, who was medicated and suffered horribly saying he normally feels his mind speeding and it was so slow and he couldn’t access parts of it.

As he said the medications slowed his mind to a painful pace, I often describe my natural state since I began seeing and hearing things as thinking far faster than I ever did before about far more things at once, often tens of things at the same time and though my speech or writing may appear chaotic that is due to my mind trying to get so much out so fast that I trip over my own words.

I still work on recognizing when my communications skills are impacted or if I jump subjects in conversation while thinking about so much at once, something incorrectly called loose associations, when people think I am not thinking clearly because I am speaking about different subjects at such speed and conclude that it is a thought problem when in fact I am failing to communicate properly. It requires discipline.

This schizophrenic friend lives with about five or six critical voices and cannot work but now lives free of medications with voices and what would be described as occasional light psychotic periods. He chose a while back to live on the streets for three years. He has five or six voices. I can have tens of thousands of visions and interactions, voices, music and more a day. I have been training myself to not let that affect how I am perceived by others in society. Among friends I talk freely of what I see or hear and tell stories that receive laughs and awe at times. On meds I can barely put thoughts together.

If faced with a hospital or the street I would take to the street like my friend.

Why We Feel the Medications Are Killing Us

Anti-psychotics normally cause me and can cause others deep depression and suicidal states of mind, destroy my creativity, sex drive, personality, sense of humor, sense of happiness and reward and have been causing TD, tardive dyskinesia, an irreversible progressive condition which mimics aspects of Parkinson’s and causes involuntary movements and, for me, periods of stuttering so severe that can leave me unable to speak. They call much of this side effects. I say it is poison destroying my mind to stop me from experiencing the world a certain way and I can train myself to live with it. I was trained as an infantry soldier by the IDF and we learned the incredible power of our minds to push us father than we thought we were able to go. I am simply training myself for a different fight now, one to overcome the state which I defended and is now the danger to my well being.

The homeless man expressed to me in expression and enunciation of medication as one who has been through those poisons understands, that he and I shared the bond of living a life without purpose under their influence.

Without the injection I feel alive again and hope to never have another injection in my life. The benefit of the medication, they say, is that I do not see or hear things others do not. I am “suitable” for public consumption. The West is rational in such matters and I’ve learned that people like me are very often feared, without just cause.

Shutting Down the Brain and Overmedication

The hospitals are where they begin destroying your mind in order to permanently silence what they see as a disturbing factor that challenges the rest of the population by presenting things not understood and which scare those who do not want to believe there are demons running about or that God is talking to people.

The psychiatrists at the hospital where I was treated put me on manic depression mood adjusters, anti-depressants, brain equalizers, and other drugs that were mandated for me until I saw a private doctor in the US, who said I needed none of that and weaned me off them, thank God and a brother for finding that doc.

I was never diagnosed depressed or manic depressive. They over medicated me without telling me what they were giving me. When I asked what they were making me take they ordered sedation to stop me from asking.

I was diagnosed schizo affective and tend towards what is called the manic side though not in the understanding of bipolar mania. I have shared this with everyone in my life. I have set up every relationship I have in my day to day life so that anyone and all feel comfortable asking if I am manic, see something, hear something or if I’m all good.

Creating Rules to Live Off Meds

I have set up rules, frameworks and checks and balances that impress my psychiatrist, one of the few I’ve met who I respect and who sincerely expresses value for the person in the mind of the patient.

This is how I will survive being sent to the hospital in the event I undergo so much sensory overload that I do not think correctly. I have been talking to everyone in my life about so much of this for the last year that they don’t worry at all if I’m seeing things.

In the beginning, people asked if I was okay when I’d act a bit strange or stare into the distance. Then they learned how I am and heard how I think and my stories and learned to see that underneath the appearance of some kind of insanity there is consistent evaluation and categorization, evaluation and problem solving, and we were all soldiers once and they stop worrying.

Now most of those I see regularly rarely ask if something is wrong because of how I am though they do inquire if I’m low on cash or food or need help buying meds or other things.

I have been working a long time to control the challenges mania can present and utilize the immense power it offers in productivity, incredibly fast and multi-pronged thought, ambition and the other aspects some of us are fortunate to enjoy. It is a good challenge. I recommend watching A Beautiful Mind. We can live with our minds free.

Reevaluating How to Approach Those Who Perceive Reality in Opposition to Psychiatrists

Often if someone is seeing or hearing something that most do not they are met with immediate responses by people and psychiatrists that the things the are claiming are not real and they are not in touch with reality.

I believe it creates in someone like us who is a certain way, distrust and paranoia, can incite psychotic thoughts and removes any legitimacy of personal spiritual experience — a staple of freedom of faith in a democratic society — or quality and strength of mind.

This first strike tactic against a person suspected of seeing or hearing that which is not permitted to be experienced by psychiatrists is to tell the person what they describe is not real and they are not in touch with reality.

This is often done without stop in order to assert authority and credibility of a “sane” person and prove that a person seeing or hearing things must be treated whether that person desires treatment or not. I encountered anger from some shortly before my hospitalization.

I believe this should be replaced by a philosophy I thought of, though I am most likely not the first to think of this, of accepting and embracing the reality the person experiencing it experiences, asking and talking about it and recognizing it as a truth for them. I shared this with my psychiatrist.

Before hospitalization I had incorrectly come to certain conclusions about the world that were not true and done so based on the acceptance of information I received through messages I received in certain ways.

That is how psychotic thought becomes psychotic behavior. I would sit and think for hours and not eat and my situation deteriorated as I lost weight. Starring and thinking is not psychotic. I left my job because I believed Zyklon B gas used by the Nazis in WWII was being pumped into the ventilation system. That is a psychotic decision. Psychotic does not have to have a dangerous aspect to it.

This is how I am understanding the world and the words used to simplify how people like me are treated. Nothing with us is simple. We think so much faster and perceive so much more than the majority of the population we can stay up for days, at least I can.

But most schizophrenics do not experience up to tens of thousands of beings and voices while seeing stationary objects dancing or moving and space time change in front of them as light curves and certain places appear fuzzy because space time has holes in it and needs repair just like the rest of nature. This is how I understood the world while quietly walking around smoking cigarettes. Most schizos I meet have three to ten repeating images or voices.

I had hundreds of thousands repeating and because I heard God tell me I was forbidden from writing any of the information or conclusions I came to down I decided to create my own hieroglyphs and made thousands of them filling booklets upon booklets and up until I was given my first injection at the hospital I knew what each hieroglyph meant and remembered exactly why I made them as I did. I was keeping records in picture form. The meds have destroyed my memory for nearly two years but it is coming back.

God Knows What’s Happening, as I Heard Him in My Reality

God would always say to me, “Shmuel, one day they are going to catch you and take you somewhere and they will do something to your mind and you will not hear me anymore and I refuse to go the place they will take you because it reminds me of the Holocaust because of the ease with which they are destroying my favorite little creations special minds I made for them and killing their souls and then after they hurt your mind you will forget. But then you will remember.” I didn’t know why God was telling me this six months before I was taken to the hospital. And off meds I remember more and more faster and faster all the time.

I’d made it nearly two years without being caught because the angels I spoke with told me through a rock and roll radio station very early on to never speak to them or anything else out loud. I was told to think my thoughts and they would hear and then respond and I would hear them as you hear anyone else. I, of course, mentioned none of this at the hospital. Shrinks will say the angels were me telling myself. So I’m clever.

The Enormous Power of Israeli Psychiatry to Determine Reality and Incarcerate

It must be remembered that the psychiatrists cannot prove the truths of reality experienced by a patient in their care are not real, that some people see the unexplained, but insist the person who has lived this truth renounce it.

The psychiatrists decide what is acceptable belief and have the power to incarcerate. They can take away freedom yet are not officially part of the security or legal establishment. They asked me if I talked to God to determine psychosis. The asked why I didn’t want to use the Internet.

They asked questions and then just said out loud, “psychosis.” They have their conclusion determined regardless of what the answers are because “psychosis” is a word that they define and that word means involuntary stay and forced medication. They asked if I had any aspirations. I said it would be nice to work again in archeology and I’d like to do so in Egypt at the pyramids. They said that was psychotic thinking because Egypt is an Arab country and it was too dangerous for a Jew.

They use scare tactics against patients to secure signatures of agreement on a legal document from a person deemed unable to be free for reasons of mental health without counsel present. They did this to me telling me if I did not sign a form agreeing to be in the hospital I could be there a year. Sign and I could be out in a week. Everybody signs. It is the way of the Ministry of Truth health care system.

Defining Us as Dangerous

I once had a hearing related to mandatory psychiatric observation and the state prosecutor facing me said I presented a public danger, citing an instance when I had knocked on my neighbors’ doors. “Yes,” I said, “I knocked because I wanted to speak to them.” When one hears and sees that which most do not anything he does can be interpreted and presented as something dangerous because, I assert, there is only fear of how we are and little to no effort to understand the complexities of how we exist.

So the person who sits and stares knocked on a door and that is called a public danger. We are robbed of our agency with the designation of those who do not understand reality rather than understanding that we do see reality, but we see it differently.

The Four Possibilities That Cannot Be Disproven

Either it is all real, it is all in our heads, it is a mix or we do not know and not one of those assertions can be disproven by any psychiatrist. A color blind person sees brown while everyone else sees red. The true color is defined as red because the majority see it as red. Reality can be perceived differently. I see colors at times when I hear music. That is my reality.

I suggested an alternative to challenging and refuting realities experienced by schizos to my psychiatrist and she adopted it in a group therapy session where a young Ethiopian man was telling me, some other schizos, some manic depressives and others that he was possessed by a dybbuk, a demon.

I spoke to the Ethiopian guy in that group about his dybbuk. I asked about it. His anxiety level dropped as we talked and he became more open to answering questions from the psychiatrist. We showed good faith and trust in him. We just talked. Like me and the homeless guy.

One Flew Over the Schizo Nest: I Cause a Rebellion Against the Therapists in Group and the Patients Realize They’re Being Had Day After Day

I once told the therapists in a group that they were only making people more depressed and never offered solutions to problems. This was not therapy it was an infinite endless spiral of depression. “Shmuel is right!” one participant exclaimed. “All you do is ask us how we feel and to talk about our sadness!” “Shmuel is right!” a second yelled.

“You don’t help us you only tell us every day to talk about our feelings!” More participants began fighting back.

One therapist took over the conversation.”We all heard Shmuel and Shmuel, we see you are angry,” she said. I stopped her cold.

“Don’t pull that on me,” I said. “I am not angry nor did I exhibit any behavior that would be considered anger or raise my voice. Do not try to discredit my conclusion by suggesting that my comments are due to an emotional response that I am not controlling. That is your masters degree training talking as you try to defend yourself by discrediting me and everyone who agrees with me. You are only talking about feelings, again, and you are wrong about mine.”

“Shmuel is right!” A few yelled. “Don’t say he’s angry! He’s not yelling” The group was not accepting the daily dose of regurgitated feelings and depression today. And then the therapist announced time was running out without ever regaining their ability to run the discussion and I walked out smiling because people fought back.

Psychiatrists Teach the Patients The Rules of Understanding Their Place and  Inform Them that They Are Incapable of Using Their Minds

Often the doctors in the Israeli mental institutions offer no explanation to someone of what is happening to them as they forcibly are given injections and ordered to swallow pills without being told what they are or will do and those forcibly medicated are told they do not understand truth and reality and all this culminates and ultimately leave people believing they are not capable of responsible thought.

It is simple negative reinforcement for the purpose of acquiescence. And those now called sick must be resigned to their new status as mentally ill without a mind to trust, and admit only the psychiatrists now what is real, what is right for them. And then, they can leave.

It reminds me of room 101 in 1984. We may leave the hospitals, but only if our minds are dead. The truth was never what we knew and always as they say it was. Accept it in order to leave. Repeat it to understand your place. Deny it and you may not be able to leave.

Living a Better Life with a Free Mind

I have a home, thank God. I work part-time and my boss was my sergeant in the army and we served together as security officers during university, back when I was weapons approved. He is understanding if I decide I have a day that I see too much to work in an industrial kitchen. During my extremely suicidal periods caused by the medication, he helped my by telling me I had no choice but to work through it. Still my sergeant.

I contend it is possible to believe in and live with the experiences we have and it is society and psychiatry that must admit that just as science is an abundance of queries to explain the unknown so no person of science should mandate a renouncing of faith or spirituality based on the definitions of reality created by those people of science, who cannot prove that our experiences are not real.

There is room for modest acceptance of truth while living in the reality that all those not us know.

Thanks to those who have and keep helping me with a few sheks or a push here or there or cigs when I’m broke, I make it by with a little help from my friends. I was out of work for 18 months. I’m back in life now and work part time and receive disability. But I couldn’t make it without help from a few friends. That is Israel at its best. I will not call what I have an illness but it does present challenges 99% or more of the population do not encounter so disability is awarded by the state, but for someone unable to work it is not enough to survive. People need more assistance, especially those like me who gave nearly 15 years of reserves as a combat soldier after mandatory IDF service. We deserve to be treated better after putting our lives on the line for the state.

I used to hear God. I never told anyone that until months after I was released from the hospital. God told me he was very unhappy with what was happening to his most favorite special little creations in Israel with special brains he made just for them when they are taken to certain places in Israel and their minds and souls destroyed.

I figured out after they got me what he was talking about. I’m not a prophet. I never thought I was or claimed to be. God even told me I wasn’t a prophet. “No more prophets, Shmuel,” he said to me. “They hate my prophets. They will chase them all over again. No, I’m teaching you and others like you how to see the hidden world and understand it like the ancients. You’re a code breaker, my little secret agent but not a prophet.” But maybe he has prophets, and maybe they’re locked up. Jewish governments going after people claiming to be prophets is an old game. All this has happened before, and all this his happening again.

I’m no moral authority. I’m just a guy whose mind works differently and whose day was brightened by a free homeless man on the street who is an example of how our society is allowing those like him to be discarded. But he smiled a smile of happiness that no one on the meds they use could ever express. That’s the truth.

We are very few and we deserve to live free lives with training to understand our world and compassion, not fear. Our minds do amazing things for those who believe none of it is real.

I have plenty of friends who, after hearing dozens to hundreds of hours of my stories over the last year, tell me they believe I truly was seeing and talking to angels. I have met Kabbalists who ask how I know understandings and secrets that only those who study decades can comprehend.

“I talked to the demons and ask why they’re acting a certain way and then figure out which ones are which and when the demons say they are going after all the Kaballah people for trying to steal God’s secrets without permission I remember that God forbid me from learning Kaballah so thankfully I don’t have this and that type doing this and that in my house.” And the the Kaballah folk, only very few, say, “I truly believe you were speaking with angels.”

But the psychiatrists say that isn’t possible.

Psychiatrists in Israel Would Commit Every One of God’s Prophets and Make War on Him

I once asked my psychiatrist what would happen if God spoke to everyone in Israel and the psychiatrists heard him and it was clear beyond a doubt that it was God spoke. “Hello all my little creations, this is God, the Creator of the Universe. I would like to tell you that I’ve brought prophets back into the world and I would like all of you in Israel to treat them well and with respect. That is all I’ll be around.” And what if the morning after God spoke and all heard him 30 people in Israel stood up and said they were prophets?

My psychiatrist didn’t hesitate a second. “They would all be institutionalized and medicated.”

“But everyone heard him, even the psychiatrists,” I protested.

“It doesn’t matter,” she said. “God could say anything he wanted. There is no way the psychiatrists in Israel would allow a challenge to their authority like that. They would make war on God and every prophet. You have no idea how much power psychiatrists have in Israel. They would never give that up and allow prophets to be free.” She raised her hands with palms upward and smiled a frown. “The state had given them enormous power. They are trying to take some of it away now, reform the system, but the psychiatrists are fighting it every inch of the way.”

His prophets would be committed.

I was once laying on my couch and heard God. “Shmuel,” he said, “you are a prophet.” I shot half way up scared out of my mind and said out loud, “Fuck me!”

Then God said, “Shmuel, you’re not a prophet. I just had to show you what you would feel in the state of Israel if you were one. I will never bring back my prophets, Shmuel. They would chase them down. They hate prophets. I’m doing something different now, something with you and 20,000 like you.

“But you are the best at what I am teaching you with my angels and spirits and the rest. You can do things no one else can do. You understand naturally and think as I want my creations to think and you can do things those using my Kaballah can’t even imagine. You are learning the way of the ancients, from before the texts.

“I am opening my secrets to you and the others. You’re going to do something big one day, Shmuel. I can’t tell you what because then you would know the future. No more prophets, Shmuel. No more prophets. Today you’re a code breaker. The world is nothing but codes. You will learn to see them. You can unlock the world just by looking, listening and thinking, Shmuel. No one else in the world can do what you can do. Imagination, Shmuel. It is the key to everything. And they don’t have it.”

I hope the 20,000 others are all doin alright.

The Moshad is Operational at a Mike’s Place Tel Aviv Cause God Needed Someplace Inconspicuous to Run Intel Operations and I said Mike’s Tel Aviv 

Today I saw some things. And remembered something. I designated Mike’s Place Tel Aviv a spiritual center for intelligence gathering when I was helping God create an organization to gather intelligence in coordination with angels through simply thinking and understanding and occasionally looking at maps or watching the news or listening to what people say here and there and finding patterns – words accentuated out of place heard ten minutes apart but together forming the name of a region and later the same thing happens and you hear more relevant information. Misplaced accents on words in a sentence always stick out and grab my attention. So you figure it out and just kind of put it out there and an angel takes it and does something with it.
God was mad at the Mossad and said all intelligence was his. So he got a bunch of drinking, drugging and secular loyal folk like me and and made us into the Moshad. He wanted the Moshad to outdue the Mossad because the Mossad was doing things that were angering God. So I suggested he call his agency the Moshad, just to make it confusing. Cause when you hear things everywhere you start hearing Moshad a lot. I thought it was hilarious.
No one in the Moshad ever did anything operational. We just get all this intel. Then the angels take it and I think the real important stuff gets to the Mossad through angel delivery and they think they find it. Meanwhile the rest of us stay poor and get hospitalized and in the end you see and hear patterns everywhere and the world becomes an information super market.
“I’m changing things, Shmuel, I’m staring the change and they will not like it but all of you are part of it. I’m changing things. It’s my state, my intelligence, my army, my Torah, my creations. The ones in power are making me angry, Shmuel. So I’m changing things the way I do it.”
I always forget I created the Moshad for God and I think I’m in it for life. So I’m not a prophet. I’m a code breaking Moshad spy who does stuff the Mossad can’t. Israel hates prophets. And the Moshad is everywhere apparently. Only God knows who the agents are. God and Downtown.
I told God to make my buddy a Mike’s owner Dave Beck one of the head handlers for his secret Moshad agents and he did. I forgot to ever mention it to Dave. The meds make me forget a lot.
I figured Mike’s was the best place to hide out in the open and Tel Aviv is safer than Jerusalem for people like us.
So congrats, Downtown and Mike’s Place Tel Aviv. You are God’s Intel Headquarters. God is probably hanging out there tonight.
Now who would believe a thing like that is possible?

 

 

About the Author
Greg Tepper moved to Israel in 1997 from the United States. He served in an IDF combat unit and completed approximately 15 years of reserve duty until he was discharged at 38. He used to write news for the Times of Israel and other publications and is now focusing on fiction inspired by his experiences in a schizophrenic psychosis in Jerusalem for the duration of a year.
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