On ‘Hallelujah,’ the split-screen Gaza nightmare and basking in Jerusalem sunshine

 

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15 May 2018 | James Porteous | Hawkins Bay Dispatch

By now we are used to the ‘photo opportunity’ masquerading as real news.

The festive opening of the US embassy in Jerusalem was a classic example.

It was all pomp and circumstance against the facade of a classy new ‘embassy’ that apparently will not even be fully operational for some time to come.

But it was important, so very important, to make a statement and to make it on this glorious day.

The day was meant to celebrate independence, not catastrophe.

And damnit all, it would be picture-perfect photo-op no matter what.

Well, almost picture perfect.

Those of us watching from the comfort of our own homes, nursing Latte #2, were treated to a rather disconcerting split-screen nightmare.

While the ‘elites’ basked in the glorious sunlight that is the true sign of real freedom, we fought to block the images of ‘the other side’ who seemed to be drowning in their own blood?

Good lord. How dare they thrust their contensious views on us!

How dare they force us to push aside all those niggling questions about what the fuck was actually going on ‘out there.’

And so we waited in vain for some ‘official confirmation,’ even if only from a TV commentator, to assure us that we were not in fact witnessing an actual massacre of actual innocent people! Live on TV!

But no. The bloodshed was barely acknowledged.

We could do little more than tusk-tusk every time the latest ‘this just in’ reports indicated that the death toll had once again increased.

We grimace each time the camera panned to The Official Robotic Couple (TM ) who did not appear to know what was going on in Jerusalem, let alone in the rest of Israel.

And then towards the end of the ‘celebration’ a singer took the ‘stage’ and embarked on a typically heartfelt-felt rendering of -wait for it- Jeff Buckley’s modern-day classic, Hallelujah.

Oh yes, we thought! Finally, some yummy yummy comfort food. An easy-peasy sure-fire way to help us ‘make sense of it all.’ By not making sense of anything at all!

Oh, blessed youth. First kisses. Falling asleep in the park. Belting out the lyrics to the song in the shower or that neat party you held in the basement for your real friends who understood ‘good music.’

Hallelujah.

“Maybe there’s a God above / But all I’ve ever learned from love / Was how to shoot somebody who outdrew ya…”

Oh dear. That was a tad awkward. Perhaps the guy they hired to organize the ‘celebration’ had not actually read the words to the song.

Or perhaps he was just too plain stupid to know that tugging at heart-strings while watching people die in real-time is not likely to work.

But wait a minute. Maybe new guy knew what he was doing all along.

Oh yes. If only he could see us, leaning back on our couches as we nurse Latte #3, listening intently to the classic tune while absently watching or trying not to watch the split screen mayhem that more-and-more looked like actual death of actual… people.

And look! The First Daughter is tapping her toes to the tune! She is okay. She is sort of one of us.

Back to reality, then. Find the mood. The moment. Think again about the first time you heard the tune.

Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah

Block out the scenes of death. Who needs that kind of action. It does not compute. Not my problem.

Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah

How dare they act up during my song. They will never understand. The power of the moment. The power of The Song.

Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah

That will teach them. They are all terrorists. They will not win this battle. My life is my own. They made their own choices. We all did.

Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah

But baby I’ve been here before
I’ve seen this room and I’ve walked this floor

Hallelujah. Hallelujah.

James Porteous

 

 


 

Hallelujah
Well I’ve heard there was a secret chord
That David played and it pleased the Lord
But you don’t really care for music, do you?
Well it goes like this:
The fourth, the fifth, the minor fall and the major lift
The baffled king composing Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Well your faith was strong but you needed proof
You saw her bathing on the roof
Her beauty and the moonlight overthrew ya
She tied you to her kitchen chair
And she broke your throne and she cut your hair
And from your lips she drew the Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
But baby I’ve been here before
I’ve seen this room and I’ve walked this floor
You know, I used to live alone before I knew ya
And I’ve seen your flag on the marble arch
And love is not a victory march
It’s a cold and it’s a broken
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Well there was a time when you let me know
What’s really going on below
But now you never show that to me do ya
But remember when I moved in you
And the holy dove was moving too
And every breath we drew was
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Maybe there’s a God above
But all I’ve ever learned from love
Was how to shoot somebody who outdrew ya
And it’s not a cry that you hear at night
It’s not somebody who’s seen the light
It’s a cold and it’s a broken
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah

Original Link | Hagit Yaso, Ethio-Jewish Israeli, Singing Hallelujah at the New Opening of U.S. Embassy in Jerusalem

Read This Day from Hawkins Bay Dispatch

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