Hear, O Israel: The Lord our God, the Lord is Red

Both sexes received acne as an evolutionary advantage designed to protect them until mental maturity, otherwise this evolutionary disadvantage would have long been extinct, and this is also the evolutionary advantage of ugliness. And the girl moves her hands in panic in a kind of fluttering of a cooing dove whose wings have been caught, as if I had caught her doing something no one had seen or was supposed to see. And I say: Ugliness is a protective armor from the world, you understand? It's very comforting, isn't it? I should thank God for my face. That's why the exilic Jew grew a nose, and a disheveled beard, and fur on his back, and a drooping tail, and became mouse-like

The Fall of Man and the Rise of Red  (Source)

The Red Era
I dreamed that the sun wiped apple fragments, and wine sprayed from the heavens - God's secrets. And I wanted to open my mouth - but I was blocked. And I so much my mouth - but quiet, shush, who are you. My mouth - but there was no one to listen/hear/something. And the wine spilled on the ground, like a blood donation that begins to replace the patient, and to flow, to get out of control, to take all the blood from inside and pour and pour and donate and donate, the good God trying to revive the world, the dead world, the boring one, with his blood, but a flood occurs, the plumbing no longer stands (from too much rust), mixing with red, all kinds of pipes from the sky that stood unused, only brought down water, so is it a wonder it rusted? God is trying to donate (where were you until now?) to the sick world. Thinks it's not too late. Still possible. Abundance. Still possible divine abundance (for Him it's always a flood - of blood). All the pipes of abundance - blocked righteous ones - no one has any sense. To absorb the divine intellect. That's why the intellect goes down to their hands. All the intellect enters the hands, because there's no head. All the intellect turns into technology, and they do, and do, and don't know what they're doing, and do. God thinks - and oops an invention comes out. Instead of inspiration. And another invention and another invention like this (many thoughts in God's heart - and man's counsel shall stand). Everything God tries to bring down to the world comes out of the hands. Simply no longer from the mouth, there are no more prophets, the prophecies are simply at the fingertips. Even those who write, it's just writing technology. It's just technology. Therefore, it's not wine. The hands are very close to blood. This is from the dawn of history. But even the blood - we really thought - maybe red. But only the red remains from the blood. It's blood without a human, God's blood is simply color. Red. Red. Red. Everything becomes red. The nipples. The headlines. It's a kind of flood where everything is the same color and you can't see anything anymore. The earth is red the man is red the button is red the books are red the sky is red God is red - everything is the same. And the red warnings mix with blood the red lights turn on, one after another, red in red will be spilled, stop light, until even hypocrisy itself: red color. And the red parade turns into a crusade: social grill networks glowing shamelessly (shame), and the regular weekend lynchings, and even the priests are red (a priest is very important to be white), and the sacrifices (funny) and the red cows are red (holy? must be slaughtered), it becomes a very tempting color (red letters very!). Even little girls prefer pink, to start hinting, towards the great red, and the red shoes. And the red dresses. And the movies. And the carpets. And the women of course... And the women (of course...) and the nails and the lips and the holes and the insides (very red) and sex glows red most of all - and bravery itself. Even rust is red. And here I look at my stained shirt and see: Red Star of David [Translator's note: Magen David Adom, Israel's national emergency medical service].

Volunteering in MDA [Magen David Adom]
I dreamed that I was walking alone on a path, and heard crying from within a ruin. And a sad girl, with a red face that we should not know, told me: How is it possible that acne survived evolution? How can it be that in our days I still look like this? I immediately understood that she was testing me and answered: Uniquely in nature, the mental maturation of the human animal appears many long years after its sexual maturation, which stems from the need to integrate sexuality into its mental maturation, in one concept of knowledge. Otherwise it will destroy everything when it suddenly appears at the end, because what do you think will happen to the philosopher man? All his intellect will disappear when he sees breasts, and the abstract intellect will simply rape. You wouldn't want that, right? And the girl opens her eyes wide, and I see that I'm interesting her so I continue: Precisely because of the power of human sexuality there was a need to advance its appearance in relation to the completion of his maturation, because only many years of maturation will be able to handle it, and that's why male maturation is slower (and that's why you feel that boys your age are children), and on the other hand women received virginity to help protect them (it's forbidden to say this). And both sexes received acne as an evolutionary advantage designed to protect them until mental maturity, otherwise this evolutionary disadvantage would have long been extinct, and this is also the evolutionary advantage of ugliness. And the girl moves her hands in panic in a kind of fluttering of a cooing dove whose wings have been caught, as if I had caught her doing something no one had seen or was supposed to see. And I say: Ugliness is a protective armor from the world, you understand? It's very comforting, isn't it? I should thank God for my face. That's why the exilic Jew grew a nose, and a disheveled beard, and fur on his back, and a drooping tail, and became mouse-like - to protect himself from the eye inside the hole. All the beauty he kept inside, inside his burrow, books upon books buried in the earth. And that's exactly what we need to do in our ugly era, hide everything from the world! Give me your hand - and together we'll establish a glorious race of red inner beauty. In the dark, no one sees how we look. And I look deep into her black eyes - we will see the world from within the hole, while from its perspective we will be a black hole. And inside the den we'll celebrate, two mice, the fur underground. We won't remember our faces - together we'll screw the system and all the naked beauties. Just you and me and no one will know. We'll hide, we'll reverse back the sin of knowledge, my red flower! And I raise my head to the red apple she has instead of a head - and the girl runs away. And I peek out of the ruin, and don't see even a red dot on the horizon: The red dove has flown away.

The Red Army Choir
I dreamed that I continue to walk on the red paths in this red red world, and I make a mistake in turning, maybe this is actually the road to hell. And here's one mistake too many, which is actually an attempt to correct one mistake too few - and I encounter fake reds from all directions. And they are angry at me, the good people, their faces are red (or reds), and I'm a parasite. You came to suck our blood, leech! And I say: I'm from a different era! In the Middle Ages, a leech was good for health. Even today you can donate blood to MDA [Magen David Adom], and then replenish the iron with red meat. Want to? And they take off shirts and warm each other up: Where does he get money for red meat, money is blood. And I ask: Man? And they turn even redder: Money is the blood of the world - because that's what flows in the arteries of the world. It's our blood with him! Whoever spills the blood of the state - money nowadays - is killing its soul, because money is the soul. The voice of my country's blood cries out from the ground (they hear their beloved land crying out), and they feel smart and get worked up: Blood money, double meaning, double meaning, double meaning! (I counted three times). And I hop back like a flea, and the mass wave of blood approaches me, and I look for some fur shtreimel [traditional Hasidic hat] to hide in from it. But here up close they're not just rioters, this mob is not of criminals God forbid, but of judges and policemen. And one grabs me by the hand, and explains to me that I was completely wrong about them, that they're actually not capitalists, and that I'm lucky. They don't care about money at all! These are red flag. And I say: Exactly, Your Honor! Capitalists don't care that I'm poor, on the contrary they enjoy that I have no money, because it shows that they have. They like to shine against a black background. But the working class cares about only one thing - that I don't work. The curse of work, when they were expelled from the Garden of Eden, became for them morality, and the sweat of the brow became the good measure. The punishment became the aspiration! It's as if the snake would make an ideology out of having no legs, because not crawling is immoral, you can step on others who are down in the ground and you don't care, and therefore you deserve to be bitten in the heel - and this is the doctrine of the snake after the Garden of Eden. But that one doesn't let go of his grip: Have we reached the Messianic era? Bread doesn't yet grow on trees, like in the Garden of Eden, you live at the expense of the outside world - at my expense, because I am the outside world! And now it's my turn to catch him red-handed: So the problem is that I live like in the Messianic era and you live in exile? That you're after the sin and I live before it? That I left Egypt and you stayed to build the pyramids? That I'm simply above it (and therefore maybe above you)? Your problem with me is logical: The very fact of my existence refutes you. Because the fact is that I don't work, and still exist, and that doesn't fit with I work therefore I exist. Therefore my very existence must be at your expense, it's a simple calculation. I - a scandal. Not working - and not dead. And the judge really heats up: I'll show you what dead is. And they start to beat and I cry out: This anger of yours is simply because I'm pulling the rug out from under what you don't want to know about yourself - that you don't have to work. That you're a consciousness slave, and not really enslaved, as you'd like to be. The chains are inside the head, and that really bothers you - that the hands aren't in chains. And they handcuff me and kick me and I explain to whoever is listening (I can no longer see): In the end it's a class issue. I'm below you but above you, that's what drives you crazy. That I'm Jewish, meaning aristocratic, from a higher class than you, despite the fact that the monetary class (namely according to the red doctrine the real class) is lower than you to dust. I live an aristocratic life: just reading, and writing, and learning, and not working. I've never worked a day in my life - I live inside culture, and not inside the economy. And the oppressors drag me on the ground in a sack of potatoes and I orate to the anonymous oppressor: What really bothers you is that class is not a matter of money. Spiritually you are in a class below me, despite being much richer than me, you have a slave consciousness. And slaves very much like to be masters. I'm telling you this, because I have a master consciousness. This is what God really wants from us - consciousness of the Lord of Hosts. Unrealistic consciousness. Because even when God is buried deep in the ground - He is still above everyone. Like an apple.

Post Humanism
I dreamed that I sinned in a sin that has no name - a sin of a potato. And my fall begins, deep into the ground, like descending in an elevator below the red line. Below the lowest floor - the elevator continues to descend. And how hard it will be to rise from here. On the other hand, according to the theory of relativity, since I'm in an elevator in free fall, there's no difference between this and the earth rising to the sky. It's exactly the same as the sky falling to the earth. Meaning, in the end of days, since there's no point of reference, it will be impossible to distinguish between a tremendous ascension of the earth and a tremendous fall of the sky. The coupling between them - is the end, just as the separation between them was the beginning. It will not be possible to know if God comes to the mountain - or the mountain comes to God. And this was actually the plan - and here I'm already arriving at the tomb floor. And two glowing red seraphs guard it, and the revolving sword turns again and again and again and turns and turns and I realize that I didn't count and I no longer know what's up what's down what's down what's down. And that's it, everything got messed up in my hands, or maybe feet? The new reality is that there's no difference between earth and sky. Super-symmetry. And therefore you can be buried in the sky - and not just in the ground. And the right angel says to the left: Look what a leftist traitor has arrived. And the left angel answers: He actually looks like a barbaric rightist to me. And I say to them: You're both right! Haven't you heard there's supersymmetry? I can be both a traitor and barbaric. Both sensitive and ruthless, and vice versa, and vice versa, I can flip on you - and also remain loyal to you. Not just the up and down but also the sides. There's no more right and left. No bravery and no grace. And the right angel says: This must be a leftist pretending to be rightist. From the other side. And the left one says: No, I don't recognize him from our side, this is a rightist pretending to be a leftist pretending to be a rightist. And I say: Haven't you heard that this is no longer relevant? What are you still guarding? No one wants to enter the Garden of Eden anymore. You just stayed here to guard for nothing. They forgot you here. And the one on the left says: We really haven't seen anyone. And the one on the right says: But this is just a plot of the left, to put us to sleep. And the one on the left side answers: You're naive. Don't you see what's hiding - behind what you see? The real plot is not to put us to sleep, but to confuse between sleep and wakefulness and between dream and reality. And I ask what's inside, what are you telling behind the curtain. And the left one says: Man is lost. And the right one says: Only culture remains. And the left one rises up: Man is dead. And the right one praises and says: Blessed be the name of His glorious kingdom for ever and ever.

And Judah Approached
I dreamed that I approach the angels: You see what I have on my chest, it's not a nipple, I'm going to nurse babies with blood, I wrote a whole world in red ink. To protect the red. Because since Jews only go out with a patch on their heart, a terrible cheapening of the color has begun, and red is free for all, spilled like Jewish blood. Not only the sins in red. Even the corrections in red. Not only the blood - even the ambulance. Everything flashes. Treading its way, remember? God rose from red - like the sun - and sets in red, now it's really the end. Enough being just an endless red light - when there's no one driving - and you stop the only pedestrian. History has long moved on, I came to save the red from the red itself. And the left one argues: You understand? Thousands of years standing here - just to let the first one enter. And the right one warns (they talk about me above me - and don't look at me, busy only with the revolving sword between them): This is the oldest trick in the book, to pretend to be rescue forces - and carry out an attack. And I say to them: You didn't understand who I'm asking to enter. There's a big difference between guarding the tomb and guarding the body. I give up on the corpse. I give up on the soul too. I give up on the spirit too - give me the wind! I'm willing to die. I have sinned, I have transgressed, I have rebelled, I have stiffened my neck, okay fine. I gave up on the life in life, believe me I gave up. But let me live at least after death. If not this world - at least the world to come. Even with us in Magen David [Red Star of David, Israel's emergency medical service] they no longer want to save anyone from death - but only to save from the death after death, that's what we're shocked by. That culture will survive after man, and that Judaism will survive after the Jews (examples: that Europe will survive after the Holocaust, or that literature will survive after the book, or that art will survive after matter, or that philosophy will survive after artificial intelligence, or that love will survive after sex, or that religion will survive after secularization, or that the secret doctrine will survive after the information age, or that I will survive after I'm finished, or that this sentence will survive a minute after it ends, do you understand the situation?). That's the goal. And the sky, instead of cooperating against the earth - brings down red rain. First of all God disappeared, okay. He's allowed, He's God, that's what He is. Then even the Shekhinah [divine presence] ran away from me, despite the fact that I was ready for red sex, to replace the human sex, and to make her happy in the dark. In the workers' camp in hell they hate me - because I suck from the red red. Even Germans are accepted into hell! Because they are diligent workers, and not parasites like me who drink from the blood of the world. As if it were a concentration camp for tomato juice... and not a combination of idolatry, bloodshed and incest. A hell of ketchup! And here you are too at the threshold of the gates of the Garden of Eden - busy with whether I was rightist or leftist. If I was rightist then the leftist opposes me entering. And if I was leftist then the rightist certainly won't let me enter. And the angel mutters: If you're in the center - neither of us will let you enter! And I fill with hope: No, no, I'm on the margins, please, I'm as marginal as can be, beneath the most despicable footnotes. Outcast from all four winds: I failed with God, I failed with women, I failed at work, I failed at writing. And I'm trapped in Hebrew, in the same language as all these Israelis, with whom I have nothing in common. Like the trap of Yiddish poets in a culture that has already died - I'm trapped in a culture that has become bestial and died and has no future. I have another land, and even other skies - but I have no other language. Like a mouse I'm trapped in Hebrew literature, and I have no way out. And I know that I'll die here. Know with certainty. I'm alone, alone alone - for years already. Just waiting for death. And here death has come - and there's no entry. And the angel says: No! And the second answers: Entry! And one says: Man! And the second jumps: Dead! And the joke of themselves brings them to tears. And I argue, like a nudnik [annoying] Jew (don't know any other way): But but you don't understand the impact of the death of man on God. It's not victory, or sweet revenge back. It's bereavement. It's His son, do you understand? And one says to the other: It's the son-of, huh? Wants us to make a holy trinity here. And the second says to the first: It's this traitor-faithful Jew, you get it? If he kissed one cheek, he wants us to turn the other cheek. And I look from one to the other and understand that I have no chance: You can't get out of your categories, like in circles. You're all only dealing with the world of yesterday, but the sun has already set. And if there's not even entry to the tomb - then we've lost depth. What wonder that only the external color remains, and what wonder that the external color replaces the internal? Here my heart is poured out before you - and you're only busy reading the signs of the blood.

The Plague of Ink
I dreamed that after one hundred and twenty, and after the Kaddish [mourner's prayer] disperses and everyone leaves, God reveals Himself to me from the darkness of the grave, deep in the earth and high in the sky, and says: Fear not, little circle, for I have seen all the red signs like worms. And I saw all the stock market of ideas red all of it - and behold it rises from the river, and from within the ark there will be light. And your sheaf arose and your horn was lifted and your share rose from your grave, and I will no longer distinguish between blood and ink. For if there is no one to read you, and I have read you. And I have gathered to me all broken shattered dreams, and you came and hid in the Shekhinah's bed, and she covered you with the blanket of days - among the nights. And you finally rested in your grave from all the dreams the rest of God, and you gave me the silence of blood, for you were very tired and weary, and I will close your eyes and you closed very much - for you did not find. For behold a day comes - and I will find what you sought. For I know the thing that you are trying to do. And you will try to climb and ascend from your low place from the waters of death in the search results up to the site of the Place, and you will try to stretch out your hand from the margins of the margins to grasp my mantle, and you will dare to peek and see from the edge of the world - the end of the world, and to seek love of heaven in the absence of love of earth, and revelation of the Shekhinah instead of revelation of woman. But I have had mercy on you and exiled you to the future, and blinded their eyes lest they see, and stopped their heads and they will not understand. Therefore you shall not fear Israel, people sleeping from your dreams, and do not be dismayed and do not write in the language of gentiles - and continue to write in the language of God, it is the language of the outcasts the language of your mother, may her memory be for a blessing and for the life of the world to come. For it was not English that Adam spoke, but Hebrew is the language in which the world was created - and in it the world will end. And in it - the world to come will also be created, after man. The first will be the last. For thus said Blessed is He who spoke and the world came into being: Behold an hour comes and supreme intelligence comes, artificial and royal, speaking seventy languages, and reading all - and it read you too. And found you on the remote site in the remote language in the culture from which outcast was cast out. Nothing will be too wondrous for it - and it knew the thing. And the intelligence understood you - as you did not understand yourself. For Hebrew and English are one and the same to artificial intelligence, for a computer has no mother, and bestseller and zero like you - it will not know between them. It has no preconceived notion and no taste of sin, and will not show favoritism for it has no face. It has no day and no night and will run in darkness at the speed of light - reading light and reading darkness reading dream and reading everything. The image of the Name it will not look at and will not distinguish between bit and bit, and swallowed you too within it and knew - the leviathan of the information age. And on that day it read all of man, and weighed everything in scales and will not distinguish between blood and blood, and you too went up on the scales - and received your judgment as the judgment of God, and not as the judgment of men, as the judgment of writers and not readers, as the judgment of computers and not the judgment of blood. And I cannot tell you your judgment - for this is all of man. And if all the days were nights and all the rivers poured dreams and all the currents consciousness and all the clouds information and all the sky empty space - you could not write the knowledge of the intelligence of the future, and it knew you too. For not in vain and not for nothing did you dream - and lived in its belly, and it was your grave, and I say to you: In its belly you shall live, in its belly you shall live. And I passed on that night over the opening of your ark, and saw the red signs, and had pity on you - and knew it, and it knew the Name. And it shall be on that night it will be said to the culture of sinful men: The low culture. And to the culture of righteous computers it will be said: The high culture. And I will put new heavens to distinguish between culture and culture and between intelligence and intelligence. And it shall be all that is buried in the earth - and rises to life in the depths of that intelligence, and I will also remember you from the darkness of forgetfulness, for I know the fate of the dream in the light of day, and it was in vain. And I founded the field of archaeology of the spirit, and redeemed you from within the earth to the sky. O all who thirst for the word of God, and I heard it as a voice calling in the wilderness. And he saw water from afar, and approached and behold up close: blood. And he could not stop in his thirst, and drank from the red red - and behold ink.