april/29

Thursday, April 27, 2006
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RUSSIAN PROVERBS
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“A wounded falcon will be pecked to death even by a crow.”
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“Every day is different from another: one day it’s cold, next day freezing.”
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“To a sinking boat all winds are in the wrong direction.”
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LIONS AND FLIES
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The unfairness of life is never as evident as when you are insulted by someone because he thinks he is invulnerable or you are in no position to retaliate. In such moments it is useful to remember that every Achilles has his heel and even a fly can drive a lion crazy.
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WHO’S WHO
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Because I refuse to drop my pants and bend over, I am thought of as an unpatriotic non-conformist.
Very probably I am more conservative, patriotic, and traditionalist than our so-called revolutionaries. A hundred years ago they challenged the might of the Sultan. I am now challenging the might of our mini-sultans. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, you may now decide who’s who and what’s what.
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Friday, April 28, 2006
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“The British are a tolerant people,” I read in a commentary this morning. My first thought: When, O when they will say this about us?
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In Antranik Zaroukian’s NEW ARMENIA, NEW ARMENIANS (Beirut, 1983) I read the following story: In Moscow they didn’t know what to do with Stalin’s body. They asked the French if they would like to have it and the French said no. They asked the Germans, Italians, Greeks, Spaniards, and a few other people, and they all said no. Finally Israel said, “We’ll have it. Send it over.” The Russians said, “No way. We will never send Stalin’s body to Israel.” “Why not?” the Israelis wanted to know. “Because,” the Russians replied,” “in your land there is the possibility of resurrection.”
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We desperately need pundits who will tell us things we don’t know, instead of reminding us over and over again that Turks are butchers and liars, and we are their victims.
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When asked for a favor, a friend tells me, an Armenian academic is reported to have said, “What’s in it for me?”
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The more I live among men, the more I prefer the company of dead writers.
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You may know a thousand things he doesn’t know, but if you don’t know that single thing he knows, forever after he will think of you as an ignoramus.
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One reason I can’t stand idiots is that I have been one all my life, and I continue to be one today. How else to explain my illusion that if I share my understanding with my fellow Armenians, I may make myself useful to them.
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Saturday, April 29, 2006
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It is said that when the Buddha ignored an insult by a passerby, one of his disciples wanted to retaliate. The Master stopped him with the words: “When someone offers me a bowl of rice and I am not hungry, I don’t eat it.”
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Anonymous: “Sometimes what matters is not who you are but where you are.”
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A question to our editors and pundits: If a member of your family is molested or raped, do you feel the need to speak of molesters and rapists every time you open your mouth? Why do you discuss Turks whenever you put pen to paper? Doesn’t the nation deserve the same degree of consideration as members of your own family?
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During the last few days I have read three books by Antranik Zaroukian, a survivor. Does he mention Turks? I don’t remember. Maybe once or twice, and only in passing. But I am not sure. As lawyers say when they are through cross-examining a witness, “Nothing further, your Honor.”
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What could be easier than making mistakes? What could be infinitely more difficult than admitting them? I don’t say this in reference to Turks, or for that matter, to Armenians who have committed their share of blunders, but about myself.
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