Joshua Cactus

Last year I came across the horror of being gay (or different in any other way for that matter) in Iran. Two teens were hung in public just for being queer. Two local Muslim kids. Not spies or god forbid Zionists! Just two kids who dared to love each other. I will not show the photos here, but you may see it on the excellent blog Mideast Piece . When the story of these two teens was published I felt for the first time true and deep revulsion for this cursed land called Iran and it’s leaders. Years of spiteful anti-Semitic and anti-Israeli propaganda had only caused me mild discomfort but not achieve what was “accomplished” with a single photo. A country where kids are hung in public for having hots for each other does not have the right to be a member of any international community and should be banned from the company of nations, companies or private individuals. Such a country should be taken seriously. Every threat it makes should be accounted for. Such a place of horror and oppres...

(c) 2005 The New Yorker

Want to discover the Middle East? How about checking yourself in for a night at an Internal medicine department at the Tel Aviv medical center? Like that old Benetton united colors add it's just full of the widest collection of skin tones and languages you can find. The department where I did my six month internal med rotation was an extreme example. Nurses and doctors, patients and families stuffed into a long neon-lit floor with very little in common except all were very busy being sick or trying to get rid of it. We had Muslim nurses, Russian-Jewish doctors, Ethiopian staff members, immigrants from all over the world. The sexual orientation was from a military macho straight doc who likes them young and tender to the flamboyant gay nurse who loves them big and hairy. Hebrew was the common language but not many were truly fluent. Like a mini New York City or an ancient merchant port in the Roman empire all sorts of colourful people managed to get along and continue with the busi...

Tomorrow is my last day at the hospital. It took a very strong will and a very broad back to endure long days and longer nights in the last 18 months. I am leaving a department where I felt at home. A different post will be dedicated to that next week. In the mean while enjoy this sexy back by Biron .

Last night we did an Independence Day bash at my apartment. It was also an opportunity to say goodbye to a whole bunch of people. We started around 8pm. The party motto was Bring Your Own Booze and most guests got hammered by 10. Drunk or not, as the fireworks exploded from above I looked around and realized how much I'll miss them. Best friends and close family, docs, fags, babes, love em all. It is a great feeling to be surrounded by so much love (god am I getting mushy...). When everyone left R and I had our own private fireworks celebrating 5 months together. It was hot, intense and beautiful. The clock is ticking. Exactly three weeks to go. This was taken last night from my rooftop overlooking Tel Aviv city hall.

New image by Emile Walters

Last night shift at the hospital. Calling it a night shift is such a misnomer. How do you call a working session that starts at 7.30 AM and goes until 1.30 PM THE NEXT DAY?? How do define 30 continuous hours without a single nap? And how do gather the strength to face a week with three such shifts? Welcome to the life of a medical resident. And tonight is the last one. When the sun will shine in 3-4 hours I will no longer be on the rotating "death list" of the residents. Tonight all the types of patients I learned to know had gathered as if to say goodbye. The old man dying of cancer who came for his painkillers and blood transfusion, the younger guy clasping his chest in pain and fear of never making it through the night, the crazy woman with unmatched socks who has a rash she just couldn't hide anymore, the girl with the high fever and nasty looking lab results, the man who feels his heart racing out of his chest as the monitor is bleeping and flashing it's neon li...

Just discovered this fantastic photographer Dylan Ricci . Almost on the verge of porn but still feels right.

Today I signed the papers. Eleven years together has come to an official end at the lawyer's office. No drama, no long sighs, just a piece of paper and black ink. There is no sadness , only hope for at least another ten great years ahead.

Today is the national Holocaust memorial day in Israel. My family too had come here from Europe some 50 years ago leaving behind many dead but I never heard about it much at home. It was a subject "not suitable for children" and when the older generation passed away there was no one really left to talk about it. Three years ago it all changed when I went to Poland with a military delegation. For ten days we toured this cursed land where green forests and lonely country roads hide a dark history. My strongest moment was in Auschwitz, the murder factory in south west Poland. In this giant compound near a picturesque town millions of Jews, homosexuals and others were sorted like cattle and sent to the gas chambers. The fortunate ones slaved in the nearby ammunition factory until too weak or sick to work. Very few survived. As I stood there in silence wearing my Israeli Defense Forces uniform, under an Israeli flag, I felt a new awareness. The full circle of horror and rebirth ...

My last Saturday shift at the hospital. A long lazy afternoon with relatively peaceful ward and most patients not trying to kill themselves. My man R had decided to mobilize and bring chicken sticks to the masses. He shopped and chopped and carved and grilled. Around 9 pm R (beautiful beautiful sexy guy that he is) shows up at the hospital with bundles of steamy chicken, antipasti and salad. All the gang joined in. I was so happy to see him and he made me feel loved and proud. Can't believe it's 32 days till I leave.

Take a look at my daily desktop from Envy Man magazine.

There are a few things I want from my partner. First and most important is a fine tuned recognition to what really is important to me and a real attempt to honor that. About most things I am not very picky or adamant. I'll see most movies , eat most foods, meet most people, travel almost anywhere. A good party is no better then an intimate night at home watching a DVD. But on certain issues I got my issues. Mr R failed to recognize one such issue and I was mad. Mad to the point of not wanting to see him or answer his calls for two days. Last night he came to visit, we had a talk. He was sad and taken back and hurt. We talked and then when things cleared had a long grown ups make up. Nothing beats a good old make up in the sheets.

He offered to cook. I said sure. Been spoiled by my last partner to gourmet dinners at home. He sent me to shop for groceries, lots of veggies and some meat. As it was a holiday it took a while to find all the exotic stuff his mom insisted was needed for the dishes. Then at evening, we chopped and fried and baked and stirred. Cooking together was fun and warm and even sexy. Naturally we tasted so much of the food that three hours later when the table was set we hadn't much appetite left. LOL. Romantic candle light, great music by a female vocalist we both like. It was great. An hour later we changed to our night-crawler outfits. Sexy and tight. Took a cab to the club ( Haoman 17 ) for a session with the great Victor Calderon a New York DJ visiting Tel Aviv. Few drinks later and we merged with the music. Hypnotic. Thousands of half naked sweaty men moving to the vibe made it worth the pressure at the entrance and the lack of oxygen on the main floor. We were moving and rolling with...

Another thing of beauty from the french team.

Eating my morning yogurt I miss those days of sweet cereals. It's been now almost a year since I started my low-carb lots-of-fat diet. The name of Dr. Atkins had caught my eye in a medical conference like a new religious cult. A bunch of guys and gals were standing in the corner of the dining room, holding cheese and cold-cuts and arguing with foam in their mouths. The subject was "are we killing our patients with this Atkins method". I approached and got a short emotional lecture from one of the followers. Next day got the book and got hooked. The beginning of Atkins is tough. It's not for the weak of heart. I was lying on the couch in a vegetative state moaning that my life is over and I must have a chocolate bar NOW. My partner at the time had endured it exactly 48 hours and went back to his pasta-bread-fries life. I lasted longer. Actually 8 months longer. Once the initial weakness and cravings go away you start feeling normal, perhaps less bloated. Atkins is easy...

40 days left to the move. At 16 I left home for two years in a Canadian college. Walking the streets of my hometown in Israel I was counting minutes till the flight. Now it's different. Now it is about leaving my love. Its about leaving a ring of friends who are family. Heck I don't even know what I'll be doing when back home. The move to Gotham looms ahead. Got to start packing.

Passover is about liberation and lots of wondering about till reaching the promised land. We celebrate an exodus. I think everyone needs some sort of an exodus to party about. If you think of it it's an ancient fantasy almost all of us have. Go and leave your troubles behind while wagging your tail at the enemy/authorities/old life/taxman/ [fill the spot]. Grab a chance at a new start. And the added bonus, no bread is allowed in Passover hence less carbs . Here is a dumb but kinda jumpy Passover Clip .