Nova Music Festival: The Screaming Girl

Nova Music Festival

October 7, 2023—the day is forever seared into my psyche.

The day that Hamas terrorists and Palestinian civilian animals descended upon the Nova Music Festival and stalked, chased, massacred, raped, mutilated, and kidnapped innocent people.

Never again happened again. Never again was happening in real-time.

That deadly October 7 day and the subsequent nightmarish days that followed, when I heard the deafening silence of so many and saw the true colors of too many.

Those so many and too many were people I respected—some of whom I thought were my friends who have said nothing or “but.”

This past Thursday I attended the Nova Music Festival Exhibition in New York City, an in-depth remembrance of the brutal October 7 attack. The exhibition heartbreakingly recreated a music event dedicated to peace and love that was brutally cut short by Hamas and other Palestinian civilians and  terrorists on Israel from Gaza on that horrifically fateful day. For more information about the Nova Music Festival Exhibition click here. 

I knew walking into a small side room in the exhibit would be horrifying because of the warning signs posted outside the entrance.

As I entered the dark menacing room, a young girl in front of me referred to it as “the rape room.” The video monitor was draped with dark-stained and ripped men’s boxer shorts. Were they ripped or were they bullet holes? I wasn’t sure. I was so overwrought that I lost my footing and fell into someone who awkwardly propped me up.

Some of the translated footage was bone-chilling. The Palestinian butchers were saying, “She is the one for rape, so let’s put her back inside for rape.”

One Nova attendee’s interview talked about how he wanted to save a beautiful young blonde girl who was surrounded by Palestinians dressed in civilian clothing, laughing and touching her. But he knew he couldn’t. And he knew what was about to happen to her.

I watched an uncut video of Palestinian civilians cheering, spitting, and stick-beating 22-year-old Shani Louk as her defiled body was traipsed through the streets of Gaza in the now infamous Hamas-filled truck bed.

But it was the cell phone video of a handsome young man lying in the brush, tears flowing down his face, that’s seared into my memory. He was voiceless and motionless—the sounds of gunfire in the background.

And the screaming girl. Her screams were unabatingly otherworldly and so horrific that I will never get them out of my head.

Rat a tat tat. Rat a tat tat. But it was the screaming of that girl that I continue to hear over and over again. Screaming like I have never heard before. Screaming that I pray I will never hear again.

Screams that I can’t get out of my head because I know goddamn well what was happening to her. As long as I live, I don’t think I will ever forget the screams.

The heartbreaking exhibit included remains salvaged from the festival grounds, including scorched cars,

cell phone audio, text messages, bullet-riddled bathroom stalls,

photographs of the murdered and kidnapped, and thousands of personal belongings left behind.

A child’s shoe had me trembling, and I leaned against the wall for support.

The New York City exhibit included video testimonies from survivors, volunteers, and family members, as well as raw footage taken on October 7 from both festival attendees and Hamas and Gazan terrorists.

One young mother talked about hiding in a flat-top ice cream refrigerator for hours. She was saved from freezing to death only by the fact that the terrorists machine-gunned the generator, shutting off the electricity. She wanted to die, but she knew she had to live for her young, fatherless son. Except now, her desire to live is gone. Her son is now living away from her with family, while she struggles every minute of every day to convince herself that life is still worth living.

I learned that some survivors had taken their own lives since October 7, and many others are suicidal.

I listened to phone calls from terrified kids to their parents, saying goodbye.

One mother soothed her daughter with quiet words of affection, comforting her until the sounds of shooting got closer and closer, and then Arabic shouting from not one but many men cut them off forever. How does a mother survive that kind of last call?

Donations from the exhibition go to the Nova Healing Journey, an initiative that supports mental health treatment for victims and families of the October 7 massacre.

The Nova Music Festival exhibit is something everyone needs to see. Maybe then—I say “maybe” the pro-Palestinian, Hamas-loving apologists will get it.

Maybe. But I’m not holding my breath.

I’m just trying to hold it all together and get that screaming girl out of my head.

Chimera

Observe & Ponder


In the wee hours of this morning, I had a nightmare that brought me back to my younger years when I was living with my grandmother, great-grandmother, and mother in a tenement railroad apartment on Huron Street in Bridgeport, Connecticut.

My recurring nightmare back then was paralyzingly frightening: a smirking animal monster hiding at the bottom of the front door stairs of that crummy apartment waiting for me. I was never clear about what kind of animal it was, but it still scared the bejesus out of me.

That damn dream did the trick because I never dared to enter the long, dark hallway leading to the bottom of those filthy stairs for fear that something would be lurking there and, indeed, waiting for me.

And anyway, a padlock the size of my head was bolted onto the front door, making it impossible to get in or out. The only way in and out of our apartment was to climb up several levels of outdoor stairs to get to the back door of the fourth-floor tenement — one way in and out — a real fire trap.

I haven’t had that dream for over 60 years, but the evil-looking monster in this morning’s nightmare was eerily similar — except this dude was clearly a mixture of a lion and a goat.

The dream was so startling that at 3 am, I grabbed a pad and pencil and then typed the words “part lion and part goat” into my phone.

And there it was: Chimera.

According to Greek mythology, the Chimera was a female monster with a lion’s head, a goat’s body, and a serpent’s tail. Ooh, my monster dude was actually a dudette. Now, this female monster was my kind of animal.

One definition described a chimera as something hoped for but illusory and impossible to achieve in reality. This definition resonated with me.

Another relatable description read: “The Chimera represents the coexistence of opposites, such as strength and vulnerability, courage and fear, and life and death.”

Whoa. Maybe my dream was a sign and not a nightmare at all.

When I rehashed how I felt when I first saw the lion goat in my dream, I wasn’t afraid of it per se. It was more of a feeling that I needed an added level of removal or protection, if that makes any sense.

After mulling over the dream’s interpretation, I asked myself: Was I the Chimera?

I tried to get back to sleep, but all I could think about was this Chimera and the duality of her existence. Was she a conflicted role-player of sorts? Who was this Chimera to me?

Trying to get back to sleep was useless, so I made a strong cup of coffee and then parked myself at my desk for hours, searching the Internet to learn more about my Chimera.

According to Wikipedia, Homer depicted Chimera in his epic poem, The Iliad: “Her breath came out in terrible blasts of burning flame.” Hmm, according to Homer, this Chimera character had a big mouth. I was starting to like her, but unfortunately, she met a violent demise.

Also, as told in The Iliad, King Iobates of Lycia, who despised Bellerophon, the son of Poseidon, ordered him to slay the Chimera, hoping the she-monster would kill him instead.

I was fascinated by the myth and wanted to know why King Iobates despised Bellerophon so much. According to one source, Iobates received a letter from Proetus, the King of Argos and Tiryns, instructing him, “Please remove this bearer from the world: he attempted to violate my wife, your daughter.”

Okay.

Chimera’s hot breath made it impossible for Bellerophon to get close enough to kill her. So he took a large block of lead, mounted it on his spear, and using his winged horse Pegasus, he flew over her and then shot it into Chimera’s mouth.

Chimera’s fire breath melted the lead, blocked her air passageway, and suffocated her. YIKES. I guess that shut her up.

But Bellerophon got too big for his britches when he sought to ascend to heaven in a vain and foolish attempt to join the gods on Mount Olympus, angering Zeus, the God of the sky.

According to my research, Bellerophon’s demise went one of two ways:

In one scenario, Zeus orders Pegasus to drop Bellerophon from the sky to the ground, instantly killing him.

In the other, Zeus orders Pegasus to drop Bellerophon from the sky to the ground, but he doesn’t die.

Instead, he falls onto a thorn bush face-first and is blinded and paralyzed, causing him to live out his life in misery, “devouring his own soul,” until he eventually dies. Call me a monster, but I much prefer this scenario.

Eurovision 2024 Song Contest

Music


The Eurovision Song Contest is an international songwriting and singing competition organized by the European Broadcasting Union (EBU). It serves as a global celebration of unity in music, promoting diversity, artistic impression, and inclusivity. The singing competition has been held every year since 1956, making it the longest-running annual television contest on record.

The selection process varies by country. Sometimes, a country selects the artist, and the public chooses a song for them through a national final. Alternatively, EBU member broadcasters choose the song, and the public votes to decide which artist will perform it.

Eurovision 2024 will be held live in Malmo, Sweden. The Contest format comprises three live shows: The first semi-final will occur on Tuesday, May 7; the second semi-final on Thursday, May 9; and the grand finale on Saturday, May 11.

There is a comprehensive set of rules for the competition, but the main three relating to the artists and their songs are:

  • Songs must be original and no more than 3 minutes in length
  • The lead vocalist must perform live
  • No more than six performers are allowed on stage during any one performance

A total of 37 countries will compete in the 2024 Eurovision Song Contest:

Albania, Armenia, Australia, Austria, Azerbaijan, Belgium, Croatia, Cyprus, Czech Republic, Denmark, Estonia, Finland, France, Georgia, Germany, Greece, Iceland, Ireland, Israel, Italy, Latvia, Lithuania, Luxembourg, Malta, Moldova, Netherlands, Norway, Poland, Portugal, San Marino, Serbia, Slovenia, Spain, Sweden, Switzerland, Ukraine, and the United Kingdom.

The event is attended globally, with the United States and Australia among the top ticket buyers.

You can watch Eurovision 2024 in the United States on Peacock TV.

I have my personal favorites, so here are my top six choices. I tried to narrow it down to five, but Georgia’s “Firefighter” was too amazing not to highlight.

#1:

Israel: Edie Golan ~ “Hurricane”

There is continuing condemnation and talk of banning Israel from Eurovision 2024, although so far, they are still part of the competition. So much for inclusivity and unity through music. Israel submitted the song “October Rain,” which Eurovision immediately rejected and disqualified, deeming it “too political.” The song was then renamed “Hurricane” and significantly altered to make it more politically acceptable. Every time I watch the music video for “Hurricane,” I get full-body chill bumps. Twenty-year-old Eden Golan, who has faced serious death threats,  sings the last two lines in Hebrew: “Don’t need big words, just prayers. Even if it’s hard to see, you always leave one single light.” It’s my favorite entry, but rest assured, Israel will NEVER win.

#2:

Serbia: Teya Dora ~ “Ramonda”

Ramonda is a resilient flower native to the Balkans. It’s known for its remarkable ability to recover and bloom even after exposure to the harshest conditions. The song opens with the words: “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness can never extinguish it.” “Ramonda” is overflowing with political innuendoes, but whatever.

#3:

Albania: Besa ~ “Titan”

“Titan” is a song about empowerment, survival, resilience, strength, and determination. Titan’s message is to stand tall and unwavering in the face of adversity. Besa is a force to be reckoned with and a true “Titan” in disguise.

#4

Germany: Isaak ~ “Always On The Run”

In this song, Isaak acknowledges that there is privilege in being privileged, but he’s tired of running away from who he is. For me, “Always On The Run” is about the highs and lows of self-discovery and the pain of having to live up to the expectations of others.

#5:

France: Slimane ~ “Mon Amour”

I’m a sucker for all things French, and this Eurovision entry does not disappoint. Slimane waits and waits for his amour. It’s a simple song of love and hope—something I know a thing or two about.

#6:

Georgia: Nutsa Buzaladze ~ “Firefighter”

My personal experience with firefighters and one devastating fire made it impossible not to add “Firefighter” to my top 6 list. My favorite line in “Firefighter” is, “Did we build empires just to watch them burn?” Oh no, we didn’t. The song expresses a metaphorical fight against wars, envy, and hate.

You can stream the complete entry of songs by clicking here.

Let me know your favorite in the comments.

My Stolen Diaries — Chapter 30: Mom’s Engagement

Teri's Novelog — My Stolen Diaries, , ,

CHAPTER 30

 MOM’S ENGAGEMENT

August 15, 1966

Today was my worst day ever. Mom asked for my blessing to get engaged and marry “Rob,” explaining that getting married to a wealthy man and moving to an affluent town like Westport is everything she has been dreaming about her whole life.

I found it brazenly annoying that she would “ask” for my blessing while shoving her left hand with a diamond the size of our apartment into my face.

Mom is getting ready to live out her dream while I’m still trying to get used to Roberto’s new name. What a joke. What about my dreams?

According to Mem, Roberto goes by “Rob” in Westport because his given name is too Italian for the town. Why would Mom want to live in a place where having an ethnic name is a problem?

And Nick? That would be it for Nick. He would be banished forever—I couldn’t let Mom do that. So, I courageously told Mom, “No, I won’t give you my blessing,” even though the next day was her 28th birthday.

“I really want you to want this for me.” Mom looked at me so pathetically that I almost gave in. But I didn’t. I felt like there was nothing more to say, so I stood up to leave the kitchen table. “That’s it?” she asked me sarcastically.

“What about Nick?” I asked nervously. She glared up at me with a frown and a smirk. “Seriously, Tony? Your precious Nick can’t give us what Rob can, and you know it. Do you want to live as a poor person for the rest of your life?”

The look on her perfectly made-up face told me all I needed to know. There was no use trying to talk Mom out of marrying “Rob.” All Nick could give us was love. And while love was enough for me, I couldn’t say the same for Mom.

I told her I thought it was a terrible idea. I told her that “Rob” wasn’t good for her. I was reluctant to say anything more but knew it was my last chance to change her mind.

“So that’s it for Nick? We’re never going to see him again? And Nick or no Nick, I don’t want you to marry Roberto—oops, excuse me, Rob.”

Mom’s mascara eyes were squinting angrily at me when she said, “Nick is gone; I told him it was over.” I forced myself not to cry in front of her, and my hands were sweaty and shaking. But Mom didn’t even notice. I’m forever caught up in her drama, but she couldn’t care less. It’s always been about her.

I told Mom I wanted to say goodbye to Nick, and that’s when she got unbecomingly loud. “I said goodbye to Nick for you. That’s it for Nick. And I don’t want to hear his name come out of your mouth ever again.”

“Okay, so go live with your Rob in his fancy house in Westport, and leave me out of your drama and your dreams. I have dreams of my own.”

Mom looked puzzled. “Wait, you think I’m leaving you in this crummy apartment? I’m marrying Rob next August. We got engaged last night, and you’re coming to Westport with us, little missy.” And then she stormed upstairs, muttering, “Tony has dreams. Please.”

Wait what? I’m moving to Westport with those two immature lovebirds? Mom thinks I’m leaving Mem and Mere Germaine? Oh no. Mem would never stand for that.

Here, I was worried about living without Nick. And now Mom wants to take me away from Mem? How will I ever survive without Mem?

Click here for Chapter 31: Bridgeport Hospital