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Jews of Ashenkazi descent are currently rioting in the streets because of an Israeli Supreme Court ruling that they can no longer segregate their schools to keep their children away from the Sephardim.

Here is what's already been done to the Sephardim with American financial assistance.

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http://wakeupfromyourslumber.com/node/3438

On August 14, at 9 PM, Israel's Channel Ten television screened a documentary film which exposes the ugliest secret of Israel's Labor party founders: the deliberate mass radiation poisoning of nearly all Sephardi youths of a generation.

“The Ringworm Children” (translated in Hebrew as “100,000 Rays”), directed by David Belhassen and Asher Hemias, recently won the prize for “best documentary” at the Haifa International film festival, and in the past year has made the rounds of Jewish and Israeli film festivals around the world. But it had yet to come to Israeli television screens. The subject is the mass irradiation of hundreds of thousands of young Israeli immigrants from Middle Eastern countries — Sephardim, as they are called today. The story goes like this:

In 1951, the director general of the Israeli Health Ministry, Dr. Chaim Sheba, flew to America and returned with seven x-ray machines, supplied to him by the American army.

They were to be used in a mass atomic experiment with an entire generation of Sephardi youths to be used as guinea pigs. Every Sephardi child was to be given 35,000 times the maximum dose of x-rays through his head. For doing so, the American government paid the Israeli government 300 million Israeli liras a year. The entire Health budget was 60 million liras. The money paid by the Americans is equivalent to billions of dollars today.

To fool the parents of the victims, the children were taken away on “school trips” and their parents were later told the x-rays were a treatment for the scourge of scalpal ringworm. 6,000 of the children died shortly after their doses were given, while many of the rest developed cancers that killed thousands over time and are still killing them now. While living, the victims suffered from disorders such as epilepsy, amnesia, Alzheimer's disease, chronic headaches and psychosis.

That is the subject of the documentary in cold terms. It is another matter to see the victims on the screen.

To watch the Moroccan lady describe what getting 35,000 times the dose of allowable x-rays in her head feels like. “I screamed make the headache go away. Make the headache go away. Make the headache go away. But it never went away.”

To watch the bearded man walk hunched down the street. “I'm in my fifties and everyone thinks I'm in my seventies. I have to stoop when I walk so I won't fall over. They took my youth away with those x-rays.”

To watch the old lady who administered the doses to thousands of children: “They brought them in lines. First their heads were shaved and smeared in burning gel. Then a ball was put between their legs and the children were ordered not to drop it, so they wouldn't move. The children weren't protected over the rest of their bodies. There were no lead vests for them. I was told I was doing good by helping to remove ringworm.

If I knew what dangers the children were facing, I would never have cooperated. Never!”

Because the whole body was exposed to the rays, the genetic makeup of the children was often altered, affecting the next generation. We watch the woman with the distorted face explain, “All three of my children have the same cancers my family suffered. Are you going to tell me that's a coincidence?”

The majority of the victims were Moroccan because they were the most numerous of the Sephardi immigrants. The generation that was poisoned became the country's perpetual poor and criminal class. It didn't make sense. The Moroccans who fled to France became prosperous and highly educated. The common explanation was that France got the rich, thus smart ones. The real explanation is that every French Moroccan child didn't have his brain cells fried with gamma rays.

The film made it perfectly plain that this operation was no accident. The dangers of x-rays had been known for over forty years. We read the official guidelines for x-ray treatment in 1952. The maximum dose to be given a child in Israel was .5 rad. There was no mistake made. The children were deliberately poisoned.

DAVID DERI MAKES THE POINT THAT ONLY SEPHARDI CHILDREN RECEIVED THE X-RAYS: “I WAS IN CLASS AND THE MEN CAME TO TAKE US ON A TOUR. THEY ASKED OUR NAMES. THE ASHKENAZI CHILDREN WERE TOLD TO RETURN TO THEIR SEATS. THE DARK CHILDREN WERE PUT ON THE BUS.”

The film presents a historian who first gives a potted history of the eugenics movement. In a later sound bite, he declares that the ringworm operation was a eugenics program aimed at weeding out the perceived weak strains of society. The Moroccan lady is back on the screen. “It was a Holocaust, a Sephardi Holocaust. And what I want to know is why no one stood up to stop it.”

David Deri, on film and then as a panel member, relates the frustration he encountered when trying to find his childhood medical records. “All I wanted to know was what they did to me. I wanted to know who authorized it. I wanted to trace the chain of command. But the Health Ministry told me my records were missing.” Boaz Lev, the Health Ministry's spokesman chimes in: “Almost all the records were burned in a fire.”

We are told that a US law in the late '40s put a stop to the human radiation experiments conducted on prisoners, the mentally feeble and the like. The American atomic program needed a new source of human lab rats and the Israeli government supplied it. Here was the government cabinet at the time of the ringworm atrocities:

Prime Minister - David Ben Gurion; Finance Minister - Eliezer Kaplan; Settlement Minister - Levi Eshkol; Foreign Minister - Moshe Sharrett; Health Minister - Yosef Burg;
Labor Minister - Golda Meir; Police Minister - Amos Ben Gurion.

The highest ranking non-cabinet post belonged to the Director General of the Defence Ministry, Shimon Peres.

That a program involving the equivalent of billions of dollars of American government funds should be unknown to the Prime Minister of cash-strapped Israel is ridiculous. Ben Gurion had to have been in on the horrors and undoubtedly chose his son to be Police Minister in case anyone interfered with them.

Finance Minister Eliezer Kaplan was rewarded for eternity with a hospital named after him near Rehovot. But he's not alone in this honor. Chaim Sheba, who ran Ringworm Incorporated, had a whole medical complex named after him. Needless to say, if there is an ounce of decency in the local medical profession, those hospital names will have to change.

After the film ended, there was a panel discussion which included a Moroccan singer, David Edri, head of the Compensation Committee for Ringworm X-Ray Victims, and Boaz Lev, a spokesman for the Ministry Of Health.

TV host Dan Margalit tried to put a better face on what he'd witnessed. He explained meekly that “the state was poor. It was a matter of day to day survival.” Then he stopped. He knew there was no excusing the atrocities which the Sephardi children endured.

But it was the Moroccan singer who summed up the experience best. “It's going to hurt, but the truth has to be told. If not, the wounds will never heal.”

There is one person alive who knows the truth: Shimon Peres. The only way to get to the truth and start the healing is to investigate him for his role in the mass poisoning of over 100,000 Sephardi children and youth.

But here is why that won't happen. The film was aired at the same time as the highest-rated TV show of the year, the finale of Israel's talent-hunt show: “A Star Is Born.” The next day, the newly-born star's photo took up half the front pages. There was not a word about “The Ringworm Children” in any paper, nor on the Internet. Until now. Poker Face
Hetalia
America/Russia

Written for the Hetalia Kink meme

Warning for gun and power play and porn.

Russia put the gun on the table. It was an old style revolver, America hadn’t seen one like it in a long time. He didn’t so much as twitch at the sudden revelation that Russia was carrying a weapon, though they were meant to come unarmed to these meetings. Of course, he had his own gun under his coat. That damn grin of his on his face, Russia reached into another pocket and pulled out a bullet, laying it on the table next to the revolver.

“Do you like to gamble, America,” Russia asked, his voice deceptively calm. It was a rhetorical question. Everything the two countries had said to each other in a long time now had been a carefully weighed gamble, each meeting a throw of the dice. Each day a risk, would today be the day the other one snapped and hit the button.

Russia picked the gun up, swung the chamber out so America could see it was empty, then put the bullet in. He clicked the chamber back into place and spun it, then lay the gun on the table. A challenge.

“Would you like a bet?” Russia asked, his expression not changing.

“Depends…” America said slowly, working hard to keep his features as relaxed as possible. “What are we playing for?”

“If you pick up this gun and fire it at your own head, I’ll let you take me tonight.”

“You must be crazy,” America spat, suddenly unable to control himself. “You must be out of your mind. I take the risk of getting my brains splattered across the walls and all you get is the risk of getting it up the ass. No thanks!”

“I’m not sure you get my meaning,” Russia said, his voice taking on a slightly more dangerous edge. “Not just my ass, tonight you can have anything of me you want, do anything you want, if you will just fire that gun at yourself.”

That…that bastard. His face was still expressionless, just that same little smile America had been observing on his face since they first met. He had a sudden absurd need to break that smile, to force some expression on to that face. He’d never done it before, in bed or out, but this would be different. This time…

He reached out and ran a finger along the barrel of the gun. It was ridiculous, it was stupid, he should just walk away now. Nothing was worth risking his life, or at least his health, at such a crucial time. Was that what Russia was betting on? That he would hurt himself and the USA would be weakened so Russia would be able to strike?

“You can inspect it if you like,” Russia said, impenetrable smile still in place. “I assure you it’s not rigged.”

America picked the gun up, turning it in his hands, then quickly checked it. Just as Russia said, it wasn’t tampered with. He should throw the gun down on the table, tell Russia he was crazy and walk away.

But…if he did that…he’d be walking away.

This was a challenge, there was no other way of looking at it. Russia was testing his nerve, his bravery. Russia didn’t think he’d do this, that’s why Russia had offered himself as the prize. A surrender, even temporary, because he was sure that America would surrender first.

If he lay the gun down Russia would look at him with that inscrutable smile and behind it he would be smirking. He would know that he had issued a challenge that America couldn’t take, and that would not do.

And, after all, how was holding the gun to his head any different from what they did every day?

He lifted the gun and pressed the barrel against the side of his temple. It was cold and hard, digging in there. He would have pulled it further back, but he was afraid that it he didn’t support it then his hand would shake.

A six barrel revolver. A 5/6 chance he’d win this…only a 1/6 chance he’d lose. The odds were on his side, at least.

But, still, he couldn’t quite make his finger move to the trigger. He knew this probably couldn’t kill him, he was America, but he’d never heard of a nation taking a bullet to the head before so he just couldn’t be sure. He didn’t want to die. That’s what this entire damn war was about, wasn’t it, not giving Russia the chance to kill him.

Then Russia’s lip quirked a little, as if to say he knew what America was thinking, knew he was trying to back out of it, and he would never let America forget it.

America moved his finger to the trigger. He drew a deep breath, though he was sure it wouldn’t help. If only he could think more rationally, there had to be a way to get out of this and not loose face, but his heart was pounding in his chest, he could almost feel the adrenaline rushing through his system.

“Of course, if you don’t want to…” Russia said, his voice filled with false kindness.

America pulled the trigger.

There was a click as the cylinder rotated, but no shot. It had been empty. He didn’t need to be the one to find if a nation could survive being shot in the head. He lowered the gun, his breath coming in short gasps, utterly unable to control the shaking in his arm now. Russia’s face remained unchanged, a perfect blank.

America stood up, suddenly needing to move, he sent his chair skidding across the room behind him and stalked a few paces away, then turned and came back. He looked at the gun, and for a second he had the impulse to order Russia to fire it, he had said anything, but somehow he knew that Russia would have no problem picking up a gun and firing it at his own head.

“Come here,” he barked, leaning against the table and gesturing at the floor in front of him. Russia stood, that same smile still on his face, and came around the table, stopping in front of America. America took a deep breath, he had to think about this. He wasn’t going to get an opportunity like this again, he had to break Russia’s poker face, he had to.

“Strip,” he said, in what he hoped was a calm voice. Russia moved to comply, shedding first his ever present coat, then his shirt and trousers in a quick and efficient manner. Predictably, he wasn’t wearing any underwear. America shrugged of his own jacket. He looked around the room, assessing. The room was an office, they had been meeting, after all. Other then the desk and two chairs it contained a filling cabinet with a pot plant on top and a small table with a kettle, some cups and a radio. He headed there now, pulling out his pocket knife and cutting the electrical flax from the wire, then returned to Russia and wrapped it tightly around his wrists, clinching in so he couldn’t break free. It was, he found, still the best way to ensure your orders would be followed.

“Did you just want to tie me up, America?” Russia asked in that soft voice of his. “This is hardly worth a gun shot…”

The adrenaline surged to the surface again, undoing all the careful self-control he’d built over the last few minutes, and America reached up, grabbing a handful of Russia’s hair, and pulled him violently to the ground. Russia hissed a little but his expression remained unchanged.

America moved to lean against the table again, so Russia was looking up at him. He was annoyed to see that Russia had started to grow hard, especially since he hadn’t, the memory of the cold metal against his head still too fresh in his memory.

He picked the gun up again, running his finger along the barrel. Yes…yes…this would do. Slowly he turned the gun and aimed it at Russia. The other country didn’t even blink, just looked up at him calmly over the barrel of the gun.

America felt his control slip again and he reached out, grabbing Russia’s lower lip this time. He would wipe the damn smile of the other country’s face, even if he had to do it by force. He yanked down hard to Russia opened his mouth then he jammed the barrel of the gun into Russia’s mouth. Russia’s eyes widened just a fraction and America felt his cock begin to stir, he hadn’t been expecting that.

America pushed the gun as far as it would go into Russia’s mouth, making the other man gag, all the while keeping it turned to Russia could see his finger playing with the trigger, then he slowly pulled the gun out, running it over Russia’s now parted lips, then pressing it hard to the corner of his mouth. Slowly he slid the gun down along Russia’s face, then down the side of his neck, then finally up again, lodging the barrel in his throat and using the gun to push Russia’s face up.

He was smiling again.

“You know, I already took one of the chambers, that means if I fired this now there’s a one in five chance you’d die,” America said, trying to pull in his impulse to do just that. Russia blinked, another response, and America reached down with his free hand to grab a handful of Russia’s hair again, pulling it. “I could fire five shots, right here and now. I always wanted to know just what it would take to kill one of us, and if Russia was incapacitated it would solve a lot of my problems.

“I don’t think you will,” Russia said, calmly. America felt a surge of anger run through him, down to his trigger finger and before he could think he’d pulled the trigger again. The silence hung in the room for a second, Russia’s eyes were really wide now, neither of them had really expected that. America hadn’t thought he had it in him to really try to shoot someone he knew, apparently he was wrong.

“Suck it,” he said, lifting the gun to Russia’s mouth again, “Suck it like it’s my cock.”

Russia paused for a second, causing a rush of pleasure through America’s body, then parted his lips again, talking the barrel of the gun into his mouth. America watched, playing with the trigger in full sight as Russia ran his tongue over the gun, bobbing his head at America’s direction. He looked, slightly off balance, slightly startled, and America wasn’t surprised when he looked down to find that the other nation was hard.

A shot of anger ran through him, this wasn’t right. Russia wasn’t meant to enjoy this, not really. This was meant to be revenge. He pulled the gun back and used his grip on Russia’s hair to pull the other nation to his feet again, throwing him over the desk.

Then he lowered the gun, running the barrel gently over Russia’s buttocks. He did it softly, barely depressing the skin, oddly like the touch of a lover if it hadn’t been cold steel, then he slid the barrel down and used it to part Russia’s ass cheeks. Russia gasped, a honest gasp, and America smiled as his cock began to grow painful against the confines of his trousers. He reached down and unfastened them with one hand so he could continue trailing the gun over Russia’s buttocks, dipping occasionally to run down between his cheeks, pressing against what they found there.

Once his cock was free he stroked it gently, but stopped. He wasn’t going to last long like this, and he needed to finish it.

He reached over with his free hand and parted Russia, giving him a good view of the other man’s entrance. Slowly, he slid the barrel of the gun down, pressing it there. Russia let out a little moan, brining his hips up slightly to meet it, and America felt his vision narrow to the gun and the way Russia’s hips moved against it, as if he meant to take the gun in to himself.

America couldn’t think any more, he grabbed Russia’s hips and rolled him on to his back so he could watch the other man. Russia…his face. It wasn’t so calm any more. His eyes were open, shockingly so, his lips red where he had been biting them, there was a wonderful flush over his cheeks and down his neck.

A stray rational thought crossed America’s mind and he cast his eyes about for lube, it wasn’t right to just take a man with no preparation, even though Russia seemed more than ready to accept him. The thought was quickly swept away though as Russia whispered please, a deep breathy whisper so unlike the tone America was used to his using, and pushed him ass against America’s penis.

America thrust forward, all sense lost to the sensation of Russia around him, to the look to shocked abandon on Russia’s fact, to the overwhelming knowledge that he had finally done something surprising enough to shatter the other countries calm.

He came with a scream, barely aware of Russia joining him.

When he could think again he moved back and pulled out of Russia, who was looking oddly pleased with himself. It occurred to America as he moved that it was easier to slide out of Russia then it should have been, the bastard had come prepared. Once America stepped back, Russia pushed himself up from his awkward position, lying at an angle with his bound wrists twisted to the side, and looked at America, an odd contentment on his face.

“If I’d known that all it took to make you act like that was to convince you to risk shooting yourself, I would have done it years ago,” Russia said, the soft controlled tone back, even though his face was still showing more emotion than usual. America snorted, pulling his pants back up and turning to look at Russia, sat on the edge of the table looking wonderfully fucked.

“If I’d know you’d get off on this crap I’d have given it to you sooner.”

“Only sometimes, I’m afraid,” Russia said, the fake smile finally slipping back into place. “I can be quite a masochist, but when the mood takes me I can be very much the sadist too.”

“We’ll see,” America shot back, turning to go leave. He looked back for a second, then opened the door. He managed to see, just for a second, the look of shock on Russia’s face as he realised America really was about to go and leave him there, his hands bound, naked and his own cum all over his chest.

Walking away America grinned to himself. The threat Russia posed was still hanging there, this wouldn’t resolve the nuclear issue, but for today, he had cracked that fake smile, and what more could you ask of one day’s work?
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