Don’t Tell Me News

rocket range, missile range, hamas missile attacks range

Today I was talking to a friend on my cellphone when my MIL called.  I wanted to answer her, but figured that it wasn’t worth hanging up with my friend, since I never manage to catch beeps, anyways.  Plus, if it was urgent, she’d call Yitzchak.

Fifteen minutes later, after I was off the phone with my friend, Yitzchak calls me.  He says, “First of all, Jack (his brother, who recently made aliya) is okay.  There was a rocket attack on a city ten minutes away from Ne’an (where Jack is living), and some people were hurt, but Jack is okay.”

“You know what?” I say.  “I didn’t need to hear that.  I didn’t even know that a rocket had fallen.  If I don’t HAVE to hear it, PLEASE don’t tell me news.  I just don’t want to know.”

“Okay, sorry,” Yitzchak says.  (Later today, he informs me that three Chabad chassidim were killed.  I told you, I don’t want to know.)

I don’t want to know the news.  I only heard yesterday that the IDF was calling up reservists, and suddenly, today, they attack Gaza.  It’s smart.  It uses a large element of surprise.  It doesn’t allow Hamas to mobilize forces to avenge their savage leader’s death.

It’s very smart – especially since if they’re calling up reservists, most Israelis will suspect something, and the longer they suspect, the more the news will leak.  Because here in Israel, almost every family has someone in the army or the reserves.  And having the whole country knowing that there’s a war about to break out doesn’t help intelligence, does it?

But you know what?  I don’t want to know.  It’s not that I don’t care.  I do care.  I care very deeply.  But reading the news makes me mad.

It makes me mad that Jewish blood is cheap, that Hamas is allowed to fire dozens of rockets at us each week, or sometimes each day, terrorizing the lives of our brothers, our friends, and our relatives, and sometimes permanently injuring them or killing them.

It makes me mad to think about the emotional scars that will be left on those who survive, even if they are not hit, and by some sheer luck, don’t see a rocket actually fall.

It makes me mad that Jewish blood is so cheap, that Jewish lives are so cheap, that we have to suffer rockets and bombs and terror attacks . . . and we are not allowed to defend ourselves.

Because dare we try to kill a savage terrorist, who does not abide by any of the Geneva conventions, who does not play fair, who kills civilians who did nothing wrong – dare we try to kill those terrorists, the world is horrified.  How dare we – how dare we defend ourselves, how dare we want to live in peace, how dare we kill murderers.

We should make peace.  We should make peace with those who want us dead; we should make peace with liars and murderers who care more about killing us than they do about their children living.  The basic right to defend ourselves, to live, we do not have.  It makes me mad.

So, I do not read the news.  I try to make sure that my loved ones are safe, that we have what we need in case of an emergency, and I don’t want to hear about the rest of the world until this is finished.  Because otherwise, I will lose my sanity in anger.  And I cannot afford to do that.

I cannot afford to be so angry, so paranoid, so downright mad at the stupidity of the world.  To be so angry at the bias and the anti-Semitism; at the propaganda and the lies and the hatred; at the murder and the blindness.  I have things to do; I have a child to take care of.

And in the end, the people who are in charge don’t care about my opinion anyways, nor am I able to do anything to change these facts of life.  So I may as well stuff my head in the sand, avoid Muslims whenever possible, and make sure that we are safe.

Because no one cares.  No one cares if Jewish blood is spilled, no one cares if we live in constant terror.  No one cares.

No other country would have to put up with this kind of savagery, with this kind of terrorism.

But we are Jews, and so the world doesn’t care.  We are Jews.  People are allowed to deny the Holocaust, and people are allowed to spill our blood with no regrets and no thoughts of punishment.  Because we are Jews, our blood is cheap.

It doesn’t matter that we are humans; that the very thought that our blood is cheap is a scary thought; or that we live in fear of terror attacks every day, while we provide water and electricity to the terrorists who are behind these attacks.  We must provide them with water and electricity.

We are Jews, and we are humane.

We are Jews, and if we do not want to help our enemies, then it is our fault that they suffer, and the world hates us.

We are Jews and no one cares about us.  They only care about defending savage terrorists.

5 thoughts on “Don’t Tell Me News

  1. I know that in the grand scheme of things, one American’s opinion doesn’t matter, but does it help even a little bit to know that I agree with you? I don’t think it’s right or fair. Keeping your family in my prayers. May you always be safe and kept from harm.


  2. Pingback: Not Politics, But . . . | Little Duckies

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