The Minister of Defense has decided on the entry of 10,000 Gazan workers into Israel.
I was worried.
10,000 people entering the country every day - how soon will the first disaster happen to a worker whose national and religious feelings will overcome the feelings of gratitude he is supposed to feel towards his hosts?
Who will be the first employer to be slaughtered in a greenhouse, to be stabbed in a factory, to be murdered by the worker, who was so friendly, so reliable, can't believe it actually happened to him?
People my age still remember well the Peugeot 404 convoys that come to work in Israel, a blue plaque and the letter A on the side.
Some were charming people, some were scary.
I formed a warm friendship with the electrician Tawfiq who worked for me, and when the strip closed, we sometimes talked on the phone when his condition worsened, until I disappeared.
Some begged to move to live in the country, wanted peace and a life together.
I suppose Hamas got it.
And on the other hand, I also remember the least nice ones, the harassment of women from the scaffolding at the construction sites where they worked, the fiery looks of hatred, the violent incidents.
More than 16 years have passed since leaving Gaza.
There was a generation that did not work for us, that did not speak Hebrew, that absorbed and absorbed the Nazi-Islamic propaganda morning and evening.
A generation that does not know the human aspects of our society closely, that has not made friendly contact with any Israeli.
So okay, they need a livelihood, and if possible help - have fun.
But to bring them into our home?
How much can the obvious be denied?
And there must be good, miserable people in Gaza who are under Hamas captivity and deserve a good life.
But how exactly am I supposed to separate them from those whose minds are enslaved to murderous anti-Semitism?
Is there a mirror device that also examines the kidneys and heart?
What stick can be pushed somewhere and know who is who?
Workers from Gaza should not be brought into the country.
No country brings its most bitter enemies into its territory.
If you want to get better with them, you can set up factories in their area and give them work.
The problems of working in agriculture can be solved with foreign workers from countries where the murder of Jews has not been studied since pre-compulsory age.
There should be an iron wall between us and them, as one said, Ze'ev Jabotinsky.
squid
I was wrong.
I watched Netflix in two episodes of "The Squid Game."
Depression has taken over me, and may not have passed yet.
For those who have not yet been exposed (caution, spoiler) - these are games like our childhood games, such as "Salted Fish", which are played by people with no choice with large financial debts.
The last one left gets a lot of money, and everyone else is executed on the playground with the help of computerized machine guns.
I know, it's just a parable, and it's so aesthetic and amazing, and it's the most watched series in the world right now.
know it all.
Nothing I say will change this situation.
I just want to add that the nausea that gripped me while watching and at the end made me happy, because it reported remnants of a soul that existed within me, a soul that could not bear such a Nazi worldview as something to amuse itself with.
The machine gun bullets that keep the brains in slow motion shock me, even if it's terribly successful in Korea.
Mass killing terrifies me, even if the letter N of Netflix appears before the massacre begins.
And I thought I was grateful that most of my life was once, and only its end takes place now and a little later. I am really happy that I grew up and grew up in a world without social networks, with reasonable politics, without porn at all, without extreme violence shaped as a sensual experience. I grew up and matured and shaped in the world of yesterday, and I carry his memory in every cell of my body cells. And I thought I had no place in my heart for all the sorrow I feel for the people who watch this squid and think it's cool, and for humanity in general, who has taken the path to change that those who grew up in the past will no longer be able to understand, and those who grew up today will not be able to understand us.
If you ever told me that one day I would cuddle up to the past, I would laugh in your face.
I used to be "the next thing", so I canceled everything that was.
Then I was "the present thing," and here I find myself "the past thing."
But contrary to my greatest fear, that the new generation will throw me away in old age, I now find that being the "past thing" suits me.
Because I do not want to be in matters.
Do not want to hear the music of the young people, it leaves me arid.
And do not want to watch series that are successful now, they do not arouse love in me.
And does not want to be in all the ticketing, story, insta-shminsta matters.
Also not interested in prolonging too much, the world will already be impossible for me to live.
Let me groom the girls, take a look at the grandchildren, and bye.
My dear daughters, sorry, I did not know where the world was going.
In my life.
Hope for you that you will be able to integrate.
Or rather, have the courage not to fit in, stop the binge even if your heart wants more.
out of
A curse haunts me from my birthday.
Every product I have ever been attached to, and I said: This is my product for the world to come - off the shelves in a short time and gone forever.
This is true in the field of food (where are the frozen croquettes, which warmed up my lunches?), The clothing (why exactly did my pants model stop producing before I bought two more pairs?), Cosmetics (where did the shampoo with the perfect scent "pines" go?) And culture ( Why did the Beatles break up?).
Wherever I stuck McLean and declared "I found!", The laws of the cruel universe came and proved to me that it was a bad idea to attach to a certain kind of perishable objects, because someone would stop producing them just when I discovered them.
Recently it happened with tea tree gel.
If you did not know him, it's too late.
Before it disappeared, it was the perfect remedy for mosquito bites, and I, when stung by an Asian tiger mosquito, reacted badly to it.
An hour after the bite, a small camp can be built on the swollen area, including a trailer and everything.
The gel of the tea tree, as far as the sting is concerned - it withdrew in the face of a force stronger from it and returned to its base.
So in our house there are some tubes of this magic, ready for any reading, day and night, literally a bar-gel dome system.
One day the stock at home ran out, and I turned to order from an Internet meter, and he said: Out of stock.
I said to myself: Probably only in this store, I will turn to another place.
There, too, ran out.
And on Amazon, too, in Jeff Bezos' house, there was none.
Suddenly the product disappeared from the world as if it had never existed.
You will know why this happens, but my emotional system was not surprised - again I developed a dependence on something, and again it disappeared.
Spiritual lesson.
And the bites continue, and the last drops of the magical gel are squeezed out of the last tube, and a gloomy future draws near.
Then the girl who likes to make slime, mix things up and make potions said: "Dad, we have tea tree oil in this vial, right? Maybe we'll mix it with gel and make ourselves the wonder gel?".
We bought a simple aloe vera gel, which is cute in itself but does not reach the ankles of the tea, and mixed in it drops of pure tea tree oil, and filled the tube, and waited slowly for the winning mosquito.
And she came, and stung, and the sting swelled, and a drop of homemade gel was smeared on the spot - and poof, disappeared in a second.
That's how we defeated our fate.
Own production.
If you need, contact us, start selling soon.
No bites.
avrigilad@gmail.com