A hungry Israeli arrived one day at one of the branches of a fairly fast and well-known patty chain.
At the entrance to the branch, he noticed the address "Kosher", and that was enough for him, as it is enough for a large part of the kosher keepers in Israel.
A peek at the menu taught him that there is also a cheeseburger at this branch.
Kosher.
There is no doubt that we have reached good old days, and today you can find vegan substitutes for any carnivorous dream, gluten-free or lactose-free pizzas, and kosher versions of mini-trips that were once forbidden to even mention oil.
And not only are there substitutes, recently some of them have been revealed as a happy and tasty surprise.
Gone are the days of the horrible soy patties in the dorm room.
The days of bleaching coffee are over and forgotten, about which it is said "all the bleacher, etc. has no part and has no desire."
Even ancient Jerusalemites already know how to ask for "cappuccino on oats" and enjoy good cashew cheese.
And no less important, Jewish law is still encouraging, and as long as we have not heard of a call to aggravate and keep six hours between corn schnitzel and almond milk, it is worth hurrying up and checking out what is being offered to us here.
You will know what will happen tomorrow.
Come on, let's take the cheeseburger, the intrigued customer told himself.
The truth?
You can understand it.
After a bite or two he blinked and mumbled "blackmailer."
Buena Habriko, he apparently told the guy behind the counter.
You played it.
It's hard to believe this is not real cheese.
Well, the guy replied, it's because the cheese is real.
Ahh, confused the surprised customer, so the patty is vegetarian?
Because I was willing to swear it was meat.
"Why would she be a vegetarian?"
Asked the salesman.
"Because kosher here?"
Our friend clung to the last lifeline still floating around.
He had not yet bitten half a bun and had already lost his appetite.
It gradually became clear that the branch had not been kosher for a long time.
This is just the address that is still alive outside because they forgot to update.
A classic case of customer fraud, false advertising and Israblof is commonplace.
The network's management provided a response that redefines the current spokesperson blah-blah.
Not shame or disgrace, but an attempt to turn this event into a marketing opportunity as well, where one can repeatedly repeat the brand name and engrave the mantra "our company does and will do everything".
From here things will probably get to court, and it is difficult to see which side the judges will find a right to a business that "forgets" to remove a sign after it is no longer completely irrelevant.
But what caught my eye and gave me no rest, were dozens of angry reactions from internet responders, who did not think there was a problem with the fast food chain, but rather with the customer (the blackmailer. The hypocrite. Who makes a living from product complaints) and with training guards wherever they are (parasites. Primitive .To enter our lives. Believe in an imaginary friend, etc., etc.).
One respondent testified that he is an atheist who does not keep the commandments, but respects the right of anyone who wants to keep a tradition, and especially thinks that customer fraud is a serious offense.
Other commenters slammed him for being "not a true atheist" if he did not despise believers.
I admit I was surprised.
Even if we assume for the purpose of the discussion that 20 percent of the participants in the "discussion" were human beings of flesh and blood, and not blunt in a shekel and a half, even then we have a problem.
• • •
Ask: Why do you read talkbacks?
This is of course a great question.
And she's also completely stupid.
What do you mean why do you read talkbacks?
And why do people scratch old wounds?
Why get into a political conversation in a taxi or at a barbershop?
I'm just a human being, and sometimes an naive ad appears on the screen offering to click to see all the reactions, and like Alice in Wonderland the need arises to see what happens if we click.
A moment later I have to work hard to vaguely remember why I still have a certain affection for the human race.
Do I not know in advance that nothing good will come out of me at a glance in the world of the respondents?
Knows.
Still, I could not remain indifferent to the flurries of stupidity and hatred.
Many Israelis do not want to eat meat and milk.
Many of them do not define themselves as religious, or at least do not send their children to religious education.
Some will not eat it because so God has commanded, and some simply because it does not eat in their eyes.
It is a matter of faith, of the yoke of mitzvos or of culture.
Know what?
Some kosher observers may also ask questions such as why this particular prohibition on eating a goat in its mother's milk, which is mentioned three times in the Torah, has received such treatment at such a resolution that the prohibition on withholding wages, for example, has not been granted.
You can ask all kinds of questions, but the bottom line is it really does not matter to anyone why I do not want to eat meat in milk.
Either way, no one has the right to put me on a plate something I am not willing to eat.
And no, no one has the right to publish a headline in front of his business that might mislead me.
And the first to support this principle are those unwilling freedom fighters who will enter their plate.
But again it turns out that once a person gets into a position, he has no more principles.
He only has a camp.
And everyone else, anyone outside the camp, can go to hell.
It's hard to think of a worse way to talk about something.
It is not pleasant to say this, but the feeling these days, at the end of spring, is that too large parts of the Israeli discourse are already there, deep in the camps.
I have no doubt that we all bear responsibility for this evil, I have no idea how to get out of it.
Meir Ariel once wrote great lines about summer seeds that hint at what a summer is going to be like.
At the moment it seems like a piece of summer camp is waiting for us.
Charlie Catcherley.
• • •
We had some warm days this week, summer seeds like that, and it was fun to go out with the family to places where you can get wet even before the big holiday.
In one such place, in the north, with his feet in the water, a fellow played his music.
Another family actually wanted quiet.
Someone remarked to him "please without this music now".
And boom!
This!
It was immediately clear to the guy, even to his guys, that there was a racist attack here.
"Okay, Mozart will play for her," someone said.
Too thick walls rose too fast.
Too fast to try to clear up the misunderstanding.
I sat there in one of the most beautiful places in the country and longed to be anywhere else.
It was clear we were a bit looking for a fight.
But it is still not clear in what name, and especially for what we are looking for it.
shishabat@israelhayom.co.il
Were we wrong?
Fixed!
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