Despicable, Indigenous Me

We’re winning this war we did not start and we’re sorry not sorry.

You have to admit even by our standards, things are pretty bad.

Not Roman level destruction of Jerusalem bad; not Wannsee Conference bad—let’s not get carried away into exile and gas chambers, yet—but not that far off, bad.

Genocide Apologist! Settler Colonialist! Baby Killer! Rapist! The Most Despicable, Evil Society on Earth!

If it were up to many, many people, there’d be a Wannsee Conference 2.0. Maybe even back at Wannsee. It’s nice this time of year.

Wannsee, the Lake.

Wannsee, the Villa.

Shame, the Germans are having a hard time with us. I really feel for them. It’s hard for them to get their heads around the idea that Israelis are the Nazis now. But they’re getting there. And they’re not alone.

From Berlin to Bangladesh, Vienna to Vancouver, Sydney to Soweto, we are the new Apartheid. I knew the Old Apartheid well actually. I was raised in its belly, neck deep with the stiff-necked Afrikaners. Now, irony of ironies, I’m raising my children in the New Apartheid. My sweet, beautiful children, tainted, drenched in the blood of innocent indigenous infants. How sad.

Sad but not sad. Sorry not sorry. Don’t misunderstand me: I will do anything to keep my children alive. Even drench them in blood for the ages. Teach them to fight to win. Teach them to make weapons. Teach them to use weapons. Teach them the truth about where they are in the world and why they are here. I won’t teach them to hate, that will happen naturally, Inshallah. Teach them the lessons of power: When in Rome, do as the Romans. When in the Middle East, do as the Romans.

And this is what the hating horde can’t get through its head. They still think we’re Those Jews. Those “do unto others as you would have them do unto you” Jews. Those Jews are gone. They’re in the ovens. These Jews are back here. These Jews “do unto others so that they can never again do unto you.”

We’re Middle East, again. We’re Semite, again. We live and die for real, not in your reel. We bury and build; you just like and subscribe. We’re indigenous, and we’re despicable. We’re winning this war we did not start and we’re sorry not sorry.

To paraphrase our High Priest L. Cohen, you can take your human rights reports and shove them up the hole in your culture. We’re taking the dog inside us for a walk on the wild side. We’re starving, killing, humiliating, and destroying the enemy during the day, and barbecuing his bones at the beach at night. These are the days of our lives, and we’re living them until it’s all over. We’re not the new Nazis, we’re the Old Jews, for better or worse. For now it’s worse, so be it.

Sleep my little colonialist killer angels, tomorrow is another day.