The events in Israel sadden me. I got an email from an artist with a shop on Cardo Street, in Jerusalem’s Old City. The whole place is closed now, because of Saturday’s attack, but he is keeping vigil outside his store.

I was thinking about the striking contrasts yesterday, as I sat at a wedding reception, a celebration for a young couple for whom the events in Israel and Gaza are most likely of peripheral concern, at best. It’s that dynamic that always gives me pause—contemplating the thin line between peace and terror, between simply going about a mundane, relatively peaceful day that’s taken for granted, and being hunted and gunned down by people who, for mostly irrational reasons, hate you.

I’m not condoning Hamas’s behavior—they do skip the step of actually sitting down and talking out their grievances, after all. And they are possessed of a certain religious zeal and lunacy that only preaches poison.

You’d think by now, though, that both sides would know that retaliation—whether surgical or more widespread—is at best a short-term tactic. Tenuous, fragile, ghastly in cost, and somehow lazy, deepening the hate.

It makes the rest of us think that neither side really wants a solution, that the only avenue available is to fight until no one is left.

Two point three million people enduring a constant blockade, in a space about one-tenth the size of Rhode Island? One person’s terrorist is another’s oppressed victim. One can be kept down for only so long before you don’t care anymore about the consequences of retaliation.

On the other hand, Hamas wants to rid the Middle East of Jews, and Hamas apparently controls Gaza. What is Israel supposed to do? The dynamics and realities perpetuate the struggle on both sides.

Israel’s homeland comes with so many strings attached. I will never fully comprehend Israelis living the way they do—trying to live a modern life but living it under constant scrutiny, constantly hounded and haunted by animosities both ancient and contemporary.

They appear, to me anyway, to exist on the edge of imminent collapse and disaster, never really being able to rest or find contentment or simply get through a day without worrying about threat levels. They’re all part civilian, part soldier, to some extent always on guard. They’re surrounded on three sides by people and countries harboring various levels of animosity, some who wish them harm, who wish they weren’t there, some of whom are always plotting how to get rid of them.

There might be too many concessions to think of the place as the promised land. Being chosen has come at a terrible cost. It might be tempting to throw off that mantle. It might be tempting to question God’s wisdom, even God’s existence, but that’s been happening all along the way.

I had to reacquaint myself with the map of Israel this afternoon. I had forgotten exactly where the Gaza Strip is located.

Israel is about the size of New Jersey. In terms of land area, the Gaza Strip is a bit more than one-tenth the size of Rhode Island, home to 2.3 million people, bordering Israel on its north and east, the Mediterranean Sea on the West, and Egypt on the south. I don’t know much else about it, other than it is a hotbed for Hamas, who somehow has been able to launch an attack now being labeled Pearl Harbor-like in its effects.

Israel’s Iron Dome either failed wholesale, or was overwhelmed by the barrage of incoming rockets that was used as a distraction while ground forces penetrated what looks to be a less-than-formidable wall in places near Israeli border areas. Since it’s early in whatever this event will grow to be, it seems predictable that many questions will be asked, among them, How could Israel have been so blindsided? What happened to their highly touted intelligence apparatus? What larger geopolitical machinations have come to bear on this situation? Who’s supplying the hardware for Hamas?

On a related note, why the hell can’t people figure this out? How can both sides keep living this way? Sleeping with one eye open, walking on egg shells, annoying each other constantly, preparing for the worst, always wondering when the next life-threatening flare-up is going to be, never really feeling like they live in a place that offers any semblance of stability. Find a way to make peace and stop this bloody insanity!

But God is great, right? It’s all about what God wants, all about what the holy books dictate. Maybe it’s time to take a holiday from the holy books and dare to dream of a peace that lasts longer than the next cease fire. Everyone wants a place to call home. Work it out, concessions and all!

Unless the preference is for some last man standing.

Why does what Trump thinks matter? He really doesn’t know anything besides the art of manipulation. He’s a living and breathing con. He spends many a waking hour figuring out how to stay ahead of trouble.

How sad is the life whose only claims to fame are being good at pulling the wool over peoples’ eyes and being a bombastic dunce?

They all look like villains, like real-life Borises and Natashas angry to their core, with their hair on fire.

Jim Jordan wins backing from Trump (of course) for the Speakership, and Jordan says he won’t expel Matt Gaetz. They’ll keep the whole smarmy crew together, ready to wreak havoc on an exhausted nation, ready to offer up nothing helpful– just glaring incompetence, more hard feelings, and a knack for misjudgment.

It’s hard to be hopeful. If they prevail, then stick a fork in us. It’s difficult to conceive of any valuable legislation being passed as long as this bunch controls the gavel.

It might be tempting to walk away from all this, to ignore the bombast and apocalytpic rhetoric, to not care, tune out the noise, hide under a rock. But how can we do that?

Is there any rational soul left on the right?

Yes, let’s do the calculus… Make the guy whose moral code is in the swamp, who was recently slapped with a gag order, Speaker of the House. Make the guy with 4 pending indictments and 91 felony counts Speaker of the House. Make the guy who can’t scratch his way out of a wet paper bag linguistically or manage a lemonade stand Speaker of the House. Make the guy whose emotional maturity ranks right up there with an angry 3-year old who can’t have another chicken nugget Speaker of the House. Make the guy whose grasp of American history and governance is akin to someone who doesn’t give a shit about any of that… Speaker. of. the. House.

Can’t say it comes as a surprise that this insanity has been floated.

1100

Steve Scalise and Jim Jordan. There’s a duo for the ages. Both have put their hat in the ring for the Speakership. Might as well check with MTG and Ms. Boebert, too.

Oh my. And people thought Kevin McCarthy was a poor choice.

The Republican Party just keeps distinguishing itself. Next thing you know, someone will suggest that Donald Trump might be available for the job.

October is offering up indications of its usual bumpy financial ride (what is it about October and market fluctuations?). But this year there is the added, troubling dynamic of a Republican Party that seems insistent on self-immolation.

They hold a slim majority in the House, yet there is little indication they are serious about responsible governance. I am fearful that the people with the loudest voices are not at all concerned with clear-headed, rational leadership. Their agenda seems to consist of nothing more than fomenting chaos. Or maybe this is all they’re capable of. Maybe chaos is the point.

It’s a mind-blowing situation, evoking all sorts of questions, like “Who’s the next Speaker, and will s/he be as compromised as Kevin McCarthy, or just another contrary loose cannon with no interest in accomplishing anything constructive and helpful?”

It’s disheartening, and hard to watch, because we really don’t have time for this incompetence and failure of character.

Stop trying to imitate Donald Trump, and get your shit together.

Matt Gaetz is the poster child for sleaze. How did he get elected, and what did he promise his constituents that persuaded them to decide he was a good idea?

It’s unclear what makes him tick, or whose pocket he’s in, but based on a couple tidbits from Rachel Maddow last night, it sounds like he could be in cahoots with White Nationalists and might be a fan of Elon Musk’s subverted take on America.

It’s just one nightmare after another in the Republican Party. People really need to stop calling it the party of Lincoln, even if they’re doing it ironically. Or sarcastically.

In his mind, he doesn’t have a choice. He has to play it like he’s got a chance, has to forge ahead as if his slate is clean. He’ll always have The Base sitting at his feet. He’ll have his cronies in Congress, Fox News will have his back, and diehard Republicans will probably vote for him if he emerges as the frontrunner.

There’s the part, though, that seems so outrageous— Trump as frontrunner. He’s playing this like it’s a matter of course, like “What’s the big deal? Of course I’m running again, because I’ve done nothing but build an empire and make perfect phone calls, and I got screwed in 2020. Besides, people love me.”

He obviously is having trouble acknowledging the more sobering reality that his lifelong pursuits of money and power are showing signs of fatigue and fragility– more a pursuit of wind. And then there’s the equally sobering realization that he’s been an asshole for most of his life, and payback might be a bitch.

Our only hope is that enough people come around to see him as the shallow, incompetent blowhard that he’s always been.

How dare he insist on hanging around! He’s always been bad at shutting his mouth and knowing when to walk away, and now– finally, maybe– it’s too late for that.