A Harvest of Sorrow

Of what comfort will my writing this be to those who are being bombed in Gaza, or those whose loved ones lay bleeding in the aftermath of a concert? None. So what, then, is the point of my writing this?

I’ve seen a rapid coalescing of my friends and associates—of intelligent and honorable people—into two distinct and separate camps: those who demand blood for the spilled blood of the thousand-plus Israelis who have been killed in an almost unprecedented terrorist act, and those who justify said attacks, suggesting in someway that the Israelis at the concert are an acceptable sacrifice for…what was that phrase…reshuffling the deck?