I’m madder than a doctor without a passport at a border, over the way these woke Liberal leftists are blocking traffic, holding up banks, and being a general nuisance all in support of the make-believe state of Palestine.
Folks, these Gazaruptions™ need to end now!
Why just the other day I was taking my wife, Greta, on a romantic weekend to a gun show in Ohio when we were delayed six hours at a train station due to a Gazagaggle™ of woketard college kids chanting “Free Palestine.”
“You remember what it was like in the 60s,” my wife said. “Protests, love-ins, and LSD.”
“No,” I said, “I was knee deep in the shit.”
“You were a reporter, filing stories out of Hawaii,” she corrected me.
“We got our boots dirty,” I tried to argue.
Still, perhaps the hippies in the sixties had a point. Our boys were being wiped out left and right, but Palestine? CRY ME A RIVER TO THE SEA!!! We don’t even have a dog in the fight and, yet, these next current thing trustafarian Hamas hipsters are acting like they’re about to be drafted (Please, oh, please, sleepy Joe Brandon, if you do one thing in your four years—ed).
I’ll Take That to Go!
But I digress, where were all these screaming “intellects” when the real freedom fighting truckers were parking their rigs in front of dictator Trudeau’s CCP satellite office? Ah, right, they were masked up to their eyeballs in their mother’s basement fighting “misinformation” on Reddit and booking their next vaccine appointment.
I finally had it when I turned on my television the other night and witnessed a bunch of these libidiots™ protesting a literary award’s show. As the author of the Johnny Jock PI series I understand the blood, sweat, and mother issues that go into writing a great novel. But these yahoos, they were ranting about banks funding wars and investing in genocide, even making the poor washed-up host unsure of what to say or do.
Back in Honolulu we had a word for these bleeding hearts and it rhymes with wussy. I’d had enough.
A Generous Act of Genocide
After firing up my Lenovo Thinkpad, I poked around the chat rooms until I found the next Gazaruption™, which was taking place at a bullet factory next to the Ikea a few miles from my suburban homestead.
I grabbed my gear and headed out. Toby P. Gelman was ready to teach these kids a lesson: money makes the world go round. Terrorism is worse than a bombed out hospital, which only had a year or two left anyway. You want to boycott something, try government-funded media, to start. The US/Israeli coalition has a job to do and you’re getting in the way of Uncle Sam Rubenstein!
To Live and Die in Gaza City
But when I arrived, my anger subsided. After about an hour I learned that the Gazaruptions™ weren’t about beating Israel or taking land back, they were about putting down weapons and taking a seat at the table. The very same things that I wrote about in my most recent self-published Johnny Jock Pi novel War and a Piece of the Pie (shortlisted for the Toby P. Gelman Novel Prize—ed).
The protests were about exposing these fat cat bankers who are funding these wars so that they can join the billionaire club and buy bigger yachts. Nobody wanted to see a Palestinian die or an Israeli die. They just wanted an end to a globalist agenda that is making us regular folks—the ones who are really knee deep in shit—survive another day.
Funny enough, I even met some Israelis there, including Rabbi Sam Rubenstein (not related). I realized that protesting the death of people isn’t about political divisions, it’s about humanity. The globalists and liars in the media will tell you otherwise, of course. They’ll cancel and destroy anyone who tries to mess with their blood money message.
When I got home I found Greta sitting by the TV watching the latest mainstream reporter talk about Israel as a victim, as a missile landed in a Palestinian refugee camp. I said, “Pardon the Gazaruption™, but turn this shit off.”
