What I'd Give Up

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What I'd give up to be with you,

I'd give up my looks, my money, my youth,

I'd give up my God, I'd give up my faith,

I'd give up whatever, you chose to take.

I'm an old man encircled by years,

Count all my blessings and discard my fears,

Try to remember, not to live in the past,

Not hold on to something I know that won't last.

I try to look busy when really I'm not,

The religion I compose between whiskey shots,

The tide of the laughter that leaves with the moon,

I bid 'Farewell my friend, see you again soon'.

Time is my teacher and love is my rule,

Sometimes it's hard, and sometimes it's cruel,

But one thing's for sure the hours slip away,

And the dishes in the sink can wait another day.

Therapy Notes

Childhood wasn't any crappier than most. Probably a lot better. No abuse - at least not the kind that leaves physical scars. 

Had money. Family was upper-middle class affluent. Unreligious. Traditional family roles. Father was a businessman. Mother was a homemaker. Eleven year age difference.  

Father grew up working class in the Depression. Mother was well-off.

Mother read self-help books, wrote in a journal, did her job but became increasingly dissatisfied and unhappy. 

Mother had lots of hobbies; rode horses, took a correspondence course to become a veterinary medical technician, photography. Only amounted to temporary distractions. 

Mother decided she wanted out of marriage when kids were in high-school. Told the kids that Father had stayed the same, but she'd changed. 

Mother also said "I'm done being a martyr." 

Was 'the baby' of the family and Mother was protective. After parents split stayed with Mother. 

Father was the baby of his family too. Also had a protective mother. Lived at home until he was 30 years old.

Lived with Mother as she was dating. Kicked him out at 25. 

Never had much in common with Father. Father didn't offer financial help or guidance. 

Never asked Father for anything because strings were attached. Any hand-out was packaged in  expectation and disappointment. 

Father would say, "When I die all my money will be yours anyway," like it was a warning. 

Told Father, "I don't want your money," which was only partially true. 

Both parents eventually died after brief illnesses. 

Says it was quick, "As if they'd decided they weren't worthy of being cared for by others."

Says he finally felt liberated. 

Got some inheritance, like Father promised. Made life a bit easier. 

Says he could finally appreciate parents for giving what they could without feeling guilty for receiving it. 

Says not having expectations is why he doesn't feel lonely. Accepts people for who they are. Observes that if you expect the people around you to be who you want them to be, then you will be lonely, because only you matter. 

Doesn't blame parents.

Wants to know why he’s never been in love.

The Dream Is Dead

The Dream Is Dead."

This was how someone described Israel to me in the aftermath of the recent Israeli election. When I heard it, a chill ran down my spine.

Out of respect for the source, I won't say who made the remark. But I will say that it came from an esteemed and respected Jerusalemite who served for decades as an Israeli dignitary and held very senior positions in government.

I knew exactly what he meant.

The dream he was referring to was the creation of an enlightened, European-style democracy for the Jewish people in the Middle East. It was the dream of the modern Zionist movement, founded by Theodor Herzl, and articulated in the Israeli Declaration of Independence.

By "dead," he meant that this is no longer the Israel we have, or are likely to have in the future. The Israel we have is increasingly becoming a Middle Eastern theological ethno-state, one that is closer in character to other countries in the region, such as Lebanon, Syria, Jordan and Saudi Arabia, than to Britain and France.

In other words, the Occidental (Western, Ashkenazi) vision has lost ground to a more Mizrahi (Eastern, Sephardi) conception of a Jewish homeland.

The comment was deeply personal and emotional for the speaker. As mentioned, it came from someone who had devoted decades of his life to a particular vision of the country, one that he no longer recognizes. Incidentally, he has been retired from public service for many years.

The genius of democracy—when it functions reasonably well, not necessarily perfectly—is that its results provide a reasonably accurate portrait of where a society stands at a particular moment in time.

What are we to glean from the portrait of Israel sketched by the recent election?

The election results:

• Likud bloc (right-wing, religious, pro-Netanyahu) – 53 seats

• Opposition bloc (centrist and left-wing, secular, anti-Netanyahu) – 48 seats

• Arab parties – 19 seats

A few basic observations (admittedly, with some generalizations):

• The Netanyahu-led right-wing coalition lost its parliamentary majority.

• The parties opposed to Netanyahu collectively hold a majority of seats, although they are divided over whether and how to cooperate with the Arab parties.

• The Arab parties made the most significant gains.

A lot of people don't like the portrait they see, on both the right and the left.

On the centre-left, there is disappointment that Netanyahu's coalition still holds the largest bloc of seats. The election did not decisively end his political career, and full accountability for October 7 remains an open question.

On the right, there is unhappiness over the political gains made by Arab parties, which many on that side of the political spectrum regard as incompatible with their vision of a Jewish state and their security concerns.

Predictably, Netanyahu and his party are already alleging that the election was corrupted by fraud and outside interference.

But what I see, and I think what the speaker of the "Dream Is Dead" comment sees, is a country divided between its original Western aspirations and its Middle Eastern political reality. That the very things that distinguish a liberal democracy may be viewed by an increasingly large segment of the population as luxuries that cannot be afforded.

This shift towards a more Mizrahi political orientation is not simply the result of external factors. It is also a consequence of the changing character of Israeli society, following the social and political integration of Jewish immigrants from North Africa and the Middle East, including Morocco, Algeria, Tunisia, Egypt, Iraq, Iran, Turkey, Libya and Yemen. Jews of Mizrahi and Sephardi backgrounds constitute a very substantial proportion of Israel's Jewish population, as much as 45%.

Until at least the mid-1970s, Mizrahi Jews were widely treated as second-class citizens by the predominantly Ashkenazi establishment. They enjoyed full legal voting rights and citizenship, but faced systemic discrimination, cultural marginalization and significant economic disadvantages.

The socioeconomic disparities created during those early decades have left a lasting legacy. They remain evident in aspects of educational attainment, economic opportunity and representation in some of the country's most influential institutions, including academia, the judiciary and the upper echelons of government.

Meanwhile, Mizrahi Jews, who are orthodox and more traditional than Ashkenazi Jews, have learned how to flex their political muscle.

In a way, what we are seeing today in Israeli politics is a case of chickens coming home to roost.

Head Fake

I don't have any social media accounts (Facebook, Instagram, TikTok, etc.), but I am a regular on YouTube. The reason is twofold. First, I feel I can control what I choose to watch. It's more like switching television channels than scrolling through an endless feed of slop. Second, the content is generally longer and more thoughtful.

I subscribe to only a handful of YouTube channels, so the notifications are kept to a minimum. They feed my hobby interests, like music, and are therefore more about deepening my knowledge of particular subjects than simply filling time.

One of the channels I subscribe to, which I believe I've mentioned in previous posts, belongs to a fellow who calls himself The Functional Melancholic. I'd characterize his work as commentary on contemporary life, delivered with dry wit and dark humour. He posts about once a week, speaking in a slow, halting fashion about philosophy, psychology, sociology and spirituality (mostly Eastern) for 30–45 minutes. It's heady stuff, and he usually refers to source books and provides a reading list.

In addition to being thoughtful and funny, I find his videos comforting, in a commiserating sort of way.

He talks about things we've all confronted. This week, he posted a video called The Myth of Normal, about the difficulties and rewards of living a nonconformist life. But then, in the same week, another video appeared, this one on the subject of Population Decline and the Quiet Rise of Natalism.

That's unusual, I thought. Two videos in one week. I clicked on it. Yes, it's him. Except I immediately noticed that it was a different channel. Instead of The Functional Melancholic, it was called The Lucid Outsider. Ha! Playing on the title of his other channel, I thought.

I watched for a few minutes. Everything seemed normal. I figured he'd started a second channel, perhaps one with a more political orientation. I'd seen other YouTubers do that before.

But after a few minutes, something seemed ever so slightly off. He looked and sounded exactly the same. Same style, same delivery, even the same dry wit, although not quite as biting or funny. Not one of his better posts. And there were brief moments when the image seemed unnatural, but only for a split second.

Then I started reading the comments underneath, and there it was: A comment from The Functional Melancholic himself, saying it was fake, a scam, and not his. Other comments confirmed that it was an AI impersonation.

I felt almost embarrassed that I'd fallen for it.

This was the second video I'd watched that week exposing fakery on the internet. The other was about a musician who mimes his supposedly virtuoso bass guitar solos onstage, playing along to pre-recorded material. He'd tricked some very famous musicians and music teachers with his apparent skill. That video attracted almost a million views and more than 6,000 comments in 48 hours. 

Remember, we're talking about a video about a bass player.

Another YouTuber I watch with some regularity is Wings of Pegasus. He's made an entire career out of expertly analysing supposedly 'live' singing performances, whether in concert or on video, to determine if they've been faked through miming, autotuning or artificial pitch correction. The answer is that fakery has become pervasive. The music industry has bought in almost completely, ultimately, I believe, to its own detriment.

I've been reading a lot lately about people becoming disillusioned with the internet because of AI. The more fake content there is, the less people trust what they encounter, whether it's news, art or entertainment. The technological ecosystem that relies on audience attention as its bread and butter is at risk of losing that attention.

Or are we simply entering an arms race, with technologies designed to detect fakery competing against technologies designed to create it?

Frankly, that's not a world I'm interested in participating in.

There's a special irony in The Functional Melancholic's channel being faked. His content often explores the challenges of finding and maintaining personal authenticity in an increasingly inauthentic and alienating world. Lately, he's been posting from the middle of the forest while out on mountain hikes to underscore his point.

The contradiction is unavoidable.

If the medium is the message, as Marshall McLuhan famously put it, one wonders whether the only logical and authentic response is to turn the damn phone off.

Israel At A Crossroads

Israel is a deeply divided, deeply dysfunctional country. It has been moving in this direction for many years, and things have gotten progressively worse. I think we may be approaching a pivot point.

There's an old saying: "Two Jews, three opinions." We are a multifaceted people, and Israel is a wondrous expression of that diversity: an ingathering of cultures, languages, histories and religious orientations, from the ultra-Orthodox to the completely secular. The social, religious and political fault lines have always been there, and tiny Israel has had to find a way to accommodate all of them. Not an easy task.

But don't blame the people for their differences. Blame the politicians who have learned to exploit those differences, deepen the divisions and leverage them for political gain.

Which brings us to one of Israel's central dilemmas: Is it a Jewish state, or a state for the Jews and its other citizens, regardless of religion or ethnicity?

In other words, should it be a state in which Jewish identity and self-determination coexist with liberal democracy and equal citizenship? Or is it becoming a state increasingly governed by religious authority and an ethnonationalist conception of citizenship?

Israel began with democratic institutions and an aspiration to be a modern, pluralistic society. Yet for decades, it has been moving in a more religious and ethnonationalist direction, raising fundamental questions about the balance between Jewish identity, individual rights and democratic government.

Part of this shift is demographic. The ultra-Orthodox community is growing rapidly, through both higher birth rates and immigration. Its members tend to have a stronger religious motivation to live in Israel than many secular Jews do. Official projections suggest that the Haredi share of Israel's population could approach 30 percent by mid-century, up from roughly 13 percent today.

As religious parties have gained influence, particularly in Jerusalem and other areas with large religious populations, many secular Israelis have felt increasingly alienated from the country they call home. Some are voting with their feet.

According to figures based on Israel's Central Bureau of Statistics data, hundreds of thousands of Israeli citizens have left the country for extended periods since 2023. These figures require careful interpretation: leaving for several months is not necessarily permanent emigration, and departures alone do not establish a net population loss. Nevertheless, the increase in departures has intensified concern about whether Israel can retain the people, skills and civic commitments on which its future depends.

The complexion of Israel is visibly changing.

I first visited Jerusalem in 1991. The last time I was there was in 2010. It was like day and night. The first time, Jerusalem felt like a bustling cosmopolitan cultural centre. The second time, it felt like a mid-nineteenth-century Polish shtetl.

The political divisions have changed, too.

At Israel's founding, ideological differences were fierce, but political alliances could cross boundaries that now seem almost impossible to bridge. David Ben-Gurion's early governments included religious parties alongside secular Socialist-Zionists. The opposition, meanwhile, included parties associated with the communist left and the kibbutz movement.

Compare that to the most recent election.

The most remarkable shift has been the rise of the Arab parties. The Joint List, an alliance of predominantly Arab and non-Zionist parties, has emerged as a significant force (12 seats). Its priorities include civil equality for Arab citizens of Israel, opposition to the occupation and, among its constituent parties, a left-wing economic agenda.

Alongside the Joint List is Ra'am (7 seats), another Arab-led party with its own political approach. Together, the Arab parties could hold the parliamentary balance of power (19 seats).

For those who have advocated a so-called one-state solution, this is what it might look like.

Upon seeing the election exit polls, a work colleague whose ultra-Orthodox son lives with his family in Israel, said to me, "This is a disaster, the worst-case scenario."

Netanyahu's Likud and Gadi Eisenkot's Yashar, the two parties projected to win the most seats, have both rejected forming a government with the Arab parties. 

For too long, Israeli politics has been dominated by questions of security, both real and imagined: Who can best protect Israel against its enemies. Questions related to what kind of Israel we want to have have been pushed aside.

It is a sad irony that during this period of intense preoccupation with security, Israel suffered its most devastating security failure on October 7, 2023.

That, among other reasons, is why accountability is so important if Israel is to move forward. A country cannot learn from its failures, restore public trust or chart a new course without confronting the decisions and institutional shortcomings that brought it to this point.

Israel's founders had a vision for the country. It's time for a new vision to emerge. Because the question is not simply how Israel can survive the challenges it faces.

More importantly, it's what kind of country it wants to be. One that's worth protecting and saving.

'Feeling' Sick

How do you know you're sick?

1. You don't feel well.

2. You take your temperature.

Oddly, it works much the same way with economic and political sickness, especially in America.

If the polls are right, it appears trump and his party could be hammered in the coming midterm elections. Primarily for two reasons: people aren't feeling economically well, and every day they can see their economic temperature being taken on those giant signs beside the road at Mobil and Shell gas stations.

During Bill Clinton's successful first presidential run, his political strategist James Carville famously came up with the motto "It's the economy, stupid" to simplify the campaign's central message. America was going through a recession, and incumbent George H. W. Bush was seen as being out of touch with the financial difficulties of ordinary Americans.

Ever since, the economy has remained a powerful force in American elections. There's a strong relationship between economic conditions, including inflation and gas prices, and the political fortunes of the party in power.

Another major issue in recent decades has been immigration, often framed as an economic issue: immigrants take jobs, drive down wages and put pressure on public services.

Here in Canada, we see the same economic temperature signs, and we know things aren't great. In some important respects, they're worse than in the States. Canada's unemployment rate is higher, for example, and its economic growth has been weaker.

But we don't seem to feel quite as sick, and it's showing in the polls. Our current prime minister, Mark Carney, is the most popular politician in the country since Pierre Trudeau in the 1970s.

What's that all about? He doesn't have Trudeau's charm, wit, charisma or political savvy.

What he does have is intelligence, expertise and competence. We know we're sick, and Carney seems to be the doctor we want and trust to provide the treatment we need.

I think there's something else at play, too. Sickness is as much a state of mind as it is a physical ailment. Ask any physician and they'll tell you that a patient's outlook can influence how they cope with illness and treatment, even if a positive attitude alone can't determine the outcome.

Canadians generally seem willing to endure the economic threats we face because we believe we have something much more important at stake to defend: our sovereignty, our identity, our values and our self-respect.

Gas prices be damned.

I'm not arguing that the economy doesn't play an important role in our politics. Of course it does. Maybe even an outsized role, à la Carville.

But for Canadians, other factors are at play, and right now, they take precedence.

I'm as annoyed as the next guy every time I pass a Shell or Esso station. But on some level, those signs also remind me that there's much more at stake in this political moment.

For years, many Americans have been willing to accept from their politicians constant lies and gaslighting, massive corruption, blatant racism, cruelty and even the stripping away of fundamental constitutional rights. 

If, in the midterms, they're finally drawing a line in the sand over gas prices, I'll take it.

Forgive me for not thinking it means a fundamental change in character or political dynamic.

Windows

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Chemistries of us

transforming 

what we touch

into love

and a bug's need

to make it 

known;

On an evening walk 

in my neighbourhood,

watched by houses of stone,

lighted windows, 

wondering what the people 

in them do

as they move

room to room 

under the anemic moon

with their desires—

moths slamming 

wanting in

and people

wanting out.