Mars Man

Back on the beach for Memorial Day, a guy with a turban and another with a kippah strolled through the sand in our direction. Miraculously, they were walking friendly together, both in swim trunks and a towel in their hands.

“We’re in the hotel there,” said the fellow with the turban when I asked him where they were from.

“Yeah, great place,” the man with the kippah confirmed.

“You go swimming with those hats on?” Sue asked, laughing.

They ignored Sue’s question, probably thinking she was stupid.

“Heard about the flotilla?” Pete inquired.

“Oh yeah, the usual,” the turban guy said. “Everybody’s playtime.”

“You don’t think it’s serious?” Sue asked.

“Rubbish,” the turban guy snorted. “TV fodder.”

“Don’t you think the Israeli’s were too harsh climbing on these boats? Ten people got killed. It was all humanitarian stuff,” Pete said.

“You mind if we sit down?” the turban guy asked, turning to me.

“Sure not,” I said, invitingly. “My name’s Mars Man, just call me Mars. This is Kathryn, my wife, he’s son Pete and she’s daughter Sue.”

“I’m Taher,” the turban fellow said.

“I’m Aaron,” followed the kippah man.

We shook hands.

“It’s show boat stuff, you know,” Taher continued, nestling down in the sand. “They knew what they were getting into. The humanitarian freight was not the purpose. They wanted to embarrass and make a point and, of course, they knew the whole world would be blaming Israel if they didn’t get through. The real killers are the flotilla organizers; they should’ve known better, but took the risk anyway.”

“You must be a pretty liberal Muslim for saying that,” Kathryn scoffed. “Normally your side always screams loudest when someone does it  to you.”

“Taher’s right,” Aaron said. “Either we board and stop the flotilla, as we told them we would, and we’d be castigated by the UN, or if we didn’t, we’d be called wimps and next time they’d bring in humanitarian tanks and weapons, and nobody in the UN would raise a finger in protest.”

“Everybody in the Mid-East and West, especially this Husain White House, is showing off his PC best again,” Sue ranted. “I’ve yet to see anybody on TV daring to play the same trick on an Arab country.”

“We’ve quite a few Arabs in Israel, you know, who don’t like those Gaza creeps,” Aaron said. “Taher is one of them.”

“Ah, I see,” Kathryn said, understandingly, “so you’re both from Israel.”

“Yes, we are,” Taher affirmed. “We have our internal differences but like any democratic country we solve them peacefully in the Knesset. Those Hamas guys are hotheads. If you don’t join them they shoot you, torture you or cut your head off. They can’t even govern. I don’t understand what that flotilla of peaceniks wanted to achieve.”

“Europe and the USA show increased anti-Semitism,” Aaron said. “Most Jews in the USA voted for the democrats in 2008 but they’re now finding out they got a cat in the bag. Now they’ve to turn the tide in November.”

“So what are you going to do?” I asked.

“If those overpaid striped suited UN nincompoops drag us before the Council,” Aaron growled, wagging his finger, “we’ll point at all the scuds and stuff that Iran and Syria send to Hezbollah for so-called peaceful use and the UN doesn’t even want to know about, even though everybody else does. This is not the time to be fuzzy with Gaza either.”

“Nothing will happen,” Taher said. “After all the TV and media stuff is done, people get bored and it’ll blow over again.”

“Till someone silly in Tehran blows the fuse,” Kathryn said.

“We won’t let that happen, Ma’am,” Aaron grumbled. “When they do, they won’t have a light to find a match. They know. We won’t wait for the USA. This Administration is rudderless. And forget about the UN. I think it’s time for a swim, Taher. Nice talking to you.”

Taher and Aaron got up and walked to the sea, shaking their heads.

“What do you think, Mars?” Kathryn asked. “Yes dad,” Pete and Sue joined in chorus, “what do you think?”

“Jews and Arabs are from the same breed but they quarrel like Cain and Abel. The family strife will never stop. Cain killed Abel out of jealousy. Israel is a sunshine state. Look at Palestine, let alone Gaza, what dumps despite all the aid they get. If Israel hadn’t been there, they would’ve been even worse-off. Earth has to rein in Cain, but if the USA doesn’t intervene, Abel may be killed again. And the West would never be the same.”

“War?” Pete asked.

“Eventually, I’m afraid so, son. If you want to preserve Kathryn’s Judeo-Christian roots, you’d better stand up for them.”

“More death, more Memorial Days,” Pete sighed.

“That’s the way of life on Mother Earth. Strife is the trump card.”

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