`321 Smashing an idol at Rami Levi
Chananya Weissman

May 13, 2024


I thought the Commie siren was going to be at 10 AM and completely forgot about it. So I happened to be in Rami Levi at 11 AM when suddenly the fake shofar of phony redemption pierced the air. Everyone froze in place like mannequins — the regular folks, the “haredim”, the Arab workers — everyone.

Not necessarily because they believed in the un-Jewish ritual they were performing, but because of Commie-style social pressure. The “haredim” didn't want to appear like insensitive jerks before secular people and Dati Leumi statists (but I repeat myself) who want to hate them, and the Arab workers didn't want to lose their jobs. So they all stood still like good little boys and girls.

Except for me. I continued going about my business, walking around, opening and closing freezer doors, and putting stuff in my bag. I was the jerk. Everyone I passed stared at me, but no one said a word, not during the siren, and not after it mercifully ended.

I was waiting for someone to ask me why I didn't stand silently for the siren. I would have countered by asking them why they DID. When they dutifully recited their lines about honoring the soldiers who gave their lives so I could buy french fries on sale at Rami Levi, I would have told them that standing silently like an idiot is an un-Jewish ritual that doesn't do anything for anyone.

Besides, they weren't thinking about the soldiers, anyway. They were thinking about me.

I realized afterward what it was I felt during those two minutes. It was something I hadn't felt in a while.

It was the feeling of walking into a place where everyone was wearing a mask except for me.

And it was glorious.



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