Gaza

I reach out to a homie very recently about Gaza. We’re not that close he and I, but every time we get together we banter ethnically, which means we flip each other shit for being more superior in our own brownness. Homie calls me old man. I call him Are You Sure You’re Not Mexican? He looks Mexican, I swear. He’s a real good egg, too. Looked after my kid recently by finding a car for him, the kid’s first. And he’s not Mexican. He’s Palestinian.

I text him, “We can do an interview instead. Chew the shit over lunch.” This was after he texted me saying he didn’t want to write anything for us.

That very same day, I read an article in the New York Times about all the bullshit that’s spreading across social media pertaining to the conflict. The gist was how do you know who or what to believe is happening over there (fuck sake, X?). It made me think a little selfishly about one of the aims here at Things Men Carry, which is to bring topical news to our readers (Gaza a perfect example), but to do it a little different: Hey man, I know your story a little bit from all the bullshitting we’ve done over the years. Shit’s real right now over there. Talk to me. Talk to our reader?

I press. I bring up the fact that this would make a fantastic read if for no other reason than he’s Palestinian and his wife is–wait for it–Israeli. “Seriously, Bro, this is a very great read.” I put “very” in block case letters.

He doesn’t budge. He basically tells me that he doesn’t have the time or the energy to talk about the bloody mess in Gaza that’s about to get bloodier. But he sends along three passages from the Quran that leave zero doubt where he stands. I feel his anger through them. I want to understand it more. He is one of the jolliest people I have ever known. He works like a plow horse to demonstrate how much he adores his children and wife. Still, I wonder just what the hell is being talked about at his dinner table right now. The very little that I know of Gaza makes me empathetic towards his position, I cannot lie.

But then, shit, there’s the part about me being a Catholic Christian. I swear the more time I spend in my secular city, the more defensive I get of this, my religious faith. The place is crawling with bookish atheists who love more than anything to volunteer their opinion that if it weren’t for Christianity the world would be a much better place. (Oh really, assholes, why don’t you read some more books, then. Learn other reasons why civilized societies have gone to war). To say nothing of their obsession that every priest in their estimation is a child molester.

I suppose me getting a little older and thus more “conservative” has something to do, too, with me straying away from some hard left leanings that I used to possess. Leanings such as, Hey Israel, quit picking on the Palestinians. I still harbor some of that, but to be completely honest about it, my Judeo Christianity begs the question, and has been begging the question (for perhaps as long as the evangelical-type atheists have been getting on my fucking nerves): am I not at least kinda Jewish?

I must surely pick a side in this current shit show, right? I write and edit a men’s journal cryin’ out loud. If Things Men Carry is to be legit in men’s journalism, it must endorse, say, political candidates. It must pick a side here, too. Real men take stands goddamnit.

Shit.