Monday, April 22, 2024

Lilith doesn't meet a pro-Israeli Palestinian. Lilith was not there.

 

As I clutched my Cease Fire Now sign across from Waikiki Beach amid the streams of tourists, he came rushing toward us, dressing his unhappiness up with a smile. His light dreads sprouted from a bandana wrapped around his forehead. He said he was Palestinian Christian (and spoke Arabic to someone in the small crowd). "October 7th was the genocide!" He suspected we were Democrats; "Biden that vile piece of shit, what has he done about the border and the drugs?" He paraded in front of the front line of protesters, yelling that we all just needed Jesus. Jesus, Jesus, Jesus. Protesters started yelling that Jesus was a Palestinian. He raised his arms to the sky, pointed down at those gathered, seemed to utter a prayer. The speaker yelled SHUT THE FUCK UP at him. Three bicycle cops across the street startled out of their sun-drenched haze, so he crossed the street. They seemed to talk (or listen) him down a bit. And I'm standing there thinking what Jesus would want is a ceasefire. Jesus. A ceasefire.

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