If I were an Israeli Jew...

Here's what I would do.

Things have been quite bad for nearly a year now, as you must have noticed. It’s not that they were much better prior to October last year, but the problems back then appear to be child’s play compared to how things have been since that fateful month in the year past.

Nowhere is safe. You could be walking in a mall or just minding your business in a street corner and suddenly you could be stabbed with a knife by an Arab, whose ancestral property your grandfather stole. Or you could be walking down a street and suddenly an Arab — whose siblings were likely murdered by your brother — runs you over with his car. Or you could be hanging out on your balcony and suddenly machine gun fire from an Arab Bantustan — which we are increasingly squeezing — would make it the last time that you ever thought of hanging out on your balcony again.

Did you check up on your relatives in the north? They are going insane. My relatives in the north were forced out of their stolen homes by the crazies in Lebanon. They haven’t stopped firing rockets for nearly a year now, forcing all my uncles, cousins, and their neighbours to take refuge in hotels across Tel Aviv and its suburbs. No prospect of school for my cousins, no hope for a job for my uncles, and no business for the shuttered grocery store my aunt ran. Now they are left reminiscing about the days that were, battling their fellow northerners in the hotel and cursing their existence. You have no idea how bad things are.

My brother, who worked in the logistics department at the Eilat port, is now spending his entire days watching porn and getting fat since he lost his job after the Yemenis and the Iraqis combined to shut down the port with their relentless barrage of rockets and the blockading of the routes for ships with vital supplies.

All of these factors have had a cascading effect of shutting down businesses in our chosen land. They are saying 46,000 businesses have shut down in Israel. My father’s authentic Israeli falafel and hummus store is one of them. He kept losing money at his downtown eatery since October — which sold food made only with the traditional Arab herbs and recipes — and was left with no option but to shut the shop for good. Now he spends his days shouting at my brother to move his bum and do something. Our savings won’t last forever.

My job at Intel is also on shaky ground after the tech giant — the antisemites they are — started reconsidering their investment in our chosen land. For now I am getting the salary, but if things continue this way, I wouldn’t be able to count on the paycheck for much longer. It’s very unnerving.

And then there are the crazies in our own midst: the ultra-Orthodox. Those moochers aren’t too keen on defending our chosen land, despite enjoying its fruits. They need to be dragged for conscription totally oblivious to the staff crunch our army is experiencing. Who will protect our borders if things continue this way?!

And the Iranians! Where do I even begin with them? What’s wrong with them? Retaliation? What retaliation? We killed a Hamas guy. He was a Palestinian, an Arab. Not a Persian. And they want revenge. There’s something wrong with these guys in our neighbourhood — they are chronically after our blood and livelihoods.

Now we are left waiting for strikes that can come from anywhere. From Yemen because we bombed their port. From Lebanon because we killed their top commanders. From Iran because we killed a Palestinian from Hamas!

Add to them our inferiors in Gaza, who haven’t stopped their fireworks yet, despite our near year-long genocide. You could be walking down a street and suddenly a Hamas rocket could plonk on the top of your head.

You never know which piece of metal has your name on it. If you survive an Arab West Bank car, you may not be as lucky with a Gazan projectile. These are perilous times for us chosen people.

The sirens keep shrieking — nearly all day and all night. Projectiles fly left, right, and centre. It’s all quite unnerving. Even when you sit by the beach, you keep half your attention to the mobile phone notifications. You sit in a café, and your eyes are glued to the screen on the wall — the coffee these days always tastes bitter no matter how much sugar you add to it.

I would be lying if I tell you that I don’t always try to be in close proximity to bomb shelters, which — thank God — have started cropping up everywhere these days.

The crazies in Yemen, Lebanon, and Iran are saying the long wait for retaliation is part of the punishment. In all honesty, they are right. We do feel punished. We have stocked our fridges and pantries for the inevitable, but this is no way to live. I didn’t get my US passport to live with this uncertainty and perpetual fear. The escape routes are fast shrinking. The airlines are increasingly curtailing the flights to our other chosen lands in Europe and North America.

Anyway, I have taken my money out from my bank in Tel Aviv and have parked it in New York. I have also diversified my crypto portfolio. I have put most of my tangible valuables on eBay and Walla!shops. The moment they are sold, I am out of here.

While I do love an aliyah, I am also not averse to a yerida. It was good while it lasted.

Intel has agreed to relocate me to their Bay Area office. Thank God for transnational corporations!

California, here I come!

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