The Hate Machine

I think something’s wrong with my Hate Machine.

I’ve got it turned up to 10, but I’m still not feeling it.

The hate. The murderous, self-righteous hate. The mindlessly fanatical hate.

I set the dial to “Palestinians.” Nothing. No reaction whatsoever. So, I set it to “Israelis.” Again, nothing. I just can’t seem to get my hate up. It’s embarrassing. Maybe there are some pills that would help.

Seriously, this is interfering with both my social and professional life. I need to get my hate up somehow. I’ve tried everything I could possibly think of.

I tried reading nothing but news about Israel’s ongoing liquidation of Gaza. I stared at pictures of dead and horribly mutilated Palestinian children. Thousands of them. Killed. Torn to pieces. Residential neighborhoods reduced to rubble. Whole families crushed under tons of concrete.

I told myself, over and over, that they were “terrorists.” Or the children of “terrorists.” Or that they had “voted for terrorists.” Or they were “anti-Semites.” “Human animals.” “The Children of Darkness.”

It didn’t work.

I tried reading nothing but news about the Hamas attack on October 7. The murder of families. The wanton slaughter. I stared at the pictures of the blood-smeared bedrooms. The footage of the executions. I read the messages that people sent to their loved ones before they were shot to death.

I told myself, over and over, that they were “fascists,” “occupiers,” “colonizers,” “Zionazis.” I told myself that they deserved what they got.

Nothing. No arousal whatsoever.

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