I, Aroma daughter of Dolce and Gabbana Bulgari, a worker in the department of perfumes and aftershaves at the pharmacy chain store - who gives advice and recommendations to people in the one area in which there is no point whatsoever to advice and recommendations - the sense of smell - and nevertheless pesters them relentlessly - am honored to light this torch: in honor of needless jobs; in honor of salespeople and service providers who are always there when you don't need them and always disappear when they're needed; in honor of those who sell ice to the Eskimos, in honor of those who convince 80-year-olds to purchase savings plans that can only be cashed in 2034; on behalf of sales agents and marketing people and deal pushers and coupon clippers and recommenders everywhere, and for the glory of the State of Israel (though something new has just come out, and is really being snapped up).

I, Ehud (henceforth, Party A), son of Loophole and Palaver Olmert, hereby confirm - without detracting from the privileges and subject to all the conditions and instructions of this agreement - that for a year I have possessed the ability and the authority to forge this agreement or others and to fulfill the commitments in accordance with it in my name or in the name of a third party, and that I am not obligated by any other document that contradicts this agreement; therefore, as one who for an entire year has done nothing but talk, and who when he did initiate something caused nothing but damage - I am honored to light this torch (henceforth, Party B), subject to the conditions and instructions that apply at the time, as permitted by the relevant law, and removing from myself all responsibility of any kind, whether explicit or implied, on the basis of every legal rule (including, but not limited to, contracts, damages, negligence or total liability); and I shall not be obligated for any special, accompanying, indirect or derivative damages (including damages for loss, disruption or cost). In the name of those who survive at any price; in honor of those who tiptoe between the raindrops; in the name of those who inflict damage and are not damaged; in honor of those who are unpopular on the one hand, and not helpful on the other, and for the glory of the State of Israel (henceforth, Party C), ostensibly.

I, Jacob son of Directorate and Options Gelbard, vacationing Bezeq CEO, who together with 40 other company executives was ordered by the Israel Securities Authority to return bonuses totaling NIS 5.8 million, and a personal bonus of NIS 2.4 million, and to freeze a plan to distribute millions of shekels worth of options to senior company employees, including options worth NIS 4.1 million for me - am honored to light this torch: in honor of the gluttons among us, whose appetite grew with the food; in honor of those with big eyes who want more and more, in honor of boards of directors everywhere, who believe that their job is solely to gobble fat chunks of the pie from companies that are going broke, and for the glory of the State of Israel (What, is that it?)

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I, Amnesia daughter of Rerun and Toupee Talent, senior employee at Channel 2 and inventor of the highlights and reruns format, am honored to (once again) light this torch: in the name of television people who work only two months a year and half of that time just on promos, at the rate of five highlights shows to one recorded program; in honor of recycling artists everywhere, who squeeze more and more dry lemons; in honor of packaging geniuses and regurgitation whizzes who can sell endless loops of reruns under endless new names ("Highlights," "The Best of," "The Big Moments," "The Special"); and all without prior warning and by deceiving the viewer, who only picks up on the bluff in the final 10 minutes, and all without hurting the ratings; in honor of the anonymous alchemists and inventors who prove time and again that the Perpetuum Mobile is an invention that works, and for the glory of the State of Israel (The Best of).

I, Read-This Read-This son of Me-First and I-Rule Talkback - serial commenter on anything that moves - am honored to light a response to this torch: in the name of those who know all, and in honor of virtual recluses whose entire power lies in their anonymity; in the name of the spreaders of false rumors and unfounded assumptions, and in honor of the smug who bristle at the smugness of others; in honor of those who post their dreams of grandeur and splendor and unleash their wrath while tapping on the keyboard and scratching their privates - without editing, copy-editing, explanation or responsibility; in honor of the knights of the unbearable accessibility of access, who are drowning in the sea of everyone else's access, and for the glory of the State of Israellllllllll.

I, Moshe son of Impulse and Ambition Katsav, suspended President of the State of Israel and incapacitated "perfect product of Israeli society" - one who is serially persecuted and harassed - am honored to light this torch as I stand beside a young female soldier, whose chest is heaving up and down in rhythm with her excited breathing due to the solemnity of the occasion, and whose fingers are gently stroking the thick torch as the light of its flame dances over her clear skin, from which wafts a delicate and intoxicating springlike fragrance. No doubt about it: This is a moving occasion, one that arouses some seriously official thoughts, accompanied by a national erectness. In honor of the old values of religion and tradition, and in the name of state modesty, and in honor of national unity, and for the glory of the State of Israel (or whatever, just as long as it distracts people - at least during the ceremony - from the "little birdie" in my trousers).

I, Korach son of Greed and Privatization Oligarchov, Jewish patriot and representative of the upper millionth percentile, who buys everything at good prices - entire inventories, inheritances, people, cities, media outlets, heritages, estates, going-out-of-business sales, emptying of storage rooms (not including dismantling and transport) - am honored to light and to purchase this torch, along with all of Mount Herzl: In the name of the magnates to whom the eyes of the Jewish shtetl were lifted for generations, in honor of the Polish landowners who tossed a zloty every once in a while and helped a Jew greet the Sabbath with a crust of bread and a little herring, and for the glory of the State of Israel (How much for it?)

I, Occasion son of Ceremony and Etiquette Fetish, inventor of the peculiar yet strict rituals of Yom Ha'atzmaut - the marching and the flag-raising and the humming of "We are Carrying Torches" - am honored to pour over myself a jerrycan full of petrol and to light this torch: In honor of the gap between the stature of the people who in the past filled the top positions in the country, and the random, battered and pathetic assemblage standing today on the stage of honor; in the name of faded honor, vanished dreams and the hopes that sank into a coma, and for the glory of the State of Israel ("Glory?" Let's make do with plain-old "existence.").