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Once upon a time there was a man who had a basement in his house where a giant mammoth died. At first, the slight smell that emanated from the basement bothered only those who had sensitive noses and gentle souls, but shortly afterward the neighbors also became aware of it, and then the stench spread far and wide.

As time went on, the carcass attracted insects and bugs of all kinds, but the owner of the house found it convenient to ignore this. What did it matter if there was a cockroach or ants here or there, running along the panels? Indeed he knew very well what this unpleasant thing was that was endangering the entire building already, swarming with pests and rotting there among the foundations, but because of the unpleasantness involved in getting rid of it, he preferred to put it off.

After some time, a new owner came to the building and decided the policy had to be changed - no longer should they delay taking care of the root of the problem - that is to say, getting rid of the carcass - but instead sanctify the existing situation by finding ideological reasons for not changing it. "The problem is not the carcass in the basement," he explained, "but rather the intolerable greediness of the creatures that are feeding on it. Until such time as these creatures change their nature and stop eating away at everything, there is no point in doing anything since even without the carcass they will merely look for another objective - bread crumbs or a jar of sugar in the kitchen."

When it became known that there was no longer any chance or hope of removing the carcass in the future, the entire building became an object of repulsion; and meanwhile the ants and bugs that were swarming over the walls and floors increased in number until they created a feeling almost of siege. They came in through the window, and when that was sealed, they entered from under the door, and when that was shut off by a floor rag they burst out from the electricity switches.

"You see?" the man said to the members of his household. "This simply proves that they don't want to eat the carcass; they want to eat us. They are not attacking the basement but rather the entire house."

That being the case, and with the same internal logic, the man rose, picked up a clog in one hand and an anti-bug spray in the other, and began chasing every ant and insect individually to catch them, squash them or send them back, one after the other, to the place from where they had come. From time to time he went off craftily to spray the nests and the places of departure in the backyard too, as well as those that were far off, as a preventive measure.

After that, he even tried to shut up all those members of the household who complained and warned about the rot. And between running around here and running around there, our friend sat down panting and sweating on the edge of a chair, celebrating a temporary victory but preparing himself heroically for the next swarm, so that this "preparedness" became the spice of his life. Where would it come from the next time - from the window, from the door or through the sink?

This may be a scathing allegory and one that is not pleasant to read; but remember it the next time you see the hysterical rushing around of thousands of policemen and soldiers trying to push back protesters at the airports, the beaches, the borders (and soon at the eastern no-border in the heart of the land ); remember it during the next daring operation to prevent "flotillas" and "flytillas" and the kamikazes carrying protest banners; during the next attempt to stop any criticism via legislation and to push back with pathetic legalistic attempts waves of protest from inside and outside the country; or every time you see an Israeli diplomat waving a thin fist at an empty hall in the losing battle against loneliness and ostracism; and especially remember this allegory every time they repeat the farce.

"We will fight on the beaches, we will fight on the landing strips, we will fight in the fields and on the streets," as Benjamin Netanyahu stands at the head of the assaulting forces - the Churchill of the pesticide, spray and sealant services.