There isn’t going to be peace between Israel and Palestine. I’m sorry to have to be the one to say it.

Don’t get me wrong. In thousands of years, when neither exists anymore and everything we think of as “now” and meaningful is nothing but vague legend—when our gods and historical figures have mixed so that it seems like Nelson Mandela and Ronald Reagan lived for 500 years—then maybe there will be peace in the areas that will have been known as Israel and Palestine. When nobody knows what the word “Jerusalem” means. Then maybe you’ve got a shot.

Until then, call Bibi Netanyahu. Call Mahmoud Abbas. Tell them they might as well cancel the tea and scones date they have set up for this week under the guise of peace talks—much as I hate to see good scones go to waste—because there’s no hope of ever getting anything done while any of them or any of anyone is alive and whatever motions they want to go through is only going to cost unnecessary money. They could go parasailing and it would be as useful. More useful even, because at least that’s bonding.

The peace talks, set for this week, are resuming from having stalled out in 2010. 2010—in case you’ve been in a coma—was three years ago. I ask you, what the hell was happening for the last three years that anyone seriously dedicated to the notion of bringing peace between two peoples couldn’t actually do so? Settlements on the West Bank? Palestinian prisoners locked up unfairly? A looming terrorist threat? So what else is new?

Want to hear something fun? As a sign of good faith or some such nonsense, Israel announced they’ll release 100 of their Palestinian prisoners. 26 this week. They also announced that they’re building 1,200 new settlement homes on land that Palestine still considers its own. Why is this happening at the same time the two parties are coming together allegedly to drive toward reconciliation? Because Netanyahu needs to placate the right wing in his country who, wait for it, are dickbags.

That’s right. Bags of dicks.

If these talks even happen—and maybe they will, maybe they won’t; one never knows at press time—the building of new settlement homes is a big and current enough stumbling block that there’s no way any larger issue can be addressed. It’s like if you and I are going to decide which rug to buy and I tear up the floorboards. Well there are more immediate issues to be dealt with now, aren’t there? Blamo! Stalled peace talks.

What’s super-important to remember at times like these is that none of this matters anyway. Because at some point, if our species is lucky enough, we’re going to be able to get to that time that I described above. All these places, maybe they’ll be the same geographically, maybe they won’t, but they’ll have different names and different people will live there with different gods and all this strife that’s gone on so endlessly—and, by now, boringly—for decades and centuries will have been reduced by time to what it is: The scruples of life in a primitive age.

Even better? We’ll be long dead so we won’t have to hear our progeny condescend to us. Think of how lucky the ancient Egyptians are, the ancient Greeks, the Mesopotamians. Nothing but a lifted shoulder in history’s great shrug. We’ll get there someday. You and me, Israel and Palestine. It’ll take a while but one can only assume it will be worth the trip.

JJ Koczan

jj@theaquarian.com

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