GoldenI (which, is clearly pronounced Gold-en-eye, but in my head, until recently, I’ve been pronouncing it Goldini, like Houdini, but… well… not) has a great post today on how weird it is that the pro-Israel conservatives* are so in love with Israel, when, if we tried some of the stuff they take as a matter of course there here, the above-mentioned conservatives would have a stroke.
I keep trying to think rationally about why this is, but I have to admit that, when I think of Israel, the first thing that springs to my mind is a picture from one of those Illustrated Stories of the Bible that I used to sit and look through while I was waiting for my dad to do his rounds at the hospital when I was a little girl. In it are Joseph, standing, and Mary, on a soft, sturdy donkey, looking out over a tiny Bethlehem made of something like adobe under an enormous sky. Joseph looks kind and caring. Mary looks tender and delicate. The donkey, like I said, soft, and the houses look like a strong rain would melt them.
Now, in my head, I know it’s an artist’s imaginings of a scene from 2,000 years ago–so, obviously, things weren’t like that even then and Bethlehem isn’t even in Israel. But that is the first connection my brain makes when I think of Israel–to that picture from when I was a kid.
And I can’t help but sometimes think that it’s that imaginary place some conservatives are so infatuated with.
*That’s not quite a satisfactory term, but it’s the best I can do right now.