Just Call Me the Termite

An Open Letter to Representative Hank Johnson:

Hey Hank,

I gotta tell you. This time, I think you managed to reach the highest level of low imaginable, even for you. What were you thinking? Well, I would guess the answer is that you weren’t thinking, were you?

I hear that this time, you called me a termite.  I guess, given some of your comments before the House of Representatives, maybe I should be grateful. But Hank, I have to tell you the only time I ever came close to even seeing a termite was when I lived in the States in a house built primarily of wood. Since I moved to Israel, I’ve lived in stone houses – oh, and not a one was stolen from the Palestinians or built on land that they had lived on or on land they owned.

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