In a country where every word is policed, every tweet can ruin a career, and “offense” is a national sport –
“Fathi & Zimri Among the People” is a small cultural explosion of free speech
“What are they trying to sell us in pop culture – and why does every rapper today sound like a spokesperson for the United Nations?”
Once, cycling was a thing for kids with shorts and bruised knees… Today? It’s a religion.
And its temples are not in Jerusalem, but on dusty trails in the south, in the endless greenery of the Carmel, or on a strange section in the middle of Nes Ziona that suddenly became “a single track of medium-challenging difficulty with technical descents and switchbacks.”
When the country is turbulent, when the news is depressing, when the people are divided, when the left and right are fighting – shawarma is waiting for us in the corner. It doesn’t ask if you voted. It doesn’t check if you are in favor of reform. It’s just there, with coleslaw, runny tahini, and a look that says: “Forget about everything, brother, one bite and you’ll understand why you were born.”
The West has forgotten that sports are supposed to be a level playing field. Not a minefield of political correctness.
The moment identity trumps facts, fairness also falls apart.
If you think that tourist trips to the tombs of the righteous began in the 1980s with rabbis caressing friends and handing out dollar bills, you’re probably right. But long before that, in 1867, a slightly different type arrived in Jerusalem, armed with a wide-brimmed hat, a sharp pencil, and capable of describing the high school in a way that would make even a guide from the “Antiquities Department” sweat.
His name was Samuel Langhorne Clemens, but everyone knows him as… Mark Twain.
A humorous love journey to the Israeli coast – the noise, the sand, the cornflakes with the sand – and the magic that cannot be replicated
An article on a subject that is no less than a secular religion in Israel: Israeli soccer.
Soccer in Israel: Between a Disappointing Draw and a National Emotional Revolution
Somewhere between Metula and Rahat, among the dunes and basalt hills, there is a phenomenon that even Harvard has not yet been able to crack: the clothing habits of the average Israeli. The one who comes to a wedding in a white polo shirt, goes to a job interview in ripped jeans, and in winter (that is, one rainy February) wraps himself in a down jacket as if he were in Iceland.
This is a nation that rejected the necktie as part of a colonial conspiracy, adopted Crocs as a national symbol, and broadcasts to the world: “We don’t dress for you. We dress for the integration.”
What Are They Trying to Sell Us in the Name of “The Protest”
November 30, 2025
When “Zionism” Has Become a Curse Word in Philosophy Halls?
November 27, 2025
