Thomas Wictor

Today started out badly. I’m a night owl, so when the phone rang at 7:00 a.m., I’d only been asleep for maybe three hours. It was a laughing women who wanted me to take a survey on whether or not I supported editing DVDs to make them family friendly. This was after one of the worst nightmares of my life, which I’ll describe in a minute. After the survey, I couldn’t get back to sleep, so I went online, feeling very cranky. I wasn’t in the mood for the things that Jew-haters send me. As a result I used a lot of bad language that I won’t repeat.

Here’s the monomaniacal Jew-hater with whom I had about nine thousand exchanges on Twitter.

Nobody hates Jews like old Irishmen. After the Irish Republican Army imploded due to Irish-Americans cutting off the funding, these primitive, tribal throwbacks had to channel their hate somewhere, so they chose Israel. It’s got everything: Jews, an effective fighting force, wealth, influence, and an ongoing war with people that Jew-haters view as aboriginal freedom fighters. Kind of like the Irish Republican Army!

Philip looks like he’d be a nice guy to know.

No, I’m kidding. The scarf is the giveaway. He looks exactly like what he is: an old Jew-hater who sent me nothing but lies and poison and who put #GazaUnderAttack, #Zionazi, and #GenocideInGaza in every tweet. Nazi is his favorite word. All I could think of was the singsong drivel the First Ghost produced in 1976, when some blockhead on the school bus—referring to her blonde hair and blue eyes—used the same epithet on her that Philp D. Clarke wrote in almost every tweet to me for over an hour.

I created my own hashtag, which made Philip send out an alarm call to Jew-Hater Central. He seemed to think that my mockery of his stupidity somehow bolstered his case that Jews are the spawn of Satan. Back in 1976 there wasn’t Twitter or hashtags, so the First Ghost just used her Dadaist sense of humor by chanting this, tilting her head from side to side in time with the syllables.

Hotsie-totsie!
I am a Nazi!

The kid who called her a Nazi just shut up. He didn’t know how to respond.

Jew-haters think they’re really clever by calling Israelis Nazis. They assume you won’t dare accuse them of antisemitism, since after all, they’re criticizing Nazism.

Bull. Every Nazi who ever lived is a Holocaust denier. They vehemently refuse to admit the existence of the very thing they would’ve loved to have done themselves. Jew-haters adore Nazis. They just use the term as a shield to hide their real motivations.

This morning I’d had almost no sleep, and I’ve entered another nightmare cycle. Last night I dreamed that I was back at my grandmother’s house in 1968.

My mother and grandmother were the age they were in 1968, but I was fifty-two, with my white beard. At the same time, I was a six-year-old child. We were all sitting in the fireplace room, when I noticed that a hornet was coming out of the wooden wall.

It struggled as it squeezed through the hole. Seeing it filled me with terror.

“There’s a hornet coming out of the wall!” I shouted at my mother and grandmother, but they ignored me.

As the hornet emerged, it grew. By the time it freed itself, it was over two feet long. It flew right at me, and I saw that it had enormous mandibles and giant crab claws.

I tried to hold up my hands to ward it off, but my arms had lost all their strength. The hornet began snapping at my face with its claws and mandibles. It didn’t hurt, but I could feel the hard chitin cutting through my flesh and scraping the bone.

Then my brother Tim appeared behind the hornet. He grabbed it by the claws, holding it so that it couldn’t turn around. The body whipped forward and back as it tried to sting Tim, but he only smiled.

“Look at this thing,” he said. “It’s just a toy.”

The hornet’s head turned mechanically from side to side, and I realized that it was made of plastic. When I stood up, Tim let me catch hold of the hornet’s left claw.

Suddenly we were outside on the front lawn. It was night, and the hornet had turned into my late father. I held his left arm and Tim held his right. As we pulled in opposite directions, our father roared with laughter.

His arms were like wet cardboard; they came right off. Still laughing, he fell to the ground in a sitting position and instantly melted into green putrescence. Gurgling laughter bubbled up from the puddle of goo.

So that was my frame of mind when Philip D. Clarke began calling me a Nazi and a Zionazi as he sent me faked quotes from prominent Israelis.

Actual quote, first sentence.

We do not want to and we do not have to expel Arabs and take their place.

Actual quote, second sentence.

We must revert to an aggressive defense. In every [Arab] attack, prepare to strike [in response] a decisive blow, destroying the place or expelling the inhabitants and capture their place.

The context is that these are instructions for how to respond to attacks by armed Arab fighters. Their position was to be taken and held. The quote was dishonestly edited so that it appears to reference civilians.

Dayan never said it.

This has been reported to be a direct quotation of Dayan in the diaries of Moshe Sharett, but is actually derived from an interpretive commentary by Livia Rokach in Israel’s Sacred Terrorism (1980) on statements of Dayan reported in Sharett’s diaries, from accounts provided to him by Ya’acob Herzog and Gideon Raphael — in other words: a third-hand interpretation of Dayan’s meaning, based on a second hand report of his arguments.

Another distorted Dayan quote.

What he actually said.

In considerable areas of the country we bought lands from the Arabs. Jewish villages were built in the place of Arab villages. You do not even know the names of these Arab villages, and I do not blame you, because these geography books no longer exist; not only do the books not exist, the Arab villages are not there either. Nahalal arose in the place of Mahalul, Gevat — in the place of Jibta, Sarid — in the place of Haneifs and Kefar Yehoshua — in the place of Tell Shaman. There is no one place built in this country that did not have a former Arab population.

In the US, being “on the make” means you’re looking for sex. If I had to choose between sex with Philip D. Clarke or having my arms pulled off, I can’t tell you my decision. At least stumps heal.

Philip D. Clarke accused me of being an agent of Israeli intelligence. He asked me how much they paid me per tweet.

“Eighty-seven squintillion shekels,” I said.

“Your[sic] a lier[sic],” he replied.

You’re right, Philip. I’m sorry. It’s only twenty-three squintillion shekels.

That Sharon quote was fabricated by Hamas. Philip D. Clarke told me that he’s a humanitarian, yet he hates Jews enough to kill them, and he supports the utterly depraved, sadistic, murderous terrorist organization Hamas.

Another fabricated quote. Begin was reported to have said this to the Knesset, but no record of it exists. As a two-fer, Begin was also accused of using the same Knesset session to call Palestinians “two-legged beasts.” However, Begin was referring to terrorists who target children. Anybody disagree? Philip D. Clarke? Do you support the deliberate targeting of children?

If they’re Jewish children? Of course you do. Because you’re a humanitarian.

Philip D. Clarke told me that he opposes fascism. I said, “We both know that you couldn’t even define fascism if your life depended on it.”

So he sent this photo, saying that the Israelis are fascists because they base their posters on Nazi models. That’s the “Israeli” poster on the left.

Now, Philip is a mature man, so theoretically he’s used his brain for many decades. Yet he didn’t wonder why an Israeli poster soliciting donations for the IDF would be in English, not Hebrew.

I used Google Images and found the real poster in less than five seconds.

It’s the work of a performance artist named Doctor Steel.

So, in an hour, Philip D. Clarke did not make one truthful statement. His hatred of Jews is based on his own personal deficiencies. I’m also sure that there’s a sexual component in it. He told me that he’s been “collecting evidence against the Zionazi state” since 1967.

That was obviously the year a beautiful Jewish woman turned him down.

Philip, if I can get over my hatred of the Irish—the result of your IRA “lads” almost murdering me with a nail bomb in Regent’s Park on July 20, 1982—you can stop hating Jews just because a woman with good taste couldn’t abide your smell.