Good morning, good afternoon and good evening and welcome to the Tangle podcast, a place we get views from across the political spectrum, some independent thinking, and on days like today, a lot of my take.

This is a tough one, guys. You might hear already and not the cheeriest tone in my voice.

This was a hard thing to write.

I think it's going to be a hard thing to read.

It's going to be a hard podcast to publish.

But I think it's necessary and more than anything, I think it's honest. I think it's necessary and more than anything I think it's honest.

I think it's just honest. It's just genuine. It's my true feelings. It's my true thoughts.

And a lot of people are not going to like them. Many people might like them. I'm sure I hope. I hope this resonates for some.

But the reality is I know this is a really difficult subject,

and I'm saying a lot of really big, powerful stuff here, not powerful like, oh, I'm brilliant

and my writing's great, and whatever, powerful, like, using big, meaningful words and saying

things that I think are offensive to some people, or on the other

hand, you know, too late and finally is what a lot of people are going to say. But for me,

it's just where I'm at now. So I don't know.

I'm just going to start, if that's okay.

I was 21 years old the first time that I went to Israel.

Like many American Jews, my first experience was through Taglet Birth Right, a Jewish organization that offered a 10-day, all-expenses-paid tour of the country. For young Jews, especially the secular

kind, as I was, the birthright trip is often a moving and dramatic experience. You are greeted

and spoken to like a long-lost family member returning home.

You were told accurately that the land you were on was ruled by your ancestors thousands of years ago.

You were surrounded in public for the first time by other Jews, no longer a minority, as you

would be throughout the Middle East, or subject to nonstop

...