Puppets for Palestine
Summer camp is WAY better than college.
Dear Mom and Dad,
This year college was really challenging, what with having to take my core science and math classes and apply for summer internships. College is super hard, and my brain is really tired of thinking all day.
I have some really amazing news, though! I’ve re-enrolled in The People’s University for Palestine, and it’s the absolute best!
Don’t worry! I didn’t have to move anywhere. It’s actually just right here in the middle of the central green on campus. We set up our own camp city with these incredibly high quality REI tents that appeared out of nowhere and, no, I haven’t bothered to ask anyone where they came from because they’re dope and I love them and I don’t care.
It is everything I ever dreamed that college could be! Here at the People’s University, we welcome everyone according to our entirely inclusive, socialist manifesto. Except for Jews, Zionists (which also sort of seems like another way to just say Jews), people who like Jews, people who like America, and anyone the camp leaders generally tell us not to like and tell us to form a chain and push out).
Here, we learn to embrace the Revolution. I’m still trying to fully understand what the end goal of the Revolution is, because most of the manifesto is written in Arabic. As you know, I was majoring in post-colonial Peruvian basket-weaving and I don’t know a word of Arabic, so I’m really trying to catch up as quickly as I can with the message of the Revolution. For now I’m happy to just go along with the crowd because they’re bringing in some awesome shawarma, and it’s getting me out of my final exams.
The translation of the manifesto says that Hamas is an international humanitarian organization and that the Zionists are a war-mongering satanic cult that is killing Palestinian babies to make matzah out of their blood. Did you know that?! I always thought the Levy’s next door were really nice and paid well when I babysat for them, but I guess you should probably do what I did to my neighbor Josh and spraypaint a swastika on their door. I have enclosed a can of red paint donated by the cause for that purpose.
You shouldn’t believe what you may be hearing on the news about our encampment. Our camp is really very reasonable. Our rules are perfectly clear:
Keep the grounds clean.
No smoking.
Wear masks “for COVID” purposes.
We welcome all supporters of the cause.
Anyone who subscribes to our list of demands may enter the camp grounds without any trouble.
Anyone who does not comply with our self-defined Community Guidelines is instantly wrapped in a mountain of keffiyehs and lit on sacrificial fire as we dabka dance around them by the light of the harvest moon.
It’s all explained right in the Community Guidelines. I don’t know what the fuss is all about.
We call the camp the “Liberated Zone.” I have never felt more free in my life. I think it’s because we have freed ourselves from the dictates of the pesky U.S. Constitution. We have risen above that racist document. Who needs laws when we can make our own rules to govern ourselves more equitably. We don’t need to afford Constitutional rights to Zionist pinkwashing genocidal maniacs. They aren’t worthy of rights. We are so free that we don’t have to pretend they are equal human beings anymore. Now that we are in the Liberated Zone and have Liberated our minds we can use our newfound Liberty to strip the Zionists of Liberty. They definitely do not have the Liberty to enter the camp.
And don’t worry, mom. I’m taking classes, I promise. I have learned so much at the People’s University already. The students in the camp are agents of our own learning. I know you paid tuition so I could learn from some of the top minds in the world, but truthfully, we all know better. In fact, some of my teachers are taking classes with me. It’s really cool.
Let me give you a snapshot of my daily schedule right now:
8:00 a.m.: I start bright and early with Tai Chi for Terrorists.
9:00 a.m.: I’m playing the blue-and-green bucket in a band called Hellions for Hezbollah. We are taking the show on tour in the West Bank this summer. It’s going to be so wicked. I got you tickets for the show in Hebron.
10:00 a.m.: Hypocrisy 101 where I learn that the U.S. Constitution is an evil document written by slave owners that doesn’t apply to people who try to enter the public spaces of our camp, but also that I am fully entitled according to my First Amendment rights to scream, “Kill the Zionists!” at every tuition-paying Jew who passes by on campus and is not allowed to walk in our camp even though they also go here because my Community Standards trump the U.S. Constitution but also how dare you infringe on my free speech rights LONG LIVE THE INTIFADA!!!
11:00 a.m.: Puppets for Palestine. This is where we all stand in a circle and repeat after the camp leader like zombies, chanting in Arabic "!من المية للمية فلسطين عربية” I’m not sure what I’m saying, but I sound very authentic saying it. And that is all that really matters.
12:00 p.m.: Lunch. National SJP caters it with embroidered napkins that say, “Die Kaafiroon!” Huh. I don’t what that means, either. Anyway, it’s free. I check my curiosity at the door when it comes to free food.
1:00 p.m.: Slogans for Sinwar. We invited a convicted Hamas terrorist to camp to teach us the most powerful slogans to use to scream at people passing by on campus. Our collective voices of hate shall bring peace to the world because the youth are always right! Praise be to Lenin! We are sure that the louder we yell, the more likely we are to free the people of Gaza because, according to our encampment map, we are the epicenter of the universe. My favorites so far are:
From Boise to Gaza, Globalize the Intifada!
Go Back to the Shtetl, Barbara sucked in Yentl!
From the Nile to the Black Sea, Palestine will be free!
I hate America! I hate Israel! I hate myself!
First, Ceasefire Now! Then, Long live the Intifada!
Zionists are the Friggin Worst!
Long Live the Ayatollah!
DIE JEWS DIE!
2:00 P.M.: Map and Craft. This is my favorite class. I feel a little keyed up after all the yelling, so painting signs is a bit of a release. The maps part is really helpful. When I first arrived, I thought the river was the Euphrates and the Sea was the Red one. Now I know it’s the Mediterranean, but I still have trouble with the river part. Yesterday, a reporter asked me, and I gave him a blank stare. Now I’m famous in a meme, which is the ultimate achievement for my generation!
As for art, I’m considered the top student because of my previous experience with baskets. I mastered the swastika pretty quickly. Now, I’ve been assigned to spraypainting Jewish stars on local kosher bakeries so we know which stores to boycott. We aren’t anti-semitic, though, just anti-Zionist.
3:00 p.m.: Hypocrisy 201, where I scream for an academic boycott of Israel in one breath and in the next I demand my free speech rights to call Jews any damn thing I please and call for their extermination by the millions.
4:00 p.m.: Teach-In by the Students. This is so unique. This is where we teach each other. None of us know the history of the region, though, so we end up scrolling through TikTok for educational videos, and then inevitably someone pulls out the hash pipe. Best class ever.
5:00 p.m.: Snack time! Donuts for Divestment!
6:00 p.m.: Bazaar! We have our own flea market to raise money to send to Hamas so they can remodel the tunnels that the IOF so rudely destroyed. I bought the most incredible, homemade kombucha called Sinwar’s Spritzer. It was a bit strange that the label said it was from the UN, but it was marked up 300%. Also, Arafat chic is so in now, and I look super cute in this PLO death scarf. I myself have sold three Peruvian baskets already! I’m saving Palestine through my art!
7:00 p.m.: Dinner time! Catered by Central Command. Strings for Decolonization came to perform their interpretive dance for us as entertainment. You have no idea how hard they are to book now that they’ve blown up on social media.
8:00 p.m.: Camp Talent Show! The band performed our newest single, “Al-Qassam’s Fire Me Up!” There was also salsa dancing, slam poetry, and an exhibition of the latest in Iranian weaponry.
9:00 p.m.: We lit the most stunning bonfire tonight as we exercised our free speech rights to scare the living shit out of every Jew in the city. I saw my old roommate, David, try to cross the green to get to the library to study for finals. I linked arms with the other revolutionaries to form a human chain, and we pushed him out because - can you believe the audacity? - he thinks Israelis have the right to live! He was so rude about it. He kept saying he the right to be there because he pays tuition, too. He accused us of assaulting him and being antisemites! It was such a provocation. We don’t hate Jews. We hate Zionists. If it just so happens that 95% of Jews are Zionists, well that’s not our fault, is it? He deserved the black eye he got for interrupting bonfire night. He made me burn my marshmallow.
Anyway, it has been such a long, activity-packed day. I’m all tuckered out. I hope you are proud of the person I am growing to be at the People’s University for Palestine. I hope one to day to look back on this time as some of the best years of my life where I met some of the finest people I’ll ever know. I am so grateful to you for sending me to an Ivy League school so I could become the very best version of myself. What a rich and rewarding semester!
Remember, I will be home May 15th, unless I decide to join Palestinian Islamic Jihad and move to Jenin. I’m told I am the perfect recruit because of my “mental malleability.”
Love, hugs, and Death to America!
Your son,
Johnny
Funny. And terrifying.
Brilliant!! Thanks Ellen 👏