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Jewish Journal

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February 17, 2026

It’s Time to Add Humor to Our Fight Against Jew-Haters

Editor's Note, Featured /

Jews are terrible mockers.

We leave mocking for the standup comics, especially when they must deal with those pesky hecklers.

I consider Jew-haters and Israel-haters the worst kind of hecklers.

They spew out stupid stuff to show what good haters they are.

They love words with three syllables: genocide and apartheid are words of choice. They’ll make an exception for colonizers and occupiers, which have one extra syllable.

When they need to put phrases together, one of their go-to lines is “Globalize the intifada.” They especially like “From the river to the sea, Palestine will be free” because it rhymes.

One thing to remember about Jew-hating and Israel-hating hecklers is that they really believe the world belongs to them.

Have you ever seen the hysterical look on their faces? Hitchcock could have put a film together with those looks. They’re at the intersection of fury and frenzy.

They’ve been in frenzy heaven since Oct. 7, 2023.

Finally, after decades of wishing for Israel’s demise, they saw a ray of hope; they smelled a little Zionist blood. That Hamas attack, after all, was no ordinary terror incident. It was a bloody invasion that humiliated the all-powerful Zionist occupiers. 

But wait, there’s more.

After Israel fought back, the haters managed to get much of the world on their side.

Yup, much of the world—including some of the cool folks in Hollywood—are now convinced Israel committed genocide.

Sit with that for a few seconds. Genocide. What Nazis did to the Jews 85 years ago Jews are now accused of doing to Palestinians.

Of course it’s a lie. Of course it’s a libel.

But when you’re an experienced hater, all that matters is that the lie has a nice ring to it. And these days, haters know that anything against Israel has a nice ring to it. It even boosts their following!

Another thing to note about Jew-haters is that nothing can stop them. No condemnation, no calling out, no consequence, no outrage, no petitions, no calling of the cops will get them to stop. That only pumps them up. We got them on the run!

When I was an accidental street fighter in my youth (yes, there were Jew-haters in Montreal), I noticed that one thing haters really hated was when we made fun of them. It wasn’t enough to throw punches. We needed to add a little mockery. Mocking someone can crush their soul.

Maybe it’s time to mock the Jew-haters.

Maybe it’s time to match their bravado with some of our own, and show the world that no matter what “intifada” they throw at us, the Jews and Israel aren’t going anywhere.

I’m throwing the ridiculous “Globalize the enchilada” meme into the mix because when I said it to my friend over dinner, she laughed for like five minutes, and she doesn’t usually laugh for more than a few seconds.

We’ve tried the loud and serious approach in our fight against Jew-haters, showing appropriate anger, outrage and determination. We’ve been doing it for years. For some reason, though, it only seems to make them bolder and stronger.

Antisemitism is a deadly serious issue. We should never make light of it. But it’s also deadly serious that no matter what we’ve done to fight it, the disease just keeps getting worse.

When we make a public fuss over Jew-haters, we unwittingly honor them with publicity. They love that. It makes them more popular.

Shouldn’t it be a goal of ours to make them less popular?

What I’m saying is this: We can continue to do what we’re doing, but at the very least let’s add some new weapons to our fight, like humor. It’s not as if we have anything to lose.

Mocking the haters keeps them off balance. It makes them less cool.

It also gives us a little swagger. Instead of looking like frightened victims, we get our mojo back.

Comics have swagger. When they use humor to speak the truth, it gets through for the simple reason that people love to laugh.

Let’s get Elon Gold, Modi, Mark Schiff, Jeff Ross and Jerry Seinfeld together for one afternoon and see what they come up with.

I wouldn’t want to be a heckler in front of that crowd.

It’s Time to Add Humor to Our Fight Against Jew-Haters Read More »

Bored Panda: I Thought I’d Seen Every Shade Of Blue, Until I Sailed Through French Polynesia

Blogs, Commentary, Travel /

Thank you Bored Panda: I Thought I’d Seen Every Shade Of Blue, Until I Sailed Through French Polynesia

I’ve spent years traveling the world, chasing landscapes that stop you in your tracks. I thought I knew blue—ocean blue, sky blue, postcard blue. Then I sailed through French Polynesia, and everything I thought I understood about color, stillness, and time quietly unraveled.

This wasn’t one blue. It was hundreds of them—layered and alive, constantly shifting, sometimes minute by minute.

More info: lisaniver.com | Facebook | Instagram | youtube.com

French Polynesia took my breath away from the very first morning, with a stillness unlike anything I’d experienced before

Woman wearing sunglasses smiling on a boat with blue water and French Polynesia mountains in the background.

The first morning at sea didn’t announce itself. There was no rush, no blaring sound, no need to check the time. The ocean was impossibly calm, smooth as glass, reflecting the sky so perfectly that it was difficult to tell where one ended and the other began.

Standing on deck, wrapped in warm air and a salt-tinged breeze, it felt as though I were suspended between sea and sky.

I thought I’d seen every shade of blue, yet here it revealed itself as an ever-changing presence rather than a single color

Two people wearing hats relax in a pool overlooking the vibrant blue waters of French Polynesia under cloudy skies.

 

In French Polynesia, blue isn’t static; it has character.

Lagoon blue glows softly, almost milky, like light filtered through silk. Reef blue carries texture—layered, shifting, alive. Beyond them lies the open ocean: deep, infinite, and commanding respect without saying a word.

Each shade evokes a distinct response—joy, calm, awe, humility.

What surprised me next was how naturally I learned to slow down

Wooden bridge over turquoise water near thatched huts and palm trees in French Polynesia with shades of blue sky.

Something unexpected happened out there: I stopped rushing. Not because I made a conscious effort to slow down, but because nothing was pushing me forward. Days unfolded gently, conversations felt unhurried, and as the sails filled with wind, movement itself began to feel meditative.

It was the kind of slowing down you don’t notice until you realize how rarely you allow it to happen.

Life aboard a small ship reshaped how I experienced the horizon

Large white cruise ship sails through vibrant shades of blue water near lush green mountains in French Polynesia under cloudy sky.

 

Cruise ship pool and hot tub with mountain and ocean views under dramatic blue skies in French Polynesia.

 

Sailing on a small ship changed how I experienced the place. There was no sense of separation from the sea; the ocean wasn’t something I visited, but something I lived with. Every window framed water, every breeze carried salt, and every day began and ended at the horizon.

That constant proximity created an intimacy with the journey, the environment, and the moments in between.

When I went underwater, I entered a world that felt entirely separate from life above

Woman in blue shirt and hat smiling in clear shallow water under blue sky in French Polynesia ocean.

 

Going underwater felt like stepping into another dimension. The blues deepened instantly, wrapping everything in softer, quieter light. Coral gardens spread out below, vibrant and alive, while fish moved like living brushstrokes—darting and drifting in effortless harmony. Then came the manta rays. They didn’t rush or perform; they simply existed, gliding past with a grace that made time feel irrelevant.

Floating there, suspended between breaths, I felt small in the best possible way.

I visited islands that didn’t compete for attention but invited a slower way of being

Two lounge chairs on lush green grass beside turquoise blue waters under palm trees in French Polynesia.

 

Overwater bungalow by rocky shore with palm tree and vibrant blue ocean under cloudy sky in French Polynesia.

Each island we visited felt distinct, yet connected by the same gentle rhythm. Palm trees swayed along quiet shores, mountains rose sharply from the sea—softened by mist—and villages felt personal, welcoming, and refreshingly unpretentious.

Nothing demanded attention. Everything encouraged presence.

I discovered how simple moments became the most powerful ones

Overwater bungalow surrounded by vibrant shades of blue water in French Polynesia at sunset.

 

Some of the most memorable moments weren’t “big” at all. Bare feet on warm sand. The sound of water lapping softly at the shore. Sunlight shifting across the deck as the day moved on.

These moments didn’t demand photographs; they asked to be felt first.

I began to see evenings at sea as quiet, unfolding rituals

Woman relaxing on a deck chair at a French Polynesia overwater bungalow resort with vibrant shades of blue sky and sea.

 

Hand holding a champagne glass over turquoise blue water with overwater bungalows in French Polynesia at dusk.

 

As the day faded, the ocean transformed once again. Blues softened into aquas, then silvery tones, before giving way to gold and blush. The sky reflected onto the water until it felt as though the ship was sailing through color itself.

Sunsets weren’t rushed. They unfolded slowly, night after night, reminding me how rarely we allow things to end without distraction.

Turquoise shade of blue water glowing at night near a small island with palm trees in French Polynesia.

 

Overwater bungalows glowing above clear turquoise waters at night in French Polynesia with vibrant blue shades.

 

This journey also changed how I define luxury, shifting my perspective away from extravagance and toward something quieter, more spacious, and far more meaningful

Luxurious cruise cabin with a king bed, seating area, and window view of blue waters in French Polynesia.

 

This journey quietly reshaped my understanding of luxury. It wasn’t about extravagance or excess; it was about space. Space to breathe deeply. Space to think clearly. Space to be fully present.

Here, luxury felt like calm—and calm felt priceless.

Elegant dining table setting with white linen, gold-accented plates and napkins, ready for a French Polynesia sailing experience.

 

Plated gourmet dish with roasted carrots, creamy sauce, green garnish, and black sesame seeds on a decorative white plate.

 

Pink sorbet dessert in a white bowl with yellow decorative topping on a striped tablecloth, French Polynesia inspired.

 

Elegant dessert plated with intricate leaf-shaped decorations and fruit pearls, showcasing shades inspired by French Polynesia blue.

 

French Polynesia will always stay with me as a place where I learned to loosen my grip on urgency

Nighttime pool with vibrant shades of blue water, palm trees, and lights reflecting in French Polynesia resort.

 

Long after the ship returned to port, the blues remained—not just in photographs, but in memory. They stayed in the way my body remembered how to slow down, and in how my mind learned to loosen its grip on urgency.

French Polynesia didn’t impress by overwhelming the senses or demanding attention. It unfolded quietly, one shade of blue at a time, reminding me that wonder still exists when you allow yourself to linger.

Bored Panda: I Thought I’d Seen Every Shade Of Blue, Until I Sailed Through French Polynesia

More on my travels with Windstar Cruises’ StarBreeze

Enjoy my VIDEOS from French Polynesia

 

Read all my articles on Bored Panda

Bored Panda: I Thought I’d Seen Every Shade Of Blue, Until I Sailed Through French Polynesia Read More »