Another Round of Middle East Madness!

Now with Extra Delusion...

Photo by Mazin Omron on Unsplash

So let me get this straight.

After decades of rockets, kidnappings, hostage swaps, and Nobel Peace Prizes handed out like Halloween candy, we’re supposed to cheer for another Israel-Palestinian “deal” because a bunch of diplomats in suits managed to nod at each other for five minutes without throwing punches?

Sure. And Jeffrey Epstein killed himself.

This isn’t diplomacy. This is performative stupidity. It’s the same charade they’ve been dragging out since the VHS era — now with better graphics and dumber hashtags.

And you know the punchline, right?

It’s the definition of insanity. Doing the same idiotic thing over and over while pretending it’s new and bold and not just the geopolitical version of patching a Category 5 hurricane with duct tape and optimism.

We’ve been here before. Too many damn times.

And yet every few years, some fresh-faced paper-pusher from Brussels or Foggy Bottom prances out with a new “roadmap to peace” like they just cracked the Da Vinci code. Spoiler alert: it’s always a dead end.

Here’s what actually happened…

Israel got guilt-tripped. Again. By a peanut gallery of champagne diplomats, soft-brained NGO mouthpieces, and its own twitchy Left who think the answer to war is feelings.

Because nothing says national security like listening to the same trust fund darlings who think Hamas just needs more job training and maybe a gender studies program.

Let’s be honest.

This isn’t about peace.

This is about optics. Optics for the UN. Optics for CNN. Optics for whatever Ivy League dorm room put out the latest manifesto on “colonial occupation” while sipping oat milk lattes and skipping class.

Meanwhile, Hamas will do what it always does.

Poke. Prod. Provoke. Small attacks. Just under the radar. Keep the terror drip steady, but not enough to justify a full Israeli response. That way, when Israel does defend itself, the same hand-wringing “humanitarians” can cry foul and call for ceasefire number 173.

Rinse. Repeat. Body bags. Sound bites. Hashtag outrage.

And let’s not forget — every time Israel tries to finish the job, the West loses its mind. “Disproportionate response!” they shriek, as if war is a damn tennis match with polite applause breaks.

You know who loves this deal? Hamas. Iran. The people who profit off chaos.

You know who pays for it? Israeli families. Again. And again.

This deal is like predicting sunshine in the middle of a supercell. The barometric pressure is screaming disaster, the radar’s lit up like a Christmas tree, but sure — let’s cancel the warnings and hand out beach towels.

We’ve flushed trillions down this rabbit hole. Trillions. And for what?

To keep pretending that the people screaming “Death to Israel” in broad daylight are just misunderstood poets looking for a cuddle.

Tell me — what kind of peace deal starts with one side still holding hostages and the other side getting lectured for fighting back?

This isn’t peace.

This is a false calm before the next storm surge. A high-pressure front of idiocy rolling in from every direction.

And when the next explosion hits, when the next street turns red, the same clowns who signed this deal will act shocked — like nobody could have possibly seen it coming.

Some of us saw it coming. Hell, we’ve got a lifetime of examples to prove it.

But hey… at least the paperwork’s in order.