Having dinner last night with some friends who'd read my blog, I joked that I'd met the Israeli Dolores Umbridge at the Allenby Bridge. "Yeah, I was waiting for her to make me write stuff in my own blood," I said. "If I were Palestinian, she would have."
Then, today, I remembered the story of young Gazan journalist Mohammed Omer. And suddenly it didn't seem like so much of a joke.
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