Enough with the pussyfooting
Israel’s shameful paralysis is Hamas' victory: It's time we ended the joke we are fast becoming
While our hostages rot in Hamas’s dungeons, a spineless government dithers—It’s time to unleash hell, and not in a figurative sense.


Fifty-nine Israelis—sons, daughters, mothers, fathers—languish in the fetid grip of Hamas, a death cult that revels in bloodshed and broadcasts its sadism with glee. Fifty-nine souls, snatched from their lives on October 7, 2023, now reduced to pawns in a grotesque theater of torture, their agony paraded in videos that sear the conscience of anyone with a shred of humanity.
It's like watching a scary Netflix movie, except this time Jack Bower doesn't manage to escape, instead he is tortured, starved and beaten. Sadly though, it's not a movie. We don't get to much on Maltesers, sip our coke from oversized cups and go home at the end, knowing that everything was ok, and that even if it wasn't, well it's just a movie, right? This is a true story and it's been more than 500 days. Alon Ohel can hardly see out of his eye, because it has shrapnel lodged inside it, but Hamas doesn't care. Matan Angrest is burned, bruised and broken, and Hamas is just getting started.
You know what? It's ENOUGH! It's enough with the chatter and the conferences and the endless, meaningless warnings.
Our once-fearsome nation, a lion among foes, sits on its haunches, trembling like a scolded child, too terrified to act. Today, for the first time in an eternity, they’ve cut electricity to Gaza. A flicker of spine, perhaps—but it’s a pathetic half-measure, a whisper when we need a roar.
Where is the fire? Where is the fury? When the moment demands steel, Netanyahu wilts. Why, we might never know. The truth is that it doesn't actually matter anymore. What matters is crushing Hamas like the worm it is and getting our people back. Donald Trump handed Israel a blazing green light: “Reign hell on Gaza,” he said, a blank check to crush Hamas and bring our people home.
And what does Bibi do? He stares at it, hands quaking, too scared to cash it. Israel, once a beacon of defiance, has become a punchline, a nation of pussyfooters led by a power-hungry monarch, who will do anything and everything to retain the power he holds so dear.
A Cult of Death Laughs in Our Face
Hamas doesn’t care about Gaza’s people—let’s stop pretending otherwise. This isn’t a resistance movement; it’s a cabal of death-eaters, a cult that thrives on murder and shahids, those so-called martyrs they churn out like factory goods. Electricity off? They shrug. Water cut? They smirk. Internet down? They’ll find a way to beam their snuff films to the world regardless. Gaza’s civilians—starving, parched, disconnected—are just fodder to them, human shields for their tunnels and rocket caches. The power went dark today, and Hamas didn’t blink—because suffering is their currency, and they’re filthy rich in it. Meanwhile, Netanyahu wrings his hands, hoping this tepid gesture will nudge them to the table. It won’t. They don’t negotiate with weakness; they feast on it.
A Nation Adrift, a Leader Unfit
Netanyahu’s apologists will bleat about “complexity”—the ceasefire, the optics, the international chorus of finger-waggers. Spare us. Complexity doesn’t excuse paralysis. Since January 19, when the shaky truce took hold, Israel has freed 33 hostages, including eight bodies, through drip-feed exchanges. And let's not even get started on the beautiful Bibas family, needlessly viciously murdered.
A new plan to free half the rest was rejected by Hamas last week, and still, Bibi clings to this farce of diplomacy. He’s got Trump’s backing, the IDF poised, and a nation screaming for action—yet he dithers, a deer in headlights, petrified of the consequences. What consequences? The UN’s sanctimonious resolutions? Biden’s ghost haunting the White House phone lines? The Hague’s paper threats? None of it matters when our people are dying in cages.
Cut everything—water, electricity, internet, the works. Starve Hamas out, choke their lifelines, make Gaza a pressure cooker until they crack.
They don’t care about their own? Fine—let them drown in the chaos they’ve sown. Every day we delay, every hour we hesitate, another hostage fades. Twenty-four left, maybe fewer by tomorrow. Victory demands guts, not platitudes. It demands a leader who’ll wield Trump’s blessing like a battering ram, not a hall pass he’s too scared to use.
Time to Stop the Joke
Israel’s become a caricature—a nation that once stared down armies now quivers before a terrorist rabble. Hamas holds 59 of our own, tortures them on camera, and we respond with a power outage? It’s not enough—not even close.
Here's what we need to do, and fast. Cut the water. Sever the internet. Blow up Hamas' food stocks, piled up in warehouses. Block every scrap of aid until those hostages walk free or Hamas lies in ruins.
They’ve got 24 lives in their hands, and we’ve got the power to make them pay. Trump’s green light isn’t a suggestion; it’s a mandate to end this nightmare. Netanyahu’s too scared to act? Then step aside for someone who will. The families deserve it. The hostages deserve it. Israel deserves better than this shameful, sniveling farce.
Hamas laughs, the hostages suffer, and Netanyahu fiddles while our nation burns. Enough. Cut it all off—now—or watch Israel fade into the joke it’s fast becoming.
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