I went two years ago, around 3 a.m., to Ariel Sharon’s gravesite on his “ranch” in the Negev desert, and pissed on it. I drank 2 liters of water on the way and held it for over an hour. I scraped off the ridiculous rocks they placed on the tombstone, used a chisel and a hammer to make a little 10 cm diameter hole on the stone monument, and took a dump. I took my time to arrange the rocks and pebbles into the shape of the Star of David atop my excrement. I often laugh at how somebody found that later, and who was voted to be the poor putz that had to clean it up. Resistance comes in many forms! Next stop: the piece of animal dung’s Baruch Goldstein’s gravesite. Having an Australian passport with a goyim-sounding name and light hair gives me sooo much more access than my poor fellow resistance fighters, so I use it to the fullest. Been thinking about changing my name legally to Silverstein or Goldfarb and working to create a backstory so I can make “aliya” someday. Once I’m in, only my imagination will stand in the way. I’ve already used Airbnb twice in Modi’in Illit to stay in that illegal settlement – not for a vacation, mind you – and gave my detailed sketches of the town’s layout to a buddy of a friend in the Lion’s Den.