Weiss hates Yair from the bottom of her heart. And Irit Linor has something to say about that.

March 24, 2019   

For your information, I am completely versed in the submarine and stock affair, and know exactly what the difference is between Seadrift and Graphtec and ThyssenCorp, and I expect everyone to thank me from the bottom of my heart for not repeating everything I know now, because as a writer I understand the human soul, and I know that the human soul will burst into screams if anyone else tells it "the value of a graphite electrode manufacturer's stock in 2009." The human soul does not like to read financial reports, and the human soul is absolutely right. Therefore, this time I will deal with Dana Weiss and Yair Netanyahu. Because the human soul understands hatred. The human soul knows when hatred is so deep that it has an independent existence, And it is greater than the object of hatred. Generally speaking, Weiss is a respected political reporter at a respected news company, has a cultured speech style and a precise haircut, a master's degree in law, and is 50 years old - an age at which one can assume that a person acquires a basic seriousness and a kind of mental laziness that prevents him from feeling too strong feelings toward people he doesn't really know. And Dana Weiss doesn't know Yair Netanyahu, beyond what she read in newspapers or on the Internet - these were mostly unflattering descriptions of a young man who is being invested in a great media effort to catch him in his bad mood, not to mention assuming that he is fundamentally bad. But the expectation from Weiss, who, in terms of age, could be Yair Netanyahu's mother and in terms of her profession, one could expect her to know that not everything written in the newspaper is true, and not everything that is true is written in the newspaper - well, such a woman should not have accidentally recorded herself calling someone "a scumbag, a shitty child." Unless at that moment he stole her bag.  But Dana Weiss hates Yair Netanyahu from the bottom of her heart, someone with whom she is mostly acquainted through political journalists whose hatred of Netanyahu Sr. is enough to light up the entire Gush Dan bloc, and there is more than enough in her to satisfy her wife and son as well. You know the joke about the Polish combine? It plows the field, sows potatoes, harvests them, cooks them, and finally eats them? So there is also such communication. It tells itself stories and eats them with appetite. Weiss hates Netanyahu so much that when diligent listeners heard her voice accompaniment to what was supposed to be just a stinging Twitter video, in the style of a testimonial, "Look how this parasite is traveling abroad with his father and delays the flight because he doesn't want to be filmed getting out of the car" - she realized that maybe she had misunderstood something, only that she thinks that overall she was caught talking badly, and not that the edges of her cloak of hatred were exposed, and with them a general understanding of her journalistic position. And so the apology that Weiss provided is an example of a lack of understanding of the human soul: both that of the human soul that hates, of the object of hatred, and of the intensity of this corrosive emotion, which Weiss may not even know she feels. It never occurred to her to apologize to the zero and the pooping child. To her, he was an abstract entity, not a real person who needed to ask for forgiveness. Therefore, she apologizes to a truly abstract entity: some cosmic aunt who frowns when senior, older, and educated female journalists speak badly. ""They were said," Weiss writes, as if an abstract person, who is not her, had spilled out a sentence or two against his will, "things that shouldn't have been said. No one regretted a video they hadn't uploaded yet.". "That's not my style," she continues, even though the casualness with which she cursed Yair Netanyahu actually indicates that there is a case for it, "and I apologize for that." To whom is she apologizing? Not to the person she casually insulted, but to the imaginary producers of the Polish combine, who were caught spoiling their potatoes but continue to eat their potatoes as if it were nothing.