on Iran tensions, news-informed anxiety, presentness, and the Sabbath

[Leon Kraiem]

Hi friends,

As the ancients used to say: I hope this email finds you well.

It does for me. Last week was sort of a wash -- I had the week off, but my attribute of needing structure overpowered my attribute of needing time. I've recovered nicely, though, with the bones of my work schedule supporting my routine again. Who knows about next week. But this week was good.

Now, don't worry, I'm not about to turn these emails into a play-by-play of the vicissitudes of my everyday life. But notice that the above was, in fact, about the normal vicissitudes of everyday life. 

That wasn't the case a few months ago. It's nice that it's the case now. 

—

Yesterday, I got hummus with my friend Ben, at the same spot where in summer ’23, he predicted that Israel would be at war within six months. As I recalled in email #51:

I went home in a daze then, and spent quite a while chewing on two basic truths: 1) that believing Israel to be on the brink of a major armed conflict seriously interfered with my ability to be and do in the world day-to-day, and 2) that this didn’t mean it wasn’t the case.

As it happens, Ben was in and out of reserve duty the last two years, so the country not being poised for combat anymore is something he’s pretty grateful for. And our conversation started with a return to peacetime topics: his recent engagement; a good movie; my job; his job.

Then, the power cut out. 

And with perfect timing, he mused aloud, to everyone and no one and himself: "...Iran?"

--

The lights came back on, and our conversation took a more political turn. We talked about Bibi, antisemitism, ICE, elections; the amazing self-inflictedness of beloved America's wounds; Important subject matter, sure. But really just topical riffs on the perennial themes we always talk about. 

We didn’t dwell on the Iran thing.

Years ago, on an episode of Conan (I think it was Late Night at the time), Andy Richter had this great offhand joke that’s stuck with me since: "You're like my grandma," he told the guest. “When I visit her, she gets sad four days before I have to leave, because I’m leaving in four days.”

This is what dwelling on Iran would be like, I think. 

—

I work in the news, but I am not a news junkie. Or maybe, I work in the news in order not to be one.

Because it’s my job, I have to stay informed; but because it’s my job, that new information is like raw material, awaiting a practical, professional next step. If I worked in a crayon factory, I’d turn wax into crayons. I work in a news factory, where I turn facts into liveblog posts, but it’s the same basic idea.

The thing is, that’s true for everyone. It doubly applies to writing the news, but it applies in just the same way to reading it. 

Everyone should follow the news, in my opinion — at least some of it, some of the time. If you never learn about the candidates, you won't know whom to vote for; If you never hear about that earthquake in Obscuristan, you won't check up on your friend who's doing his Fulbright there. And if you aren't aware that something very serious might pop off with Iran in the near future, you won't make sure the building bomb shelter hasn't turned into a storage unit again. (Not only hasn't it -- some saint got there before me and brought down some folding chairs.)

Those are different sorts of actions, but all of them are just that: actions. 

If instead of giving you agency, the news just makes you more anxious and fatalistic, you've taken a wrong turn somewhere. You aren't 'consuming' the news at that point -- the news is consuming you. Stop feeding the beast. 

—

In other words, the news is a job, not a mitzvah. 

I do it for work, but it's work for you, too. It's a means, not an end; it's fixing, not leaving be; it’s I-It, it's Adam 1: It’s whatever the opposite is of Shabbosdik. 

Speaking of the Sabbath -- she got here early (as she always does, in Jerusalem) and her knocks on the door are getting more and more insistent. I've been a terrible host, not welcoming her in. Come with me, maybe, to greet her?

As always, etc. 

Leon