I'm going to break my rule for talking about Israel. Why? Because I'm deeply troubled. I'll be brief; I don't want to get worked up. Jews have trouble separating Israel's government from 'being Jewish' and I refuse to do that. This means I'm usually at odds with the majority of Jews. I do believe in Israel, but I believe that somewhere along the way, people forgot what it was all about. I'm not stepping up here to give a logical, well thought-out treastice on War and Peace in the Middle East. This is a mostly emotional post to vent my frustrations. I'm also not saying I'm right, okay? I'm just opining.

Lebanon. God help Lebanon. Beirut, once the Paris of the Middle East. I want to visit Lebanon. I want there to be a Lebanon for me to visit. Lebanon was, for three decades, immersed in agonising civil war. After a painful reconsiliation, the country managed to do what the US is unable to forcibly accomplish in either Afghanistan or Iraq. Lebanon had peace, extended calm and all the potential to regain what it had lost through a surprisingly functional factional coalition government. Of which Hezbollah was a part - not a large part, but elected by people, nonetheless.

Hezbollah is not Lebanon, just as Republicans are not the USA (though some might debate that). Hezbollah's aggression against Israel was out of the blue, so far as I understand, though I am certain it has accomplished its goal of destabilising the current delicate balance. Hezbollah has, it seems, plunged the greater part of Lebanon into conflict. Maybe it's not a surprise, considering the group's beliefs and mandate, but then why did this take the entire world by surprise?

For the record, I believe Israel has every right to respond to Hezbollah's attacks. It's called defense. What is not alright is for Israel to blithely rain havoc upon so many innocents. What Canadian Prime Minister, Steven Harper, called "a measured response" was not. Retaliating in the form of killing hundreds of civilians for the death of a few soldiers is not alright, nor is it measured. Fuck you, Steven Harper, and your ridiculous non-stance. And fuck you Hezbollah and Israel for once again not looking at the larger picture.

Israel has not looked at the larger picture since Yitzhak Rabin's assassination in 1995. How could Israel have responded? Considering the nation's reputation with intelligence and related technology, surely it could have managed an internal strike that could have crippled an arm of Hezbollah. I'm not saying it would have worked, or that the budding war could have been avoided, but they didn't even try.

I was recently asked if I thought there was a solution to Israel's problems. What did I say? It goes against everything I believe in, but I also think it's about the only option left. Isreal needs to let Palestine go. Just give up the land and fuck the settlers. The settlers shouldn't be there anyway. Let it go. No discussion about right of return or any of that bollocks. You want out? There, you're out. Now leave us alone. That's what I think Israel should do. Israel did not create the climate of intollerance, that was the fault of neighbouring Islamic countries who set Palestine up as the sacrificial lamb. Maybe, after ten years of utter separation as sovereign nations, maybe then discussions can begin again. I dunno.

Anyway, I'm done venting. I have no solutions, only emotions. The situation is far beyond what emotions can accomplish. There. That was my annual discussion of my disgust and sadness. I think I can now get on with my day.

Well, she's gone. Tracy's plane has take off for Vancouver and I'm left with a much quieter house. In typical Tracy fashion, I was right and she was wrong - her plane was yesterday, but we arrived at the airport for it today. Air Canada was super awesome, though, believe it or not, and moved her flight bookings over without even charging her an administrative fee. We were both shocked. Then she very nearly left her driver's licence at the check-in counter. I tried to change the American money that Gareth and I had left over from Skagway, but incredibly, despite being an international airport, Whitehorse Airport does not have a currency exchange. I shall have to take it to the bank and pay the fee.

As I said, we went to Skagway on Saturday. Skagway is in the Alaskan panhandle and was the staging ground for the Klondike Gold Rush back in 1898. Well, actually, it was the town of Dyea, from where you picked up the Chilkoot Trail. When the railway was built a year later, they based it in Skagway and that effectively killed Dyea. Skagway, today, is a tourist vacation staging ground. The cruiselines come in from Seatle and Vancouver, bringing thousands of tourists in during the summer. I'm not sure what goes on in town during the winter. The town isn't very big, probably not much bigger than 5000 people, and that's probably a generous estimate, and it has jewellery stores like Toronto has doughnut shops. But, tucked in and around them are some neat little places - like the Rock Shop, or whatever it's called, which sells rock samples and fossils. I bought a tiny trilobite (hah, I guess I'm starting a collection) for five bucks of the Order Ptychopariida, from Utah. At least I think that's it's Order. I'll have to double check. I almost bought a single Agnostida, which is the sort of 'proto' trilobite, but I liked the larger specimen I purchased more. Larger is relative, of course, as it's only about 8/10 of an inch in length. Where I'll mount it is another question, too.

Skagway's not all that interesting, really. Without the tourism, there'd be nothing much there at all. What is has is an extraordinary climate. Situated on what I guess is a glacial fjord, at sea level, surrounded by the very tall Coastal mountains and with the Pacific moderating the weather, it boasts a very temperate climate. The geology is such that you can move from alpine tundra to norther boreal forest, to temperate rain forest in a matter of minutes. We enjoyed dinner at the Red Onion Saloon, which is the less funky answer to Dawson's Bombay Peggy's. It was really nice to eat a fine pizza, though. Seriously. We also hit the liquor store and bought some REAL beer, since Whitehorse doesn't sell any. The Alaskan Brewery makes a charming Oatmeal Stout and I wanted to take it home with me. So I did. There was also fantastic milkshakes, coffee and peanut butter pie at a local cafe called Haven (or was it Heaven) Cafe off the main drag of downtown. Look for it, if you're there. YUM.

Dyea was very interesting, I must say. On a neighbouring fjord arm, it was humid and beautiful. Nearly fully returned to nature, there is little to mark the town's existence. A single false front stands on what had been main street, a straight line of coniferous trees marking the road in an otherwise random forest. Here and there are litter remains: rusted metal; roof sheets and wagon wheel frames. The forest has spent the last eighty years reclaiming the site. The town existed not even for a decade, going from boomtown to a population of three in the span of seven years. The train, bypassing the Chilkoot, made Dyea utterly pointless. We also visited the neighbouring Slide Cemetary, which with the exception of a tiny local burial adjoining the main yard, contains almost exclusively the graves of those who died in the April 3, 1898 snowslide. The obvious exception to this is "Noscitur shot in the mountains" a month later. Noscitur, in this sense, I think means "known to those who know him" or some such, as in its base verb form, "nosco", it means "to become acquainted with, get to know".

And then, yesterday, in carrying out the theme of dead mining settlements, we all went and hiked Miles Canyon until we found the remnants of Canyon City. Marked mainly by its midden heaps and vague structural outlines, Canyon City was a lot like Dyea. The walk along the canyon is stunning, even if it makes my fear of heights act up a bit, and took us about two hours in total. Originally, we'd planned to visit Kluane National Park, where Canada's tallest mountain, Mt. Logan, is located, but the weather was inclemant and we didn't want to drive an hour and a half to find it no better at the park. Hiking in the rain kind of sucks. No one was disappointed, though. Miles Canyon is beautiful and there were very nearly no other people on the trails. Despite the slow and lazy start, we had a great day.

Tracy arrived on the Air Canada Jazz flight from Vancouver last night. I picked her up and gave her a brief tour of the area (since it's still light out at midnight). I have rented a bright red Subaru Impreza for the week and I love it. I've had to reaquaint myself with driving stick, but despite some mildly embarrassing stalls, all has gone well. I'd almost forgotten how much I love driving stick. I cannot understand why anyone would ever want to drive automatic. You have so much control with a stick shift, you feel so much more a part of the driving experience. Of course, I love driving and cars, so maybe therein lies the difference. I love this little car, but I know that even were it on sale at the end of the season, the chance that I'd be able to afford it is still very unlikely. When I return from my visit home in August, I'm going to set up a test drive for a Kia Rio5.

To celebrate having a car, Gareth and I drove out to Marsh Lake. The lake is high now, or 'in' as Gareth said, because the mountain snowpack has been melting. There are dams, too, which may affect the height of the water, I'm not sure. There was only one family at the beach, though, frolicking in the effing cold water. I waded out to my knees, but turned around at that point because it really is the coldest lake I've ever walked in. We also drove in and around Whitehorse, to a lookout over the Yukon River, and up and down roads. Charming way to spend a couple of hours.

Choco and Twee were very excited to have Tracy spending the night on the futon. When we opened it out into a bed, they helped make it (in that special hindering sort of way) and then Choco helped UNmake it by jumping in and out of the covers. I think they slept with her last night, too, which is very sweet and gave Gaz and I a break from their rambunctiousness. Until breakfast time, anyway. There's a brand new hole in my toe thanks to the little beast.