n an epoch-making burst of diplomatic innovation, Heritage Minister Amichai Eliyahu, of the historically peace-loving Otzma Yehudit party, offered an unorthodox solution to the complex geopolitical tango in Gaza: the atomic quick-fix. While the international community has been tediously entangled in decades of peace talks, ceasefires, and humanitarian aid, Eliyahu, in a stroke of sheer genius reminiscent of a supervillain’s monologue, decided to cut the Gordian knot with a nuclear option.

Speaking to the high-brow audience of Kol Barama, the Minister posited a hitherto unconsidered alternative to soup kitchens and medical supplies: nuclear annihilation. “We wouldn’t have given the Nazis humanitarian aid,” he said, invoking Godwin’s Law in what can only be a masterful stroke of reductio ad absurdum. Because as everyone knows, nothing says “heritage” quite like referencing World War II in a conversation about humanitarian crises.

“Let them eat radioactive isotopes!” might have been the rallying cry of this modern-day Marie Antoinette had he not instead opined, “There’s no such thing as innocents in Gaza.” A statement which, in its surgical precision, cuts through the tedium of considering civilian casualties, international law, or the moral conundrums that have puzzled lesser minds.

When pressed on the minor issue of over 240 hostages potentially irradiated by such a plan, our ministerial maverick offered up the ultimate spiritual salve: he would pray for them. A noble gesture indeed, proving that one can detonate and dedicate simultaneously, straddling the realms of mortal policy and divine intervention like a colossus.

Barely had the shockwaves from this revelation receded when it emerged that only a tweetstorm ago, Eliyahu had cited the Sodom and Gomorrah protocol for urban renewal. Indeed, what screams “heritage” more than a good old biblical smiting? The patience for evil has a sell-by date, and it seems our minister has the cosmic calendar to pinpoint it precisely.

Critics might argue that the approach lacks a certain... finesse. They might mumble something about the Geneva Conventions, international outcry, or the pesky laws of physics. But they fail to appreciate the Minister’s vision, where a mushroom cloud could just be the new olive branch.

In a world plagued by nuanced diplomacy, Eliyahu’s suggestion is refreshingly straightforward. Why bother with the messy quagmire of rights and resolutions when one can embrace the elegant simplicity of atomic alchemy, turning trouble into a glass parking lot?

In conclusion, while the Minister has been suspended from government meetings for what can only be described as an excess of candor, one cannot help but wonder: if satire is meant to ridicule the absurd, where does one go when reality outpaces fiction? For now, we’ll take a leaf out of the Minister’s book and pray — not for hostages, but for satire’s speedy recovery.

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