On: Iran launches missiles at Israel in first bombardment since fragile ceasefire

Well, I’ll be hornswoggled. Another fine mess in that ancient land, where folks have been squabbling over real estate since before Noah built his ark. The papers are all agog with news of missiles flying, a real sky-show, they say, between Iran and Israel. And all this after a “fragile ceasefire” had just settled in, like a thin layer of dust on an old mantelpiece.

I’ve always wondered about these “fragile ceasefires.” They sound mighty official, full of good intentions and stern warnings, yet they seem to hold about as much water as a sieve. One minute, everyone’s shaking hands and promising peace, the next, they’re launching fireworks that ain’t for celebrating. It’s a peculiar sort of peace, this, where the quiet spell is merely a chance to reload the cannons. One might almost think these ceasefires are less about stopping the fight and more about catching one’s breath before the next round. A man could get whiplash trying to keep up with who’s mad at whom this week. It does make for lively newspaper sales, though, which I suppose is a silver lining for some.