Anshel Pfeffer and the people in the Parisian street

There are men called journalists who have established ink baths which some persons pay money to get into, others to get out of. Not infrequently it occurs that a person who has paid to get in pays twice as much to get out.

Ambrose Bierce, The Devil's Dictionary

Anshel Pfeffer, the Haaretz' journalist, is a dork. While I don't follow all of his body of work, I had two moments of breathtaking admiration of my own, that proved his dorkiness in a satisfactory (for me, at least) manner.

Today, on the army radio, I heard a live radio interview with Anshel from Paris. It was longer that what I am going to retell here, and I didn't take notes, but the gist is as follows:

The Parisians our little Anshel talks to are not angry and are not cursing the terrorists. They, the good Parisians, are asking themselves what did they do wrong and where have they gone wrong to cause the members of their society, folks of their own, to become so alienated that they turned to terrorism.

My apologies for not passing the text verbatim, but such are the vagaries of modern communications. Anyway, I hope that you are sufficiently stunned.

Now, from the partial information that seeped through so far (and might be only partially true) we know about only one terrorist being a Parisian Arab, one Syrian (doubtlessly riding into France with the wave of the refugees), one Egyptian and three Belgians. Not to mention Daesh taking responsibility for a well coordinated massacre, hardly possible for a few alienated disenfranchised Parisians.

Did I mention that Anshel Pfeffer is a dork?