It is difficult, oh Nation, to talk about "The Wedding" without referring to politics. However, I will undertake this challenge. I will not make declarations of affiliation, righteousness, or sanctity that say something about me, but more about my fathers and forefathers. And about the random nature of inheritance. Instead, I will tell a story.

I was once in a seaside town during the summer. One very late night I came upon a kind of revelry. There was dancing and drinking. There were shouts. There was some jostling, but despite the frictions, the individualvelocities and vectors allowed for the avoidance of any local temperature rising too much. The average energy was quite high, but stable. I stood and watched.

I was about to leave when, in one of the places on the periphery, the energy did increased. Despite the general hubbub, it was possible to hear raised voices. The pace and rhythm of the phrases coming from there changed. There was also a polarization of the individuals' trajectories – most migrated around the epicenter, while single units with particularly high temperatures moved in the opposite direction. It looked like a rapid escalation was about to occur. They measured each other closely with eyes wide open and furrowed brows. They displayed their chests. They grabbed each other by items of clothing. They bowed their heads and raised their fists. Then someone with an aura that stood out against this backdrop appeared. He stood straight. He radiated calm. He entered the center of the storm like a control rod and spoke something, looking straight into the eyes of the gathered. Not smiling, but radiating, sort of, cheerfulness. He spread his arms. If someone had wanted to, they could have punched him in the face. He was prepared for that. And he did not look like someone who would stick out his chick for another blow. But no one decided to punch.

Hands were not shaken. No one fell into anyone's arms. But the crowd once again became a single crowd. With a common purpose. Or perhaps purposelessness.

Soon after, the sun rose.