Recent press reports have documented a massive buildup of Hizballah rockets in the Shiite villages of southern Lebanon in direct contravention of UN Resolution 1701, which ended the 2006 Israel-Lebanon war. Dore Gold explains the likely consequences:

Hizballah, supplied, trained, and funded by Iran, is building new military strongholds in Lebanese border villages. By doing so, Hizballah has turned Lebanese civilians into human shields—much as Hamas did in the Gaza Strip. . . .

UNIFIL, the UN force in Lebanon, was supposed to oversee the implementation of Resolution 1701. But do you think UNIFIL is going to enter a Shiite village and remove rockets stored in houses?

The UN is thus leaving Israel with a horrible choice if war breaks out again: the IDF will either have to destroy the weapons now being stored in southern Lebanon or let Hizballah fire thousands of rockets into Israel. . . . Under the laws of war, Israel will have every right to destroy a house that has become a legitimate military target. Shouldn’t the UN avert this outcome by taking action now? Don’t hold your breath.

Reviewing Stranger Than Fiction, a new history of the 20th-century novel, Joseph Epstein draws attention to what’s missing:

A novelist and short-story writer who gets no mention whatsoever in Stranger Than Fiction is Isaac Bashevis Singer. When from time to time I am asked who among the writers of the past half century is likely to be read 50 years from now, Singer’s is the first name that comes to mind. His novels and stories can be sexy, but sex, unlike in many of the novels of Norman Mailer, William Styron, or Philip Roth, is never chiefly about sex. His stories are about that much larger subject, the argument of human beings with God. What Willa Cather and Isaac Bashevis Singer have that too few of the other novelists discussed in Stranger Than Fiction possess are central, important, great subjects.