Wednesday, October 8, 2014

Who ordered the Kosher meal?

I'm hungry.

You're reading this on Wednesday morning, but as I write this, it is Saturday morning, Yom Kippur, and I'm looking at a long, hot day of depriving myself of any food.

I don't know why I observe the traditions, well, some of the traditions, of my people.

As I've noted before I'm a militant atheist. There can be no God when the Syracuse Orangemen intercept a pass on the 32 yard line, march the ball down into the Red Zone and then fail to come away with a score.

And I'm not a big fan of Scripture. I don't need to get my morals and ethical guidance from an ancient goat herder who was willing to slay his son because he heard voices in his head. Or that an explosive locust infestation in Egypt was the work of the Almighty, King of King, Host of Hosts.

Particularly when the world view of that goat herder, and indeed most prophets of the time, was largely dependent on the drinking capacity and stamina of a smelly camel.

But, I abstain from food nonetheless.

More to honor my father, my father's father, and all those further down the family tree who took a beating from Cossacks, Prussians, Huns, Babylonians, et. al., just because of who they were.

Of course, that doesn't mean I give a pass to all the nonsense practiced by the more ardent members of my Tribe.

Take for instance the half-wit Hasid pictured above. In order to abide by commandment #591 set forth in the book of Ezekiel…

"Thou shalt not sit next to a woman on a Boeing 737-200, lest any of her menstrual juices contaminate thee"   

So before boarding his non-stop flight to Cincinnati, this fast-thinking zealot stopped by the airport kiosk selling large industrial-sized plastic bags, right next to the guy who sells Cinnabons, and found a unique way to do comply with the all-knowing wishes of Ezekiel.

Am I mocking? You're damned right I am mocking.

You see I have been given grief, on several occasions, about my relentless biting commentary towards Islam, the comedic gift that keeps giving. But for the record I've also had a few choice words about Christianity, the Trinity and the ubiquitous Nativity Scenes (for laughs you should go to the RoundSeventeen search box and look up Caganer.)

One anonymous reader has repeatedly taken me to task and requested that I lay some hurt on my own co-religionists.

And done.

The fact is there's nothing I enjoy more than taking potshots at Jews. It's like that old Seinfeld episode.
It's executive privilege. Plus it puts me on much safer ground. God knows I've already offended way too many people.

And now minutes before the kickoff of the Stanford game, I feel obliged to engage in some meaningful introspection. Which is difficult consider we won't be breaking out the bagels and the tuna fish salad for another 7.5 hours.

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