Monday, March 25, 2013

Pass the bitter herbs of irony

Today is Passover, the day we celebrate our ancestors escape from the bonds of slavery and their journey from Egypt to the promised land.

The Bible would have us believe they were led by Moses, who wielded the staff of God and turned Pharaoh's heart. Of course I'm not buying that whole miracle, burning bush, vermin, frogs and locusts story.

I'm thinking if you had a few thousand Jews hanging around for 400 years and all they did was kvetch, bitch and moan, and sending the soup back because it's too cold, at some point you would just collapse and say, "Go. Go already."

I've been to enough Bar Mitzvahs, weddings and funerals to know this for a fact.

This year, Passover sort of snuck up on us.

I've been so busy working non-stop on the Honda pitch and my wife has been so busy with the college applications for our oldest daughter, that we got woefully behind in our Pesach preparation. In fact, as I write this we do not have any blood from a gentile child to mix in with our matzo meal. If you've read the Protocols of the Elders of Zion, you know how important that is.

I suppose I could run down to the local supermarket, bother the butcher and pick up some animal blood. But it just won't be the same. For as it says in the Book of Exodus 14:27...actually, it doesn't say anything in the Torah about mixing the blood of children in with the matzo.

But this guy says it's so. 
And what better source for the truth than a terrorist Arab sheikh in a bad Miami Vice sport coat.

Oh wait, the doorbell just rang.

It's a Girl Scout selling cookies.

The Lord does work in mysterious ways.

Chag Sameach.

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