Today is Yom Kippur.
Normally I don't post on this the most solemn day in the Jewish year. There was a time I'd be spending the day in Temple. And by day I mean a full grueling 8 hours. In a monkey suit. Surrounded by men, who often left their seats to go to the bathroom for a ciggie and a shot of scotch from their hip flasks.
Suffice it to say, with all the fasting, all the atoning and all the endless reciting of prayers no one but the rabbi and the cantor understand, Yom Kippur is not for the faint hearted.
Years later, I subjected my own family to the yearly torture.
A lot good that did. My daughters identify as Jewish but have joined me on the dark side of atheism, best exemplified by this photo which should be read as being all-inclusive...
With regards to sinning, I'm as guilty as the next man/woman/non-binary human being.
It's not as if I don't have a lot of atoning to do. It's just that if there is a Supreme Being judging me for my transgressions, I can't rightly seek forgiveness for them as long as I cling tightly to one malefaction I'm not ready to give up.
Here I will watch my words carefully, because frankly I'm tired of running afoul of the Social Media Police.
If you've been reading this blog, or follow me on social media you surely know of my obsession. It has been my obsession for the past 8 years. And rightly so, because this thing, this monster, this embodiment of nationalist, fascist, white supremacist ideology represents an existential threat to this country. And humanity at large.
I make no apologies for my hyperbole. And posit that we have not even begun tallying the damage he has wrought. Not by a long shot.
And so today, our Day of Atonement, I will not be seeking forgiveness for wishing (and if I were so inclined, praying) for the day when his obituary makes the front page of the newspaper.
In big bold joyful type.
Amen.
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