October 18, 2012 On Eating Treif
Whenever I hear that someone just had their first treif cheeseburger, I feel an otherworldly joy overtake me. That, my friends, is cause to celebrate human triumph. I feel, in a word, inspired. I immediately drop what I am doing and run to find the brave person to congratulate that soul. I push my way through the crowds to shake his hand and kiss his sacred toes and embrace him till the guards pry me away. Some of the people on those toes have worked years, decades, lifetimes to get to this great moment of cheeseburger consumption. This isn’t simply EATING. Ack, no way. It happens only after years and years of miserably only eating hisachdus, that they say to themselves and all their Facebook friends “fuck the fanatiks, eating ch/burger” and they post a front-camera selfie in which their nose looks like a beak. Ninety six people hit like on the beak and one person writes “where’s the luv button?”
So the spirit goes viral.
Think about it: my heroes go through hell and high water and the Mcdonald’s drivethru and shell out a small fortune (indeed very small, ninety nine cents or a dollar with one cent back) to achieve this moment of triumph over human fanaticism. Eating the cheeseburger is symbolic of complete liberation from the shackles of religion. It takes so much inner strength to bite the bullet, er, the bread. It is proof of evolution, of inevitable progress of man that we are able to overcome all wrappings and get to the crux of the sandwich. Which proves that evolution is true. There, now you believe me about the dinosaurs. My side wins.
Listen, those are brave men and women who hold in their heart the fat of the burger instead of the shnitzel. They are heroes who pave the path to enlightenment and gastric bypass. I often hear people reminiscing about this first cheeseburger and I think, wow. Toes, can I kiss those toes? How freeing that is… not the toes, the cheeseburger… Yeah, the cheeseburger, it’s like wings, only a little more filling so it pulls you down instead of up. You eat it and the French Revolution, the Arab Revolution the Syrian uprising would not have gone awry. You should try it – with pickles and pigs and squids and octopuses and a baby calf stewing in its mothers milk between the second and third bun. But then again, you’re just a regular coward so what am I saying here? Keep your toes to yourself.
Cheeseburgers Anonymous, The Cheeseburger Society on Facebook, the Openly Cheeseburger Society on Facebook and the Fucking Openly Cheeseburger Society of Facebook are all societies that come together to support each other in the effort of heroic liberation by breaking the taboo. It meets at McDonald’s monthly and a lively and impassioned fight take place over the free prizes that come with the meal. They all have that fight in them, the revolutionary, you know? Christopher Hitchens would have said this is proof that there are no atheists in the bagel-holes because they’re in the buns. (Bagels are so Jewish, feh!) The only reason he didn’t say it is because either his mouth was full of cheeseburger or he’s dead, I forget which one. But the wisdom he was gonna relay is so powerful and genius anyway. Wow, think about his brilliance! I miss him.
When you break out of a religion, the point is to break. That’s the point, and that’s what takes courage. Don’t show me wusses who just slide out a little this way or that way and don’t eat cheeseburgers. Show me a moment in history. Show me a real all-the-way pigs-on-yom-kippur-with-a-side-of-orgies moment of courage. People who hold on to some religion and don’t bite the bun are not the real deal, so they better not expect the Nobel Peace Prize or McDonald’s Free Prize with stolen ketchup packets.
At the Annual Ball for the Cheeseburger Heroes, the speakers, one by one, all relay their first cheeseburger experience, while the people in the audience chew on cheeseburgers and look very bored because darn it if just one person would spare a little detail of that “first” McDonalds and how they were hiding from everyone and thought that now the world will end etcetera etcetera. After each speech the people tap the speaker on the shoulder and they say “You are so courageous” and afterwards they all go home to write their memoir.
[Editor’s note: Oooooooooh.]
[Additional editor’s note, surprisingly necessary judging from some comments: This post is sarcasm. Look it up, guys! If you’re feeling especially sanctimonious today then this goes doubly for you. Jeez.]