On Eating Treif

 Posted by on October 18, 2012
Oct 182012
 

Big Breaking News:man eats cheeseburger

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 people to congratulate them. I push my way through the crowds to shake their hand and kiss their sacred toes and embrace them 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 picture in which their nose looks like a beak. Ninety six people like 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.]

On Jeans

 Posted by on October 10, 2012
Oct 102012
 

A Rabbi saying that jeans (genes) is the cause of all disease

If “he’s wearing jeans” or “she was seen in jeans”, forget it, he or she is not anymore. They are both history. Shiva! Jeans is the point of no return, the marker that you officially left. I don’t know how it so happened, but jeans has somehow earned the honorary title as symbolic article of clothing for those who leave frumkeit. When a person starts to wear jeans, a hundred Hasidic tongues start wagging. Because of the weight “jeans” and “pants” have on Hasidic identity, those who leave are imbued with a sense of monumental transition when wearing it for the first time as well.

In order to understand what this terrible thing jeans are, I polled about 40 Facebook “samples” about their jeans experience. The results were startling. The majority of those polled described jeans as “stiff” and “ill fitting”! It shocks my prudent senses just to think of it! What immodesty! Other respondents expanded a little bit on their first time experiences, all of them quite scandalous of course 🙂 I thought I’d share it with you here some of their experiences.

“I got my first pair of jean at the Gap. I had no idea how they were supposed to fit, so I asked the woman managing the fitting room if she thought they looked right. I must say they felt great. So much more comfortable than skirts. I had always thought that pants would be less comfortable, but boy was I wrong. The first time I wore them out of the house I felt like a million dollars.”

“It took me a while to find a pair of jeans I felt comfortable in so I wore them around the house first but one of the first times I wore them outside of the house was pretty memorable – I walked right past my own mother in the local shopping mall and she did not recognize me! I don’t think she even saw me and I didn’t stop her because I wasn’t ready for “that” conversation just yet. It was an oddly dual feeling – both of conspicuousness in doing something publicly that I wasn’t “supposed” to be doing and invisibility of fading into the crowd because I was dressed like most of the people around me.”

“I used to hate jeans. I thought they made you look like a farmer. I started with only black ones, cuz they were less “goyish”…”

“For me it was very confusing at first. But then I realized that my legs were supposed to go through the holes and not my arms and it got better from there.”

“I still can’t even imagine myself wearing jeans, but you know, there is many other things I didn’t even dreamed a few years ago and now I’m quite ok with it.”

“My first pair of jeans was 3 sizes big- I don’t know what I was thinking.. but I felt comfortable.”

“For me, putting on Jeans wasn’t a big deal. But the first time someone took them off was a huge deal.”

There! Now taking the jeans off… that is sin – in the best possible way!