Times When I Feel Jewish
- When watching in horror as someone pours ketchup on a hot dog.
- Same deal with corned beef, mayonnaise being applied to it.
- When discussing the fact that no, “Oliver Andrew Miller” isn’t a very Jewish name.
- “The reason for that is that I’m a secret Jew.”
- When saying for the millionth time that no, I haven’t seen Schindler’s List. Didn’t realize that that was a requirement. Does the Holocaust end any differently in that one? No? Okay then.
- When watching five minutes of The Passion of the Christ.
- When arguing that Mel Gibson is really anti-Semitic.
- When having to wait years for audio recordings to prove that Mel Gibson is anti-Semitic.
- When I sweat too much. Not sure why I associate the two things, but whatever.
- When explaining that I’ve only been to temple once in my life.
- When explaining what “lox” is.
- When explaining that the Holocaust did really happen, and was not made up by the liberal media.
- When thinking about how ugly yamakas are. Could we have come up with an uglier item of clothing? A worse hat? It seems impossible.
- Ditto with the corkscrew hair thingies. We truly lack style.
- When feeling guilty for thinking these things.
- When I rearrange furniture obsessively.
- “Did you ever hear the one about the Jewish mother who ran along the beach, shouting, ‘Help, help, my son the doctor is drowning’“? …Long pause. “No, that’s the entire joke. That was the punchline. …Never mind.”
- “How many Jews does it take to screw in a light bulb? ‘…Oh, don’t worry about the light bulb; I’ll just sit here alone in the dark.’” Pause. “No, that’s the entire joke, agggh.”
- “It’s called ‘Passover’ because the Angel of Death passed over and killed all of the firstborn. No, it’s actually one of our more upbeat holidays.”
- “Because we didn’t have time to wait for the bread to rise, hence, Matzoh.”
- “I love horseradish, actually.”
- When having sex and realizing that I still feel neurotic.
- Every time I realize that I hate dancing, can’t dance, and will never be able to dance. It’s like being white but worse than white.
- “Da, da, yeinu. Da, day, yeinu. Da, da, yeinu. Dayeinu, dayeinu!“
- “Miller is my dad’s name. I’m actually Jewish, German, and English. It’s like World War II up in here, ha ha.”
- When explaining how Orthodox Jews and Israel both suck, suck beyond belief. “It’s cool; I can say that because I’m Jewish.”
- “Yes, I lived in Washington, D.C. for four years and never went to the Holocaust Museum. Does it have a different ending in the museum? Okay then.”
- “Sorry, was I supposed to wake up and have a day where I was like, ‘I’m in a sort of Holocaust-y mood today’?”
- “Can we talk about something else?”
- “No, I don’t celebrate Hanukkah.”
- “Because it sucks, that’s why.”
- When telling the story of all the Hanukkah presents that I ever got.
- “Socks. I got socks.”
- “Also I got The Big Book of Jewish Sports Heroes. From my uncle. It was twenty pages long, ha ha. No; but that’s true. That’s how long it really was.”
- When getting strip-searched in Germany because they thought I was carrying drugs. I was not carrying drugs. The guy who searched me was wearing a miltary-ish uniform and looked very Nazi-lite. I employed one of the only German terms that I knew. “Juden, eh?” I said in a sneering tone as he searched me. I pointed to myself. “Juden.” Later on I felt guilty for doing this.
- Whenever I feel unreasonably guilty for doing something that probably not guilt-worthy.
- “I’m Jewish because my mom is Jewish. That’s the law, that’s how they get you.”
- “No, I never saw Schindler’s List. I have seen Life Is Beautiful though.”
- “Boy, that movie sucked.”
- When dating a South African girl for some reason. She was really Aryan-y.
- “…Christ-killer, ha ha. The Romans actually killed him. But thank you. And then Christians did their best to put all the blame on the Jews, because they needed to suck up to the Romans. But that’s clever. Never heard that one before.”
- When explaining that I’m not kosher and that I don’t even know what being kosher totally involves. Are dairy products in play? What is the deal with mayonnaise?
- When I used to go to ska concerts and have to mingle with skinheads.
- When feeling weird about liking certain Sex Pistols songs — i.e., “Belsen Was A Gas.”
- When disliking most of my Jewish relatives, and then wondering if I was anti-Semitic.
- When hanging out with my Jewish relatives who were all doctors.
- Doctors who would show off their new BMWs to each other.
- “…The girl version of it is called a Bat Mitzvah. No; I didn’t have one. Because my family isn’t tacky and didn’t give a shit, that’s why. Only my great-grandmother cared, and she died. We were worried we’d have to do it for her sake, but she died. It’s cool. She was re-eaaaally old. So, so old.”
- When having to hear the Adam Sandler unfunny Hanukkah song again.
- When explaining that yes, we do sort of control the media.
- “Yahweh means ‘I AM HE WHO IS.’ …I think. The original name of God was probably ‘Yahu,’ which is dopey. ‘…Yahoo!’ …Yes, I say God’s name aloud. No, we’re not supposed to, I don’t think. Because I don’t believe in God, that’s why.”
- “…The reason that we started lending money is that we weren’t allowed to enter most other professions in the Middle Ages. Lending money was considered a sin by Christians. But they needed someone to do it. And it was okay for us to do it, because we were Christ-killers, ha ha. So we did it because we weren’t allowed to do anything else.”
- “And then they would round us up and burn us for being greedy money-lenders, ha ha.”
- “History sucks.”
- When explaining that Schmuck actually really means “Testicles.” …I think.
- When explaining that you can call me “your Jewish friend” if you want, but that it’s not a requirement and is also deeply weird.
- When explaining that I’ve never read the whole Old Testament. Try reading the Book of Numbers sometime. See how far you get before you kill yourself.
- When explaining that my kid, should I have one, won’t actually be Jewish unless I marry a Jewish girl. So if I don’t do that, my kid can live a life without a bunch of this weirdness, although I will mock him/her forever for being a goyim. “Can I get you some more mayonnaise for that?” I will say. “I hope it’s okay with you that I killed your savior. …Is that okay?” Thus, my child will be forever confused, isolated, and guilt-ridden, and thus will be an honorary Jew.
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They say laughter is the best medicine, and six months ago I found myself highly medicated, that is, I remembered how to laugh.
If we are not happy now with ourselves and what we are doing then what the hell makes us think that we will be happy or satisfied later?
I remember the grass tickling my bare legs and the stains on your shirt, and you smirking at my excitement before your tongue swirled pralines and cream into my mouth.
Second semester: I wonder how much coffee it would take to kill someone?