The Mathematics of Hanukkah

The biggest problem the Jewish people in the U.S. have is a matter of numbers. Perhaps it stems from being a minority that has been further reduced by assimilation - and when you combine assimilation and minority you get asymmetry.

The asymmetrical Jewish issue manifests itself most notably in packages of kosher hot dogs. Kosher hot dogs are simply the best tasting, but that’s a subject for another day. The problem with them is that they come 7 to a package. The buns are 8 to a package. Since 7 is a prime number, the least common multiple of 7 and 8 is 7 X 8, or 56. You have to serve 56 hot dogs to make it come out even. To use them all, we could have a big BBQ in the back yard, but that will never happen. Why? Because Jews don’t have backyard BBQ parties.

The other asymmetry problem affects only 8/365ths of the year, at Hanukkah. To light the candles for all eight days, including the shamash candle, you need 2 + 3 + 4 + 5+ 6 + 7 + 8 +9 candles. To sum a series of numbers from 1 to n, the formula is ((n+1 * n) / 2. In this case, since there is no 1, the formula is (((9+1)*9)/2 )– 1 = 44. These can be neatly packaged in several ways. Go to any store that sells them and you will find rectangular boxes with 4 rows of 11 nestled together, or alternating rows 5,6,5,6,5,6,5,6 or 7,8,7,8,7,8 (one extra, just in case) or in some triangular box configuration. (The 5,6 or 7,8 are from Shlamiel, Shlamozzel, Hanukkah Candles, Incorporated). Any of these will work, so what’s the problem?

Look at all those different styles of candles! There is no freaking standard size! The same thing goes for the candleholder parts of your Hanukkiah.
You get your candles home and they are either Olive Oyls that are just too skinny and flop over, or they are Popeye arms on steroids and you have to carve the bottoms to make them fit.

If you go buy socket wrenches at Home Depot, there are standards so that you know the wrenches you buy will fit the nuts that exist in the world. Okay, you have to buy metric and SAE to be sure you are covered, but the point is, standards exist for wrenches and nuts. For Hanukkah candles and menorahs, not so much. There is no Bayit Depot to go find compatible symmetry of candles and holders.

Do you know how many nit-picky, detailed laws and procedures are in the Torah? Precise steps are written for how to prepare a sacrifice or wear clothes or any number of things (probably an irrational number of things). Beyond the Torah, there are specific rules on how to ensure that kosher hot dogs are kosher. So, could there be a rule that says you put eight hot dogs in a package or you standardize the candleholders and candles for Hanukkah? Eh. I guess God did not find this important.

Of course, there is no standardization of spelling for Hanukkah, so what was I even thinking?

I am sure Rabbis have considered the candle/candleholder issue and there is a reason, which comes to us through interpretation of the Torah. I should ask next time our Rabbi comes over for a backyard BBQ party.

The Rapture of Indian Summer

Disappearing rain forests and melting ice caps be damned! I am enjoying the climate changes in Cincinnati. We had two warm, sunny autumn weekends in a row. That doesn’t sound like much to you but, in Cincinnati, that miracle is like unto finding a chocolate chunk shaped like Jesus in your Graeter’s mocha chip ice cream.

We’re here in the middle of the country, so the coming floods, famine and pestilence that are soon to destroy the coasts will likely take years longer to get here, just like fashion trends. So we did not concern ourselves with global climate upheaval this past lovely weekend: I wore shorts and my “Ohio State Dad” t-shirt to rake the leaves and we enjoyed lunch on the sidewalk table outside the European Café, basking in the emissions from passing cars.

They call this Indian Summer, which I am sure is some kind of insult, like “Indian giver.” This web page tells how the term Indian Summer traveled to the UK where “Indian” was mistakenly thought to refer to people from India as opposed to those from America, who were themselves mistaken for people from India when misguided Europeans stumbled onto our shores. An irony wrapped in ignorance inside of xenophobia.

Speaking of Indians, “A nearly two-decade legal challenge by Native American activists to the nickname of the Washington Redskins came to a close Monday when the Supreme Court declined to review the group's last loss in federal courts.” You might think the tribes would also challenge the name “Native Americans”, seeing as they were natives before this was America. You might also think that giving up a racist sports team name would be a fair trade for the natives not bringing the genocide thing to trial – an even better trade than the Manhattan deal – but you would be wrong.

Football is important to our culture and economy. A team name, mascot and logo is big business and the Washington team has deeply invested in theirs, giving “Redskins” a tremendous intangible value. You can’t overturn a corporation’s right to profits just because somebody's feelings are hurt. Sticks and stones and all that.

Football is this important: “The University of Cincinnati plans to borrow $9.7 million to start construction on several athletic practice fields on its main campus. To be completed by fall 2010, the fields are a critical factor in UC’s strategy to retain football coach Brian Kelly.” On top of the millions they pay the coach of a COLLEGE team, they are borrowing millions in an uncertain economy in order to entice the coach to honor his contract. The thing is, they will get it all back in sales of tickets, team merchandise and TV rights because we love our football (that includes me) We’re also going to get a big fancy casino in Cincinnati. Despite the financial and other crises in our country, we are all about the bread and circuses here, particularly if the bread is a bun wrapped around a hot dog and smothered in chili and cheese.

Football is this important: A letter to the editor of the Cincinnati Enquirer says, “Notre Damers, quit picking on coach Charlie Weis. There is nothing he can do because it’s out of his hands. God has intervened and is repaying Notre Dame for bestowing an honorary degree on pro-abortion President Obama.” Charlie O’Leary’s god is a vengeful god. Also a little meshugah. Wouldn’t it have been easier to stop the university from bestowing the degree rather than to engineer a last minute touchdown for Michigan? I mean, have you seen how bad Michigan is this year? Getting some of these lousy teams to beat Notre Dame is a tough job for God. But punishing the football team may be the only thing the people of South Bend will understand.

Besides, much of the evil we see, the honorary degrees to Barack Obeetlejuice and Indians challenging corporate greed, is the work of Satan. Satan is among us and we may be soon to see the final showdown between Devil and God. I wonder if we could book it in our new college football stadium? Football is our religion, after all (college football being generally played on God's first Sabbath).

Yes, we are seeing global climate disaster, wars and rumors of wars and other signs of the apocalypse (Bengals sweep Steelers; UC Football in top 5). But while the world goes to Hell around us, my wife and I will sit on the sidewalk in front of the European Café and enjoy out gyros and souvlaki, thankfully relieved of the polluting traffic as all the righteous people of Cincinnati will have been taken to Heaven in the Rapture.

Is Satan in Your Sweets?

"If this holiday is hallowed, whose service is it set apart for? The answer to that question is very easy—Lucifer’s!… [M]ost of the candy sold during this season has been dedicated and prayed over by witches! I do not buy candy during the Halloween season. Curses are sent through the tricks and treats of the innocent whether they get it by going door to door or by purchasing it from the local grocery store. The demons cannot tell the difference."
– Kimberly Daniels

I was alerted to this warning by Mock, Paper, Scissors. The helpful Halloween hint comes from Daniels' article on Pat Robertson's Christian Broadcasting Network. (To be fair to CBN, the article was taken down)

So my question goes to Ms. Daniels: How does this candy cursing work? Is it like getting certified kosher? Do the witches damn your Snickers at the store or at the manufacturing plant? It seems it would disrupt the candy making operations at their busiest time of the year.

Geez, it used to be we just had to worry about people putting razor blades in our kids treats. That, at least, was easy to find. Witch prayers are much harder to detect on an x-ray. Do I have to take the candy to Father Merrin?

The good news is that candy must not be sinful the rest of the year.

Secular Saboteurs Shed a Tyr

In a guest column in the Washington Post, Catholic League President, Bill Donohue decries the destruction of our culture by “secular saboteurs”. Donohue documents the continuum from the 70s when (Reverend) Jesse Jackson led students in undermining this nation's Judeo-Christian heritage.” I’m guessing those bastards succeeded in undermining the Judeo part because everything Donohue refers to after that opening is strictly Christian. I get the sense that Donohue never cared much about the Judeo anyway, but now he’s pretty pissed that the secular saboteurs are working their “agenda to smash the last vestiges of Christianity in America.”

Bill O’Reilly identified the War on Christmas a few years ago, calling out the cultural infidels who corrupted the nation with the blasphemous phrase “Happy Holidays”. All the while, the soul of the Righteous People shriveled in absence of hearing "Merry Christmas" ring out from the merchants and moneylenders in the markets.

O’Reilly was unfortunately late to recognize the destruction being wrought by anti God terrorists. “Happy Holidays” was not the first verbal smart bomb rained upon theistic linguistic tradition. Think how long people have been saying “Have a nice day.” You never noticed, did you? You never noticed that they don’t say the proper name of any day. They have taken our Gods out of our days.

Our Romantic-Nordic-Judeo-Christian ancestors gave each day the name of a God: Sun God, Moon God, Tyr, Wodin, Thor, Frigg, Saturn. The Secular Sodomite Saboteurs have changed the familiar greetings so that, “Have a nice Thor’s Day” or “Wodin’s Day”, becomes the empty, atheistic “Have a nice day.” Frigg’s Day is even more abused. On that day, the greeting has become “Have a nice weekend”, referring limply to the following days, but not the sacred Day of Frigg. Why? Because Jesus rose on a Frigg’s Day, of course.

It is a terrifying and pathetic sight to see Christian refugees forced to huddle in the few remaining churches the government allows. They are restricted to observing their holy day “Christmas” only between the months of September and February. And they cannot honor their ancestral connection to frozen, white Norse men who worshiped the mighty Teutonic Gods.

Have a Frigging great day, you secular saboteur succubi!

Know When To Hose 'Em, Know When To Fool 'Em

The constitutional amendment to allow casinos in Ohio will kill puppies and kittens.

If you want to get people to vote against something, there are two proven methods:
1) Tell them it will raise their taxes.
2) Tell them it will hurt some innocent, pitiable victims.
If you go with option 2, the harm you claim does not need to be factual; people will not read the actual proposed law, they will believe what you say if it creates a perception that there’s a threat to their family (including pets)..

A recent example is the charge by some that the proposed health care legislation would establish “Death Panels” to decide if your grandparents should die. A catchy phrase that people can repeat always helps put the argument over. “Weapons of Mass Destruction” was another recent driver of policy.

Locally, in Ohio we have a new example of the “Pitiable Victim” strategy. “Foes: Casino plan hurts church festivals” (I lied about the puppies and kittens). Notice that the victim is not the Church; it’s the Church Festival, your source of summer fun, inflatable rides, beer and gambling.

Universal health care sounds good until you realize it means killing those family members we can’t afford to take care of. Casinos bringing in tourists and tax money sound good until you realize you can’t play Texas Hold ‘Em in the church parking lot next month. (And also when you realize that everyone else already has their own casinos so we’re just losing our own money). Festivals are a big deal around here, killing festival gambling might be worse than killing grandma.

Gambling is not specifically named as a sin in the Bible (I’m counting on you all not having actually read the document) but love of money, greed, coveting another’s money are all bad things in either the Torah or the New Testament Bible. Probably in the Koran - I mean - I am sure in the Koran also. So I figure the priests and ministers of the churches don’t organize the festival and probably avoid the events so as not to have to toss the moneychangers from the Temple … er, Church.

Those same religious leaders can’t actually push this initiative to protect gambling at church (possibly because it’s a lie, which is one of the commandment even priests follow). So the leaders are probably not the “Foes”; who is? It is “opponents including ‘church groups’…and attorneys for TruthPAC, a casino opposition group financed in part by horse tracks.”

Ah, the horse tracks. I am not cynical enough to suggest that it is the horse tracks who would be hurt most by the existence of casinos and that they just fabricated this “Demise of the Church Festival” story to divert our attention. Wait. Yes I am exactly that cynical, and more!

The basis of the claim is that “The very last paragraph of the proposed six-page constitutional amendment states that lotteries and bingo would not be limited by passage of the casino issue”. The contention is that church Monte Carlo nights, poker games etc. would be banned because they are not specifically mentioned. . I don’t really know if that’s true; I haven’t read the proposed amendment. But, if it is, the amendment would likely outlaw other forms of gambling not specifically mentioned, like life insurance and stock investments.

Airplane

We were sitting in the gate area, waiting for our flight when the 4 TSA agents came up. They were clearly there on business – it wasn’t quite as dramatic as, say, “The Wire” when the cops come into the courtyard at the low-rise apartments and everyone yells “five-oh” and scatters – but these four officers came in and “took positions”, definitely there on business.

One stood with his back to the wall by the door to the jetway, one moved somewhere behind me, one gave the lowdown to the gate agent and the fourth questioned “The Witness”.

The Witness was a woman about my age, seated opposite me. She spoke to the agent as they both looked at someone somewhere behind me. I heard her say “…about ten minutes ago…” She had observed some suspicious activity and as the incessant indoctrination announcements instructed, she had alerted someone. I appreciated that she had done so, but now I had to figure out who the terrorist(s) was (were).

I turned around and immediately saw two bearded men traveling with modestly-dressed women, all wearing head coverings of a different culture. They were Mennonites.

I wondered what suspicious acts they had been engaged in that had alerted The Witness. Perhaps they had been sharing fried chicken and homemade pies “family style”. Maybe she had seen weapons of mass consumption. I’m not trying to stereotype people here; it’s just that I have come in contact with the Mennonites and Amish people only at bed and breakfasts and restaurants in Ohio and in Pennsylvania. There are always large quantities of food concealed in kitchens or even openly displayed in their gathering places.

As the situation developed, it was obvious that the TSA agent trying to be inconspicuous by the jetway door was going to pull the terrorists aside and water board them … or at least wand them and look through their carry-ons. But the Mennonites boarded and front of me and went through unmolested. I had apparently made an assumption based only on the fact that they looked different from me and I was embarrassed. The worst thing was that I wouldn’t get to see the real terrorists pulled aside and tortured.

As people boarded after me I worried whether the terrorists had been arrested or any of them had slipped through. During the flight I thought I had figured it out. There was a young couple who had smuggled aboard a baby designed to render us helpless. The baby screamed through most of the 5-hour flight, especially loudly during the heavy turbulence, when we just wanted silence so we could weep and pray to our God in peace. Halfway through the flight everyone in coach (first class had been provided noise eliminating headphones) went to the couple and promised to renounce our evil Western lifestyles, but it did no good. Turns out it was just a crying baby.

The actual terrorists turned out to be a trio of women dressed as flight attendants. Prior to the flight they had somehow secreted tremendously heavy metal carts aboard the aircraft. The wheeled carts were just slightly wider than the aisle between the seat row. One hour into the flight, the women grabbed the carts and ran them pell-mell up the aisle, smashing armrests, shattering elbows and ripping legs off at the knees. They tried to cover their mission by tossing snacks and beverages at the passengers, but these just became part of the scene of carnage, mixing with the blood and severed appendages. The screaming of the multitude momentarily drowned out the baby.

Shortly thereafter, the women came by with hot towels to staunch our wounds and comfort us. It never did become clear what their mission was.

How Did We Survive?

I just saw a reference to “Greenie Stickum Caps”. I doubt that many of my readers know what those are or appreciate what a technological advancement they were. Before stickum caps arrived, we had the tedious chore of loading a roll of caps into our guns. Mattel gave us the freedom to quickly stick individual caps on our fake bullets, fire away with our revolver – six times – and then peel off the used caps and stick some more on. That special Mattel gun even fired those Mattel plastic shells at a target (I’m sure my target – my sister – remembers).

Parents today don’t buy their kids toy guns because they think it’s a gateway to the real thing. If we hadn’t had toy guns, we would have just used sticks and pretended they were guns, so why not pay Mattel to give us better toys so we could save our imagination for other things?

Kids today are so overprotected. How did we survive? I’m sure you’ve seen that email about how tough the people who grew up in the 40s through 60s were, like this and similar ones like this.

The point of these nostalgic rants is that we rode bikes without helmets, rode in cars without seat belts, jumped off roofs, threw rocks at each other, ate Drano and no one died. It’s true! Have you ever read an email called “We didn’t survive” telling about being thrown from a car or being kidnapped and killed while hitchhiking? No. No one is typing blog entries about having their hands blown off or being blinded by firecrackers or being brain damaged by lead paint. If some kid rode his bike without a helmet and fell off, cracking his head open, THEN he got a helmet. And you don’t hear those drooling morons complaining.

We ate off asbestos plates, smoked unfiltered cigarettes at recess and tattooed ourselves with rusty nails dipped in lead-based ink and we all lived. How did we survive? Harry T. Roman got it right in his blog: (link up above) by being Christians.

“Know what else we survived? Having the Bible read to us in class every morning. It produced no religious zealots, or made us “prissies”. It gave us no guilt complexes, nor long-term hang-ups; and none of us had to have remedial time with the school psychologist. It did make us aware of right and wrong; and very few ax murders, drive-by shootings, or drug binges resulted. No rapes, molestations, or other such behavior.”

That’s right, no one was ever raped until they took prayer out of schools.

We survived without email or internet porn; we made do with the underwear ads in the Sears catalog or with the Playboy magazines that Jimmy found in his dad’s closet. We didn’t have “sexting” and crap like that so there weren’t all these teen pregnancies. Parents didn’t have to waste money on cell phones and such and were able to get kids better stuff; like the time Jimmy’s sister got to go on some year long trip, right before their little sister was born.

I miss those days when we could play with guns unattended while our moms smoked and drank. It didn’t hurt us. We survived. What was I saying? Oh yeah, Greenie Stickum Caps. Brings back Good Times. Let me tell you about how we survived...

To hear more about the things we survived, listen to Bill Cosby. If you can get this site to work, click on “The Playground”
(site may not work well)

Give Us This Day Our Daily Bread

Passover ended at sundown today and we had pizza for dinner, as Rabbi Bar Toli instructed, "You shall eat it (the Passover reprieve) with tomato sauce and cheese."

We used to bake up a homemade pizza, which was delicious but disappointed Allie - she always wanted Papa John's. Naturally we forced her to have the homemade because we hated her and were always looking for ways to cause her misery.

Allie was unhappy with pretty much everything about Passover. She loved (still does) pasta and bread. "Why does Passover have to be about bread?" she whined, "Why can't it be about pork chops?" We still haven't told her that Passover doesn't really exist: that we conspired with millions of people all over the world to create a "religion" we called "Judaism" just so we could invent "Passover" and make Allie go a week without spaghetti and garlic bread. We hate her that much.

Karen and I like bread also, and 8 days without it gives us serious cravings. I have friends who say they like matzah. I like it too, but when it is the only choice, you realize that it is dry, tasteless crackers. So we are ready for celebratory pizza when the big day comes.

Since Allie is away at college, we don't have to make the nasty homemade stuff and we decided to go out - but not for Papa John's, since their crust is more tasteless than matzah. We went to La Rosa's to get their pan crust pizza. Pan crust because after 8 days of crackers you don't want the thin crust.

Our pizza arrived and we took big, delectable bites of real bread. But something was not quite right. The pan crust was flat and doughy. Our waitress explained that sometimes they get a batch that just doesn't "fluff up". The bread did not rise. We were experiencing the 9th day of the bread of affliction.

I know. It's karmic payback for all the suffering we put our daughter through.

So let it be written, so let it be done - and hurry up, for God's sake

So, when we left off, we were preparing for Passover. The original Passover preparation involved smearing lamb’s blood on the doorpost and making special preparations for eating dinner prior to travelling, as God commanded “Now you shall eat it in this manner: with your loins girded, your sandals on your feet, and your staff in your hand; and you shall eat it in haste.”

The lamb’s blood was a marker for the Angel of Death so that he would pass over the Hebrew’s houses and slay the first born in only the Egyptian’s houses. When I was 10, I had a paper route and I was able to find my customers’ houses without benefit of blood markers, but the God of Biblical times was a bit over the top. (Any God who uses cutting off a bit of penis as a contractual covenant obviously favors the dramatic gesture).

The blood smearing is one of those elements of the Passover origins that we forego these days. What with lambs being scarce in the ‘burbs and the concerns about food borne illnesses, it’s just as well. We also don’t make much of a deal about the shoe-wearing or loin-girding, which is basically just preparing for dinner as if company was coming: putting on a belt, shoes and something nicer than that t-shirt with the pit stains (“and tuck it in, for God’s sake"). As for eating with your staff in hand, that would seem to contravene eating in haste, as having two hands free would seem more efficient. But who am I to question?

One of the reasons I doubt the complete authenticity of the Passover story is that I don’t think that any Jews could prepare for a hasty departure, at least not the Jews I know. When we visit my in-laws in Florida, any trip is preceded by a fifteen-minute discussion of who is actually ready and who has been waiting for whom and whether somebody has the coupons for the free meal and whether you need a sweater in the restaurant.

You know that the Jews in Egypt went through something like this:

“Wait, I have to go to the bathroom. Did all of you kids go? I want to make good time crossing the desert – we’re not stopping to let you pee.”
“You’re not driving the cart after four cups of wine.”
“Sadie, where is my belt and my shoes?”
“Do I wear them? Find them yourself. I’m trying to make bread for the trip. This is not going to have time to rise, you know, Mr. ‘we must leave ‘ere midnight’. What kind of person goes out in the desert at this hour?”
“Where is Sharon? She is always late.”
“I can’t find my good staff.”
“Did you smear the lamb’s blood?”
“I thought you did it.”
"Uh, oh. Where is Seymore, our first born?"

And so on.

In the end we had a good Seder, once we found the silver and the “good” glasses and enough nice serving platters. We spent a pleasant evening, reading and discussing the haggadah, drinking our four cups of wine and eating a wonderful dinner. We wish you all a Happy Passover and/or Happy Easter.

Schmoozing on Punimbook

Oy, we are killing Facebook.

Our Temple, like many congregations of all religions in the country, is finding it hard to attract new young members. 40% of our members are over 75 years old. We have to have one full time funeral rabbi to keep up with the work load.

Young people are more attracted to places like the mega-churches that have sanctuaries to hold thousands, and where there is a snack bar, a coffee house and a shopping mall attached. These places are like casinos, except that you go in to double down on your soul and maybe catch a show where a magician makes your sins disappear and levitates the dead.

So anyway, to appeal you a youthful crowd our Temple planners have some very good plans to provide social events and community action. In addition, we now have a Facebook group for Temple members, and the older ones are embracing it, looking forward to friending the younger members.

If Facebook is not already passe, it's dead now. Young Jews in Cincinnati are saying things like, "Listen, Sarah, I'm not using Facebook anymore. Every time I am online, my mother writes on my wall, 'Rachel, sweetie, what did you eat today? I see your pictures; like a stick you look.' And my grandma is on there now asking, 'Rachel, I see your relationship status is still 'single.' What's up with that?' So follow me on twitter - or maybe I'll just use the phone from now on."

I joined the Temple Facebook group and I now have lots of friends whose important events I can follow: "Sylvia is going to the doctor. Doctor Glickstein. Such a nice boy. My son should be so smart." "Rose is wondering what Carol did to her hair. It's orange and like hay, it's so stiff. Don't tell her I said anything." "Morty is hoping to have a good bowel movement today."

John is hoping that Facebook or not, we get some new members - and at a faster rate than we're losing the old ones.

See Me, Feel Me, Touch Me, Heal Me

Gold Bond claims that their “Gold Bond Ultimate healing Skin Therapy Lotion” heals dry problem skin. When I heard their ad I immediately put that on my shopping list because I have dry problem skin on my right hand. Ha… and … ha; I hear what you are thinking. No, it’s because I prepare most of the meals around here and I clean up the pots and pans and kitchen counters afterwards. Do not be bringing your nasty thoughts into it.
The skin on one finger of my hand is particularly chapped and cracked – or it was. That lotion did actual heal the skin up, which other lotions never had.
It can’t be that Gold Bond’s healing lotion is so different from other lotions. I checked the ingredients on another brand my wife bought that never helped my skin. It contains, “Water, glycerin, dimethicone, petroleum, cetyl alcohol, stearyl alcohol, and so on, etc.” I looked at the Gold Bond Ultimate healing lotion. It contains, “Water, glycerin, dimethicone, petroleum, cetyl alcohol, stearyl alcohol, and so on, etc., Jesus, and trace amounts of other deities.” Ah ha! JESUS!
I figure the “other deities” are there for fragrance and color and it is the Jesus that causes healing. Sure enough, the other Gold Bond Ultimate lotion (softening) contains the trace amounts of deities but no Jesus.
But ingredients are always listed in descending order of quantity. Why is Jesus the next to last ingredient: why is there so little Jesus in the lotion? I figured if they increased the Jesus and cut the water, that lotion could go beyond dry skin and heal burn victims. With enough Jesus in the lotion, the blind could walk and the lame could see. But no – I realized (an epiphany)- for healing you need just a touch of Jesus.
Okay, I get that, but how do they have a product with Jesus AND water and NOT have the water turn into wine? It’s a FREAKIN’ SCIENTIFIC MIRACLE! That’s what it is.
Reading a little further, I noticed the advisories:
“WARNING: Keep out of reach of small children and atheists. If applying to a Jew, test lotion on an inconspicuous area first because it may cause burning and/or conversion.”

I don’t care-uh - and I am not worr-ied-uh.
I am throwing caution to the wind.
I am healing my blistered skin!
Brethren and sistern, I love this lotion
I testify to my devotion.
If you would like to get some of this miracle cream, send your love offering to the Little Blog Church of the White Creamy Gospel Truth.
Don’t make me holler, don’t make me shout.
Turn them pockets inside out.

Can I get an ame-lujah?

This is My Body - You Want a Piece of Me?

JERUSALEM - Israeli police rushed into one of Christianity's holiest churches Sunday and arrested two clergymen after an argument between monks erupted into a brawl next to the site of Jesus' tomb.
This is the picture with the story:

Look at the white haired guy on the right. Thst's not some Greek Orthodox monk, that's Kris Kringle fighting for control of Christmas.:

The supposed "War on Christmas", to me, is more about the conflict between Jesus Christmas and Santa Christmas than it is about non-Christians trying to get rid of "Merry Christmas". Maybe Mr. Sawyer was right about Kris being prone to violence.

I Love LA

My vacation in California is over but I will savor the memories of another week in that land of crazy people. I saw, or, actually, smelled the hotel manager and desk clerk smoking marijuana in a room behind the front desk. I saw a bride in a full length, traditional wedding dress traipse across a hundred yards of beach to stand with her tuxedoed husband in wet sand having their picture taken. I saw a store called "Grant's for Guns", with crudely painted pictures of handguns on the exterior and a large sign saying, "Great Halloween Ideas" (I imagined a suggestion that starts with the question, "Are you tired of gaggles of costumed trick-or-treaters on your doorstep? Well....."). I saw a man get a ticket for riding his bike on the Redondo Beach pier where there are no fewer than ten signs imploring him to "Walk Your Bike In This Area". No doubt bike walking will be the subject of a proposition in the next election there.
California governs by propositions. I don't know how many there are on the ballot this year but there are numbered ones and lettered ones that go as far as "Proposition DD", leading me to believe there are at least 30 lettered ones. The one getting national attention - and national contributions - is Prop 8 which seeks to ban same-sex marriage in California.
One of the arguments used to promote the proposition is that, if same-sex marriage is allowed, any church which refuses to perform such a marriage will be sued by the gays. And they'll win because of the liberal (i.e. immoral) judiciary, you betcha. Just like all those lawsuits against clergy for refusing to perform legal interfaith marriages and those lawsuits against the Catholic Church for refusing to recognize legal divorces.
The most compelling argument for legally forbidding same-sex marriage is that God intended marriage to be between a man and a woman for the purpose of procreating (Proposition 9 on California's ballot is the Pro Creating Amendment). Yes, clearly allowing gays to marry will undermine this purpose and cause heterosexuals to stop having children. Or, wait, is it that denying gays the right to marry will force them into heterosexual unions, producing children like "normal" people? Either way, it is a clearly logical point.
Following on this lead, I am proposing an amendment to the Constitution to ban sex outside of marriage, masturbation, contraception and childless marriages, all of which controvert God's will that marriage and sex are intended for procreation, not random, hedonistic pleasure and any variation hinders my ability to have a real marriage.
They must be stopped at all costs. We must get funds from throughout the nation and we need passionate volunteers. To heck with spending money, time and energy fighting poverty, or helping people find jobs or get medical care. Forget being passionate about helping people - let's direct all that toward stopping people from being happy because their happiness makes us itchy and cranky.
I feel sorry for that poor couple I saw on the beach, having their wedding degraded by knowing that somewhere in California, two homosexuals are getting married at the same time. It will probably render them unable to consummate their marriage and have babies.

If God's On Our Side

I have been reborn. Previously I denied that God could be interested in football.

"And, seriously," I wrote, "if God were interested in football, why would it be played on the Sabbath (Friday night and Saturday for you Jewish, high school and college fans or Sunday for the Christian, NFL fans?"

Since then I have had a revelation; it is precisely the fact that God created Football on the Sabbath that gives me faith that he is a fan. When a player “takes it to the house” it is God’s house. This is why we should worship at the stadiums and in front of our TVs instead of in Churches and synagogues.
Ohio is full of religious zealots. High school football may not be as big here as it is in Texas, but it is followed with holy devotion. We get to see 16-year-old kids interviewed on the news, developing their big time cliché skills (“we just went out and played our own game” “I give all thanks to God” “when one guy has a bad game, someone else steps up”). I’m not so much a high school fan though, I follow the college denomination. As I reported last year, I am a convert to Temple B'Chai (usually transliterated as “Buckeye”). Now I have a crisis of faith as Beanie Wells, the star running back, sits on the sideline with an injured toe. It is not so critical this week as it will be next week when The Ohio State University plays against USC in Los Angeles. What is God trying to say? Will Beanie be miraculously healed before next Saturday? Or does God actually support our enemies, the radical, fundamental Trojans?
This is a similar conundrum to that faced by those who believe we are on a mission from God in Iraq. When the enemy has success there, don’t the radicals run down the field pointing their finger heavenward, thanking God (by any other name, still the same) just like we do?
Whose side is God on? That question was best posed by the poet, Robert Zimmerman.

What if God Were Two of Us?

If God had a name, what would it be?
Would she be a he or he be a she?
Rabbi Mark Sameth says that if you read the Torah backwards, it reveals that God has a dual gender. I found this hard to comprehend because the only way to read the Torah is backwards; it's written right to left.
What he's actually saying is that the Hebrew name for God, when read in reverse, makes the sounds of the Hebrew words for "he" and "she." He contends that it is intentional and that it is just one of many secrets in the Torah. "Jewish mystical traditions have long found levels of meaning in the Hebrew Bible beyond those that come from a literal or metaphorical reading." For example, "In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth", read backwards becomes, "Htrae eht dna snevaeh eht detaerc Dog gninnigeb eht ni." No, it actually says "Paul is fercockt".
Clearly Rabbi Sameth is on to something that could change the world: a Jewish "Da Vinci Code." Only it couldn't be Da Vinci - too goyisha. It would be the "Chagal Code."
But who would be the lead actors? Who is the Jewish Tom Hanks? Adam Sandler?
No, I'm not suggesting him for the role, I'm asking him for some Jewish actor names. "Paul Newman's half Jewish ... Harrison Ford's a quarter Jewish..." Thank you, Adam; two fine actors but not even one whole Jew yet. I'm going for either Jake Gyllenhaal or Seth Rogen. Now we need the hot female who is also strong and independent. There's Jamie Lynn Sigler or Scarlett Johansson. No, wait, I think I've got the perfect pair: Daniel Radcliff and Amanda Bynes! They are two great actors, if it's backwards day.

Read backwards stuff at Humor-Blogs.com and vote for my entries.

And Mitt Romney is Her Dad, I Bet

UPDATED - see below
Yesterday’s post has a comment from a young woman named Cali. She implored me not to read her blog, so, naturally, I did. Cali is married to Geoff and they live in Orem, Utah, far away from where I live, so I’ve decided stalking them would be awkward and I’m not going to do it, for now. Since I haven’t done the stalking research, I am going to go ahead and assume, because they live in Utah and I need to stereotype them for purposes of this blog, that they are Mormons, which presents a problem for me.
I already have a reader who is an ordained minister. When I mock religious wingnuts or write about God and Jeez, I always worry: WWJT, What Will Jenny Think? Now I have the added burden of worrying about the Mormons. I hope I haven’t written any rude things about Mormons in the past, like comparing them to Scientologists or lawyers or something. Cali, if it helps, one of my best friends from college is a Mormon, so, you know, I’m okay with it.
On second thought, I don’t know why I’m worried. I do wonder what Jenny thinks about my evangelist bashing or irreverent discussions with God, but it doesn’t stop me from writing them. Heck - no, not “Heck” – Hell, (be bold!) I worry that my conservative, right-wing, Republican, straight, white, American father must get madder than a wet Ted Stevens when I bash Bush or write pro-Obama prose like some left-winging, peace-loving, pro-choicing, bare-footing, lazy-ass hippie, but it never actually stops me. Trying to make someone laugh is more important than trying to coddle his or her overly-sensitive, whiney-butt feelings.
So I’m not going to worry about the Mormons, but I am curious. Cali seems like a nice young woman who loves her husband and family and has a very nice life in Orem, Utah. How did she stumble into this dive? Furthermore, what possessed her to actually link to it on her blog? I’m thinking maybe she and Geoff found it while on a mission and they are displaying it on her blog in order to say to the world, “Look! This - this “Late for the Sky” is proof of what happens to you when you drink coffee and beer, you have only one wife and you don’t go to church! Read it. Read it, and then wash your hands and pray that you shall not become like this.”

UPDATE - It seems that Cali was referred to my blog by Geoff. This is his blog. Okay, so Cali does not see my blog as a morality lesson, it is something to distract the children with if they happen to accidently open panchobizzaro's blahg. But how did Geoff find this place?

All my wives drink scotch and read Humor-Blogs.com and vote for my entries.

A Little Bit of Soap

Daniel Radosh, in his book Rapture Ready*, writes about Steeple Hill (a publisher of “inspirational”, i.e. Christian based, romance novels) issuing to its writers a list of taboo terms, including, “Geez/Jeez (can use ‘Sheesh’ instead)”. The reason for the taboo is obviously that those exclamations amount to taking the Lord’s name in vain; “Jeez” (sometimes spelled with a “G” when they messed up chiseling in a stone tablet) was the nickname favored for Jesus by his crew. His boy, P-Dog (later “Rock”) gave him that one, though P-Dog denied it thrice. This bit of Christian pop history was overlooked by Radosh in his book.
But I digress. The “Jeez – Sheesh” reference took me back to childhood. We lived in a neighborhood with several Catholic families. One of them, two doors down from us, had a girl and a boy near the age of my sister and me. Their mom would baby sit us while our mom was at work. This would later be known as “daycare”, though if this woman had been running an actual service, I would not have been (at 4 and 5 years old) running around loose with Jimmy Fox, the bad kid down the street. I would not have been on unsupervised excursions to smash Christmas lights in the street (the old-fashioned, big ones made a tremendous “pop”), steal playing cards from the drug store or poop in the backyard because we were locked out of the house.
But I digress; those stories can be told another day.
The dad in the Catholic babysitter family was at work most of the time, which was a blessing, because he was one angry, scary dude. If we were all eating together and one of the kids, his own or us, did or said something he didn’t like, he sucked the food off his fork, then used that saliva-laden utensil to whack the offending kid on top of the head. Occasionally he would get exasperated and utter some twisted command like “don’t chew with your mouth full” or “don’t talk with your mouth open.” Woe be unto the child that laughed at this, for the spit-washed fork would be upon his head! That’s not the scary part, though. When his kids did something really bad, there would be beatings – I can’t remember if he used a belt, a hairbrush, a stick or all three, I just remember the trembling fear that one day he might forget I was not his son and do the same to me, because he threatened exactly that.
Somewhere in between the semi-harmless spit-fork and the fierce beatings was the classic washing-the-mouth-out-with-soap. This was not reserved for their own kids; I tasted the business end of a bar of Ivory when I bit my sister in the back one day (I don’t remember what inspired that bite, but I remember the consequence still).
One day the four of us children were talking and laughing about something and their boy, Ray, said, “Sheesh.” Then he froze. The atmosphere that had been light and airy became dense and shrouded – suddenly his dad filled the room, dark and rumbling like a storm cloud. Ray was hustled away to chew on some soap and receive a whipping while his sister, Jeanne, explained to us that “sheesh” was just a substitute for “Jesus” and uttering it in vain merited the same damnation as using the Lord’s actual name (or his nickname, “Jeez”). I watched my mouth after that, and kept it closed. I assumed "Gosh” was forbidden but I wondered about “golly” and “goodness”, since “good” is derived from “God”. (Right, Bill?).
The whole thing has stuck in my mind all these years and was retriggered when Rapture Ready informed me that “sheesh” was allowed by the strict guidelines of Steeple Hill and not equivalent to "Jesus". I wish Ray’s dad were still alive and I could take that book and show him …. And whack him on the head with it, then make him EAT the goddamn thing whole. Jeez!

*Rapture Ready is a well-written, well-researched examination of Christian pop culture, both amusing and enlightening. Sheesh, it’s good!

Geez, please guide people to Humor-Blogs.com and make them vote for my bloggings.

A Plague of Roaches?

"Is Marijuana Kosher For Passah" (Passover)

As we always ask at the Seder, "On all other nights we fire up a doobie at dinner. Why on this night do we just get wasted on wine?"

It's logical to put aside your refer during Passover because, when you get the munchies, all there is is matzah. and, even when you're stoned, that's just dry, tasteless crackers.

But why would toking on a number be non-kosher for Passover? Because we fled Egypt before our crop could be harvested and dried? Because the locusts ate it all? Because we would start giggling about the word "Pharaoh" and not be all serious about how we were once slaves in Egypt?

According to the article linked above, it's because weed is classed as a legume. Have these rabbis ever had a drug education class in school and SEEN a marijuana plant? In what way does marijuana resemble peas, beans or peanuts? It looks more like a tomato plant to me.

But, then, I'm foolishly looking for logic in kosher law, which is like looking for an honest man in D.C. There is no logic: The article says it is because legumes were stored next to grain and might fraternize too much and become assimilated. Another explanation (and this is only for Ashkenazic Jews) is "The Smak (Rabbi Moshe of Kouchi, 13th century, France) explains that products of (legumes) appear like (wheat or grain) products. For example, it can be hard to distinguish between rice flour (kitniyot) and wheat flour (chometz). Therefore, to prevent confusion, all kitniyot was prohibited."

Seriously, the "Smak" rabbi? The Smak rabbi says we can't eat peas because we might confuse them with flour? Only if we are STONED! "Dude, am I eating a pack of Ho Hos or a bag of lima beans? I am SOOOOOO wasted right now, man. Wait, wait - listen: 'Pharaoh'. hehehe 'Phaaaaraooooh'. SNORK! It sounds SOO weird."

So, if we don't get high and confused on Passover, we should be able to eat legumes, right? Dude, I am so confused. At least I know grass is allowed on Easter.

God Only Knows

This guy got drunk, fell 16 stories and lived. He says he survived because "somebody had a plan for me". I infer that he means God had a plan because he says "There ain't too many days go by that I don't thank God that I'm still here." and he went so far as to attend church the first Sunday after he got home. It's not clear if he means that God's plan was to get Joshua to attend church that one day and pitching him out a window was the best way God could come up with to accomplish it.
Most assuredly, I don't know God's plans or his M.O. for accomplishing them. I am nevertheless skeptical when people attribute someone's death or survival to "God's will" or "God's plan". For example, assuming there is no "Funniest Heaven's Video" show up there, why would God particularly want Sonny Bono to ski into a tree?
People are often rather selective in what they credit God for. When quarterbacks throw a touchdown pass, they often point to the sky, indicating their thanks to God. When, on the next possession, the quarterback throws an interception, he never shakes his fist at the sky, indicating that he is miffed at God. If God actually is determining the outcome of the game, why even play; we could just look for the score in the Church bulletin. And, seriously, if God were interested in football, why would it be played on the Sabbath (Friday night and Saturday for you Jewish, high school and college fans or Sunday for the Christian, NFL fans - Monday or Thursday night football being an abomination).
If God has a plan for us, I believe it's a very general plan and not so specific that it involves saving Joshua Hanson from his drunken stupidity. Does Joshua believe that this conversation took place as he crashed through the window:
St. Peter: Lord, Joshua Hanson just went out the window on the 16th floor of a building.
God: Joshua Hanson? Me damn it! I have a plan for him. I turn around for one second and they all get drunk and act crazy.
St. Peter: Perhaps you should not have given them wine, as Noah himself fell into trouble with that. That aside, you still have time to save Joshua.
God: Yeah, but I don't want it to look like a miracle. My plan for him is secret and I don't want him to suspect anything. Just stick an awning under him or something.
If that was the way plans were managed in Heaven, it would make God look like Michael Scott, the manager of The Office.

War of Words

To answer Susan's question, yes I've been busy - November and December are crunch time for me at work. I've also not posted because I've been so angry/frustrated/depressed about the supposed "War on Christmas". People who want to "put Christ back in Christmas" really believe that the way to start is to boycott retailers who won't slap a "Merry Christmas" on their merchandise? The glow from millions of Christmas lights must be blinding them to the irony.
I feel sorry for the bitter people who believe in this imaginary war on Christmas and suspect that the malls have weapons of Mass destruction. These people are free to celebrate Christmas in their churches and their homes, complete with Nativity scenes and inflated Santa Clauses. Yet they can’t enjoy their freedom because the public square doesn’t have a manger display. Their radios are blasting Christmas music, their TVs are running Christmas movies non-stop, their friends and family are shouting joyous “Merry Christmas” wishes to them but they can’t hear them because they are still stunned by the cruel taunts of store clerks wishing them “Happy Holidays”. How DARE they?
These people are forced to acknowledge that there are some people with different religious beliefs than theirs and they interpret this as persecution of Christians. They are fortunate they have never been denied jobs or club memberships or respect because of their religion as others have in this country. Yet they so offended by having to share this freedom they can’t appreciate it. It’s very sad. I hope they are able to overcome their self-inflicted war wounds and have a Merry Christmas despite themselves.
What's wrong with people? I felt a little better after seeing Jon Stewart accept responsibility for the war. (Watch the "Secular Central" video)
Then I was saddened again by this story. I know it's not about Christmas but it's simlar in my mind. How can people be so close minded as to deny anyone the right to speak in a different laguage in a school hallway? God forbid (literally) their kids be exposed to the knowledge of different languages, different cultures, different religions.
For all these people I have a song to cheer them me up:

("We Need A Little Christmas")

Haul out the holy
Our Christmas tree will be A - Christmas tree again
When I’m out shopping
Don’t wish a “Happy Holi-DAYS” – to me again nooooowwww
Because there is a war on Christmas
The left wing nuts are in it
We’ve got to boycott Wal-Mart
That’s how we will win it
So let’s fight the war for Christmas
Let right wing Christians spin it
Get the public in a fury
Sue the Jews and stack the jury

So make – Ci-ty Council
Put up a life-size Baby JE-sus manger scene
This Chris-tian nation
Is what the se-cu-lar FOLKS – are endangering nooooooowwww
So enforce the Christmas spirit
Make everyone revere it
Make the pagans fear it---
And strike back at them in anger
Onward Christian soldiers
Fight the war for Christmas now!