Posts
Anger is not a useful emotion. It breaks things. It does not
serve me well. I do not wish to keep it. Yet, as 2017 comes to a close, I find
myself unable (or unwilling) to let go of my fury. Perhaps my fury is what’s holding
me together. My amusement at political jokes and cartoons has an angry edge. If
it was an emoji, it would be a grinning sledgehammer. Perhaps I could sell that
concept to someone at corporate HQ for Walmart. Imagine Walmart shopping bags
depicting a demonic grinning sledgehammer that read “Have Another Day.” Another
day of tamping down the fury in an effort to stay positive.
Warning: political
content and questionable Jewish jokes ahead.
I regularly contact senators and representatives (i.e., congressional
reps) via phone, email, and postcard to speak my mind. While I do occasionally
contact my own congressional reps, I usually lean on the ones most needed and
most likely to make a difference with their vote. Honestly, I’m not angry at my
own congressional reps, so why holler at them? I want to holler at the
imbeciles who actually make me furious. At the same time, I want my actions to
have strategic impact. So I carefully choose Republicans who are wavering on
key issues and I don’t tell them I live in Cali, I just give them a piece of my
mind in the hope that I will help tip the scales when they vote. I also
regularly call the handful of most vulnerable Republican congressional reps
from Cali during off hours when no one is answering the phones and leave them
spit-flecked messages saying “you don’t speak for me and you are not my voice
in Congress and we are going to vote you out of office,” even though I can’t
actually vote them out because I don’t live in their feeble-minded district,
for obvious reasons. I don’t want to live somewhere that people actually vote
for these morons. This is my blog. I’ll say what I want. Don’t judge. It’s the
fury speaking.
On weekends I write postcards and make calls to leave
messages on machines at congressional offices. I wonder if the aides who answer
the phones on Monday morning even listen to my entire message. I should probably
throw in something to get their attention, such as, “Do they sell kosher salami
anywhere in Kentucky?” Thus one of my improved call scripts would be something
like: “Vote no on this tax legislation
that gives huge tax breaks to the wealthy and corporations and will devastate
the lives of everyone else, all of us seniors, the middle class, hardworking
people, elves, Redwood trees, waffle irons, and polar bears. The only things
that will trickle down to us from increased corporate profits are toxic
chemical-laced food, dangerous prescription drugs, deranged store-bought politicians,
yet more creative living situations for the impoverished, and tweet-lies. Do
the right thing. Vote no.” (Well, they didn’t, so I need a tax accountant who
is also a qualified therapist.) Actually, the polar bears will now be
devastated for real since somehow the GOP has recategorized drilling for oil in
the Arctic Refuge as a tax issue. How they managed to lump this into tax
legislation baffles me, but they wrote it into the margins at one o’clock in
the morning and jammed it through. Since polar bears don’t vote, and would
probably be disenfranchised even if they did (because, let’s face it, who is
going to shuttle polar bears to the nearest polling place, or should I say poling
place?), the GOP can’t pass out cigars fast enough to celebrate turning the
Arctic Refuge into the Arctic Refugee.
I’m not looking forward to Al Franken leaving Congress, despite
my disappointment in his inappropriate behavior. The Dems are throwing him
under the bus to take a moralistic stand and make a point. But not one
Republican pedophile or rapist is going to resign as a result of tossing out
Al. It hurts me to lose Al, who has been a strong voice for me and my beliefs
in Congress. Not worth the sacrifice. He should stay. He just can’t run for
president, since apparently now committing sexual assault is required to
qualify for that office and Al doesn’t have the credentials for that. Sigh.
I plan to change my activist tactics in 2018. It appears
that delusion and mayhem work better than truth and reason. It works for Mitch
and his cronies who map out how to increase homelessness on dinner napkins in
the middle of the night and it works for the Predator-in-Chief to advance his
catastrophic agenda. Here is my new plan. I will call Republican congressional
reps and leave Jewish jokes on their answering machines. They won’t have a
clue. While the percentage of Jewish congressional reps has risen in recent
years, almost all of them are Dems. There are about two Republican reps who self-identify
as Jewish, but I suspect they are simply confused Mormons. So, with Jewish
jokes in mind, here are some I have up my sleeve. If you are not Jewish, you
will probably think you get these jokes, but you will probably get them at
about 60%. Enjoy as much as you can decipher. As for Jews, have fun. I am
contemplating leaving these on the answering machines at the DC offices for the
most morally corrupt, mentally deficient, and malicious lawmakers. This should
confuse them, perhaps distract them, and, in my fantasy future, derail them. I
live more and more in my fantasy future these days. Everyone there is compassionate,
considerate, and helpful.
A Jewish man is on his deathbed and
he whispers to his daughter, “I think I smell your mother’s delicious kugel.”
The daughter confirms that he does because her mother has baked kugel. “Please
bring me some to taste for one last time,” the father gasps. The daughter goes
away and comes back empty-handed. “Where’s the kugel?” her father whispers. She
replies, “Mom says it’s for after.”
This one from Jewish comic Billy
Crystal (not a Jewish joke, just a Jewish comic’s sense of humor): “Women need a reason to have sex. Men just
need a place.”
Four Jewish women are eating lunch
and the waiter comes to the table and asks, “Is anything alright?”
The Jewish comic London Lee said he
once had a German shepherd as his pet until it found out he was Jewish and bit
him.
A Jewish grandmother comes across a
beggar in the street who holds out his hand to her and says, “I haven’t eaten
in four days.” The grandmother says, “Force yourself.”
All Jewish holidays can be
explained as “They tried to kill us but we survived. Let’s eat.”
A Jewish grandmother is at the
beach with her grandson. As she watches him at the water’s edge from a beach
blanket, a huge wave comes and drags him out to sea. The woman raises her fists
above her head and shouts at God, “How can you do this to me? I’m a righteous
woman! I obey all your commandments! Why have you taken my darling grandson?” A
huge wave comes in and when it leaves her grandson is sitting on the shore
unharmed. The grandmother looks at the heavens and says, “He had a hat.”
Finally, a true story about the Jewish
comic actor Walther Matthau. He and his wife were on vacation in Europe with the
Jewish comic couple Jerry Stiller and Anne Meara. Stiller relates that one
night, he and his wife heard the Matthaus arguing loudly in the hotel room next
to them for quite some time. At breakfast the Matthaus were clearly still
fuming at each other. The two couples went to Auschwitz with a tour group.
After walking through the museum at Auschwitz, Matthau’s wife turned to him
with tears running down her cheeks, and said, “This puts everything in
perspective and ought to make us both realize how foolish we are for fighting.”
Matthau replied, “Now you ruined Auschwitz for me.”
I imagine that after weeks of receiving Jewish jokes on the
congressional office answering machines, there will be a rash of resignations
by congressional aides and office workers. If I can gut their staff, maybe I
can force a few Republicans out of office. You never know. They have tried to
destroy us before, but we survived. Let’s eat.
If you have stayed with me through this year of fewer blog
posts and the necessity to dig deeper to find humor then I thank you for your
loyalty. I try my best to raise a few laughs and keep hope alive. It isn’t
easy, and getting harder with each passing day. I would like to imagine that
these difficult days are actually the first tumultuous years of a better world
being born. In "Laudato Si," Pope Francis writes: "May our struggles and our concern for
this planet never take away the joy of our hope." The pope is a hard act
to follow, but let me say that I wish you much hope, much joy, much wonder, and
the shelter of peace in 2018. We will continue to care for one another and lift
one another up despite the heartless and greedy machinations of this
incomprehensibly mean government. Remember to keep laughing. Blessings to you
and those dear to you in these stressful and uncertain times.
Image of a better world from Hao's Blog.
