The world is driving me nuts, so I thought I'd start a series about things and groups and incidents that confuse me. There's enough grist for this mill to supply the world in wheat for 20 lifetimes. I mean, be honest, can you make sense out of the world? Really? Then you're taking some really good dope and not sharing, which is a bad thing. Everywhere I turn, things get more and more strange, inexplicable, illogical, and downright bizarre. Forget parody. I can barely write about reality without thinking my brain's been infected by nanotechnological gizmos that are distorting reality.
So, I'm beginning a series on things that confuse me. I'm starting with Judaism and Jews for two reasons. First, I'm Jewish (although an agnostic) and no matter how pissed off the Jews get, they're not going to take out a million dollar bounty for my head on a silver platter. Second, I've been confused about the religion since I was forced to study it in my young years--many years ago in a galaxy far way.
Forget the notion of a literal interpretation of the Bible. That way leads down two paths--one leads to utter confusion and despair, the other to total insanity. But let's rather just look at the stories.
Here's old Abraham--I mean really old, like over 90 and God finally gives him and his wife a son. That's a pretty big deal in those days--both being over 90 and getting pregnant. And that's after all the visits to fertility clinics, sacrifices of lambs, sheep, chickens, and ducks, not to mention potions whipped up by the greasy-haired old hags, standing around a cauldron singing, Double, double toil and trouble; Fire burn, and caldron bubble.
Oh wait...that isn't the old Testament. Oh well, close enough.
Anyway, God wakes up Abe one night, who isn't sleeping all that well anyway because he's got a young kid, and tells him to take his son up to a mountain and lop off his head. Are you kidding me? Now God knows that it's just a test of Abe's faith, but Abe doesn't know that. What a shitty thing to do. Why not just give him a psych test to see if he's really faithful. Do a Rorschach thing showing him pictures of lions sleeping with lambs or something.
Article comments
— go to most recent comments1 - lumpy
nice hebraic angst. try taking the goofiness of the torah and adding the revelation of st. john the permanently on a bad acid trip and see how you like it. cani have my whore of babylon with a side of beast of the apocalypse fritters?
2 - Mark Schannon
Catholics! They may not be next, but they're on my radar screen. As for Revelations, I only wish I had access to what old john had...man, I'd make James Joyce look like a realist!
In Jamesons Veritas
3 - Michael J. West
I'm surprised. A full day and not one comment from Ruvy telling you that the way to clear up your confusion about Jews is to "come home" to Israel.
4 - Ruvy in Jerusalem
I'm sittin' this dance out, Mike. I''ll let Mark enjoy his Hebraic angst.
5 - Michael J. West
Thanks for taking the jab with good humor, Ruvy. :-)
6 - Mark Schannon
Michael, Ruvy knows it's not a jab. He may or may not agree, but just like Blacks and Italians and Irish can say things to one another without offense that others can't, Jews have the same privilege. You can love something and still think it's weird. Wait till i take off on Congress, the presidency, Catholics, Lithuanians...anyway, it's humor/satire.
Ruvy, I'm...distressed...hurt...bewildered. I was expecting us to engage in a nice long debate. What, that would kill you? Without Hebraic angst, what do we have? You think it's easy being green?
Comeon, Ruvy, you think God was nice with Abraham. Comeon, I double dare you! LOL.
In Jamesons Veritas
7 - Elvira Black
I'm Jewish (thanks to my Jewish mom, despite my goyishe dad) and a few of the things I love about Judaism are spelled out in your post:
Not much dwelling on the afterlife (it's important to do good in the here and now).
The Talmud and Torah are open for debate and discussion (hence the Jewish love of books and learning and law--secular and otherwise).
The refusal to prosteletize to non-Jews.
There's a Yiddish saying (another thing I love about Judaism--the jokes and the sayings): "It's hard to be a Jew." My aunt is Orthodox so I know all those rules and regs get to be pretty heavy. But I guess it's hard to be a Jew sometimes even for an agnostic--lol.
8 - elvira Black
No idea why my comment came out in ital--is it a sign of something?
9 - Lisa McKay
It was a sign that Mark forgot to close the italic tag after his little signoff...
10 - Elvira Black
Typical Jewish prankster!
11 - Michael J. West
I meant the jab from me, Mark. :-)
12 - Mark Schannon
Michael, my apologies, then. I was wondering the same thing--where's Ruvy? I guess...sob...he just doesn't care.
Elvira, glad you enjoyed it. A lot of the insanity here was borrowed from a novel I just finished called "God Never Answers." It's with my agent--if doesn't call me back within the next five minutes, I'm calling the wrath of God down on him & God does answer me.
And I don't see no stinkin' italics on Elvira's comment--although it would be a great gag. More Irish than Jewish, I think...but in my heart I'm Irish.
Let's see if I can do this right.
In Jamesons Veritas
13 - Ruvy in Jerusalem
Mark, when I see your novel I'll know whether you have the heart of an Irishman - or if you're just a an old Jewish kvetch.
14 - Mark Schannon
Ruvy, by the time my novel's out, God forbid we'll both be too old to read it. Oddly, there's an Irish family in there & if you think hard it is writing with an American Jewish accent, you should try writing in Irish dialect. This mishegas would make Shakespeare take up a respectable trade.
And, excuse me, I'm not a kvetch...I'm a curmudgeon. Same behavior, fancier word.
In Jamesons Veritas
P.S. you'll note, I don't end with In Mogen David Truth!
15 - gonzo marx
Mark = (kvetch + blarney) x Jamesons
nuff said?
Excelsior!
16 - Mark Schannon
Gonzo, me scotch-drinkin' turncoat, how be yer?
Although I gotta say t'ere's a lot more o' me t'an jus' kvetching (I thought I'd made it clear is was curmudgeoning), blarney, and fine Irish whiskey.
Why, there's chocolate, cognac & armagnac, fine wine, fois gros, did I mention chocolate, a warm fire, and thou!
In Jamesons Veritas
17 - Ruvy in Jerusalem
No, Mark, a kvetch and curmudgeon are very different.
A kvetch will not care if he/she descends from whatever level of culture he/she pretends to to whine, complain and generally impose his/her particular brand of misery upon those surrounding him or her.
A curmudgeon maintains whatever dignity he/she pretends to has in doing the same thing.
18 - Mark Schannon
Ah, but Ruvy, here's where I have the advantage. As a theologian, by temperment if not also by training, you have an obligation to be honest with the language.
As a fiction writer and would-be pundit and satirist, I have an obligation to obfuscate and confuse.
(Alas, I lie, but it sounded good, didn't it? And there's another distinction. The kvetch enjoys his misery while wallowing in it and inflicting it on others; a curmudgeon enjoys the misery he inflicts upon others, thus relieving himself of said misery.)
Ergo, I'm a curmudgeon, not a kvetch. Q.E.D.
(Gonzo, please take note.)
In Jamesons Veritas
19 - Ruvy in Jerusalem
Final note before Shabbat.
1. I'm not a theologian either by temperment or by training. I'm a fiction writer, an essay writer and restaurant manager and business consultant (not the order that my wallet will list them). I have the same obligations with respect to the language as you do. It's tzedaka and hessed (look it up, boychik) that I don't indulge in them on Blog Critics.
2. I never actually called you a kvetch. Read the fine print in those comments.
Shabbat Shalom,
20 - Mark Schannon
Ruvy, you know I was just kidding with my comment, right? Although I have to disagree with your modesty about being a theologian by temperment. Your depth of knowledge, thoughtfullness, and deep convinctions make you a theologian in my book.
And I know you didn't call me a kvetch--it was that dastardly knave, Gonzo.
Most important, fellow fiction writer, how'z it going? What kind of fiction & have you published?
Shabbat Shalom (Oy, I hope that's the right phrase...)
In Jamesons Veritas
21 - gonzo marx
now now , Mark me boyo...time fer ye ta be improvin' yer reading comprehension skills
i never called ye any sech thing...what i said was...
*Mark = (kvetch + blarney) x Jamesons*
nuff said?
Excelsior!
22 - Mark Schannon
Ah, Gonzo, lad, with all due respect befitting one of thy majesty and eruidite command of the language, but if one parses the formula, "kvetch" is part of it. Ergo, I am accused, how unjustly and with such deep pain, of being one of those unloving and unlovely creatures.
Or I am totally misreading this? (Like in "Men in Black," "Or do I owe little Susie an apology?")
After all, it's too early even for me to begin my daily dose of the nectar of the gods.
In Jamesons Veritas
23 - gonzo marx
well me boyo..yer missing the parts mathematical...
sure'n now, tryin' ta be parsin' this like words ruins the majesty of the mixxed metaphor...
note the subset...(kvetch+blarney)...this is a'makin' somethin greater then either alone...then multiply by Jamesons...
well , there yer a'havin it...
nuff said?
Excelsior!
24 - Mark Schannon
I kneel at the feet of the slippery master. Well done, sir. How foolish of me to even think I could best you at your own game.
In Gonzo Veritas
25 - godoggo
I went to Hebrew school at the Pasadena Jewish Temple, who's greatest claim to fame is that it's the house of worship of David Lee Roth's family. My recollection is that they barely taught us talked about the bible at all. Aside from teaching me to turn some meaningless squiggles into meaningless sounds (OK, we did learn some actual Hebrew; for example, the Hebrew word for "smote" is represented by the teacher pounding his fist on the desk), and, in preparation for turning me into a fountain pen, which required me sing my half Torah, on the assumumption, apparently, that it's better than none, teaching me to turn some other squiggles into bits of melody, most of the time was spent on filling my head with paranoid, nationalistic bullshit, which I totally bought into when I was like, 11 years old.