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Authors: Russell Andresen

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BOOK: Are You Kosher?
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Chapter 12

Vampires Are Afraid of Holy Water

“Stand back, you bloodsucking demon! I will pour the holy water of the Lord upon thee!” If I had a nickel for every time some sawed-off shmuck made that idle threat, I’d be richer than I already am. Of all the myths concerning my kind, this one always makes me laugh out loud. In fact, I’m doing so right now. Why would anyone be afraid of water? Water is the source of life, not the instrument of death, unless you should be unfortunate enough to be caught in a tsunami. NASA spends countless millions of dollars looking for water on other planets. That’s another chapter, though.

According to the religiously insane, this is special water. This water has been personally blessed by a pure-hearted priest. You know, the ones who can’t keep their hands off the altar boys. So the same feygelahs who like to think of small children as party favors are holy enough to turn water into some toxic brew that can burn the flesh off of any of my kind. Is anyone buying this?

I’ve personally been inside many churches and cathedrals. I’ve visited St.Patrick’s in New York, I’ve been to Rome and viewed the Sistine Chapel. I can tell you that when I was in Rome, I made like the Romans and used the holy water to cool off my hot neck and temples. Don’t judge me. It was the middle of July and I was
shvitzing
.

Catholics are funny folks, though. Catholicism is the single largest religion in the world, but when you take the time to actually understand what they believe in, it is hard to imagine that anyone with an IQ above twenty-four would buy into that dreck. How can a reasonably minded person possibly believe in the protective powers of blessed water? Just look at who is doing the blessing. Water is a source of life, as I said. Even Jesus, whom I’ve already mentioned I knew personally, would refer to it as sustenance. He turned it into wine for the love of you-know-who. I was there; I saw it. So some priest blessed it. Does that make it a weapon against so-called evil? I don’t think so. Who’s to say that the priest is not evil? I never fondled a little kid. I’m just saying.

If I’m not mistaken, and I know I’m not, the pope himself shook hands with Hitler. Now that was an evil person. Why would the leader of so many “holy” people do such a thing? That would be like Bubbe smooching President Ahmadinejad. Shit like that is just not supposed to happen.

Holy water is a term that should be reserved for Coca-Cola; after all it does G-d’s work. If you have a hangover? It cures you. Tummy ache? You’re fixed. Prostate cancer? You’re fine.

I remember once, not too long ago, when I was splashed by one of the little micks in my neighborhood with holy water. What’s a mick? That’s slang for Irishman—try to keep up. Anyway, the only thing that the little prick succeeded in doing was ruin a brand new suede jacket. He was a misguided little man to begin with. He used to refer to Mrs. Leibowitz up the block as the bride of Frankenstein. I never quite understood this one. If she were the bride of Frankenstein, wouldn’t her name be Mrs. Frankenstein? I mean, she could have gone back to her maiden name, but I digress. Don’t get me too far off the topic.

Back to the little prick who ruined my jacket. As I’m sure you have noticed by now, I take a great deal of pleasure fucking with those who fuck with me and this little bastard was no exception. A few nights after the water incident, I paid a little visit to his bedroom with a large stuffed cat and a few appropriately placed packets of ketchup. It may not sound like much, but trust me, in the moonlight it looks really good. I’m not going to mention his name because he is now a very successful producer of the
Today
show, and I am hoping to use that vehicle as a launching point to my writing career. Besides, I don’t want to have to pay royalties.

I quietly crept into his room, smeared ketchup all over my mouth and the stuffed doll and began snarling and shaking the doll to look like a beast going in for the kill. He awoke to see this horror in front of him and I swear I thought he would shit himself. He just lay there cowering in the half-lit room; he was frozen in fear. Under the blankets he went, and I heard him crying. I noticed the bottle of holy water on his nightstand and that’s when the coup de grâce took full effect. I pulled a couple of Alka-Seltzer tablets out of my pocket and mixed them with the holy water. I pulled back his blankets to reveal a foaming, incensed, and utterly deranged man standing above him. At that moment, he lost control of all, and I mean all, of his bodily functions. This was obviously too much for his little potato-drunk brain to manage. I moaned and wailed on his bed and eventually did quite a graceful backflip from his open bedroom window.

I walked home in the beautiful glow of the Brooklyn street lights and laughed to myself, knowing that one more ignoramus was off the streets and would have to try to explain to his mother that he did not have a bed-wetting problem.

Once home, I personally indulged in the true holy water, a tall glass of Manischewitz. And as the old ad used to say, Man-o-man-i-shewitz!

 

 

Chapter13

Religion: Life’s Great Comedy

About a month ago, I came home from some grocery shopping on Kings Highway to find two very attractive yet thoroughly uncomfortable-looking women sitting on the living room sofa. One was white, one black. They were smartly dressed and smiling, but with eyes that clearly said, “Can you please get us out of here?”

“Hello, ladies,” I said politely. “My name is Izzy.”

“Izzy, is that you?” Bubbe yelled from the kitchen.

“Yes, Bubbe. I got everything on the list.”

“Good, bring it in here and leave the nice Jehovah’s Witnesses alone. I’m making them tea.”

That explained the discomfort on the faces of these two seemingly sweet ladies. A religious discussion with Zena Glassman never went well. How would you like to be stuck with the yenta of Marine Park trying to discuss how you can live forever but are probably going to die? For Bubbe’s part, she had a bit of an upper hand on the two of them because she practically has lived forever and was a firsthand witness to just about everything that they were talking about. However, how can you possibly argue religion with a group of people who are actually looking forward to Armageddon? This was worse than a Mexican standoff.

Bubbe came into the room with a fresh kettle of tea and some mugs. “What are you doing?” she asked. “I told you to leave them alone and put the groceries away.”

“Okay,” I replied. “Where’s Mom?”

“Oy vey, she’s out with that shvartze sheygets again, ” she said as she smiled at the black JW, who was thankfully ignorant of the slur.

Why did I refer to them as JW? Because aside from being a kosher vampire with a love of pork and late-night feasting, I find it wise not to tug on you-know-who’s cape by mentioning his real name in an inappropriate way.

I personally like the JWs. They are a warm, friendly, intelligent group of people who are always up for good conversation. In spite of the reputation that they have obtained over the years, they really are quite content to be left alone and are a laugh riot at a party. They keep to themselves for the most part, except for the whole door-knocking thing, and are usually in a really good mood. I challenge you to be in that good of a mood if you can’t smoke or abuse alcohol or have premarital sex. But they pull it off. It’s just kind of hard to get close to a group of people who spend so much time talking about the end of the world.

That’s what I think Bubbe likes about them. She has always had a fondness for people who are true to their convictions and don’t try to bullshit you. Of course, these poor ladies, from the sound of it, were trying to discuss the prophet Ezekiel, and Bubbe not only knew him, the two of them had been quite the item.

In my humble opinion, anyone who claims to hate the JWs does so out of his own personal ignorance and inability to engage in intelligent banter or kibitzing. You have to admit, next to Jews, nobody enjoys talking to complete strangers more than they do. I think that the real prejudice against them comes from their lack of a signature dish. Look at the big religions of the world. They all have a major holiday where food is the focal point of the celebration. Jews have brisket and cholent. Catholics have the Christmas ham. Muslims have that tasty shish kebab and Hindus have … well, whatever the fuck it is that they eat.

I know I just spent some time talking about Catholics, but they are an interesting bunch of shmendriks. Look at some of their customs. Communion, for one: they dress the kids up in white suits to show purity. I would hope at six years old they are still pure; maybe someone should explain that to the priests. This is a religion that has been responsible for wars, inquisitions, and crusades. They have a pope who was a member of the Hitler youth; that’s not exactly like joining the Boy Scouts. What kind of merit badges did they give out? The symbol of their faith is the cross. Really? Is that all you could come up with? Aside from the fact that it has absolutely no historic accuracy whatsoever, it lacks nuance. The trinity also puzzles me. G-d, Jesus, and the Holy Ghost are all the same? Are you trying to say that G-d is a schizo? I met Jesus, had him over for dinner, and he was anything but a man who was suffering from multiple personality disorder.

The Buddhists are another group that makes no sense to me. Who the hell knows what they believe in. All I do know is that I once met Buddha and actually considered him a friend. I remember telling him, “Lenny—he liked it when I called him Lenny, Lenny Buddha)—Lenny,” I said, “you’re a good-looking guy, but if you keep eating like that you are going to get fat!” But what do I know? He started his own religion and turned a tidy profit in the process. It’s like Barnum said, “A sucker is born every minute.” Or to do those groups one better, how about L. Ron Hubbard and those wacky Scientologists? This man actually said, “If you wanted to make real money, start your own religion.”

And what religious discussion would be complete without mentioning those crazy Muslims? I do want to say that throughout my years, I have seldom found a more generous, hospitable, and downright friendly group of people. That being said, they really are out of their fucking minds. They are a people that have no sense of humor whatsoever. Every time someone says anything that can remotely be considered offensive, they wage jihad. I guess that means that I’ll be next on the list.

Most Muslim states claim to like Americans, when in fact what they really like is American money. And they call Jews greedy. It is no secret that Jews and Muslims do not get along, and I am willing to say from my observations of both that they are equally to blame. But I know for a fact that one of the big reasons Muslims hate Jews is because Muhammed was actually a rabbinical school dropout. That’s a scar too deep for anyone to deal with.

Like I said, I truly believe that at the core of their religion, Muslims are wonderful people, but you know what they say about the proverbial bad apple.

Is he going to criticize the Jews? Oh, indeed he will. There is so much material to go on with this topic, but I am not trying to write a book the length of
War and Peace.

Now, where to begin on my fellow Jews? Well for starters, we’re whiners. We are also spoiled cry-babies who believe the whole world is out to get us, even though in some cases, that’s a pretty accurate statement. Everybody hates us. Of course everybody hates us! We’re obnoxious. Too bad we own everything.

Not too long ago, I was at a local strip club admiring the scenery and perhaps picking out a late-night snack, when I saw a Lubavitch Jew sucking on a longneck bottle of beer, happily tucking dollar bills into the g-string of some Puerto Rican dancing shiksa. For those of you who do not know what a Lubavitch Jew is, let’s just say that they are ultra-orthodox. They are like the Hamas of the Jewish faith, total lunatics. And here is one of them participating in an act of hedonism. If that’s not hypocritical, I don’t know what is. That’s another reason why I think people dislike Jews: they have their own set of rules for things.

We get blamed for a lot also. Everything is our fault. Go ahead; I know you want to say it. Go on, say it. “Everything is the fault of the Jews.” Doesn’t that feel better, you anti-Semite? We really don’t mind being blamed for everything. After all these centuries of it happening, we are kind of used to it. When it comes to some things, though, I take issue.

For one, we did not kill Jesus. Remember, I was there. It was the Romans, or to be more specific, the Italians. To be even more specific, it was the predecessors to the Catholics. Take that, Mel Gibson. Oh look what I just did. I guess he’s not going to be on the short list of celebrities to direct the film version of this book. Another historically famous thing that Jews have been blamed for was the Black Plague—just because we had the common sense to wash our hands before we stuck them in our mouths. How about the Great Depression? That’s right; we got the blame for that one, too. Think about this for a moment. How could a group of people who are so historically known for being good with finances cause the worst economic crisis in history? And of course, there is 9/11. Why would we want to destroy a building that we owned so much property in?

I think that what I am ultimately trying to say in my little rant on the comedy of organized religion is that we are obviously all here for a purpose yet we can’t seem to agree on what that purpose is. All the great psychos throughout history have hidden behind their faiths. More people have died as a direct result of religion than any other cause of death known to man.

For almost six thousand years, I have been a keen observer of the folly that is the human existence, and I have come to the conclusion that it is nobody’s place to say who is right and who is wrong. When all is said and done, religion is like a pair of really comfortable shoes. It feels right, it fits us well, and we look good at the holiday parties—except for the JWs. They don’t have any holidays; I looked it up. Bummer.

I have known and been friends with people of every faith over the course of my lifetime and every single one of them believes that his was the right religion. Listen to me, my friends. We can’t all be right. The only thing that they all can agree on is that the world will eventually come to an end and that the only things left will be Twinkies, cockroaches, and Puerto Ricans. After all, the roaches are going to need pets. Oh, he just went there!

Vampires are probably going to survive, too. We are immortal, after all. And like it or not, the Jews will probably survive, too. We do own everything, and I’m pretty sure that in the post-apocalyptic world, people are still going to need a good lawyer, doctor, and the ever-so-important orthodontist. Besides, we have most of the money, and have you ever tried to separate a Jew from his money? Good luck.

 

 

BOOK: Are You Kosher?
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