by Jon Stewart
OUR HISTORY
The history of the Jewish people has been described in many scholarly manuscripts as "the shit end of the stick." Even the recently translated Dead Sea Scrolls end with the phrase "Watch your back." The threat of persecution has not been offset by the promise of an occasional nice brisket. The New Judaism will deemphasize historical trouble for a more positive outlook. Up to now being the Chosen Ones has brought nothing but trouble. In the New Judaism, all Chosen Ones will receive a value pack worth hundreds of dollars in discounts at participating vendors (for example, 10 percent off any dinner at Friendly's, with purchase of a Fishamajig sandwich).
OLD JUDAISM PASSOVER SEDER
CHILD: Why on this night do we eat bitter herbs?
ADULT: To remind us of the pain our ancestors felt while enslaved in Egypt.
NEW JUDAISM PASSOVER SEDER
CHILD: Why on this night do we eat hot fudge sundaes?
ADULT: To remind us that being Jewish is like having your birthday every day!! Plus they're delicious!
OUR LAWS
The key word here is simplify. The Torah and Old Testament are all over the place. Thou shalt not kill. Thou shalt not commit adultery. Don't eat pork. Not only do some rules seem arbitrary, the language is very B.C. The New Judaism simplifies the rules of conduct into a concise, hip jargon the young people will really go for. The new rules are: Ass, gas or grass, nobody rides for free; and Be cool.
OUR MASCOT
"Jews have a mascot?" you ask. No. This is a problem. Any new idea that expects to have legs in the marketplace needs a lovable mascot to represent and brand the product with the populace. Just ask Santa. How many Jews have felt the pain of trying to compete during the Christmas season by concocting a mascot, the personification of their own gift-giving holiday? A .Hanukkah Harry, the swarthy man in charge of Jewish kids' presents who waits until the Christmas rush has ended to try and get some decent bargains, only to find the good toys gone. The New Judaism takes a page from the playbook of successful ventures like Christianity and R. J. Reynolds with the unveiling of our new character, Jewey. Jewey's a cool, camel-like character (actually Joe Camel with some slight retooling) who brings laughter and joy to all the Kinder. Imagine a Bar Mitzvah boy's excitement at knowing he just became a man, and that Jewey's on his way with money and cigarettes. And here's the best part ... He can fly!!
CONCLUSION
As Karl Marx wrote, "Religion is the opiate of the people, and who couldn't use a little opiate every now and again." People want religion. They like it. It makes them feel secure and confident in a world of uncertainty, besides giving them a place to go on weekends. You just have to make sure your religion is appealing enough. If we are to reduce Portnoy's Complaint to a suggestion, we must leave behind the bounds of the Old Judaism and retool. The New Judaism will ensure the continuation and flourishing of the Jewish people well into the twenty-first century. Mazel Tov and All Praise to Uncle Pete.
PEN PALS
October 3, 1994
Dear Mother Teresa,
Hi. You don't know me but my name is Diana and I'm your biggest fan. I've never written a letter like this before so don't think I'm crazy but I think you're the coolest. The more I hear about you the more I think we're like sisters or something, where one of the sisters is this really beautiful princess and the other isn't.
I want to know everything about you. Where do you live? I know you spend a lot of time in India, which is really weird because I live in England and 1ndia used to be one of our colonies. Do you spend summers there? I hear it's really hot. Do you drink tea? Iced tea? Have you ever been to Monaco? It's totally fun.
I'm married, are you? You're probably too busy what with the lepers and everything. I think it's kind of fun to be married. Well I guess I should be going, Cindy Crawford is coming to meet my kids and then we have to go to an Elton John concert—yuccck! Anyway, I would love to meet you for a drink or coffee, whatever, my treat! Please write back or call me soon. You can call collect (but don't make it a habit ... ha-ha).
Your friend (hopefully),
Her Royal Highness
DianaPrincess of Wales
Buckingham Palace
Suite #3 London, England
P.S. I'm not crazy.
November 12, 1994
Dear Mother of All Big Snobs,
Braaaaaay!! Braaaaaaay!! Do you know what that sound is? It's the sound an ass makes, which is what I feel like after writing you with an offer of friendship and never hearing back. I really thought you were different but I guess you're just too big and important to write. I could have any friend I want including any of the surviving Beatles and I chose you. But I guess that doesn't matter to a bigshot like you huh?
Maybe all those people on TV who say such nice things about you don't really know you or maybe if I had some stupid disease like leprosy or hemophilia you'd find it in your supposedly big heart to answer my letter. I hate you. Actually I don't even care enough to hate you. You could row to England, then walk to London, then crawl to the palace and beg me to be your friend and I wouldn't. I have a good mind to tell my husband THE FUTURE KING about this but I'm afraid he would bomb you and your stupid country bumpkin charity house.
Your ex-friend,
Princess Diana
London, England
P.S. Some people pay up to 100,000 pounds for a simple picture of me in my workout tights. Beat that!!!
November 11, 1994
Dear Supporter,
Thank you for your interest in Mother Teresa's Charities of Hope foundation. As you know the Living Saint's schedule is quite busy so we will not be able to schedule the requested meeting.
The Charities of Hope foundation provides for the basic care of thousands of indigents in the Calcutta region. We have enclosed literature concerning the good works of the Living Saint and the Charities of Hope foundation. We very much appreciate any support you can give.
God bless you,
Sisters of Charity
Charities of Hope
Calcutta, India
November 14, 1994
Dearest friend Mother Teresa,
I just got your letter and I am s0000 sorry for the terrible things I said to you in my last letter which you probably just got. I forgot how very slow the mail is in Third World regions. Please, please, please forgive me. I beg forgiveness even though friends like us don't usually have to do that, it's just understood.
I know this sounds crazy but I feel like we've known each other for years or in another lifetime or something. Like I was this beautiful Egyptian princess and you were my super great Egyptian servant/friend who I could confide in. I've enclosed a picture of myself (I'm the one standing in the carriage!). I know I look so fat but I don't care. The pale man with the big ears to my right is my husband, Prince Charles (Charles the turd I call him). Does he seem dull and devoid of any passion in the picture? He is in real life. I've had more passionate evenings with the Energizer Bunny if you know what I mean!! Normally I would be clearer with what I mean but I'm not because friends like us have an unspoken bond of understanding that means I don't have to be clear or specific.
Please send me a picture of yourself and I will put it on one of my dressers in one of the houses I use more frequently than the other ones.
Thank you in advance,
Your Dear Soulmate,
Diana
England
P.S. Sometimes I want to kill myself.
January 4, 1995
Dear Mr. Miss Mrs. Diana,
Thank you for your interest in Mother Teresa. We regret that we do not send pictures of the Living Saint to her admirers. We have enclosed literature on Mother Teresa's Charities of Hope foundation. Thank you again for your interest.
Sisters of Charity
Charities of Hope
Calcutta
ONE YEAR LATER
January 10, 1996
Hey Girlfriend,
I know it's been a week since my last letter b
ut things have been crazy here. Miss me? Anyway I'll get right to the point. Free at last, free at last. Thank God Almighty ... Free at last!!! The divorce came through days ago and I couldn't be more pleased. Well ... I'm 25 million pounds pleased at least. By the way, how many Royals does it take to screw in a lightbulb? ... Give up? ... nine!! Prince William to screw it in and the other eight to go fuck themselves.
Your guidance has meant so much to me. I couldn't have had the strength without you. I feel reborn. I've been a Lady so long I've forgotten how to be a woman ... (not counting the rugby squad I wrote about in my letters of July 17-21).
How are you? How's that thing going in India? Any new men? You're so pretty but you always play it down. I wish you'd let me make you over as I requested in my letters of May 12, 1994, August 5, 1994, and March 22, 1995. Now that I'm single again I'm not taking no for an answer. Some of my lesser girlfriends and I are discussing plans for an all-girls Mexican Fiesta in Cabo. If I'm not mistaken there's a margarita there with your name on it.
By the way you never answered my question of June 19, 1995—salt or no salt?
Missing you terribly,
Di-Di
Kensington Palace
England
P.S. What has sixteen legs, inbred genetic defects and a giant stick up its ass? Give up?! ... The Royal Family!!!!!!
August 11, 1997
Hey You,
You little scamp!! I hadn't heard from you in ages and I thought maybe you hadn't liked the matching swimsuits I had made for us ... and I was actually quite upset about it, until watching the telly one day I find out you've been in hospital. Do you think so little of me that you didn't want to burden me with your troubles? After all we've been through? Well, I've enclosed a get well card, including a bit of philosophy concerning friendship. I don't want to give it away but it's a drawing of two naked imps holding hands with the caption "Friendship is being there for the tough times." I believe this has been the credo for our relationship and have personalized the imps by hand to drive the point home. (I'm the imp with the full chest and you're the one with wrinkles.) I only hope you take this message to heart as I am quite disappointed with your lack of candor about your health. I've also included brownies in this care package. You really should be careful of the food down there. After my unfortunate run-in with an intestinal parasite off the coast of Fiji I've learned the value of hygienic food preparation.
On a more upbeat note, I've met someone!! He's rich and dashing and here's the best part ... He's a darkie!!! I think you'll agree that forbidden fruit tastes the sweetest ... and won't that burn the Queen Mother's Royal Ass!!!
Luv,
D.
P.S. Don't worry about the sex. We're being safe.
October 1, 1997
Dear Earl Charles Spencer,
We were all greatly saddened to hear of Princess Diana's untimely passing. As you begin the processes of healing and determining the Princess's final wishes, please keep in mind the Charities of Hope foundation. We know you have wisely begun a foundation in Diana's name, to continue with her good works. As you may know, our late beloved Mother Teresa and the Princess were great friends and constant correspondents. Perhaps it is fate that we continue, in their absence, the relationship they had so energetically forged. Also, to reassure you, it would be a legal write-off.
God Bless You,
Sisters of Charity
Charities of Hope
Calcutta
LOCAL NEWS
Well-Known Taco Bell Chihuahua Killed in Bar Fight
ANAHEIM (AP): Senor Jangles, the four-legged star of the Taco Bell commercials, died last night following a physical altercation at an adult entertainment establishment in Anaheim. He was forty-nine years old. Jangles, whose real name was Shaky Pete, was beloved by audiences for being a cute dog that could talk. Today, Senor Jangles was described by distraught friends as a fine actor and a good boy.
Jangles broke into acting in 1993 at the age of fourteen when a representative of the William Morris Agency discovered the talented Chihuahua talking to himself on a Los Angeles street corner. Jangles found steady commercial work soon after the fortuitous meeting, and in 1995 the chatty Chihuahua booked the role of Pepe the Mexican Ladle in the animated Disney film Oh My God, Our Appliances Can Talk! But it was Jangles's role in the Taco Bell campaign that would bring his greatest notoriety.
Jangles attained great fame and wealth through the Taco Bell campaign, but friends of the star reported he had grown despondent in recent months. Sources close to Jangles claim he began to view his commercial role as degrading and spoke often of what he perceived as Hollywood's closed-mindedness toward Latino actors. Jangles would also speak of the hypocrisy of a society that allowed him to sell food he would never be allowed to eat off the table. The tensions came to a head three weeks ago when Jangles reportedly walked off the set during the filming of a Taco Bell spot after refusing to don a sombrero and serape. Jangles's publicist refused comment but did say Jangles was suffering from hip dysplasia and had been taking prescribed painkillers at the time of the alleged work stoppage.
The alleged incident leading to Jangles's death occurred around one in the morning. Authorities say Jangles had been in the adult establishment drinking for hours and had been repeatedly warned about licking his crotch. Around midnight, James MacPherson, forty-three, entered the bar and soon thereafter became involved in an argument with the four-legged pitchman. While details of the incident are still unclear, Diamond, a dancer at the popular adult nightspot, believes MacPherson, an unemployed long-haul trucker, took offense at comments Jangles made about his tipping. Others report the brouhaha was touched off when Jangles, hackles raised, pointed at MacPherson and shouted, "Tu padre tiene mucho pelo en su pinga" (Your father has a very hairy penis). Witnesses do agree on two points. Only one punch was thrown and Senor Jangle's last words were "Ay caramba" (Oy vey).
MacPherson's lawyers denied reports that their client instigated the attack on the popular canine. They insisted that MacPherson acted only in self-defense after an enraged and inebriated Jangles ignored numerous pleas to sit and stay. Tonight MacPherson is in custody awaiting arraignment on second-degree murder charges.
"It's such a shame," said Diamond. "Mr. Jangles told me he was through with Taco Bell and was going to head to New York and Broadway—to play Rizzo in Grease. His whole body was shaking and he seemed really excited ... or cold."
Senor Jangles is survived by his mother, Pretty Peggy, 101K of San Diego. The identity of his father is unknown, and he had no children due to a childhood operation.
THE LAST SUPPER, OR THE DEAD WAITER
THE LACK OF information and interpretation concerning the life and times of Jesus Christ has, for years, frustrated scholars, theologians and lovers of information and interpretation. To date, the only notable published material on the subject is Franz Shecter's thorough yet ambiguous dissertation, "That Guy from the Thing." So little is known of Jesus because, as Shecter asserts, "He died a long time ago."
This virtual blackout has recently been lifted, in light of an astonishing discovery in the Sinai Peninsula. A German tourist in 1srael, searching for the keys to his luggage, stumbled upon an ancient city buried beneath two thousand years of desert sand and a Starbucks. A month's excavation later, this man, still wearing the same pants and shirt he originally traveled in, found what is to date the only written account pertaining to the existence of Jesus Christ. The manuscript contains explicit reference to a dinner party Jesus had with twelve male friends. It is an eyewitness account penned by Avram the Waiter, who served the Christ party at the then-popular Jerusalem eatery, Jerry's. The conventional wisdom concerning the manuscript was that it proved Shecter's Crucifixion hypothesis of a "bachelor party gone awry." Although when Schecter reread the document, this time with his glasses on, grave doubts arose. Now you can decide for yourself as the ancient memoir has finally been translated from its original Spanglish.
THE MANUSCRIPT OF "
AVRAM THE WAITER"
So much for things being slow during Passover. It was April of 33 and as usual Jerry's was jammed. Jerry's was the "in" spot of the moment. Ever since Pilate started coming here the place has been packed with gawkers and wannabes. Personally, I could care less. You're a person; I'm a person. Doesn't matter if you're Augustus or Barabbas. You treat me with respect, you get good service. Anyway, I'm at the end of an eight-hour double, slopping kishke to drunken centurions, and in walks Jesus with his flock of hangers-on. "Here comes trouble," I say to Moishe the barback. We'd all seen Jesus and his little bunch of frat boys around town and believe me, not impressed. The Greeks invented a lot of great things—namely naked wrestling—but fraternities, or any other platonic male organization for that matter, weren't one of them.
So Luke, he's the skinny one with the greasy hairoops, that's all of them—Luke says to me with a snotty attitude, "Table for thirteen ... I believe it's under Christ." So I check the book. "Well, I can't find your reservation and besides, it looks like there's only eight of you here," I say to him. I'm telling him the truth, by the way, not just being pissy. They didn't have a reservation and even if they did, I can't seat them if the whole party hasn't shown. Sorry, but it's not my rule. "They're coming. They'll be here. They got a little hung up. Holiday traffic," Luke says. You're kidding! Hung up in traffic? Well, that changes everything ... please. Anyway, the guy's just checking out the scene, not even looking me in the eye. So all I say is, and Moishe will back me up on this, "You're welcome to hang out in the bar and wait for them ... But I'm afraid—" and boom, he's on me. "Wait in the bar? You want us to wait in the bar. We're not waiting in the bar, little man." The way he Was carrying on you'd have thought I asked him to bathe. (P.S. If Jesus is right and there is an afterlife, I hope they've got soap.)
