So, like the rest of the country, we here at Jewcy HQ have been following the huge moral dilemma that is Conan O'Brien vs Jay Leno (our office is Team Conan, as if there were any doubt). However, we couldn't declare a victor without the most hated figure of the 20th century weighing in. That's right, ladies and gents, Adolf Hitler has officially come down on one side of the debate. Watch and learn:

 

Every single author featured in this Simon & Schuster Halloween promotional video, save one, is a Jew!

Check out Halloween stories from Susie Essman, Michael Ian Black, Ivanka Trump, George Wendt, and a very nice-seeming lady named Kathy Reichs.

 

 

Stuff (Young) Jewish People Like

-Not believing in G_d

-Liberal politics

-Ethnic food, especially of the Asian persuasion (Chinese, sushi, Indian)

-Acoustic guitar

-Any event that includes the terms "young", "single" and "professionals"

-Camp (but not camping)

-Charities that benefit marginalized people other than Jews

-For men: having sex with gentile girls

-For women: complaining about the lack of Jewish guys to date

-Emulating black people and hip hop culture

-Fearing that there will not be enough food (AKA Jewish Food Panic)

-Marijuana...and lots of it

-Self-hatred...and lots of it

-Careers in "helping" professions (education, non-profit, medicine)

-Jewish geography a la "where did you go to school", "where did your family daven"

And finally, Jewish people LOVE being Jewish...and that's the best thing we have going for ourselves.

Jews are big fans of organizations. Friends of IDF, Hillel, Limmud, Birthright Israel, ADF, JCCs and much much more! And don't forget about synagogues. In my hometown of Atlanta, there are eight Orthodox synagogues. Eight! And that doesn't include all the Chabad houses, either. How they fill the seats is news to me, since the Deep South isn't exactly Crown Heights.

And since I've spent most of my life in the South, I've learned an awful lot about Evangelical Christians. One thing I know for sure: these people LOVE us. And we need to take advantage of that, using our lust for 501(c)3s.

Since I'm a huge fan of lists (see my posts on Jewish technology and the flavors of Jewish practice as proof), here is my Top-Five-Favorite-Christian-Inspired-Jewish-Organizations-That-Don't-Exist-Yet.

Jews For Jesus Money: In case you weren't aware, Evangelical Christians believe that Israel is the key to Jesus coming back...and throwing us in the Lake of Fire. Never mind our tragic end; Christians are super excited about us blowing up Palestinian houses and getting all us Red Sea Pedestrians to go back to our spiritual home. And to that end, the faithful are donating millions to Christian Zionist organizations. We need a think tank that can come up with more ways to swindle the Faithful to give us their tithing check.

Birthright Holy Land Experience: Let's face it, Israel is no picnic. Luckily we have the Holy Land Experience in Orlando, Florida, brought to you by Trinity Broadcasting Network. Recreating Israel circa 30 CE, the Holy Land Experience is a Disney-version of Israel during the life (and mostly death) of Jesus. Here you can eat an authentic Israeli double cheeseburger while an ex-biker portraying Jesus gets slaughtered by teenagers in Roman Centurion costumes from Walmart. I ask you: would you rather fly thousands of miles to the middle-of-no-where desert and get bombed by terrorists, or would you like to go to sunny Florida? I pick Florida, for its awesome oranges, Mickey Mouse and alligator farms. Besides, there's nothing more Jewish than a trip to Florida to see your grandparents!

Kinky Friedman Museum of Jewish Texas History: Shalom, ya little doggies! Of course there were Jews in the Wild West! Levi Strauss wasn't exactly a common name out-on-the-range, unless of course your range happen to be owned by a guy named Chiam Horowitz. Kinky Friedman, as our most famous Texan MOT, deserves a museum to Jewish Texas. You may wonder, how is this in any way related to Christians? It's obvious if you listen to any country radio station: Jesus loves pickup trucks and yer mamma. And since Kinky and the Texas Jew Boys had a hit with "They Don't Make Jews Like Jesus Anymore" it's all the more fitting he would make my humble list.

Shammai: Hillel isn't just a college thing. He was an actual person: a great Jewish scholar and sage. But he had an opponent named Shammai who played a huge part in the making of the Mishnah. Poor Shammai lost the pre-modern Jewish Popularity Contest, and that's why your dorky student union was called Hillel. Inspired by the Christian idea of being a total dick-head Contrarian when everyone wants to let loose and have a good time, it only seems fair that Shammai have his own organization, dedicated to making Hillel students feel like shit. This group would be in charge of going to Hillel functions and making sure that men and women aren't sitting too close to each other, that the overcooked cheese pizza doesn't have any microscopic bacon pieces secretly tucked inside the crust and that only Jewish music predating the 8-track is played, lest we actually turn Judaism into something entertaining and relevant to modern life.

Oyes For Goys: Young Jewish guys love two things: hip hop and screwing non-Jewish girls. The permissive morals of hip hop and our already lax attitudes on pre-marital sex lead to an interesting cultural problem; Jewish guys are knocking up their goy girlfriends. Christians work this out by pushing the whole abstinence thing, but since Jews are a little less stuffy in their bedroom manner, we're stuck with the issue of what to do with these preggo Protestants. The best solution comes from the website marryyourbabydaddy.com, a site that gets primarily black men and women who currently co-habitate (with kids) to tie-the-knot. Oyes For Goys would do the same thing: rabbis would drive around in a large van carrying a chuppah searching out MOTs who love Akon a little too much.  Once spotted, ketubahs would fly everywhere and glass will be broken. Mazel tov, your kid ain't a bastard no more!

At a glance, there really aren't that many "movements" in Judaism. Orthodox, reform, reconstructionist and conservative. That's pretty much it. Sure, there are some variations on this, but compared to the Christian world, Jews like to keep it simple.

Or do we?

I decided to jump into the proverbial rabbit-hole of Jewish Denominationalism and discovered that there are more ways of being Jewish than there ever have been before.

Secular-As-Balls:

You still don't understand WHY Jews believe in G-d. Frankly, you think the whole "G-d Thing" is irrelevant. There's nothing about being Jewish that requires religion, customs, beliefs, worship, a love for Israel or the Jewish People. But if anyone DARES to slam the Jewish People or pretend that the Holocaust didn't happen, you'll be the first to kick their ass. It's like being an older brother: you can torture your siblings all you want to. But the minute some other kid tries to pick on your kid brother/sister, you're going to pound them into the ground. You express your faith (or lack thereof) by reading Heeb Magazine and going to the opening of the new Jewish Museum in your neighborhood. Just try to avoid the rabbi at all costs!

See: anyone on the Tattoo Jew Facebook Group

Hippiedox:

The product of Orthodox or immigrant parents, you voted for Obama because he's cool like the new iPhone. Your tone of voice moves between stoner and yiddishkeit, and your love for Matisyahu at times rivals the Lubavitcher Rebbe. You're more comfortable at Whole Foods than you are around your conservative in-laws, but you still feel a sense of sadness when a non-kosher restaurant opens near your shul. Kabbalah is your favorite pastime, because it's like being on a permanent acid trip.

See: Shemspeed, FrumSatire and "that guy" on the Birthright Israel trip.

 

Chabad-Could-It-Be: Thanks to Chabad's supply chain of eager rabbis, your small town of approximately ten Jews just got an Orthodox shul. Too bad for you that you have a shaved head, love bacon and still don't know what a mezzuzah is. But because you feel a cultural connection to Judaism, you decide to start attending services. You really hate the religio-political attitude of Chabadniks, but because this movement offers you the "real" Judaism that you cannot muster for yourself, you keep going back as an atonement for all the Friday nights you spent playing X-Box instead of reading the Good Book.

See: any Jew living west of the Mississippi river and east of Phoenix, Arizona.

 

Trans(gender) Denominational: You're an activist within Judaism. You want to reform (no pun intended) every corner of the Jewish World. Your obsession with Tikkun Olam really has nothing to do repairing the world as a whole, but instead concentrating on key issues within Judaism. Such examples include gay/lesbian rights, trans-inclusion, gender feminism, environmentalism and animal rights. You can't settle on one shul because they just don't address your "issues". Like a serial monogamist, you fall in love with one synagogue/rabbi and work the hell out of it until there is nothing left, then move onto another hot affair.

See: Union For Progressive Judaism, Barney Frank, and Kosherveg.com.

 

PolitiKosher: You love Israel. In fact, you're IN LOVE with Israel. There's something about the desert, the ruins, the graffiti and the bombs that just gives you this tingling feeling in your stomach. You think the Palestinians are secretly plotting your death and that if Netanyahu could just get his act together, the Messiah will surely come. Hopefully that person is you. Just in case, you've got your passport and a duffle bag filled with tallit ready to go.

See: Friends of the IDF, the Libi Fund and anyone wearing an "I Love The IDF" T-shirt.

 

Deconstructionist Judaism: Innovation is the tradition of the Jewish faith, and you are its greatest champion. You believe that G-d has a great sense of humor and personally marvels at your creative thinking skills. You pioneered such moments in Judaism as the chocolate seder, dog and cat bar mitzvahs, and menorahs hacked together from leftover Ikea stuff. You express your Judaism by taking Jewish ideas and making them better.

See: Moderntribe.com, Rabbi Laura Baum, Mel Brooks.

Many religions approach their movements like a ladder: the higher up you climb, the more "authentic" your faith. And generally speaking, the more conservative practice is usually what you're striving for. Judaism has a motto of horizontally-intergrated faith. A belief that Judaism is not a climb to the top, but rather a continuum that you place yourself on. More liberal? Slide to the left! More Orthodox, then move to the right.

Judaism, for me, is more like a spider web. A spider web starts by having a few pillars to hold it together. From these platforms, the spider is able to weave its web to the center. The purpose: to catch what the spider needs in order to survive. If one of the pillars that the web is connected to simply cannot hold the web, then the creative little spider finds a new anchor. If someone breaks the web from the inside, then the spider repairs it, differently than it was originally created. Still, the web stays intact. And every spider web is different, just like everyone's Judaism.

I'm currently exploring several exciting film opportunities for my second memoir Moose, opportunities that extend beyond my book trailer (which I'll admit, was fun to make. And woo hoo to over 200,000 views on YouTube).  See the video below this post.

The trick with a coming-of-age book like Moose is finding a balance between a screenplay aimed at child actors and bringing in a "name" to play the adult version of a character. While I figure out what my exact vision is for the book, I've been working with ABC Studios and Brillstein Entertainment Partners (Formerly Brillstein-Grey), writing the pilot for a half-hour comedy series based off my first memoir Straight Up And Dirty, and I'm not going to lie to you: blog writing isn't book writing, which isn't TV writing.

At first I thought the only real difference came down to dialogue.  Hey, I'm awesome at dialogue, this'll be cake. Yeah, burnt, eneven cake where you keep taking bites to figure out which ingredient you forgot. I know from writing books that there needs to be a clear structure: a beginning, middle, and end, an arc toward self-discovery and realizations. Great, so I’ll start with what I want the main character to realize in the end and simply work backwards. Sounds like a plan. Only now, let me break it all apart into a four-act structure, and learn to live without a plan.

Despite the fact that my blog, my two memoirs, and now a TV series based off my life are all about me, the actual writing and process of writing for each medium is different. Very different.

Book writing can be a whole lot of internal conflicts. Take for example, just a quick summary from my first memoir Straight Up And Dirty: My life’s forecast never included becoming a woman with a wasband.  I expected some schooling, a career, and a family, not divorce, especially not before I hit 30.  Before I “settled down,” I played it up, dating with a vengeance.  I was a single woman in a sensational city. And, I didn’t do Cosmos; I liked mine dirty.  Until, I found a clean, genteel, mensch-next-door whose idea of keeping house was sweeping… me off my feet.  Then, suddenly, it all looked different; “single” became tired.  How many cleavage-baring black tops, “How could you think I’d be interested in him?” blind dates, and kisses with frogs can a girl tolerate before she’s ready for a prince?  Marriage fit me like a glove and my husband like a noose.  Mrs. Robinson didn’t just rob the cradle; she stole away with my rattle, bouncer seat, and designer diaper bag.  And, just like that: divorced while you’re firm, fashionable, and, let’s face it, fetching. 

Nothing above is actually salvagable when it comes to script writing. It's all exposition. TV Writing is all about showing external conflicts, seeing scenes, putting characters in situations that force their internal conflicts up and out of them. The key is giving your characters immediate wants other than internal hopes and struggles, more than deciding between right and wrong. Deciding whether or not to go to wedding with a date, hating her job, not being over an ex, not knowing what to do for a living, not knowing whether or not to change her name, figuring out how to love herself--all internal struggles that might make for an interesting character, but they don't help when you need to create a story for TV.  Instead, it's all about creating external conflict. It's plot based, and it's an entirely different skill. One I'm learning as I go. And just like anything written well, you can snatch up a stack of pilot scripts and think, well, who can't do that? That's so easy. Of course it is, and it isn't. It just depends on the day.

Stephanie Klein, author of Moose: A Memoir of Fat Camp, spent the past week guest blogging on Jewcy. This is her parting post. Want more? Buy the book!

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I am sitting in a random kosher pizza shop in Brooklyn. I am sitting here, eyebrows furrowed, pissed off at the racket we know as the kosher pizza shop cartel. Three dollars for a slice of pizza. The quality of this one-side-of-a-grilled-cheese-plus-blood-sauce-sandwich hasn't risen in tandem with its escalating price; how can it? My plan to bankrupt the place by loading up on staples from the tables (oregano or crushed red pepper) are hardly shifting the imbalanced weights of the joint's crooked restaurateur. To add insult to injury, there are three little kids staring at me, pointing, as if I am some sort of oddity, some sort of alien dropped from sky, weirdly landing in Brooklyn at a kosher pizza shop.

If I only knew Yiddish, I could tell them to fuck off - nicely of course, they are little kids after all. Maybe I could get fancy and ask them their names and then explain to them that beyond their little world of Williamsburg or Borough Park there lives a whole species of people like me - and guess what, we are just as Jewish as them. But my Yiddish is so poor I can only pretend that I understand what they are saying as they twirl their side locks while pointing at me as they continue to talk in derisive tones about me right in front of my face.

My friend calls the reprehensible gaze of these children "the Borough Park Stare." He used to refer to it as getting the 'BeePS', as if it were some club term. It wasn't, it was merely an annoyance that all people, both Jewish and non-Jewish, get from little Chassidic kids.

My father loves to mess with little Chassidic children in part because it allows him to let his Yiddish (which he loves so much) roll out in spades. I think it scares the shit out of them when some guy in flannel shirt, blue jeans and a baseball cap starts talking in Yiddish to them. So my pop related a story that happened to him in New Square - a sheltered village, a real life modern day Chassidic shtetl - many years ago. He was walking along one of the town's artificially quaint streets and these two kids started debating in Yiddish whether or not this strange humanoid was Jewish. Mind you, he was wearing a yarmulke. Finally my father got so frustrated with their stares that he told them in Yiddish that he was in fact a Jew, simultaneously illustrating this fact by reaching into his fly and pulling out his tzitzit.

Joyce Antler, author of You Never Call! You Never Write! spent the past week guest-blogging on Jewcy.  She began with a discussion of the Women's Rights movement, talked about Jewish mothers' crucial role in changing the world, pondered a post-mortem face-off between Sarah Palin and Sarah Silverman, wrote about her daughter's wedding, and shared anecdotes exposing the Jewish mother's humorous tendencies.  Craving more?  Buy the book!

Ben Stiller and Rob Reiner's fathers got together with the DeVito-Pearlman union and produced a series of commercials in support of Barack Obama. Despite the collective's comedy pedigree, the shorts are not humorous. As Reiner the Elder states in one of the ads, "There is time for funny and time for serious, and right now is time for serious." View the videos below:

 

For that half of the country for whom eviscerating Palin has become a recreational obsession, a wake-up call is needed: political humor has tipped into completely classless tribal behavior. Following in the daily example set by Keith Olberman's relentless political tirades, a Park Slope hair salon hosted a Democratic fundraising event entitled "Updos for Obama," in which women made donations in exchange for Palin-style haircuts.

The women of Park Slope gather to be catty en masse

"When you look at what it is to be a feminist in today's culture and specifically in New York, her nomination can be such a betrayal," said one woman at the Park Slope event.

Betrayal? Really? Why? Because her views differ from those of the catty liberals of Park Slope? These women aren't responding to Sarah Palin, they are reacting against the caricature of Sarah Palin they see on TV.

The necessity of political satire to check the power public figures hold over our celebrity-obsessed polity is not in question. But we've reached a point in which we've transcended satire and degenerated into an uncivilized atmosphere where any kind of dialogue is impossible.

Yes, Palin is an attractive woman. Yes, it appears that she is completely nuts (the creationism, the retarded kid, etc). And yes, she is a Republican. But seeing Palin's nomination as a betrayal to feminist values is just as shitty as referring to Barack Obama an 'Uncle Tom' because he doesn't roll with 50 and sell weed.

So take a look at yourselves in the mirror, women of Park Slope; you may also notice that your new 'do looks great, just like Sarah Palin.

For a while, with the Bush era coming to an end, it looked like the US would face a severe comedy crunch, a boom and bust of punchlines and impersonations. With the termination of Dubya's second term looming, cartoonists, sketchwriters, talk-show hosts and stand-up acts were losing their sense of purpose. The exit of the stoopid, monkey-faced commander-in-chief posed a long-term threat to gag writers' careers.

The real Sarah Palin observes her likeness on SNL (NY Times)

Enter Sarah Palin, the Republican vice-presidential candidate. A moose-hunting anti-abortionist whose unmarried daughter got pregnant at 17. A ‘hockey mom' who only applied for a passport last year, aged 43. A former beauty queen and a smalltown Alaskan who says things like ‘You betcha' and ‘I'll tell ya'.

Pure comedy gold.

As actress Tina Fey's recent impersonations of Palin on the comedy sketch show Saturday Night Live (SNL) have shown, poking fun at gun-toting, smalltown-minded, redneck Republicans has not fallen out of favour. Fey, of 30 Rock fame, has become an international household name as a result of her Palin skits, and SNL has achieved its highest ratings in 14 years.

In fact, Fey's impersonations of Palin may now be better known than Palin's own media appearances. True, it was Palin herself who, at the Republican National Convention, famously confessed that she is a regular ‘hockey mom', comparing herself to a ‘pitbull with lipstick'. And it was the real Palin who said that the proximity of Alaska (where she is governor) to Russia shows that she has ‘foreign policy experience'.

The lines ‘I can see Russia from my house' and ‘I am looking forward to a portion of your questions' are equally well known now - but they were spoken by Tina Fey spoofing Palin. Fey's impersonations have become bigger news than the real campaign. On this side of the Atlantic, Fey made it on to the front pages of both the Independent and the Guardian, who called her ‘the real star of the US election'.

Tina Fey and Sarah Palin on SNL

Last Saturday, the Fey-as-Palin mania reached a climax as Palin herself appeared on SNL alongside Fey. In the skit, as her mimic addressed a mock press conference, Palin watched from backstage, together with SNL executive producer Lorne Michaels. Actor Alec Baldwin joined them, apparently mistaking the real Palin for Fey, and proceeded to scold Michaels for letting Fey join ‘that horrible woman' onstage. ‘She goes against everything we stand for!' he exclaimed. Michaels awkwardly pointed out that the woman next to them was, in fact, that ‘horrible woman', Governor Palin, and Baldwin mumbled an apology.

SNL has come under fire for giving Palin a spot on its programme. Some argued that it gave her unnecessary, and possibly positive, media exposure. Baldwin retorted: "If you think an appearance on SNL would sway voters... you may have more contempt for the electorate of this country than the Republican National Committee does. And that's a lot of contempt."

Fair enough. Yet the idea that Palin stands against everything we stand for, as Baldwin put it - that's ‘we' as in the smug SNL world - also expresses a sense of contempt. Sure, Baldwin's comment on SNL was a joke. But the joke worked because it reflected a very real attitude, namely that the media-savvy, big-city, sophisticated Democrats (‘we') are frightened that gun-loving Joe-shmos (‘they') might actually choose to exercise their democratic right to vote on 4 November and put a cross next to Palin's name.

Post-Bush, bashing Palin has become a cheap way for apparently erudite celebrities and commentators to distance themselves from redneck America. For what informs the outbreak of comedic attacks on Palin is a not-so-funny snobbery towards small towns and religious people, and fear that America might lose its moral authority to boss around dodgy foreign regimes.

Matt Damon talks about Sarah Palin

In an interview on CBS soon after John McCain announced Palin as his running mate, actor Matt Damon said the prospect of her possibly becoming president was a ‘really scary thing' - even though he admitted, in the next breath, that "I don't know anything about her. I know she was mayor of a really, really small town and she was governor of Alaska for less than two years," he said.

For Damon, all we need to know is that America could be a heartbeat away (if McCain croaks) from being ruled by someone from a really small town who has the audacity to go to Washington and - even worse - think she can tell big-city folk like Damon what to do. On Palin's alleged creationist beliefs, Damon went on: "I need to know if she thinks dinosaurs were here 4,000 years go. I really want to know because she's gonna have the nuclear codes."

This is an updated version of one of the key arguments deployed against Reagan: that he was a dumb, overly Christian former actor who might plummet the world into nuclear meltdown on a whim. But perhaps Damon can tell us if he really believes polar bears and penguins are dying out because of global warming, and if he really thinks that representing the planet as a naked woman is a progressive view of the female sex. Because these trendy visions of climate chaos being visited upon Mother Earth appeared in a recent nature documentary narrated by Damon. Plenty of Prius-driving celebrity environmentalists who slam creationists for their backward views - from Damon to Leonardo DiCaprio and Brad Pitt - preach their own secular version of Kingdom Come. They tell us that we must repent for our sins against Nature or else we will be visited by floods and pestilence. Yet while they pray for Al Gore to deliver us from evil and bring salvation to those who join his ‘genuine moral and spiritual challenge,' they see Palin as a backward Bible-basher.

Palin's lack of foreign-policy experience, and her talk of how close Alaska is to Russia, is another joke that keeps on running. In a particularly funny sequence on SNL, Fey-as-Palin said that Alaskans "Keep an eye on" their Russian neighbors: "Every morning, when Alaskans wake up, one of the first things they do is look outside to see if there are any Russians hanging around. And if there are, you gotta go up to them and ask, 'What are you doing here?' And if they can't give you a good reason, it's our responsibility to say, you know, 'Shoo! Get back over there!'"

 

The SNL spoof of Katie Couric's Palin interview

Yet some seem to believe that this really is how Palin plans to deal with foreigners. The prospect of Palin as president is, according to Damon, "like a really bad Disney movie -- a hockey mom facing down Putin'. A Facebook group called 'I have more foreign policy experience than Sarah Palin' has attracted over 240,000 members.

However, when it comes to Disneyfying foreign policy, no one - not even Palin - can beat celebrities themselves. Celebs are forever turning complex international conflicts into simplistic morality tales of good guys v bad guys, with America and the ‘international community' as the knights in shining armour who must rescue the destitute.

Along with stars like George Clooney (who once said of the conflict in Darfur: ‘It's not a political issue. There's only right and wrong'), East Coast celebrities like Damon and Mia Farrow have displayed a gung-ho attitude that would make even Palin blush. Their ‘Save Darfur' campaign recently parked a black military helicopter on Second Avenue in New York with a banner saying ‘Send me to Darfur'. Farrow has reportedly been in talks with Blackwater, the private military firm that caused so much destruction in Iraq, about sending men to Darfur. Indeed, Damon's central concern about Palin - that she is too flimsy a politician to face down the likes of Putin - shows what lies behind Palin-bashing over foreign policy: the notion that she isn't experienced enough to deal with those dodgy Russians, murderous Africans and other lunatics on the world stage.

Of course, it's not surprising that comedians have jumped on Palin - she hands it to them on a plate, with a folksy wink and a side serving of cheesy one-liners. She's easy to imitate and easy to mock. But mocking Republicans is hardly risqué or controversial after eight years of Bush. A real challenge would be to take the piss out of Barack Obama.

Yet when The New Yorker magazine recently tried to mix Obama with satire on its front page - with a cartoon showing the Democratic presidential hopeful and his wife as fist-bumping bin Laden-worshippers in the Oval Office - it was greeted with outrage and disgust from Democrats and Republicans alike. Obama has been untouchable in the largely white world of American late-night comedy. When Daily Show host Jon Stewart quipped about Obama changing his position on campaign financing during his leadership race against Hillary Clinton, the audience didn't appreciate the joke. ‘You know, you're allowed to laugh at him', Stewart said. He later told the New York Times: "People have a tendency to react as far as their ideology allows them." For now, Obama, it seems, is untouchable. As Mike Sweeney, head writer for Conan O'Brien on Late Night, said in July: "We're hoping he picks an idiot as vice president."

Well, Biden is no Palin. But at least the Alaskan hockey mom has bought American comedians some time and given the East Coast and Hollywood celebrity set a renewed sense of purpose, someone to direct their anger at. In the process, they have provided some laughs, while exposing what lies behind cheap and easy Palin-bashing: hostility towards smalltown people, a desire to protect American prestige in humanitarian military affairs, and a blind fear of making any jokes about the main man: Obama.

"My aunt was a nun, which makes Jesus my uncle! That's church doctrine -- I'm not making that up. She was the bride of Christ. She's my aunt. He's my uncle. I only mention that in Jerusalem for parking! It doesn't get me far, but at the Scottish church, I park like that. I just pull in and say, "I'm the nephew. Please!"

Comedian Yisrael Campbell, formerly known as Chris Campbell, had the audience at the National Jewish Outreach Program benefit in Manhattan roaring in their seats last month. Born and raised in suburban Philadelphia to an Irish-Catholic father and an Italian-Catholic mother, the 45-year-old Jerusalem resident described his journey to Judaism through his comedic monologue, "It's Not in Heaven."Yisrael Campbell: nephew of JC in action (photo by Neal Feinberg)

After struggling with substance abuse at age 16, Campbell’s search for "a higher power" led him to Judaism. At his Reform conversion in suburban Los Angeles in 1994, he was asked, "Do you throw your lot in with the Jewish people?" Here’s how he describes his thought process: “My name was Chris Campbell. I didn't have payos. I didn't have a beard. I didn't wear a hat or a kipah. I didn't wear black and blue [the blue shirt he chooses to wear instead of the traditional white one]. You look like that, your name is Chris Campbell, when they come for the Jews, you say, "They went that way!"

Campbell's ex-wife is Egyptian and was raised Muslim. She took the course on basic Judaism at a Reform temple before she married him.

Fast forward to a Conservative conversion, followed by his growing interest in Orthodoxy. "The Orthodox rabbi said, 'You're going to have to do everything all over again.' And I say, 'I'll do a third circumcision, but three circumcisions is not a religious covenant. It's a fetish!"

Before he changed his name, El Al airline personnel asked Chris Campbell (who looked like he does in the photos) why he converted to Judaism. "They think I just forgot to switch the passport!" he quipped. "El Al is not interested in putting people on airplanes that are struggling to have a relationship with God. They don't even like vegetarian-meal requests!"

He told me that his target audience is "anyone that has ever been on a spiritual search or endeavored to better understand issues of identity." Campbell performs with the Palestinian-Israeli Comedy Troupe. He has done a gig for Trinity College in Dublin.

Campbell's plans to move to New York for a year, beginning late summer or early fall, with hopes of doing an off-Broadway run. His American-born wife, who grew up Modern Orthodox, and whom he met when she was his Talmud teacher in Jerusalem, is considering pursuing a Masters degree at the Jewish Theological Seminary. Of course, their three kids will also join them. Their last name is Campbell-Hochstein, but professionally he sticks with his original name.Three Conversions and One Pair of Shades Later: photo by Neal Feinberg

The 2007 documentary about him, "Circumcise Me!", will be next be seen at the Dallas Jewish Film Festival in September and the East Valley Jewish Film Festival in Arizona in February.

It's not often one hears the innermost thoughts of a convert, both pre- and post-conversion. After all, one isn't supposed to ask the convert about it and make him feel uncomfortable -- he's now a member of the tribe.

Asked why he dressed in the long, black bekeshah/kapata the comedian replied, "I don't really have a good reason. I like the way I look and it's the way I dress on Shabbos and on Yom Tov”—he pronounced it the old-fashioned Yiddish way, Yon Tif—“so I don't feel like it's a costume I put on to do the show. It's not how I dress every day, but I dress enough that way. But the kind of line I've come up is: 'My Conservative conversion upsets the Reform. The Orthodox conversion upsets the Conservative. And the only way I have to upset the Orthodox is to dress haredi!' "

From: Ben Karlin
To: Elizabeth Wurtzel

I’m not sure you are going to get your handbag this way. Go for it! Just put it out there that you want one. Why beat around the bush?

Everything I want is vague and ill-defined. That goes for life goals too. I have no ability whatsoever to look into the future and conjure a picture of what my life will be – or even what I want it to be. Please read this in as un-angsty voice as possible. It does not make me nervous. Just a bitch to shop for.

I am working on a bunch of crap for HBO. Though that is not how I pitched it to them. I presented it in a manner that would make them think it is going to be quite good. I am writing a pilot about the world’s 237th richest man. We have another show, written by someone else, about a UFO alien death cult set in northern Wisconsin, and a third, loosely based on my book, which is a comedy-variety show built around the theme of failed relationships. As much as I loved working on a daily show, there is something about the promise and possibility of developing multiple ideas that thrills me more. Like, even though I ground myself down to a nub running multiple shows, the idea of having multiple shows is still thrilling. This inability to learn from past experience could be labeled either “boundless enthusiasm” or “fatal flaw.”

I really don’t want to get into a New York neighborhood apologia. In the 9 years I have been here I have lived in the West Village, Hell’s Kitchen, Greenpoint, Greenwich Village proper, off the Bowery in Noho, Clinton Hill and Fort Greene. What does that say about me other than settle the fuck down? There were things I loved about each place, though I loved Hell’s Kitchen least. Right now, I do live in Brooklyn, ambivalently. Don’t hate me for it. Hate me for a number of other reasons, which I would be more than happy to elucidate herein.

I am not now, nor have I ever been a birkenstock wearer. Here, however, for the purposes of partial disclosure, are some things I have worn or done that embarrass me in retrospect, though I stop short of regret:

1. Wore an earring briefly in high school, and again in college
   
2. Goatee for about a week, also in college
   
3. Wore a bandana in that hippee-helmet kind of way, though at a summer camp, which makes it slightly less obnoxious.
   
4. Frequently wore white tube socks with sneakers and shorts while not engaging in athletic activity
   
5. Killed a man just to watch him die

One of those things actually does not embarrass me.

Next: What the memoirist and the comedy writer have in common

Kids, stay back: MazoPhil Mazo’s upcoming comedy-album debut, Pervert, drops April 1. Listen as Mazo, a vaguely creepy comic from Jersey, riffs on the "I'm less Jewy than you are" J-Date courtship ritual.

 

 

Ever wondered what the fate of America's knocked-up sweetheart, Juno MacGuff, would have been were she born to liberal New York Jews? Look no further than the "preview" for Jewno, the 92nd Street Y Tribeca's tribute to the Oscar-winning quip-a-thon. Our heroine is reimagined as a Semitic America Ferrera lookalike with a "knish in the oven" and her very own bagel phone. Look for the cameo from Mac MacGuff himself (J.K. Simmons) as "Jewbell's" super-Heeby dad.

Too bad number 18 was already takenToday comedian Billy Crystal fulfilled the fantasy of every short, aging Jewish male in America -- he played baseball before a sold-out stadium during spring training. The Yankees signed Crystal to a two-day contract to celebrate the long time fan's 60th birthday. He joins the ranks of Jewish baseball greats like Shawn Green, Sandy Koufax and Hank Greenberg. "I’m the D.H. — designated Hebrew," Crystal commented in the Times. “It doesn’t matter. I’m so jazzed. It’s the greatest thrill ever.”

Ronna and Beverly are loud, opinionated, and wear too much lipstick. Watch as they harass an innocent bookstore employee while publicizing their new book for Jewish singles, "You'll Do a Little Better Next Time." Yes, these yentas are fictional (yet eerily reminiscent of my mom's friends), and if you love them as much as I do, there are many more chapters in the Ronna and Beverly saga to enjoy. Here is one of the best.

 

 

 

Like Wham! only less British: Good For the JewsFourteen shows and fifteen sets in thirteen cities over eighteen nights. That's the exciting way I'll be spending Hanukkah and Christmas, on tour with my band, Good For The Jews. All thirteen cities have been carefully chosen for their large populations of Jews. Even, in the case of Boca Raton, if those populations are mostly close to death.

By the way, "band" is a grandiose phrase to use here. Good For The Jews is me, Rob Tannenbaum, and David Fagin. We both sing, David plays guitar. (I tried to learn once; I didn't care for the calluses.) I do the P.R., David books the travel; I keep track of the merchandise, David drives. He wears driving gloves in the car and usually drives too fast. When we planned the tour, we budgeted for five speeding tickets.

We are, however, proudly, the greatest Jewish music-comedy duo in the land. For a long time, it was difficult to explain what we do onstage. "You sing? But you also tell jokes?" Yes. So we'd describe ourselves as a cross between Simon & Garfunkel and Martin & Lewis. BLANK STARES. Then we'd say we were like Tenacious D, but thinner and without a movie deal. BLANK STARES. Now, we just say we're like Flight Of The Conchords, but without the cute accents or the HBO deal.

We have songs about the holidays ("It's Good To Be A Jew At Christmas," "They Tried To Kill Us, We Survived, Let's Eat"), songs about visiting the parents ("Going Down To Boca"), songs about being Bar Mitzvahed ("Today I Am A Man"), songs about people we like ("Hot Jewish Chicks") and also people we don't like ("Jews For Jesus").

This tour, these thirteen cities in eighteen days: Okay, it's not Sherman's March to the Sea (which transpired at roughly the same time of year, though Savannah has a nicer climate in December than Milwaukee does), or Stalin's winter offensive (no one will be firing Panzerfausts at us, not even in Milwaukee). But that's a lot of rental cars, a lot of airline connections, many opportunities for things to go wrong. We play L.A. on December 14th (our agent, Morey, says there are many Jews in L.A.), then the next morning we fly to Denver for a show on the 15th. Think there might be some snow on the ground in Colorado, delaying our flight? The risk with rock tours isn't that they turn into This Is Spinal Tap—that would be great. The risk is that they turn into Planes, Trains and Automobiles.

Mosh your pants off: Hanukkah is one of the dancier Jewish holidays Mentioning Spinal Tap reminds me of the scene where Harry Shearer shouts "Hello, Cleveland!" while the band is in Chicago. Funny, because it's true. (Though not as funny as when Tony Hendra, the band's manager, says, "Do you know what I do? I prise the rent out of the local Hebrews." Also true.) We can't be the 800th band to shout "Hello, Cleveland" when the tour starts there on Thursday night. What are the alternatives? "Shalom, Cleveland"? "Hello, Shaker Heights"?

I've got a little O.C.D., so packing for the tour has taken a lot of time: eighteen pairs of boxers, eighteen pairs of socks, some road flares, a tourniquet, warm gloves, a mosquito net, Purell, Iodine tablets, a rectal thermometer, some Mebendazole. Touring means meeting people, and meeting people means germs. Taking $20 bills from them when they gratefully buy your CD. Shaking their hands when they thank you for an amazing 80 minutes of entertainment. Deep-kissing them while they complain about their lousy experiences on J-Date. And germs, of course, mean influenza, which can really spoil a tour.

I realize how many home comforts I'm leaving behind. I'll miss my wi-fi connectivity. I'll miss having the Times delivered every morning. I'll miss my memory foam mattress and contoured pillow. I'll miss my Toto Washlet C100. I'll miss my warm-mist humidifier, which doesn't fit into my carry-on luggage. Life on tour can be very unsatisfying, as anyone who's listened to an Allman Brothers song already knows.

As I await my car service to LaGuardia, I have in mind the words of Leonard Cohen, who said that Jews are "the professionals in suffering." He also wrote these lines: "Is there anything emptier / than the drawer where/ you used to store your opium?" I'm hoping for more opium, less suffering.

List of Tour Dates 12/06, Beachland Ballroom, Cleveland OH 12/08, Miramar Theatre, Milwaukee WI 12/09, Double Door, Chicago IL 12/10, Triple Door, Seattle WA 12/11, Doug Fir Lounge, Portland OR 12/12, Great American Music Hall, San Francisco CA 12/14, Knitting Factory, Los Angeles CA 12/15, Soiled Dove, Denver CO 12/17, The Social, Orlando FL 12/18, New York Comedy Club, Boca Raton, FL 12/20, Recher Theatre, Baltimore MD 12/21, Birchmere Theatre, Washington DC 12/22, Birchmere Theatre 12/23, Highline Ballroom, New York NY

 

[Read the entire Good for the Jews Tour Diary here.]

A new movie showcases the Heras of Jewish comedy:

To remember and to honor the contributions of six famed Jewish women comedians was the goal of the Jewish Women’s Archive, based in Brookline, Mass., in creating their documentary, Making Trouble. The film grew our of plans to host a gala celebration, “So Laugh A Little, An Evening of Jewish Women’s Comedy,” in New York City in March 2005. Contemporary comics Judy Gold and Jackie Hoffman performed at the show and their work, combined with archival footage, got the Archive staff thinking. “We thought, ‘there’s a history here and a tradition that they belong to,” says Gail Reimer, one of the Archive’s founders and its current executive director. “Something had to be done with the material. It was too good. So we decided we should make a film.” Of course the Archive had never taken on such a project, but no matter. The idea perfectly reflected the organization’s mission to research, preserve, and transmit the history of Jewish women.

She's NOT biting the apple ... see? Eve got nothin' on me, bitch!I didn't mean to write pages 170-172 of Wendy Shalit's new book, Girls Gone Mild. It was an accident.

I have never been "mild" in my life. I get paid to tell dirty jokes. I have worked as a professional body double. I won't even eat mild cheddar. Or mild salsa. It's "medium" or bust with me.

Wendy and I are unlikely friends. Although we are close in age and both attended liberal Northeastern universities, Wendy is now Orthodox, married, the mother of a toddler, and, well, way more successful than I am. As a profile in the Toronto Star explains:

Shalit is the author of two thoroughly researched books about "young women reclaiming their self-respect" and rejecting promiscuity and the hypersexuality of popular culture and fashion.

Girls Gone Mild has just arrived on bookshelves. Her previous book, A Return to Modesty, was praised by Salon, The Wall Street Journal and Newsweek, which called her "a prodigy at cracking the codes of culture." Playboy, on the other hand, put it under the heading, A Man's Worst Nightmare.

Wendy Shalit - She's So Modest, This is Virtually the Only Photo of Her on the Entire InternetHere's what happened. About a year and a half ago, I emailed Wendy; we struck up an online friendship, and met once in a West Village diner when she came to New York to visit with her publisher. I started reading the blog Wendy writes in collboration with some twenty other modesty-minded women.

I was sometimes sympathetic (it is hard to find a nice one-piece swimsuit these days), and sometimes turned off by the bloggers' self-righteous attitudes (oh, those grapes are sour!) towards female celebrities including Britney, Paris, and the proudly-hot-at-40 Cindy Margolis.

The bloggers are all, as far as I can tell, Christian or Jewish -- and, of course, obsessed with modesty. I would always laugh -- in my high-school-debater, "gotcha" kind of way -- when they commented on the dress of Muslim women. Comments like "Well, that's just TOO modest." In one discussion of an "interfaith hospital gown" (clearly a paper burqua), one commenter writes "Oh- for heaven's sake--Why not just wrap up in a couple of sheets?"

That, of course, is precisely the remark I would make towards the modesty bloggers' own skirted swimsuits and up-to-the-collarbone wedding gowns.

Oy! Imagine the Tan Lines From THESE Modest Swimsuits!So here's the story. One day, a "modblogger" posted a cry for help: "I've offered to put on a Modest Dressing Fashion Show at my church this spring, and I have no idea (yet) how to run it!"

I imagined a bunch of girls in department-store frills and bows, and clunky, secretarial two-inch pumps, marching through a church basement while awful Christian "praise music" blasted from a boom box and everyone stood around uncomfortably, and then nodded and applauded, saying to one another "See, modesty can be fashionable," all while wondering, each in his or her own head, how that spectacle was just so embarassing, and what is it those secular models have that our girls don't have? I was embarrassed just thinking about it.

So I wrote up a reply. Just a long blog comment, explaining things like "...work out ahead of time who walks, in what order, wearing what, and post the list on a wall right in the place that the models see before they walk down the "runway" ...Arrange things so that the hardest outfits to get into come early in the show, so that a model's switch from first to second outfit can be done very quickly."

Wendy's ModestyZone has featured the Gali Girls, which are like Bratz, minus the makeup, T&A, and implications of casual sexWendy asked if she could excerpt it in her book. I said "sure." She offered me an opportunity to edit the piece, but I was going through a divorce at the time (oh, the irony! score one for Wendy) and never got back to her. Next thing I hear, the book is out, and a signed copy is in the mail to me.

Thus, I have written pages 170-172 of Girls Gone Mild. I have also written fifteen posts for Jewcy over the last five days, and this is me, signing off as your Guest Editor.

You can see more of Wendy here. You can see more of me at Jenisfamous.com, or in Brooklyn at Pete's Candy Store. I've also conducted an interview with Wendy -- an extension of this post -- which you can look forward to on Jewcy in the next few days. And finally, I'll be contributing a post here and there as an erstwhile guest contributor.

As for now -- I never did get around to telling you about that time I spent Passover at my high school boyfriend's family's beach house in Nags Head. It was my first Passover; after three days of sunbathing and chopped liver, I had never been so hungry for bread.

This is the most Jewish I've felt since then.

Thanks, Jewcy.

Sincerely,
Jennifer Dziura
Comedian and Retiring Guest Editor

Claudia CoganIn his notorious Vanity Fair piece, Why Women Aren't Funny, Christopher Hitchens says that, of the few good female comics, most are "hefty or dykey, or Jewish, or some combo of the three."

I figured I'd use my last day on the blogging job to bring you more comedy coverage. Here is a hi-larious interview with Claudia Cogan. I'm not sure if Hitchens has Claudia's number ... but she definitely ain't hefty.

Jen: Claudia, I remember a joke from your performance at Pete's Candy Store about people thinking you're Jewish when you're not. Can you run that by me again?

Claudia: I ran into an old friend of mine. It had been a while and she asked, "How was your Passover?" And I answered truthfully: "Well, it sucked because I'm not Jewish."

Everyone thinks I'm Jewish. I got a Hannukah card from a man I've known my entire life so I called him up. "Dad, you know I'm not Jewish."

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The Black Hawk Helicopter ... of COMEDYThis August 15th to September 5th, I will be in Iraq, Djibouti, and Kuwait entertaining U.S. troops. This is part of an all-women comedy tour (and I've been told there will be rides in Black Hawk helicopters!)

My father served in the U.S. Navy for over 20 years; a few days ago, my concerned mother warned me about military food, specifically a dish entitled "shit on a shingle," which I undertstand to involve, at least, toast.

Also on this tour, my jokes are subject to censorship by the Pentagon. (Note: See Ways to Make News About War in Iraq More Interesting to Average Americans).  This, strangely, I don't mind. As a comedian, it's my job to entertain the audience before me in the circumstances I'm given; I also believe in doing a good job according to my employer so I can feel good about myself when I spend the money on Pat Benatar iTunes tracks and abortions.

Several months ago, I read in Bust magazine about AnySolder.com,

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Archbishop Sean O'Malley of Boston has invited the Pope to the city in 2008, saying that a visit from Pope Benedict XVI would help to heal the wounds of Boston's clergy abuse scandals.

Because if you were raped by an authority figure in a funny hat, a visit from a bigger authority figure in a bigger, funnier hat will totally make you feel better.

As this week's guest blogger, I will now take it upon myself to answer the question, "Why am I here?"

Not "here," like "on earth," in which case the answer would, I fear, be sadly free of altruistic purpose and meaning-gathering.

I mean, like, on Jewcy.

I would like to begin answering this question by posting this image of me strangling Jewcy editor Michael Weiss in 1998.

(This was part of a poorly-produced humorous video sketch conceived by the staff of our campus humor magazine. I believe it was a parody of Jerry Bruckheimer films).

So, we've covered the "personal connection" angle. If you're wondering, I totally didn't sleep with your editor (more on my sex life later).

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About a year or so ago, I got a call from my mother, which is not uncommon, but this call was particularly memorable. She wanted to know if I knew who Jackie Mason was. Uh, yeah Mom, I think I may have heard of him. 

 I asked her why.   

Her response: “All I’m gonna say, is that if Jackie Mason ran for president, I would vote for him, and I’m not kidding! Have you heard him speak?” 

It turned out that I had actually just watched him perform, for the first time in my life, about a month before my mother called me from California. Apparently she had heard him on some radio show, talking politics, and somehow he emerged, for her, as a big contender in the future race for the presidential slot.Vote For Jackie!: Jackie Mason For President. 

“Does he travel to California? I want to go hear him speak. Can you find out on the internet?” 

Actually, Mom, you don’t go to hear him speak, you go to watch him perform—he’s a comedian, not a political theorist or something; there’s a difference. How did she not know this? The conversation ended with me promising to look online for information about Jackie Mason. I also now, finally, had a great idea for her birthday gift: a Jackie Mason DVD box-set. 

When it comes to Jackie Mason, seeing is believing. I laughed way more than I’m comfortable with admitting. But then there were a few parts of the act where I panicked, internally, because I’m so programmed to beware of racist, sexist, or just downright offensive talk. During those moments, I would look around to see what other people were doing. After a while, I began laughing at things that I thought were just terrible because everyone else was laughing, which meant that it must be okay, that it must be funny, that I was being overly sensitive. I remember frantically scanning the crowd for anyone who appeared to be Indian during one of Mason’s impressions of an Indian man.

 There’s an article in The Jewish Week that talks about the post-Imus plight of Jewish comedians, including Jackie Mason. 

Public debate over Imus has heightened public sensitivity over what may be considered out-of-line attacks on individuals or groups, Mason said. But he said he senses a backlash of support for Imus. Mason said he doesn’t plan to change his Broadway act, which often draws criticism for stereotyped depictions of many groups, especially Jews. “I won’t even consider it for a second,” he told The Jewish Week.

Though the most recent Imus controversy was not at first glance a Jewish issue, the shock jock has made a number of anti-Jewish comments over his long career, like calling a Washington Post reporter a “boner-nosed, beanie-wearing Jewboy” and referring to the publisher Simon & Schuster as “thieving Jews.” William F. Buckley observed on National Review Online that “one of his specialties . . . was cracks aimed at Jews.” It has long been the case that a disproportionate number of Jews are prominent arbiters of humor, adding to the perception of Jewish influence in the entertainment industry. The page in the Sunday Times’ Week in Review section that carried a pair of stories about the Imus controversy featured the photographs of three people—Howard Stern, Sarah Silverman and Sacha Baron Cohen—who are clearly Jewish.

Sounds like the ethics of humor is the new big topic, and, while I’m all about discussions of the ethical in all contexts, I fear that censoring comedians or trying to legislate what is acceptable and unacceptable humor is a slope more slippery than we’ve seen in a while.

Dame Edna's alter ego emerged from a different kind of closet in the latest edition or Heat magazine. Barry Humphries aka Dame Edna admitted that he is "partly Jewish." While Damn Edna could be the bastard child of Julia Child and Mike Myer's mother-in-law and frequent SNLer Linda Richman (Child contributing the Y chromosome in this scenario), who would have guessed Humphries was a canasta player?

With my background it was not spoken of, but I could play canaster without anyone teaching me, so I thought ‘well I must be Jewish!’ And I get on very well with North London people. I like the mix of scepticism and humour, and the intelligence of the average Red Sea pedestrian.

Outside of character Humphries, who is also well known for the larger-than-life Les Patterson, has been involved with cultural Jewish events.

For a number of years, he has been a patron of the Jewish Music Institute’s Suppressed Music Project, which focuses on composers who suffered under the Nazi regime.

Hypnosis by Pastie: Brooklyn's tribute to early animation. Photo by Dale HarrisLittle Brooklyn is one of the lights of New York’s burlesque revival. As gifted a comedian as she is a peeler, Brooklyn’s numbers include a stripping Rosie the Riveter, a pre-Hayes code-inspired black and white clown, and a glittering, disco-ball covered tribute to Abba’s Dancing Queen. I catch up with Brooklyn during a very brief gap in her performance schedule.

Molly: By day you're a corporate animator. What led a girl like you into burly-q?

Brooklyn: The original inspirations that peeked my interested in burlesque/vaudeville were: the Muppet show...oh to have my own theater just like Kermit the Little Rascals...all those episodes where the gang decides to "put on a show."

Tex Avery... Had me titillated those early Saturday mornings, from strip teasing shoes to a-peeling lizards.

Benny Hill, Lucille Ball, Pee Wee Herman, MGM, the list goes on. Fast forward 20 some odd years and I started to discover a variety of burlesque related events going on around me in NY: Ducky Doolittle had her weekly "dirty bingo" at what was then barmacy, the show included two go-go gals who sometimes did little striptease skits.

I caught the Pontani sisters doing their thing at Burlesque at the Beach in Coney Island and was immediately taken with the old school charm. And I had the good fortune of seeing the VaVaVoom Room, which included the three biggest modern influences on me... Dirty Martini, Julie Atlas Muz and Tigger. I loved the entertainment at these events, the humor, the body types and the charm. I loved how I felt and I wanted the opportunity to make other people feel the same way.

Yep, I’m a designer by day and I love my day job just as much. I'm quite lucky to have so many creative outlets. I think both jobs teach me problem solving skills that I can relate to each other.

Molly: Despite being extremely un-lucrative, burlesque is a passion (bordering on addiction) for hundreds of women around the world. What do you think makes the lifestyle so popular?
Peewee's Playhouse: Photo by Dale Harris
Brooklyn: In this oversexed day of celebrity-flesh-internet-porn-etc I cant help but think people are attracted to the slow burn, the tease, the wink and nod. Some come for the humor, some come for the glamour, but everyone comes for the cleverly hidden flesh carefully revealed.

Burlesque also gives people permission to look and laugh at ourselves. The opportunity to see real bodies, and by real I mean thin, curvy, flat, tall…freckles, dimples, stretch marks and all. For ladies to see woman who look like themselves and for men to see what happens to a real body when it hasn't been airbrushed.

Molly: Your acts really embody the two meanings of burlesque (comedy and striptease), and I've sometimes heard you describe your performances as funny rather than sexy. Want to talk more about your use of humor?

Brooklyn: Funny is sexy to me.

Molly: There are enough Jewish ladies in burlesque to make a stage show (Nice Jewish Girls Gone Bad). Has being Jewish inspired any of your acts? And would you like to talk about the legacy of Jewish dames in burlesque?

Brooklyn: Of course! Who else but a Jewess from New York would do a burlesque routine to a Richard Simmons workout? You can’t help but do what you know.

I have a soft spot for my mechanic act, cause it was written for my grandpappy – also a Brooklyn Jew. And I am sure my mothers cleaning OCD highly inspired my housewife act. Both acts include faux fan dancing (hubcaps and dirty dishes in place of fans)

The second part of this question opened up a Pandora's box filled with glitter and rhinestones. I am aware of the strong influence American Jews have had in the history of burlesque, playing off our stereotypes as quirky and manic. but I did not have a list of female names offhand who I was sure were in fact of Jewish descent and paving the glittery way. I was doing a little research and one in particular stands out, Fanny Brice “One of America's great clowns.”

Born on the Lower East Side of New York in 1891, she appeared in burlesque and vaudeville, drama, film, and musical revues (including nine Ziegfeld Follies between 1910 and 1936)
But get this line...

She refined her craft as a comic artist, describing herself as "a cartoonist working in the flesh." I have said that very same thing about myself, on account of my “day job”. It’s in the blood I tell you!

Molly: Right now you're running two weekly shows, at Riffifi and Lotus, plus performing constantly around town. Do you have any future plans for Little Brooklyn world domination?

Brooklyn: Ha, I just want to get through tomorrow. One day at a time sister.

Molly: Got any shows coming up?

Brooklyn: Come watch me fight off the Plague of Lice as well as my clothes at KOSHER CHIXXX PASSOVER STYLE: GET LIBERATED. Presented by the 14th St. Y. Thu. Mar 29 (9 PM) at Mo Pitkin's House of Satisfaction 34 Avenue A , New York, NY

They can check out info all about me at www.littlebrooklyn.com and the shows I co-produce with Creamy stevens, Starshine Burlesque at Rififi on Thursdays and Gold Rush Burlesque at Lotus on Tuesdays at www.starshineburlesque.com

Hitler's not funnyGermans aren't getting a big kick out of a new comedy that portrays Hitler as a bed-wetting drug addict. Sheesh, these guys have no sense of humor.

Germany's first comedy about Adolf Hitler is being panned by reviewers ahead of its opening this week and has provoked a debate about whether the country should be laughing about the man who ordered the Holocaust.

"Mein Führer: The Truly Truest Truth About Adolf Hitler" portrays Hitler as bed-wetting drug addict who takes baths with a toy battleship and dresses his Alsatian dog Blondi in an SS uniform. Swiss Jewish director Dani Levy says he wants to follow in the tradition of Charlie Chaplin's 1940 classic "The Great Dictator."

He also wants to explore the theory that Hitler was taking revenge on the world for being beaten by his father.

What, you're not laughing yet, either?  Is it that you can't laugh at Hitler comedy, or the film is simply not amusing? After all, look at what the Germans think is hilarious about Hitler:

Levy had plenty of material given that the real Hitler offered so much scope for humor with his manner of speaking, his Hitler salute and the huge discrepancy between his own physique and the Nazi ideal of a blonde, blue-eyed master race, writes Welt am Sonntag.

Huh. With comic material like that, how can you miss?

Levy, who won critical claim for his 2004 comedy "Go For Zucker" about two Jewish brothers in post-unification Germany, told SPIEGEL ONLINE he was trying to "demystify" Hitler with scenes such as the one in which pet dog "Blondi" mounts the dictator as he walks on all fours around his giant Chancellery office.

Hey, dogs humping legs is a time-honored comic tradition in film and TV! Obviously, Levi went a step farther. We should honor this advance in cinematic comedy.

So it's not The Producers. And Daniel Levy isn't Mel Brooks. One has to wonder if the film is truly unfunny, or if the Germans aren't at the point where they can laugh about their Nazi past. Whoops, that can't be it. Hogan's Heroes was a long-time cult hit in Germany. Perhaps this movie simply sucks.

Or maybe it's just my problem with Nazi comedies. I didn't get the humor behind "The Bonker," either.

Bad posture, beer breath, the Sprockets catsuit—turns out you can sport despair most any way you like. Perhaps, per genre, you are Waspy and gaunt, wear lots of black, read Thomas Bernhard, shun camaraderie and social events, and, most important, appear to know something about the world the rest of us don’t. Or you’re Jewish. And possibly fat.

Thing is, if you’re Jewish, you’re getting the short end of the stickArt courtesy of Dave Choe. The moody Jew always seems less Sid Vicious, more Larry David; less Robert Smith, more Lou Reed. (Nothing wrong with Lou Reed, though if I had to pick a rocker to sleep with, Vicious is a shoo-in.) These guys, the sexy ones, don’t choose despair, but experience it as a byproduct of being alive. But guys like Larry David and Woody Allen seem to covet despair like a drug. There’s even a certain pride there, like: Tada! I can leech the pleasure from most anything!

To wit, a story: I recently had a facial, a pillaging-of-the-skin experience for which I paid $150. Let it be said I don’t know how to wear makeup, I pronate in high heels, and that aside from the Semitic albatross called big hair, I’m not really the girly type. So when I say I got a facial, it is with the rider that this was bound to be unpleasant. And, in turn, thrilling.

At the spa, it was like this: The staff is obsequious and I hate every one of them. The girl at the desk tells me I look exhausted, then gives me a mesh duffel with flip-flops and an eggshell muumuu. She escorts me to a lounge, which is nice, except for the women in flops and muumuus. I head for a platter of snacks. I spy poppyseed crackers, whose shrapnel will likely end up in my teeth. I eat, like, twenty.

And, oh good, here comes the facialist.

We go to her room. She tells me to unpack the mesh and hang the muumuu; she says I can put my clothes on a chair, that I should lie face-up under a sheet and she’ll be right back. I find these instructions oblique. Am I supposed to get naked? I’m having a facial, why would I get naked? Am I supposed to wear the muumuu under the sheet? But she said hang the muumuu. I realize she’s going to return any second and that I’m still clothed except for my boots because in no scenario does it make sense to wear my boots. But what about socks? I can hear her about to come in, so I grab my cell phone and make like someone called while I was getting ready, hence the delay, sorry, sorry, only once she leaves, I’ve gotten no closer to knowing what to do. Finally I ditch everything but the underwear and get under the sheet hoping she’ll never know what decisions I’ve made. If she ends up between my legs, I guess something will have gone awry.

The facial gets underway. I am told I don’t know how to care for my skin. I am told I cannot continue to act like a child. I am familiar with this refrain, coming, as it does, from my mother and therapist alike.
The facialist massages my arms. I get gooseflesh and worry she’s gonna think I’m aroused. Then she addresses her talents to a region below the ankle. If there are sock bunnies cleaved to the balls of my feet, I will hang myself. The longer she kneads my heels and calves—yep, my calves, good thing I haven’t shaved in two days—the more miserable I get.

Is this fun so far? This is the opposite of fun. But maybe it’s funny. I certainly hope it’s funny because if there’s humor to be wrung from every occasion we’re able to drain of pleasure owing to neuroses, grandiloquent self-abasement, and excess body hair, it’s the silver lining in an otherwise debilitating ethic.

Think big. It’s no secret that Woody Allen—paradigm of Jewish angst—originally titled Annie Hall “Anhedonia.,” which means an inability to enjoy life. Allen’s shlubby, neurotic conduct in the movie seems to question whether the pathology is congenital to Jews, or adopted. Does Allen open a compact of blow just so he can sneeze all over it and despair, or does he sneeze because he’s constitutionally incapable of enjoying the experience that is snorting blow? Affect, instinct?

Depends who you ask. Certainly a hankering for misery butts heads with one of the Socratic dialogues, the Meno, in which Socrates disembowels Meno’s idea that some people desire bad things. His logic goes like this: People who desire bad things know they will be miserable as a result? Yes. And miserable people are unhappy? Yes. Does anyone want to be unhappy? No. Ergo, no one wants bad things. The loony assumption here is, of course, that no one wants to be unhappy. I love this dialogue because it’s fun to watch Socrates dispatch—with élan—the possibility that people are fucked up.

I took this question to my shrink, who, unlike Socrates, is pretty well acquainted with the fuck-ups. Whence a desire for anhedonia, I asked her. Why covet a condition that can only result in misery? Her answer: preemptive despair. Preemptive despair! Since things never work out for the Jews—historically, there’s some truth to this—we’ve learned to steel ourselves against misery by being miserable from the start.

I found this hilarious. It’s just so Jewish. So convoluted. And it collapses the instinct/affect binary by suggesting that our affect is instinctual—i.e., if we can’t help but choose unhappiness, we’re dealing with a choiceless choice. One of these double-bind scenarios into which so many of our tragic heroes are thrust. Macbeth and Bovary, Lear, Raskolnikov, the “can’t help but” phenomenon accounts for at least fifty percent of literary tragedy, if not more. By the same token, if you tweak the phenomenon, you get comedy. Of course you do. Character as fate, a comedy of errors, people who are funny precisely because they can’t help but ruin everything. Yoked to the shrink’s theory, you get the atavism of misery—a Jewish narrative that spans centuries—and the narrative it inspires by way of entertainment.

And that’s why it’s no accident your “miserable Jew” archetype ends up being a funny guy for hire. “Killing your dad so you can marry your mom” isn’t exactly stand-up, but it’s good enough for a chuckle. Stick Smith or Morrissey in the presidential suite and he might fall into the jacuzzi, or lament travesties wrought by our idiot government and the agony of having to wake up each day. Jerry Seinfeld, on the other hand, or Jason Alexander, or Jackie Mason (okay, he’s not funny) will upturn everything in the presidential suite until he finds that used condom hewn to the box frame that ruins the special pleasure of staying in the presidential suite. Then he will lament said travesties and the condom, because it augurs devastating solitude for all his days. It’s the condom as prognosticator, as catalyst for anxious rant that ends up being hilarious. And excruciating. Ever notice how painful Curb Your Enthusiasm is? It’s the fulcrum of tragedy and comedy; of course, the difference is so slight.