Yom Kippur 2011: Dear God, please don't shove a lightning bolt up my (redacted)

Yom Kippur is the Jewish day of atonement. Some of you...I mean us...have a long way to go. A peaceful world to all of you, unless you don't deserve it.

LOS ANGELES, October 7, 2011—“I’m just a soul who’s intentions are good. Oh lord, please don’t let me be misunderstood.”

Friday night at sundown begins Yom Kippur, the Jewish day of atonement. We Hebrews apologize for all of our sins and vow to be better people in the future. We pray to God that he does not shove a flamethrower up our (redacted) even when we really deserve it.

Like Guns n Roses singing “Locomotive,” I am “gonna have some fun with my frustration… taking time for quiet consolation.”

Every year is a different approach.

2007 A: 2007 B: 2008: 2009 A: 2009 B: 2010:

As for 2011, of course I am a screwup. We all are. My suggestion to God is that he grade on a curve, since I can’t be as bad as Pol Pot, Idi Amin, or Debbie Wasserman-Schultz.

Oh great. Now I have another remark to apologize for.

The bottom line is some people make grand proclamations about how they are going to lose weight, start exercising, be nicer to people, and just become so sickeningly sweet that others will want to slap them.

Others will be phony in a different way. They will spend 24 hours fasting (the ritual), apologize for their sins, and then come home and make jokes about how Adolf Hitler and George W. Bush mated to produce Sarah Palin.

Liberal Jews for the most part should just skip Synagogue and get to the insults.

Oh wow. Another attempt at contrition resulted in knocking people. This atonement thing is tough.

Anyway, rather than set unachievable goals, perhaps this will be the year that I will, like Bill Murray in “What About Bob,” take baby steps. So let’s separate fantasyland from reality.

Fantasyland: Join a gym and exercise.

Reality: I am not a gerbil and am not getting on a Stairmaster (Thank you Denis Leary). If I drop dead early I deserve it.

Achievable compromise: Intramural sports, trips to the Jacuzzi, and maybe getting back to doing a few sit-ups per day. I will walk everyday to my mailbox to check the mail. I live in a condo building.

Fantasyland: Eat healthier.

Reality: I like flavor, and the guy who invented “neatloaf” instead of meatloaf should be executed.

(Reminder to self: Death threats as Yom Kippur approaches means a demerit. Being more careful is necessary.)

Achievable Compromise: I put lettuce on a burger, and will eat salads if they have crispy chicken or beef in them. I will try low-fat dressings.

Fantasyland: No more sex until after marriage.

Reality: Are you (unprintable in a family newspaper) kidding me God?

(Challenging God about his laws is not good, especially before Yom Kippur.)

I was celibate in junior high school if by celibate one means not even getting to the hand-holding or talking to them stage. That was not my choice. Even if I turn into Wilt Chamberlain from now on I will average a below average love life.

I could limit myself to Republican Jewish brunettes, which technically is celibacy given how few of them exist.

(Prove me wrong with pictures, financial statements, and voting history.)

Achievable compromise: Jewish brunettes who do not hate Republicans are fair game, provided they want to get married and have children. I will take them at their word rather than make them wait.

They are not to answer the phone since mom may call and they are not to do my laundry since my unmentionables are my business.

Fantasyland: Not wanting to execute some of my relatives who are defective products in need of being returned to the manufacturer. Apparently Roe vs Wade does not allow for 200th trimester abortions (Thank you South Park).

Reality: Killing people in an act of murder is wrong. Wanting to kill or at the very least throttle people who deserve it is normal and healthy. Deciding who deserves it is subjective, but so is virtually everything else in life.

Achievable Compromise: I will make a sincere effort to not verbally rip the throats out of people who bother me. Referees who make bad calls during football games are exempt from this rule since keeping anger bottled up is unhealthy.

Fantasyland: I will make peace with leftists, Islamists, Palestinians, and others who would slit my throat in a heartbeat for sport.

Reality: Hammurabi’s Law works.

Achievable Compromise: I will be less strident in real life (perhaps) but not in my columns because that is how I write. Of course, once the others see me as human, I may return the acknowledgment of Homo Sapien status.

The bottom line is I am not Madonna or Lady Blah Blah Goo Goo Gaga or any other person who has a desire to reinvent himself. Of course self-improvement matters. Yet waxing poetic about idealism is less meaningful and powerful than looking in the mirror and looking at the sky.

Saturday will be a meaningful day. Yet Saturday night, despite it being unhealthy to gorge after fasting for 24 hours, I will probably gorge. Sunday will bring between six and nine hours of NFL football, and the first bad call will be a test.

Monday will be the real challenge. Protesters are harassing Wall Street, and openly cheering for the police to tear gas and beat the daylights out of the street scum is probably inappropriate.

Maybe I can pray the protesters try being peaceful, since even I would not advocate violent crackdowns on peaceful protesters.

(Although in all honesty,  America could learn a lot from Singapore. Yes, the reasons to apologize keep coming.)

At the risk of missing the entire point of the holiday, I wish everybody on this Earth who bothers me from wretched family members to Islamofascists to vegan Prius drivers would just find a way to stop aggravating me. I wish they would change. Then it would be easier for me to deal with them.

Of course, true honest contrition involves accepting that I have a long way to go before the man I am remotely resembles the man I can, should, and must be. The potential exists, but potential is a phony word to describe one who has failed to meet expectations, be it mine or others.

I am flawed. I am human. I am more than zero but far from perfect. On this Yom Kippur, the goal is to get better.

May peace and tranquility be the order of the day, and maybe even carry over into the future.

Brooklyn born, Long Island raised, and now living in Los Angeles, Eric Golub is a politically conservative columnist, blogger, author, public speaker, satirist and comedian. 

Eric is the author of the book trilogy “Ideological Bigotry, “Ideological Violence,” and “Ideological Idiocy.” Eric is 100% alcohol, tobacco, drug, and liberalism free. After years of dating liberals, he has finally seen the light and now only dates Republican Jewish women. His family is pleased over this. Republican, Jewish women, you may contact Eric above.

Follow Eric on Twitter @TYGRRRREXPRESS

Eric Golub is an independent writer for the Communities. Read more from Eric at his TYGRRRR EXPRESS blog.

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Eric Golub

Eric Golub is a politically conservative Jewish blogger, author, public speaker, and comedian. His book trilogy is “Ideological Bigotry,” “Ideological Violence,” and  “Ideological Idiocy.” 

He is Brooklyn born, Long Island raised, and has lived in Los Angeles since 1990. He received his Bachelors degree from the University of Judaism, and his MBA from USC. A stockbrokerage professional since 1994, he began blogging on March 11th, 2007, the three year anniversary of the Madrid bombings and the midpoint of 9/11. He has been inflicting his world view on his unfortunate readers since then. He blogs about politics Monday through Friday, and about football and other human interest items on weekends.



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