Merry Bris-mas!
It occurred to me this afternoon that, since Jesus was a Jew, not only is Christianity a Zionist plot, but yesterday, being the 8th day since his birthday, was the anniversary of him having the end of his penis chopped off.
You can imagine the conversation between Jesus and Dad, can't you?
"c'mon, c'mon, pick up the prayer already... Dad! It's me: Jesus."
"It is you who says that you are."
"I am who I am, Dad."
"So you say."
"Dad, I got a... you gotta minute? I guess I got what you'd call some concerns here."
"'Bout what?"
"See, Mum and this other guy... who IS that guy anyway, Dad? I don't like the way he keeps hanging round Mum. He doesn't... he's not as... well, he keeps being way too friendly with her, a good little Jewish girl like that deserves better. I'd keep an eye on her if I were you. Which I might be, apparently, according to who you talk to.
Well anyway, I'm praying here, enough of the interruptions already.
See they want me to have this bris thing. Only, it sounds... well... well, look, apparently it's something about a deal with you."
"Yes, it is. The bris is the sealing of our covenant. My covenant between, well, me, I guess, and the Children of Israel, or child, really, in this case: you."
"Yeah. That's what they said. Only..."
"Spit it out."
"Don't get me started on THAT part of it! Oi vey. Who thought that one up? I ask you!"
"Well..."
"Rhetorically."
"Oh."
"So anyway, what it sounds like to me, is that I get part of me chopped off, a part of me I really REALLY like, in exchange for-rrrr...."
"For...?"
"That's the non rhetorical part -- you're supposed to fill it in."
"Oh. I didn't know."
"Eh? How is that poss..."
"Movingrightalong. What you get in exchange is that you get to have to always wear a little hat."
"A little hat."
"That's right. Also, you get to be forbidden to eat lots of things. Like shellfish."
"I sure do!"
"Tough. You won't be allowed to eat them."
"No lobster. No crab. No oyster. No..."
"That's right, 90% of tasty seafood is off your list. Then there's ..."
"Hang on, hang on, what DO I get to eat already?"
"Well... there's schmaltz, that's pretty popular."
"Chicken fat."
"Yeah."
"Chicken fat?! THIS is my trade-off for lobster?!"
"Chopped liver and raw onions? Any interest... oh, if you could only see your face right now- it's a picture."
"I'm... So... Look, let's just see if I've got this right, OK?
YOU. Chop off part of my dick.
ME. In return I get to arbitrarily restrict my life in all sorts of ways that had minor health benefits 1,000 years ago before we had an understanding of basic sanitation."
"Pretty much."
"Jesus Christ!"
"That's the Spirit!"
"No, it's me."
"So you say."
Bris
a religious ceremony within Judaism that welcomes infant Jewish boys into a covenant between God and the Children of Israel through ritual circumcision performed by a Mohel in the presence of family and friends, followed by a celebratory meal.
Traditionally on the 8th day after birth.
See: South Park's canonical treatment thereof
You can imagine the conversation between Jesus and Dad, can't you?
"c'mon, c'mon, pick up the prayer already... Dad! It's me: Jesus."
"It is you who says that you are."
"I am who I am, Dad."
"So you say."
"Dad, I got a... you gotta minute? I guess I got what you'd call some concerns here."
"'Bout what?"
"See, Mum and this other guy... who IS that guy anyway, Dad? I don't like the way he keeps hanging round Mum. He doesn't... he's not as... well, he keeps being way too friendly with her, a good little Jewish girl like that deserves better. I'd keep an eye on her if I were you. Which I might be, apparently, according to who you talk to.
Well anyway, I'm praying here, enough of the interruptions already.
See they want me to have this bris thing. Only, it sounds... well... well, look, apparently it's something about a deal with you."
"Yes, it is. The bris is the sealing of our covenant. My covenant between, well, me, I guess, and the Children of Israel, or child, really, in this case: you."
"Yeah. That's what they said. Only..."
"Spit it out."
"Don't get me started on THAT part of it! Oi vey. Who thought that one up? I ask you!"
"Well..."
"Rhetorically."
"Oh."
"So anyway, what it sounds like to me, is that I get part of me chopped off, a part of me I really REALLY like, in exchange for-rrrr...."
"For...?"
"That's the non rhetorical part -- you're supposed to fill it in."
"Oh. I didn't know."
"Eh? How is that poss..."
"Movingrightalong. What you get in exchange is that you get to have to always wear a little hat."
"A little hat."
"That's right. Also, you get to be forbidden to eat lots of things. Like shellfish."
"I sure do!"
"Tough. You won't be allowed to eat them."
"No lobster. No crab. No oyster. No..."
"That's right, 90% of tasty seafood is off your list. Then there's ..."
"Hang on, hang on, what DO I get to eat already?"
"Well... there's schmaltz, that's pretty popular."
"Chicken fat."
"Yeah."
"Chicken fat?! THIS is my trade-off for lobster?!"
"Chopped liver and raw onions? Any interest... oh, if you could only see your face right now- it's a picture."
"I'm... So... Look, let's just see if I've got this right, OK?
YOU. Chop off part of my dick.
ME. In return I get to arbitrarily restrict my life in all sorts of ways that had minor health benefits 1,000 years ago before we had an understanding of basic sanitation."
"Pretty much."
"Jesus Christ!"
"That's the Spirit!"
"No, it's me."
"So you say."
originally posted on my site, but liked the Bris-sie pun
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