Have we taken our eye off the War on Hanukkah?
ASHEVILLE JCC FORWARD OPERATING BASE, WEDNESDAY — Another winter has brought yet another flare-up of die-hard Christmas crazies waging yuletide across the mountains.
Though Christmas loyalists were driven literally insane by the above method of counter-insurgency, Hanukkah’s supporters remain unfazed.
However, with secular resources being tied up in the suppression of these deadenders, some worry that we’ve left the forces of Hanukkah alone for too long, allowing them to gain a toe-hold in the public consciousness.
“We have successfully beaten back the Hanukkah insurgents for over 2,000 years,” said Lt. Col. Scott Davis, a counter- holiday expert. “However, observant Jews are gathering in fives, even in groups of six, all across the mountains.”
Forcing pro-Hanukkah forces to call the Shamash, an extra candle that is used to light the other Hanukkah candles, the “holiday Shamash” has had little effect on Jewish morale, according to Davis.
“We’ve tried everything — calling dreidels ‘holiday spinners,’ banning the term Hanukkah gelt in favor of ‘holiday loot’ and, when forced to use the name of their holiday, we have spelled it hundreds of ridiculous ways. They just don’t care. They are not as easily rattled as the pro-X-mas forces.”
In fact, studies show that regardless of whether or not latkes are referred to as latkes or as “holiday freedom-cakes,” they will still be happily consumed in large quantities over the eight days of the Jewish holiday.
Despite bringing pro-Christmas and anti-Christmas forces together as one, Hanakkah remains, for now, unstoppable.
“We are at our wit’s end,” said Davis. “We may have to withdraw one of our most potent gentile weapons from the war on Jewish mysticism, thereby freeing up the resources that would allow us to drop Madonna on Hanukkah.”
Ways city of Asheville can recoup its losses on the McCormick Heights project
• Make it the visiting team’s locker room.
• Invest another $6 million in time-machine technology.
• Start a Liberty Dollar mint.
• Rent property out to Carolina Stompers as a soundstage.
• Develop it as a “Scared Straight” theme park.
• Start a stray-dog-bakery business incubator.
• Rechristen the area “Homerun Alley” and then find a baseball player who can hit homeruns.
• When Santa, as promised, visits the housing units of the now-evicted children to fulfill their Christmas wish for “hope,” jack all his toys.
• Initiate a “copper pipe buy-back” program.
• Pitch site for new reality show — So You Wanna’ Be a Cult Leader?
My husband and I are having a difficult time deciding on whether we should get our child circumcised. What is your opinion on the matter?
Absolutely do not get him circumcised. Having a long and healthy foreskin is a sign of virility and manliness.
My family prided itself on the famous Crapacan foreskin — the longest in the tri-county area. My brothers and I would have foreskin contests and we’d stretched them out as far as they could go.
I could lift a 15-pound weight with mine and occasionally it would even get caught in my shoe. It made running difficult, but looked very impressive.
Of course, having a long foreskin is like wrapping a Vienna sausage in a towel so my wife was a little disappointed on our wedding night.
Down with the 5th-grade occupiers of my swingset
Samuel, aka The Lion of Pisgah
Praise be to Allah, praise be to Ronald McDonald.
You, the fifthgrade infidels, have occupied my sandbox since the beginning of recess and I tell you I will smash your sand castles as if they were built of very loosely packed sand. Where mighty castles now stand, there will be nothing but dust!
You have given wedgies to my firstgrade brothers-in-arm: al-Johnson, Bobby the Candlerian and Marty Smith, to whom I have offered my protection.
You have disgraced our holy sites, such as the Wall of Finger-Painting Pictures, the ancestral home of the handprint turkeys.
You have driven us from the Nap-Time Floor of the Lion, where we seek respite when we bow down to pray in the early afternoon and immediately fall asleep in the process.
You have brazenly surrounded the first-grade cafeteria table, where we innocently pursue the final step in the ears-nose-throat-dairy advancements that would allow us to defend ourselves by projecting skim-milk onto aggressors from our nasal passages at a range of up to .001 kilometers.
Our list of grievances is long. We have time and again humbly approached the water fountain, only to have fifthgrade crusaders count to 10 as fast as they can. We thirst!
The crusading after-school program chaperones who are your patrons continuously mock us with sugar-free wafers.
You ask us why we cover up the faces of our first-grade cuties with nap blankets — it is proper!
The fourth-grade pig-tailed harlots you “go with” are an abomination, a monument to immorality built of hair braids, jellies and bracelet trinkets. They stick out their tongues at us, without shame!
Your immodest tumbling-class infidels perform cartwheels as if they answer only to the fork-tongued devil, Hannah Montana!
Praise be to Allah, who built Playdoh and swingsets in justice, and wisely created skittles and the Wiggles!