An Answer to a Question I Hadn’t Asked



Every one knew that Ratty was unfaithful to his wife.

There’s the long story about how he was sent from Kaka to another country so that he’d find the Nice Jewish Girl, but instead came home with a Catholic from another place like Kaka.

We all assumed, yeah, that’s why Pharaoh and the rest of his fandamily were so negative about him.

We assumed that there was this kind of pressure, guilt, name what you will, so he dabbled in easy quickies and drank and all the rest of it.

It wasn’t much of a discussion, wasn’t provoker of much interest.

The other day there was this idea to honour the elder members of the Congregation in one big ceremony at a fancy place.

Ratty wanted everyone to come but I didn’t have a lift so he said he’d collect me.

The function was to begin at Six Thirty and we should all be on spot by Six and he’d pick me up at Five Thirty.

I was ready at Five Twenty, expecting him to be there when I stepped out, but he wasn’t.  Then it was Five Thirty, then Five Forty, and I wondered if something hadn’t happened, so rang Ratty.

He said he was on his way.

Ratty pulled up some minutes past Six with his wife.

Ratty is never late, he’s always a bit early.  That’s why I was ready early.   Ratty’s a guy who likes to chat and joke and is interested.

The Robot who collected me was silent and Mrs. Ratty ignored me.  She went along with her conversation to Ratty.

She was making pronouncements, she was making statements.   I was totally excluded.  The rudeness was remarkable.  It was not as if I had been invited and Ratty was my willing driver, it was as if I were some bum picked up on the road side.

When we reached the venue and Ratty was going to park, Mrs. Ratty told him where and how.  She ran the show.

When I got out of the car she walked in her direction and I followed and we entered.  I made sure to move in a direction opposite Mrs. Ratty.

I sat with others and had a good enough time, and then the place began to thin.  I went to Ratty who was on his own.

Mrs. Ratty had made ‘other plans’ and Ratty was to join her elsewhere.

Ratty drove me home, and instead of waiting until I got in, partially dumped me off so as to race back to where his Master demanded.

There is no ponder why Ratty eats traffe or why hates to go home.   I wouldn’t even want to sit near Mrs. Ratty for ten minutes.

To say she is obnoxious, to say she is cold, would not capture the complete lack of any and all redemptive qualities expected in a human being.

So now I know why Ratty hates to go home.   Now I know why Ratty drinks.  Now I know why Ratty has affairs.

Looking Around


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It is a pretty grim site.   The kind that Jews, real Jews would consider upsetting.  But the view I will describe is standard.

It is standard for parents to, on particular free food excursions to drag their godless children with them.  These are kids who not only don’t know, but don’t care.

There’s a difference between someone brought into a House of Worship in a strange religion to have a certain curiosity.  To want to know.  What is this… what does that mean, why are people standing?  Why ….?   And a child who doesn’t have the least interest and is being forced to stand in a place they don’t consider any more spiritual than a bus stop.

The children of the those who attend the Synagogue in Kaka are not merely unaware, they don’t care.  They know nothing, and they don’t want to know.

This is because their parents know nothing and don’t want to know.

There’s Pharaoh and his Shiksa.  He walks in and out to talk on his cell phone.  Doesn’t matter if the Ark is open or closed or people are reciting the Shema.

There’s the Garbage Truck, an Israeli… the guy who replaced my friend at Zim.  He walks in late, ignoring the fact the Ark is open not because he doesn’t know better but because he considers the Shul a bus stop.

There’s crazy Tanya shrieking into the Mic, being her usual repulsive self, thinking she is fooling people or getting their interest.

I stand in my place and try to block out what is going on around me.  Trying not to be distracted by fidgeting children, stomping Garbage Trucks, and the rest of the sludge.

Earlier I heard about the ‘caretaker’ who refused to open the Shul.   I know all about the Jewish Home, which is a kind of mix of zoo and home for the repulsively ugly.

The pigs who reside here are loud and ugly and none of them has ever had a single date or place to go.

Unlike normal people who have friends and interests, these females have nothing but themselves.

Sure, if there was a proper board in place, the Hippo would be gone, I would be running the Home, the Pig Thing helper would be replaced by someone who cleans.

But this will Never Happen.


As The Shul Turns — Episode 107

There will be no Chanukah celebration at the Shul.   This is because the First night falls on Xmas eve.  The Jews of Kaka will be going to their Xmas parties.

At first the idea was to have the functions at the Shul.   Saturday, 1st Night, Sunday a service, but this would interfere in the Xmas celebrations of the Jews of Kaka.

So this is scraped.

The Jews of Kaka have their Friday / Saturday service as usual.

The Jews of Kaka have a ‘Board’ which runs everything.  The persons chosen are totally worthless.  They do nothing, are interested in nothing, and however it was in 2000 it is today.

Trying to speak with any of them is pointless.  They listen to no one, save the various goys they may hire.   They do nothing; so it takes over half a year for the backdoor to be fixed and three months for the ‘helper’ (the laziest person in existence who, pardon the expression, ‘works’ at the Jewish home) to return the key she took of spite.


As Jewish As a Ham Sandwiche



A famous Israeli writer makes the point that Jews only survive when they are oppressed. As soon as the pressure is removed Jewish communities fall apart.  Jews drift away.

People always argue with him, because they don’t like hearing the truth.  They pretend they don’t know that Jews prefer to fight against each other than strangers.

In Kaka there is the Jewish Home.  One Jew lives there.  The rooms are rented out to the kind of trashy gals that wouldn’t be invited to anything requiring a smatter of class.

The home is run by a hugely fat Hippo who does absolutely nothing at all whatsoever but is given free room and board plus a salary.

For years a school ran there, unknown to the Board of Directors.  When it was learned, the School was moved to the largest apartment.

Over the years the electricity bill is made up of about 50% of the Hippos usage, the tenants of the Jewish home, the other 50%.  That is because the Hippo has a huge fridge, a deep freeze an air conditioner and a pile of other things she runs all the time.  Because she can.

The Board changes and attacks are made on previous Board Members, but nothing at all whatsoever is done to change what is.

If one simply appointed the Jew who lives there to monitor, gave a free room and nothing more, the savings would be enormous.  But to appoint a Jew, to hire a Jew is a problem for the Jews of Kaka.

The Jews of Kaka spend their time fighting against each other, because that is what happens when there is no oppression.

The Jews of Kaka may visit the synagogue then go and have their roast pork.  They’ll go and have affairs with non-Jews.  They’ll lie and cheat and do what they please. And if they get a chance to help an other Jew they relish their ability to deny.

So the electricity in one kitchen needs fixing.  The back door and gate in the other are collapsing,  who cares?   Fight over who said what, fight over who suggests what, and spend money keeping a Hippo fat.



As The Shul Turns – Episode 106


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The backdoor at the Jewish home is still broken after 6 months.  The key to the grill is still missing after two months.  The Hippo can’t leave her wallow but is still being paid, the lying stealing ‘helper’ is still lying and stealing.


Nothing changes for the Jewish community in Kaka.

There’s a Board which does nothing at all whatsoever.   There’s busy officials who can’t seem to get around to their tasks.

But they want their ‘dues’ from members they crap on.

Now I wish I was making this up.  I wish this was a comedy.  But it isn’t.

The Congregation decided to take on a project for a school.  Today, Shabbat, the members are busy painting this school.  Yes, right…Shabbat.  And they are working.

Not on Sunday, that would be inconvenient to the Xians.  But today is just fine.  After service the congregation will go down to this school and do whatever.

As you may guess I am not there, but I haven’t been there for a very long time.

On Friday I will go to service, but not on Saturday.  I avoid all their little functions. I try to keep myself separate from them and it works.

There are a few I speak to who speak to me, but I avoid the Machas, them on the Board, them who ‘rule’.  For I would not like to be found dead in their company.



Two Left Feet in a Juk Stop Position


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It is almost funny, and would be funny, if I were standing outside, looking over the fence at the next door neighbours.   But I am supposed to be a member of the congregation; a non-financial one,  but a member.

I didn’t realise how badly the Shul, the Jewish Home, everything connected with the Jewish community in Kaka was run.

Sure, over the decades I’d seen ridiculous Jewish businesses, making every mistake known, and going out of business.

I’ve seen Jews take advantage of a monopoly by the usual  abuse of customers, and adoption of bad business models, so that the second a competitor arrives the monopoly goes bankrupt.

I’ve seen Jews hire non-Jews, over pay them, give them more benefits than they ought get, and then ponder why the knives are in their backs; while ignoring other Jews who would be happy to do the work.

The Jewish Home is ‘run’ by a hippo who never leaves her room.  She depends on a dishonest rude pig thing, the so-called ‘helper’  to do what she should.

The pig thing has been absent for two weeks and no one knows what has been going on.  The tenants do what they please, and the fact the pig thing isn’t there doesn’t make much difference, as she never did much work.

If one were to attempt to tell the President….(he who leads the Board) it’s a waste of air.  Firstly he’s too stupid to ask me what is happening although I’m on the ground.  Secondly, even if I tell him, it goes straight through, left ear and out the right.

They fired the dishonest ‘secretary’ who got a bit too complacent with her thefts.  After all, she’d been ripping for years and never got caught, so a bit of boldness did push her over the line.

I never told the President what I knew; why bother?  He doesn’t listen anyway and the next thing I would make an enemy.  Why bother?

So, here’s the shul, limping along, the Jewish home being more an all expense paid vacation for a horrible hippo who never did anything for those who hired her, and the President claiming to ‘make changes’….

And it’s 5 months since the back door was to be repaired.


As The Shul Turns -Episode 105


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The gal who works in the office was fired.  As those who work for the Jewish Community here in Kaka, she  ought never have been hired.

Here was a gal who was having an affair with a married man, who probably used her body to gain a position at the shul.   She bore two bastards for her married man and was so well paid for doing nothing that she bought a car.

Here was a gal, without morals, without knowledge, who brought pepperoni pizza to the Kiddush.

Here was a gal who was virtually useless, but she sat in the office as if she was some sort of royalty.   Who strode around the Jewish Home once a week as if she paid salaries and controlled benefits.

She was caught padding her salary.  Caught and sought to step on the helper.  Caught and sought to gain assistance from various members of the congregation.

But alas for our Gal, Pharaoh no longer had the power to change a roll of toilet paper, and the  Board was made up of people who were as remote from her world, from Pharaoh’s world as if they used to attend the 7th Day Adventist Church across the road.

So the Gal is fired.  The gal is gone.   And now the new President, Paul Molloch is going to see how he can manage.

Will he hire another bedable shcksa to dig her trafe fingers into files and pocket cash?

Stay tuned.

As The Shul Turns — Episode 104


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The Friday evening, just before the Pesach dinner, the Shul was pretty full.  The clans took their seats, Pharoah’s family (missing Pharaoh and Shksa, but with Handpuppet) over in the North East.

The ‘other half’ , that is, Ratty’s family in the South East, with Actress and Buddah, no Old Dawg but some Israelis.

Over there, in the North West,  a few of the other old families and newbies, and here in the South West, myself, empty seats, then Sharon, and behind her the Binns, behind them the Hadads.

Vic was in the choir loft, but his wife hadn’t come.  Torn Tallit was there was Crazy Tanya.  The organist was replaced.

Having spent so many thousands on someone gone so deep into seniality, one expected that when she was gone, she was gone and we would no longer be assaulted by the discordance; but they hired another.

That’s one thing one can count on; the congregations demand for dues they can waste.

Terry had brought someone who would ‘study’ the community.

I was alone as K hadn’t come.

It was cool that Sharon, my once BF would insure that I should not sit with her, which was fine.  It was honest.  It proved who she was.

I was glad Le Stat had come so we could talk.

Ratty did the sermon, I don’t know what he said, really, sort of wading through my reality, thinking of the first Pesach, when Sharon paid for my ticket, thinking of my last Pesach, with Miriam and K.



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It was one of those moments in life in which all the deceptions blow away.

K claimed to have mixed up the date and had to take the car in for servicing.  She told me on Weds.  so I didn’t buy her a ticket.   I knew she was playing the game to keep the car.

It did not surprise nor upset me,  as I had the impression months ago, but pushed it to the back of the queue.  It wasn’t important.

For three seconds I thought about not going, then pulled myself to reality.  This is my life, and I put into my life what I can.  Stay home, day after week after month after year…no.  Throw myself into it all.

I bought my ticket, and I had my taxi driver take me to the Shul.

There was my once BF, Sharon.  She who had paid my first fee for Pesach.  Paid because one keeps their ‘enemies’ closer.  Thinking her ex-boyfriend, that is one of the Witches of Hillcrest’s ex-husband, was with me, she’d play pal.

Realising, two years gone that there was nothing, she probably regretted spending two minutes in my company.

There was Mrs. Hadad and her daughter, and daughter’s hubby whom I’d sat with three years ago.

I assumed I’d be at their table.  I asked the daughter about a drop up and she was iffy.

After service, when we entered, there was no room at the table Sharon chose, so I moved to another.  Some character sat beside me, and wasn’t leaving so I moved to sit with Le Stat.  We had a friendly time.

The racism of these people is in shades.  Some are not; having married out.  Some are partial.  And some…are.

Terry had a friend who was interested in Judaism and I would be her ‘guide’   I wonder if she picked up the funny kind of segregation that went on.

I went for food before my table was called.  And sat and ate, letting the others wait, if they wanted.  I am alone, so I don’t have to pretend there are people I must please.

As the congregation’s power pack doesn’t like me, or have use for me, I don’t have to play to the audience.  I can continue my solitary existence as happened the first months of my foray into Beth Shalom.

Not being hooked into a crew, not being part of anyone’s fantasy world may spotlight my singularity, but it is honest.  And sometimes honest is good.

To get home I tried to call my cab driver, he didn’t answer, but I got a lift from Courtney and it was fine.

It had been one of those strange moments in time in which I recalled my past, how we did Pesach when I was a child, how these people do it now, and I think, next year, I’ll go to Mobay and do it with Chabad.


As The Shul Turns — Retrospect



When I first entered Beth Shalom it was uncomfortable.   Old time failures enjoying the last rags of their prestige by parading around as if owning special grace.

Some were racist, some down right nasty, but their power lasted long enough to be seen, documented, and their disappearance, blessed.

Pharaoh owned it all, he was in charge of everything.  A pompous old fart, married to a once pretty schksa, his hiring of Crazy Guy as the Rabbi, without due diligence, legal advice, or common sense, turned everyone against him.

People hated him previously, but he was so powerful, (or seemed to be) that they kept silent.  Then, when C.G. proved to be what he was, a Flat Foot New York hustler, he tumbled, and took Pharaoh, his schksa, who was now bent and ugly, with him.

Hand Puppet, a stupid guy, his half brother, joined him.  Along with his wife.

Buddah, Old Dawg and Actress lost all their power.  Buddah just a silent ole man, Old Dawg missing, (no doubt in an institution) and Actress, ignored.

Ratty returned to the pulpit, along with Mike Molock, and Ratty’s sister, assisted by the new President, a cousin of Mike.

With Shorty and Caleb gone, Le Stat absent, a few old stalwarts dead, there is a new breeze blowing through the Shul.

I arrive with K and we are the cynosure.  We speak to people, who speak with us, and a sense of belonging fills me.