the Gibsonian male...
Since the blogosphere rages now with this crucial question, What chapter and from which Testament --
mind you, in my humble opinion there is only one Testament, the other is plain Bible --
So the question is, from where will the Gibsonian Male pick the theme of his next grand opera?
Forgive my long introduction, but I'm kind of shy.
OK. Let me say just this:
On this twice Holly day (Purim & Woman's Day), I cannot think of a better selection than the good old Meggilatt Esther!
Megillat Esther, for the information of the uninitiated, is the true love story not yet told but re-told each Purim - of King Ahashverosh the decadently benevolent tyrant, Femme Fatal Queen Esther and her scheming pimp of an uncle Mordechay, and how one woman's body saved the Jewish people, including me and Joseph, from another anti-Christ (namely Hamman the Wicked), and how this sweet man - who only wanted all Jews to be killed and Jewdaism annihilated - how much fun it was when he was carried throughout the streets of Shooshan the Capital City with a big ad all around his belly and behind, and how he never shed a tear, not even when left hanging, except this endlessly repeated mantra: "I only followed God's Orders to the letter."
Yet why give away the secret, Why not make myself this film? Hey, who volunteers for what role? Don't worry about the money - -
Wait, wait, somebody is knocking on my door. Should I open it? Is he the bearer of the first million or another man whose love I have not returned?
Should I hide the kitchen knife under the mattress?
Sorry it was just a messenger with a bunch of flowers, I won't touch it with a fingernail - it might conceal Jesus knows what thorns.
You see, I too can be a film director. What is the film industry if not a fun way to make money via the Dolorosa of manipulating primeval instincts, tear ducts, immortal stereotypes?
Yes, Purim! I never thought there could be a better day to celebrate Woman's Day.
Purim "is good enough and will suffice", as Robert Frost said on Ice.
As a proof, "let me share with you" (a North American euphemism) yesterday's miracles in Tel-Aviv:
Everywhere, but everywhere I was greeted by men in black attire wearing colorful wigs on their heads:
"Come to hear the Megillat Esther being read!"
Usually only men are invited to a minyan of prayer.
Said I in genuine astonishment. "Is it to glorify Woman's Day, or are you Reform?
Anyway I don't fancy Ahashverosh, Too fat."
He ran to search for other women.
Of course, who comes to a mall to hear the Megillah?
Don't think for a moment that I was writing this post since I threatened some of you with it's arrival a couple of hours ago.
Actually I was preparing a shakshooka, which in my eyes is the real food to celebrate Purim as Woman's Day.
It's from our region and not only more dietary than the Homentashen ("Hamman's Ears") cakes but chock-full with feminist symbols.
Also, eating a dead person's ears is not appealing. We had had and still are suffering because we just use to drink blood of Christian innocent babies come Passover.
This is how to celebrate correctly:
Cut a large fat onion into tiny pieces (remind me one day to tell you how Hundertwasser's Viennese girlfriend brought him onions as a gift because she heard that Jews love onions).
Onion symbolize tears, right? Fits like a glass shoe.
(You can avoid the tears by letting water run from the tap).
Fry the onions in a little olive oil, from Israel.
(You won't find much Palestinian olive oil as their trees tend to disappear from over there by day and by night for the time being and until the Messiah arrives and the Law of Return applies to the olive trees and branches).
Cut 12 or 24 ounces of organic tomatoes from Israel (do they grow tomatoes in Iraq?) into quarters, pile them on top of the onions and cover.
Meanwhile meditate on the meaning of tomatoes. What do they symbolize if not womanhood?
Not the once-a-month-up-to-a-certain-age thing, our film and lives must remain impeachably pure --
I was thinking of life as experienced by the battered, the molested, the killed and the murdered.
Now that your appetit is bon, go for the eggs. One will suffice for dietary reasons and symbol. Careful! Do not, by any means, do not scramble the egg. You should break it, yes, sorry for not mentioning, break it directly into the pan and all over the red, by now soft, tomatoes.
Now be careful. There is a female eye there, watching you!
Basil. It's sweet, it's green - exactly the state of virginhood so much worshipped by man ready to feed on it. Shredd and sprinkle all over (the basil), but only after you've turned off the fire.
... Assuming it was on.
Happy Woman's Day Purim!