Kosher Eucharist / יוקאריסט כשר

Yeah, so neither of us have posted in awhile. I’ve been busy with a number of things, chiefest among them being in pain.

You see, during Chris’ last weekend here in the Holy Land, we rented a car with noted clubber of baby seals Mobius and headed north. During the last day of our misadventure, we made a stop at Har Megiddo, frequent ancient battleground and reputed location of the coming ultimate battle between Good and Evil at the End of Days.

So naturally, with one of us being a Child of Israel, and the other numbered among that great horde of theological Johnny-come-latelys, it was decided that we would battle to the death at the very pinnacle of the Megiddo tel.

Of course, since God is on my side, I quickly took the lead. But then my opponent, in an unprovoked display of violence calling to mind atrocities from Cordoba to Kishinev, kicked me as hard as he could in the shin with his shitkicker cowboy boot.

Now, almost a week and a half later, my shin is still bruised and swollen, speckled with scabs where blood welled through the wound, rendering walking for more than a few minutes at a time an unpleasant proposition at best. I would go get it checked out by a doctor and maybe score some opiates, but since I have neither money nor health insurance, I’m just going to suffer through the healing process without medical expertise or the sweet release of drugs.

Naturally, my thoughts turned to revenge for this undeserved crippling. So, in keeping with the loftiest of Judaism’s moral teachings, I decided that it would only be fair to attempt to inflict the same kind of pain upon my tormentor.

So I did what I do best. I made a voodoo doll.

I figured four needles in the shin would be a logical starting point. But to really bring home the pain, there’s nothing like a little fire.

You feel that, Mr. Kicky-Pants?!