Mightier Than The Pen

Making The World A Bitter Place

Thou Shalt Make the Chocolate Bunny One Cubit Tall…

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I think I know what’s missing in mainstream western culture: Talmudic debate.

Imagine, if you will, earnest discussions of how many cubits tall your Christmas tree must be in order for your family to discharge its obligation: you wouldn’t want to discover, the morning after, that you’ve got to rewrap all the gifts and give it another go, because you went and skimped on the height; you also wouldn’t want to discover that you’ve used an invalid species of conifer – or, heaven forbid, a deciduous – rendering the whole ritual an exercise in yuletide futility; and you certainly wouldn’t want to have to track down a competent authority, whoever the hell that might be, to rule on whether you have fulfilled the minimum requirements for the proper volume or number of gift items placed under the tree, especially so late at night. Then, of course, since the tree had been used in the fulfillment of a holy rite, you couldn’t dispose of it any which way after the holiday; you’d have to respect its once-sacred status by only using the needles for dignified purposes, its wood for honorable use.

This thought occurred to me as I chowed down on surplus Easter bunny chocolates this evening – and by the way, I love the fact that the package bears the prominent mark of kosher certification. If there’s one market you definitely want to tap with Easter chocolates, it’s religious Jews. I bet they find the same crappy Hershey’s chocolate somehow more appealing when it appears in the guise of flagrantly idolatrous, pagan imagery that their sources constantly depict as abominably disgusting.

I don’t mean that we need more arcane regulations of life’s minutiae. Lord knows the various layers of government and governmental agencies provide more than enough. But if you’re going to live life inspired by God, then by God apply Godly wisdom to every situation. If, say, you’re going to the movies, you’d need to consult the relevant tractate, where you would find the sages holding forth on the technicalities, of course – how many times must one say, “Excuse me,” upon attempting to return to one’s seat in the middle of a row; whether a single IMAX film can serve in place of two regular films – but also on the thematic, the epic, the moral: what sort of person seeks out only G-rated films; whether those who spill their Cokes have a place in heaven; why a person must strive to see at least three movies with Anthony Hopkins in a central role before one ascends to those great coming attractions in the sky.

But back to the Easter chocolates: is there a minimum quantity one must consume on the appointed day, within an allotted time frame? Must one bite the ears off the bunny first, or may one devour the beast feet first? And, since rabbits are one of the unclean species delineated in Leviticus and Deuteronomy, how does one cleanse himself of the contamination that must surely result from the indulgence – does mere immersion in a ritual bath suffice, or must one undergo a period of quarantine, after which one is sprinkled in cocoa powder? Our current lore is silent on these important matters of ritual, so there’s no way to know whether it’s been done right.

So it’s time to develop procedures. Let me know when you’ve done so. I’ll be here, trying to figure out where the chocolate bunny’s trachea and windpipe would be so I can slaughter it properly.

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Written by Thag

May 17, 2011 at 10:35 pm

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