'P' is for 'Passover"

WARNING: The following could be considered wildly irreverent.  Could be?  Please accept my apologies in advance.  I just hope that Hell has visiting hours so you can come see me.

 

     As a test of how much I learned in school, I’m not going to consult Google, the entrails of an owl, or Mr. Fineman from across the street. 

     I’m also too lazy to open a book.

     Since it's Good Friday (as opposed to Holy Thursday, Okay Wednesday, So-So Tuesday, Crappy Monday), a good lot of you are preparing for Easter, which is observed the...let me see if I have this straight... the first Sunday after the full moon which occurs after the spring equinox (or whenever the calendar says).

  It's a big deal to Christians.  Bigger than Canadian Thanksgiving, if you can believe it.

     But did you know (okay most do), that Jesus was a rabbi?  That He, along with His followers, was in Jerusalem to celebrate Passover, one of the most sacred days of the Jewish calendar? No, he wasn't Catholic, despite what Sister Mary Gregory of the Titanium Yardstick tried to beat into you.

"What?  No ham sandwiches?  I was told there'd be ham sandwiches."

     What some of my fellow refugees from the Penguin Academy may not know, the 'Last Supper' was, in fact a Passover Seder.

     Despite what Cecil B. De Mille would have you believe, The Ten Commandments, while playing on ABC annually for many years on Easter Night (God knows-no pun intended-when it's on now) is not an Easter movie.

     King of Kings?  Yeah.  The Robe?  Okay.  Ben-Hur?  Sure.  Ben Gay?  Now you're being silly.

     But, The Ten Commandments?  Oy.     

     Passover is a Jewish (I think we've already covered that) celebration which commemorates the exodus (so THAT explains the book) of the Hebrews from Egypt, way back when Keith Richards and Joe Biden were teenagers.

     They were led by Charlton Heston, who if he’d only kept his trap shut, could have eventually become Pharaoh (or at least Vice-Pharaoh) and freed the Hebrew slaves.  Along the way, he could also have bagged the hot Nefertiri (not to be confused with ‘Nefertiti.’  Who was in The Mummy.  But, she was hot, too).  Then, Ramses (aka Yul Brynner), inventor of the prophylactic, wouldn’t have donned the royal loincloth and bedded Anne Baxter.

One of my favorite pictures. 
Yeah, this isn't photoshopped.

 

    But, noooooo, Moses just had to schlep out into the desert, raise some sheep, marry Lily Munster, open the Midian chapter of the NRA, and meet God (who did not look like George Burns).

     Moses, heeding a divine call, decided to return to Egypt.  Imagine Ramses’ chagrin when the “Big Mo” barged in, waved his stick around (double entendre intended), and ordered his BFF, Aaron, to turn goats into chickens.  Or grass stains into dazzling whites.

"Just had to interrupt the meeting of the Pyramid Planning Commission, didn't you?"

     Moses warned that a series of plagues would be visited on Egypt: frogs, locusts, boils (eww), bloody water, the Pelosi Pox, irritable bowel syndrome (double eww),  etc.  Each were meant to convince Yul Pharaoh to “let the people go.”

 

The "Plague of Kathy Griffin" was considered too much. 
Even for the Egyptians.

     They were actually starting to work, too, until Ramses looked at the latest Gallup poll numbers.  Figuring he had to satisfy his “pro-slavery” base, his heart was hardened and he called the whole deal off.

     Well, Moses eventually had enough of this crap.  He told Ramses that the first-born of Egypt would be slain in punishment for enslaving his people.  This included (cue dramatic music) the Pharaoh’s own son!

     The Hebrews, feeling pretty damned cocky, painted goat (or sheep?) blood over their doors.  They felt quite safe that death would “pass” them “over.”  (Get it now?).  Mostly because Death got wicked skeeved at the sight of blood.

     So, they hung out while the “Destroyer” (depicted by a red cloud.  Special effects were kinda cheesy back then.  After all, "Industrial Light and Magic" hadn't been invented yet) went from door to door seeking out Egyptians who won a lottery they hadn't reckoned on. 

     The Hebrews sang songs, prayed prayers, played “Old Testament Yahtzee”, and ate unleavened bread called "matzah" (because Dominos stopped delivering at 10).

I swear, all that singing and chanting made me root for the Egyptians.

     When the day dawned and Ramses saw the mess (“Now, we’ll never get that blood out!”), he ordered Moses to pack up his shit and get the hell out.

     NOTE:  Ramses may not have said ‘shit.’

     So, Moses convinced everybody to pack their toothbrushes and a change of underwear (“So, where is it we’re going, Mr. Fancy Pants Big Shot?”).  He wasn’t exactly sure where, though.  Because, unfortunately, Aaron had turned his map into an origami whooping crane.

     Bottom line, the Hebrews finally left Egypt.  Along the way, the Egyptian Army went for a one-way dip in the Red Sea, Edward G. Robinson talked a lot of smack, Aaron was forced to make some seriously effed-up looking golden calf, they all got jiggy with their bad selves at the base of Mount Sinai, Moses saw a wicked cool light show on the mountain, and had bread fall out of the sky for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. 

"So, you think maybe we could get a nice brisket, instead?"

     They were finally allowed to enter the Promised Land after 40 years (the prior tenants had a long-term lease).

     Since I’m sure I've put you to sleep by now, let me finish by saying that Moses wasn’t even allowed to enter with the rest of his people (he didn’t get his wrist stamped). 

     He had to watch while John Derek Joshua led his people into...Canaan?  At any rate, someplace the Iranians would get all hacked off about eventually.

     I think it had something to do with smacking a rock to get water.  Which was a mistake, apparently.

"After all that. too.  What a screw job."

    

     Because, as we all know, paper, not water, covers rock.

     Now, since I'm probably in hot water with Christians, Jews, and Muslims, I'd better start packing for Purgatory.

     I'm sure I'll be spending a lot of time there.

     At least that's what Sister Mary Gregory said.

"Right you are, cheeky boyo."*

*Yes, I know I used the same picture twice in one post.  Sue me.