Episode Report Card Deborah: B+ | Grade It Now! YOU GRADE IT Jew Of Arcadia
By Deborah | Season 2 | Episode 10 | Aired on 11.25.2004
Meanwhile, Friedman and Luke are shopping at Torahs 'n' Tallits (right across the street from Qur'ans 'n' Qitsch, and around the corner from Bibles 'n' Bibelots) for a bat mitzvah gift for Grace. Man, I love religious stores. I mean, I have a really weird thing for them. It's my idea of a fun and interesting day to check out religious stores. Doesn't matter which religion, though I'm exceptionally fond of Judaica stores. Perhaps I should keep that under my yarmulke, since I finally converted to Islam three weeks ago. (Yes, really.) Anyway, I've got this Judaica catalogue right here, and I'm thinking Grace might like this Personalized Hebrew Torah in Lucite. Or maybe not. Or how about this T-shirt that says, "AMERICA DON'T WORRY / ISRAEL IS BEHIND YOU" with a picture of a Kfir fighter plane? Mmm, maybe not so much. Acrylic bagel holder? Too impersonal. Chocolate Topographical Map of Israel? Mmm…Galileecious. How about a shofar? She could make a joyful noise unto the Lord. Or just a really excellent racket at the next political protest she attends. Can of Mashuga Nuts? They're kosher-dairy! I've got it: this lovely My Bat Mitzvah Keepsake Journal. "Dear Keepsake Journal: Well, I got through it without killing anybody…though really, who would convict me for Friedman? I bet people would be lining up to help me hide the body…" Friedman's extolling the virtues of a particular tallit (prayer shawl): "Okay, this one's pretty nifty. It's got Jerusalem embroidered on it. Matching kippah. Smoking hot." He dons the kippah, putting the lie to the "smoking hot" part. Hey, if Luke doesn't find anything he likes in this store, he could go online. (Isn't that the best store name ever?) Luke, unsure: "People really give these?" Friedman: "I got five." Luke: "And you like them?" Friedman: "Like them? They're bar mitzvah presents. Nobody likes them. They simply exist, like Stonehenge." Hee. Friedman sighs and wanders over to a display of silver goods: "Consider the candlestick: A popular Shabbat favourite." To Luke's uncertain look, Friedman explains, "Shabbat: the lighting of the candles, Friday night…" Luke: "She doesn't do that." Friedman: "Then she can use it to kill Colonel Mustard in the library." Ha! Friedman tells him he's overthinking it. Luke? Really? Luke says he can't just give her some random thing: "I should give her something that when she looks at it, she thinks of me." Give her a really awesome geode, dude, one of those huge suckers lined with amethyst. Or a really rare Beanie Baby. Luke adds, "Even when she's ninety." Friedman: "There's always the giant sea turtle."
Back at the bookstore, and Joan actually seems to be working. And whistling. Whistling bugs me. And don't even get me started on that "whistle while you work" crap. That makes me want to take a pipe wrench to your puckered lips. Singing is fine, humming is fine. Air guitar, break-dancing, shaking your booty to the universal funk? All fine. No whistling. And no mime. End. Of. Story. Wait: No knuckle-cracking, either. All right, now I'm done. Officious Hall Monitor God comes in to put up some posters for a recycling festival. Sounds like a gas. Maybe I should have called her Postering God. Joan wonders if the Almighty Creator can't take a break: "Come on, who's gonna yell at you?" Officious Hall Monitor God: "Well, what can I say? Lots to do, lots to do." Joan: "Well, you don't have to worry about me. Because I'm doing just great, aren't I?" God nods, as she picks up a Styrofoam coffee cup. "I so helped Grace out with her dress. She was gonna wear this seriously nasty green that was totally wrong for her skin tone. I am all over this bat mitzvah thing." Officious Hall Monitor God gives Joan grief for the Styrofoam cup: "You know plutonium decomposes quicker than these? Sometimes I think all I do is ask humanity to clean up its room." And all humanity does is sit there looking blank, eating chips…or at best, kicking the mess under the bed. Joan: "Shouldn't God listen?" She claims she multitasks: "If I didn't, well…you wouldn't want to know." Okay, not loving Officious Hall Monitor God. Very little sparkle and personality there. I can't tell if it's the writing or the actor, but…no love. Joan: "You know, I knew nothing about Judaism before. I don't think I could ever learn Hebrew, especially not while I'm taking French." Oh, Joan. You could if you set your mind to it. I taught myself the Hebrew alphabet in a couple of days. You could probably manage it in…say, six months. The Avatar Whose Name I'm Tired Of Typing says, "Try being Hindu and learning Sanskrit." Yeah, I'm still working on that one. (The Sanskrit, not the Hindu. You think I want Frink's parents to have a stroke?) We finally come to the point of all this blather: Joan asks, "Why did you make so many religions, anyway? I mean, wouldn't it be easier if everybody had the same one?" I can feel the audience waiting for this answer. God replies, "Well, there's so many different people. They all need a different way of relating to me, and that's what religions are -- different ways to share the same truth." Frink: "Blasphemer." Well, it's as good and as ecumenical an answer as you're probably going to get from network television. Joan: "And…the…truth…is…?" The truth, Joanie, is that Officious Hall Monitor God is going to answer your question by leaving now. Joan: "Come on, I helped Grace. Cut me some slack! Just one answer." She just gets that weird backward Godwave.