Auntie’s Revelation

All my neighbors in Golders Green and all the ladies at the North West London Wizo social club asked me yesterday: ‘Auntie Ziona, why do you do it, why a blog, why now, what happened, are you going meshige? They, God bless them, thought that we may have encountered a sudden illness in the family, so I try raise money on line. I don’t know what is it with our people. They always think money.

I told my friends in Wizo it recently occurred to me that what the people of Isroel need now is a mother, a woman figure, a 21st century prophet Deborah. Not a military veteran warrior like Sharoin, Rabin or Shimshoin der Giber, but a woman with big Jewish kitchen and a pair of enormous white bazookas! A female stature who spreads love, a person who grew up between boiling pots of Jewish dishes, an elder Jewess who knows how to assemble the entire Jewish people and its lost sons around a single big cosmic table. What we need is a new Golda Meir, a woman who knows how to turn a chicken into an aspirin, a woman who knows how to turn her 30 year old infantile son into a leading world heart surgeon. And guess what, three nights ago I realised that I am that woman! In the middle of the night, a gorgeous Ashkenazi angel appeared to me when I was fast asleep. He was flying in circles between our house and Bloom Delicatessen. I could see his beautiful white wings with the blue stars in between the anti-tank rockets and his armpits. He didn’t have to land or say a thing. The message was clear: I am the woman. Auntie Ziona is going to be the saver of the People of Isroel.

First thing in the morning, even before I made Maza balls for Pesach, I called my nephew Mony Gripstein who lives in Brighton. You ask why I called him rather than Lord Levy or David Abrahams. So here is my answer. I called him in spite of his horrendous reputation and in spite of his, how to say it, unlawful past. I called him because for me he is a Jewish progressive revolutionary Robin Hood. Except just a few minor differences. Robin Hood pinched from the rich and gave to the poor, Mony’le pinched from the poor and gave to himself.

I called Mony’le because deep in his heart he is a Jew like all of us, and like all of us he relentlessly fights the haters of Isroel. And guess what, Mony’le didn’t ask questions, he took the bus first, because he doesn’t have a car and the train is too expensive. He schlepped all the way to Golders Green. He took me to this Appleboim Macintoyesh centre in Brent Cross and bought me this beautiful white machine which I call Jewish Powermac. Mony’le promised me that though all the Appleboim computers are made in China by little yellow Maoist goyim, they are perfectly kosher cos the knowledge comes from Intel Isroel. To make a long story short, he said that should I feel completely Jewishly safe between Beijing and Jerusalem.

Mony’le was sitting with me and showed me how to switch it on. Just to keep him happy I served him with some small appetizers: rogalch, chopped liver, soup with maza balls, borsht with yogurt and apple shtrudle with cream. He ate everything except the soup, because the Maza came from Isroel and Tony’le supports the boycott of Isroeli products. It is very clever of Tony, because it makes the Goyims believe that not all Jews are bad. I tell you, the Kosher diet of the Jewish Marxists is even more complicated than the frumers of Stanford Hill.

Mony’le didn’t waste time, he took me for a long journey into this wonderful world called internet that was of course invented by our people in Tel Aviv scientific park for the benefit of humanity. And he then took me to see all these anti-Simone horrible specimens such as this Noam Chopsky and Norman Finkelstein, Isroel Shamir and Marsheimer, and Jeff Blankfort and Paul Eoisen who I know since he was a little baby. I tell you, this Eoisen always had a big problem, he was always too honest and genuine. He could never be an ordinary tribal Jew in million years.

And then, guess what, Mony’le took me to see this Klezmer musician whom he hates, Axmen or Yatsman whatever his name is, we saw him on youtube. I tell you, the way he blows his trumete, my loins were shaking in my lower belly. I tell you, for a second I wished this Axman was my nephew rather than Mony’le. One look at his eyes, and I knew he would love my Maza balls. I thought of him coming over to eat my gefilthe. But then I learned from Mony’le that this Axman is a self-hater and ex-Jew, and he mixes with Nazis and he is a lost man in general. And if this is not enough, this horrible Axman is not impressed with Jewish Radicals either. He says that Marxist Jews are there to trick the Goyim. What can I say, this trumpeter is no stupid. He may be right about that one but why is he sharing the truth with the Goyim?

Before Mony’le left, he sat with me and set this site that looks exactly like his.

I am the Auntie for all the Jewish people around the world. For the self lovers, and the Zionists, and the Religious, and the orthodox and the semi-orthodox, and the reforms. But I am as well the auntie for the self-haters. I am the Auntie of our lost Jewish tribe: for the Jewish Bolsheviks, and the Jewish cosmopolitans and the Jewish atheists and the Jewish anti-Zionists. I am their Auntie because we are one people made and one blood, and we are all united by hatred, and loath to those who do not accept us for who we are and what we are.

Here is my word: Give me a year and I will bring all of us together even before Rosh Ashana.

And guess what, if I am as clever as I pretend to be, I promise to bring back the Auntie Simones: The Chomskys, the Shamirs, the Eoisen, the Axmans, Jesus, Spinoize and hopefully Jimmy Cunter or whatever you call him. We are one people made and of one blood, and I will bring us all together.

As Mony Gripstein says

We are all United Against Racism