My favorite aspect of the Borat character is his antisemitism. Naturally, my appreciation of this relies on the knowledge that Sacha Baron Cohen is Jewish. And the more Jewish I feel, the more I feel at liberty to mock Jewishness. Like Woody Allen and Lenny Bruce, Sacha Baron Cohen is allowed to approach antisemitism in ways we wouldn’t tolerate from a non-Jew.

The other day, I was amazed to hear the British headmaster of the elite London boys school where Baron Cohen was a student, boasting on NPR about the school’s large population of “Jewish Boys.” Lord Jesus! In 2006, a sophisticated Brit can still regard “Jewish” as a special category! No wonder Sacha Baron Cohen is so savage about this subject!

I have a friend who has learned to try not to use the word “Jewish” to describe former girlfriends. He knows I will scream “Jewish?!?” and he knows where that leads.

A week after seeing the Borat movie, I attended a bar mitzvah, only the second one I’ve ever been to. It was full of ritual and tradition that I can only describe as lovely and moving. But the spirit of Borat hovered over the proceedings. Nothing could shake my sense of seeing Jews as an outsider, even as I felt a rare connection to my ancestors.

Jews! They are just so Jewish! My grandma used to stuff her handbag with packets of saltine crackers whenever we went out to eat. If she heard that someone was sick, she couldn’t get enough details. She would always ask, “What is the doctor’s name?” meaning “Is he Jewish?”

At the bar mitzvah, the Rabbi described how the torah he was using was hundreds of years old, and had been preserved by the Nazis to use in a museum of Jewish Icons. Silly Nazis! This story and all the biblical crap about Moses and Abraham helped to remind me how much the world hates Jews. And that, of course, made me that much happier about being Jewish.

As long as some upper class British guy is still commending his school for accepting “Jewish Boys,” Borat will have a mission to accomplish. Thank god the Jews run Hollywood and the media!

~

*originally posted in 2006

Few things are more compelling to me than a heated debate over What Constitutes Art.   A recent controversy surrounding Sarah Silverman also offers a quandary about ethics.

Ms. Silverman was invited to speak at the prestigious TED conference this year. Her “presentation” was so offensive to the man who curates the event (Chris Anderson) that he tweeted an apology for her “godawful” material and has since elected not to post her presentation online. Co-founder of AOL Steve Chase also tweeted that Silverman was an inappropriate choice for TED. Silverman came back with some tweeted insults of her own.

At issue, apparently, is Ms. Silverman’s repeated use of the word “retarded.” However, according to reports, she also sang a song about penises.

If only we could see a video of the actual performance! But since we can’t, we are left with some hypothetical questions.

First, I must admit that I fucking hate Sarah Silverman. Hate as in HATE. I don’t think it’s because she’s shocking. I think it’s her delivery, along with her face and mannerisms. I have laughed my head off to Larry David‘s comedic take on incest, racism, and the Holocaust. He has made fun of every disability I can think of, and I laughed because he’s so funny. Therefore, I can’t pretend that some subjects are sacrosanct.

Should Chris Anderson apologize to Ms. Silverman for publicly denouncing her performance? Should he post it online even if he finds it offensive? Does TED have an obligation to post it if it posts other speakers who appeared at the conference?

Should Ms. Silverman take into consideration the type of audience she is addressing, i.e. people who are gathered to hear about ideas? Or should she be applauded for daring to shock them? Is something Art because it is shocking? Is it always laudable to challenge taboos? If not, why not?

You can go here to watch Ms Silverman defend herself to Bill Maher.

I don’t know why anyone wants to hear Ms. Silverman say penis, vagina, and asshole with the smugness of a six year old who has just learned the power of swearing. If you think she’s a comic genius, you are certainly in good company. To my ears, she is nails on a chalkboard.

Here’s another question I just thought of: Would Silverman be funny if she couldn’t rely on “bad” words for effect?

Jump right in!