Yussel Rotten, The Punk Rabbi
by Dean Borok
We take you now to the Williamsburg, Brooklyn, headquarters of Yussel Rotten, the Punk Rock Rabbi, otherwise known as the Bedford Avenue Laundromat
“Brothers and Sisters, thank you coming to our first meeting here tonight. I’ll be honest witch yez, when the American Jewish Community first contacted me in BOGOTA, where I was (pppffffffzzz hack hack) writing a history of the Columbian Jewish Community, and asked me to take on this assignment, I had my doubts!!! 'Yussel,' I sez to myself, 'is this really your big chance to break into the bigtime, or was it just a false start, like when I invented the Yassar Arafat Doll (It Walks, It Talks, It Blows Itself Up)? Or when I tried to sue Hosni Mubarak for back wages for building the pyramids? Or was I really gonna see my name in lights – Yussel Rotten gets down with the Talmud!’
“I went into the mountains of Columbia with just my dog, my faithful Columbian guide, Juan Valdez, and a rolled-up ten peso note, and I (snnnnoooorrrrrrt!) meditated for forty days and forty nights. And one night a bush began to burn! As I stood there (inhaling the smoke), HE came to me, as in a dream. ‘Yussel, you have been called! Go forth into the streets of New York City and bring me back the Children of Israel, male, female and, er, whatever else. In return, I will grant you Life, Good Health and (fffffttttttt!) the baaaaddest shit I grow in the Garden of Eden, baby!’ Well, brothers and sisters, I am not an ordained rabbi with a degree from the Mel Brooks College of Rabbinical Knowledge for nothing!!! I hocked my gold Rolex and caught the first jet back to Miami.
“Now before I get into a heavy rap witch yez about the spiritual goals for this organization, I wanna take a coupla minutes and talk to yez about the fuel for this organization, and I’m not talkin’ to yez about crude Arab oil, or Iranian donkey shit! I mean Money. Gelt. Green Stuff. Cabbage. Moooolah! If we’re gonna win back the people on the street, we got to show some class. We need some Cadillacs! And not just the little jive-ass little compact models that the goyim are driving around! We need some BIG, SILVER and RED jobs like Phil Silvers and Harry Cohen like to drive. Show the people on the street that if they come back to the God of Israel, they won’t have to walk anymore!
Now where we gonna get money for these gunboats, you’re askin’ yourselves! Well, I’ll tell you where! From our exclusive collection of Yussel Rotten’s Religious Novelty Paraphenalia Supply House in Babylon, Long Island, that’s where! Lookit what I got here: ‘Two Jews Blues’ by Mike Bloomfield and Al Kooper, ‘Kinky Friedman and the Texas Jewboys Sing 20 Country Passover Favorites!’ And check out this little beauty: The Walk-Me-Talk-Me-Kiss-Me-In-The-Dark Combination Mazuzah Beer Bottle Opener and Roach Clip! WE SHOULD RAKE IN MILLIONS WITH THIS COOL SHIT!!!!
But man doth not live by bread alone, Brothers and Sisters, and that’s why we are here tonight. We are here to bring back the Children of the Nation of Israel who have strayed! Who are shooting dope! Who are doing five to ten in Allentown for securities fraud! Who are selling phony aluminum siding jobs to Guyanese immigrants on the West Side of Chicago! The Messiah is coming soon. He may be here now (or he may be in East Orange, New Jersey). He may be eight feet tall (or he may be five-feet-two). He may wear sandals (or he may wear Calvin Klein stretch jeans with the tight crotch). But I’m gonna tell you sumbiches one thing right now, and you can take this one to the bank with you
It Ain’t George Fuckin’ Steinbrenner!!!
It ain’t Bloomberg, either! Maybe it’s Matsui. After all, who ever heard of a six-foot Jap who hits homeruns? Maybe it’s Contreras, because Steinbrenner paid him forty million bucks and he can’t pitch for shit!
Anyway, how the fuck should I know? That’s not my job. I’m just here to tell you to go forth and bring me back the Lost Tribe of Israel. And don’t forget to sell some roach clips.
See you all next week.