I’m not anti-Semetic. But..

by Pseud O'Nym

..I don’t hate all Jews. I just hate one Jew. My partner.

Oh, don’t think she’s unaware of this fact. I tell her this all this all the time. Basically, to hate and not to tell her often, well, what would the point of that? She’ll sometimes say to me that the day she met me was the worst day of her life. To which I reply – thanks Homer- ‘the worst day of your life so far.’ Because to my mind, to fully commit to an undertaking of this magnitude, you’ve got to be in it for the long haul, you’ve got to be prepared put the time in, to be ever vigilant, to play the long game. Except that this isn’t a game, it’s more like a kind of constantly evolving sadistic improvisation on the biggest stage of all.

Or else, it’s a bit like wine or that smelly French cheese that she likes, except that they mature with age and I, well, I’m a bit like “The Fly’ – “You’re getting worse.” “No, I’m getting better.” I’ve only known her for 30 years, so I think I’ve long way to go yet.

Don’t be thinking this is all one sided, either. Lest you’re tempted to call someone, just let me point out that whilst she has stated many times that she’d wade through vomit for me, she won’t make the tiny 45 minute drive across London to see me.

I know! How selfish! Right?

I worked out today that that it was a month yesterday since I last saw her. Pretty soon all the insults I’ve been saving up especially for her will go off and I can’t have them go off inside me! And they’re not just your common or garden insult either. Oh no! That’s too easy, too lazy, and too not me. The long haul I mentioned earlier? That’s how you create bespoke insults. One’s that’d be utterly meaningless to anyone else, but to her, to her, oh yes! And bespoke insults keep on re-inventing themselves, rejuvenating and being re-incarnated, like a once mighty football team dropping down the league tables and finally becoming non-league and forgotten about. Until she makes the schoolgirl error of reminding me of it and bingo! It’s back in the Champions League of insults

Many times she’s said “Don’t say that, I hate it when you say that’ and I reply “When, in all the years you’ve known me, have you ever said that to me and I’ve gone ‘Right, I won’t say it again.’ Apart from never?”

I don’t hate all Jews for the simple reason that hating any one group of people because of some arbitrary factor that has no bearing on the character whatsoever is patently absurd. The fact that so many do is proof of just how many idiots there are, living among us, looking, sounding and behaving just like us, but fucking idiots nonetheless. By all means hate someone, but hate them because of some deeply personal characteristic, something unique to them, not something out of their control. A Jew can’t help being a Jew anymore than someone can choose the colour of their skin, or sexual preference, but someone can choose what opinions they have, and how they express them,  and a whole range of other things besides. The thing is, the reasons you hate someone should be unique to them and no-one else.

So no, I don’t hate all Jews. I just hate one Jew.

Although nowhere nearly as much as she hates me, she says.