Monthly Archives: December 2011

“Positive Reframe / End-of-the-Year Letters”


I’m a very negative person, so my therapist recommends this technique called “positive reframe” where you take a negative experience and find the positive in it.  For example, if you have fourth-stage cancer, you’re supposed to say –

You: “At least I’ve lost weight.  And hey, I’ll save a lot of money on haircuts!”

It’s hard to do, man.  I went on a date where the girl walked in and said –

Girl: “Ugh.  I just want to murder every single Asian driver.”

I was like –

Josh: “At least she’s ambitious.”

A policeman pulls me over, like –

Policeman: “Get out of the car!  You’re going to jail, buddy.”

I’m like –

Josh: “Well I don’t have to sleep at my mom’s tonight.  And he did call me ‘buddy.’  And someone might finally want to have sex with me.”

* * *

It’s much easier for me to find the negative in the positive.  Like, you know those end-of-the-year letters some families still send out?

Peppy voice: “Hey gang!  2011 was a great year for the Johnsons!”

And you’re just like –

You: “Ugh.  …fucking…kill yourself.”

I used to hate these letters, but now I look forward to them — because I’ve realized that every “brag” is just a positive reframe of a shitty event.  Just look for the subtext –

Card: “We had a lot more free time this year to relax.”
Subtext: “They got fired.”

Card: “We spent our whole summer mountain biking.”
Subtext: “They got fat.”

Card: “Our son picked up a few new hobbies.”
Subtext: “He’s gay.”

Card: “My husband stopped snoring.”
Subtext: “‘Cause he died.”

I actually knew someone who got raped last year.  Her letter said, “This past year held quite a few surprises!”

“Casting the Fat Girl”


I’m casting right now for this short film I wrote, and nothing makes me feel worse than some desperate, heavy-set actress coming in like –

Fat Girl: “Um, yes, I’ll be reading for the part of ‘Unattractive Chick.’  I’d also like to audition for ‘Fat Waste of Skin #6.’”

And then I gotta watch her channel Jabba the Hut, like –

Fat Girl: {trying to be gross} “What’s up, Tony?  I heard you were looking to lose your virginity.  I’m available.  Blaaaahhh…  I’m disgusting.”

And I’m just like –

Josh: “Uch, what is wrong with me?  I mean, ‘Blaaaahhh…  I’m disgusting?’  That’s such on-the-nose dialogue.”

* * *

And I’ve tried to change it, by the way.   I’m like, “Okay, maybe she’s not fat.  Maybe she’s really astute and comments on how the dinner reminds her of the scene from Dostoevsky’s Notes from Underground,” and then everyone’s like –

Everyone: {examining the script} “That’s interesting, Josh, except WHO THE HELL is Dostoevsky?”
Josh: {crossing off the script} “Okay, screw it.  She’s fat.”

That’s how all comedy works for me.  I start off writing jokes like –

Josh: “I read Kafka.” {sigh} “He gives me hope.”

– and when I get a confused response, I have to come out with something I know will work –

Josh: “So vaginas are weird…  Am I right?”

“Netflix”


Netflix tells me that I like “critically-acclaimed heartfelt fight-the-system movies with a strong female protagonist.”

My god, that’s specific.

Is this where we’re going now with movie genres?  I just imagine the last few movie rental stores trying to keep up, like –

Movie Rental Store Employee: “Yeah, you can find that under ‘Heartwarming comedies in which Steve Carrel learns how to be cool.’  It’s right next to ‘Slapstick comedies in which the humor derives from Kevin James’ being fat.’  Oh, and it’s right behind ‘Action-adventure comedies in which Will Smith says, ‘Ah hell naw!’ at least three times.”

“God/Santa”


INT. HOME – NIGHT

JOSH (7, uncharacteristically happy) adds ornaments to his family’s Hanukkah bush/Christmas tree.  SUSAN (37, motherly) enters to find her son humming.

Josh: “Hey Mom, you think Santa’s gonna bring me everything I asked for this year?”
Susan: “What did you ask for?”
Josh: “A Sega Genesis, more Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, the hardback version of The Brothers Karamazov…”
Susan: “Josh, I think you’re old enough now that I can tell you this.”
Josh: “Yeah?”
Susan: “Well…” {deep breath} “There is no Santa Claus.”
Josh: “W-what?”
Susan: “It’s just your father and I — well, mostly me.”
Josh: “You’re Santa Claus?”

She nods.

Josh: “Oh my God.” {thrilled} “My parents are Santa Claus!!”
Susan: “No.  Not like that.  I mean, your father and I buy the presents and put them under the Hanukkah bush at night.  Santa’s just a made up character.”

Josh stops putting up decorations, beyond shocked.

Josh: “I think I need to sit down.”

He moves to a couch.  Susan sits beside him.

Susan: “Are you okay?”
Josh: “Why would you do that to me?”
Susan: “Because it’s fun.”
Josh: “It’s fun to lie to your children?”
Susan: “No, it’s — you know, the idea of Santa Claus is fun.  And I just…didn’t want you to miss out on that.”
Josh: “But why would you tell me something magical exists if it doesn’t?”
Susan: “I don’t know, Josh.  It’s what parents do.”

A beat.

Josh: “So there’s no God either?”
Susan: “There might be.”
Josh: “It’s okay, Mom.  You can tell me.  I’m old enough now.”
Susan: “No, there really might be a God.  No one knows.”
Josh: “If there’s no Santa, there’s clearly no God.”
Susan: “Why do you say that?”
Josh: “He’s the same guy: keeps track of whether I’m naughty or nice, I ask him to grant wishes, they both have little helpers…”
Susan: “Well…”
Josh: “They both live in a place nobody’s ever seen.”
Susan: “Really — nobody knows if there’s a God.”
Josh: “Then how do you know there’s no Santa?”
Susan: “Because people just made him up to make kids feel better.”
Josh: “Like God.”

Susan hesitates, lost for words.

Josh: “So you’re Santa Claus?”
Susan: “Yeah.”
Josh: “Okay.”
Susan: “Are you okay?”
Josh: “I guess so.”

Susan hugs Josh.  Josh hugs her back, wiping tears from his eyes.

Susan: “I’m going to go food shopping.  You want to come?”
Josh: “No thanks.”
Susan: “You’ll be all right here by yourself?”
Josh: “I think so.”
Susan: “Okay.”

Susan stands up and exits the room.  After a moment, Josh moves back to the Hanukkah bush/Christmas tree.  He stares at it, then resumes adding ornaments.

“Hallmark”


EXT. SHACK – NIGHT

Snow falls on the rural landscape.  Harsh winds blow against the feeble walls.

CHYRON: “Hallmark Card Company Headquarters”

INT. SHACK

A makeshift office.  Tens of WORKERS sit around tables, their legs bouncing up and down with anxiety.  They sweat, surrounded by empty coffee cups.

One employee — we’ll call him TODD (late 30s) — looks at the room’s WHITEBOARD which reads –

CARDS COMPLETE: 99
CARDS TO CREATE: 1
DEADLINE: 12:00 a.m.

He stares up at the clock: 11:57 p.m.

Todd bites his bottom lip, shuffling through a stack of incomplete drawings –

– A pile of anthropomorphic rocks beside a Christmas tree.  It reads, “Have a rockin’ Christmas!”
– A severed foot protrudes from a giant glass of liquid.  It reads, “Leg Nog.”
– A card with a sad-looking dog in a Santa suit.  No caption.

He crumples them up into balls, throws them on the floor, and stares out the window.

The TICKING of the clock grows louder, forcing him to check: 11:58 p.m.

He scans the room: the other EMPLOYEES scribble furiously.

The clock TICK, TICK, TICKS.

He closes his eyes. Exhales.

Todd flips through a lined yellow notepad with a list of holiday items: tree, Santa suit, egg nog, presents, Xanax…

He crumples this up as well — a third ball — and throws it on the floor with the others.

11:59 p.m.

…and the clock keeps TICKING.

Todd throws his head onto the table.  He begins to SOB.

It’s over.

…but on the floor, he notices his balls of crumpled paper.

His eyes squint to see what he has inadvertently created: from his vantage point, it appears that the balls have created three separate snowmen — only the last of which having been created with the different, yellow paper.

Todd’s eyes widen.

He goes back to his pad of paper, drawing frantically, faster and faster until he stands up to declare –

Todd: “I got it.”

Everyone stops working.  All attention goes to Todd.

He takes a deep breath.

Todd: “On the front, we see three snowmen.  They all look the same — except one of them is wearing a funny-looking bow tie.”

Some sit up, intrigued; others shake their heads/roll their eyes dismissively.

Todd: “Stick with me here, stick with me.  On the inside, it says…” {long, dramatic pause} “‘There’s snowbody like you.’”

The clock hits 12:00 a.m.

Todd: {sotto} “Like ‘nobody.’”

A beat of contemplation.  Then…

Pencils drop.  Glances are exchanged.  And a slow clap begins.

As the room gives Todd a standing ovation, one man yells –

Man: “That’s a wrap on Christmas ‘08!”
Woman: “Way to go, Todd.”
Man: {pointing at Todd} “Hero.”

Todd wells up.  A single tear falls from his eye and we –

CUT TO BLACK.

“My Favorite Quote About the Holidays”


“Oh, the holidays…a time when people get together who normally don’t see each other for a reason.”

“The Rabbinical: Birth of a Cannibal Rabbi”


NOTE: My friend Adam Reich came up with this concept in film school and asked me to write a draft as a fake trailer. He later re-wrote it as a short film that I’ve heard is excellent. Still, because I enjoyed my version, too, I thought it was worth posting this week.

Happy Hanukkah.

* * *

EXT. STREET – NIGHT

Rain pours down into a puddle of water.

Doctor  (V.O.): “Mr. Lekter, I heard you were the victim of a hate crime last week.”
Lechter (V.O.): “Last week?  Try the last three thousand years.”

The water mixes with blood, turning red.

Lechter (V.O.): “And it’s not ‘Lekter.’”

A MATZO BALL splashes into the center of the puddle and –

HERSCHEL LECHTER (30s, payos) stares right at us, blood dripping from his long beard…

Lechter (V.O.): {making it sound more Jewish} “It’s Lechter.”

LIGHTING.

CUT TO BLACK.

INT. SYNAGOGUE – DAY

Lechter (V.O.): “I had finished my rabbinical tests a little early; so, I decided to give my famous Holocaust lecture…”

Lechter writes, “APOLOGIES SCHMOLOGIES” on a blackboard.

Lechter: “The way to rid evil in the world is to first rid evil in ourselves.”

INT. STAND-UP COMEDY CLUB – LATER

Lechter (V.O.): “Afterwards, I went to see my brother, Schlomo, perform.”

SCHLOMO (late 20s) stands on stage, speaking into the microphone.

Schlomo: “I think I have anti-Semitic turrets.  I was playing board games with some Jews.  I rolled five threes and yelled, ‘Nazi!’  I mean, ‘Hitler!  Santa Claus!  Mel Gibson!  Sales tax!  Happiness!!!’” {hits himself in the mouth to stop talking} “Ow…schwitz.”

The audience ROARS.  Lechter looks perturbed.

Lechter (V.O.): “And I met his shiksa girlfriend.”

LATER

Schlomo sits by Lechter in the audience.

Schlomo: “Watch out, Hersh.  This one’s got a rabbi fetish.”

SCHLOMO’S SHIKSA GIRLFRIEND (20s, blonde) suggestively wiggles her tongue at Lechter.  Lechter looks disturbed.

EXT. STREET – LATER

Lechter passes a man working a MEAT STAND.

Lechter (V.O.): “It was on my way out, however, …”
Meat Stand Guy: “Fresh meat!  Get your fresh meat right here.” {to Lechter} “What can I get you, my man?”
Lechter: “No meat for me, thanks.  We Orthodox Jews keep kosher.”
Meat Stand Guy: “Whatever, cheapskate.”

SKINHEADS drive by in a car with a CONFEDERATE FLAG on it. One yells –

Skinhead: “Hey Jew bag: go back to Palestine!”

– and HURLS a rock.  It hits Lechter right between the eyes.

QUICK FLASH FRAMES: Lechter spasming.  His BRAIN changing…

INT. DOCTOR’S OFFICE – NIGHT

Lechter stares at his MRI brain scan.  A DOCTOR explains –

Doctor: “You’ve suffered severe damage to the frontal lobe, the part of the brain responsible for impulse control and judgment.”

Lechter sits back, taking this in.

EXT. HOME – DAY

Lechter tries to hang the Mezuzah on his door.

Doctor (V.O.): “Any number of results may occur: increased irritability…”

It falls off. Lechter shudders with frustration.

INT. STAND-UP COMEDY CLUB – NIGHT

Schlomo performs.

Doctor (V.O.): “…a decrease in the ability to understand certain types of humor…”

Lechter’s the only one in the audience not laughing.

Doctor (V.O.): “…an increase in sexual urges…”

Again, the shiksa girlfriend licks her lips suggestively.

Doctor (V.O.): “…and, in some rare cases, …”

INT. DOCTOR’S OFFICE – SAME

Doctor: “…cannibalism.”

CUT TO BLACK.

INT. HOME – BEDROOM – NIGHT

Schlomo’s shiksa girlfriend exposes herself to Lechter, removing her panties.

Shiksa: “Eat me, Rabbi.”

His eyes widen.  He doesn’t see breasts; he sees BAGELS.

He opens his mouth — and he LUNGES at her.

QUICK SHOTS of CARNAGE.

Blood SPLATTERS on a STAR OF DAVID.

Lechter: {Jewish zombie sounds} “ARGH…HHARGH…HANUKKAH…RGHH…CHHHAALAH BREAD…RGHHH!”

INT. DOCTOR’S OFFICE – LATER

Lechter removes his hands (and some brain chunks) from the dead doctor’s cranium, raising them into the air…and then rolls the chunks of brain into balls, adds matzo meal and eggs, and throws them into a nearby pot of water.

Lechter (V.O.): “Stay kosher, Rabbi. Control yourself.”

MUSIC: “Hava Nagila” in an eerie, MINOR KEY.

EXT. STREET – NIGHT

The SKINHEADS harass a SEVEN-YEAR-OLD BOY with payos.

Skinhead: “You know, there’s a soda named after you.”
Seven-year-old boy: “Mordechai soda?”
Skinhead: “Squirt!”

They try to SLAM his head into a wall, but a HAND stops them.

Lechter pierces them with his blood red eyes –

Skinhead: “I-I-I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to –”
Lechter: “Apologies schmologies.”

– and opens his salivating mouth.

EXT. PARKING LOT – NIGHT

Lechter pays a VALET.

Lechter (V.O.): “Their snide remarks.”
Valet: “What’re you, ripping me off?”

Lechter turns around, and RIPS OFF the man’s arm.  The Valet SCREAMS.

EXT. MCDONALD’S – DAY

Lechter spots another RABBI eating a Big Mac — meat AND cheese.

Lechter (V.O.): “Their hypocrisy.”

Then he drinks MILK.  Lechter SALIVATES.

EXT. ANY ESTABLISHMENT – NIGHT

Lechter passes an EMPLOYEE at the door.

Lechter (V.O.): “Their ignorance.”
Lechter: “Shalom.”
Employee: “Bless you.”

Lechter turns his head around.

EXT. SUPERMARKET – DAY

Lechter (V.O.): “Their blatant prejudice.”

A LITTLE GIRL SCOUT in a Santa cap says –

Girl Scout: “Merry Christmas!”
Lechter: {looking vicious} “And…?”
Girl Scout: “…and a Happy New Year?”

Lechter SALIVATES.

INT. STAND-UP COMEDY CLUB – NIGHT

Lechter watches Schlomo, slams down a MENORAH for emphasis.

Lechter: “Judaism is NOT a punch line!!!”

He lunges at Schlomo.

CUT TO:

Lechter stands over SCHLOMO’S DEAD BODY.  Remorseful.

Lechter (V.O.): “I fear I have lost control.”

CUT TO BLACK.

INT. SYNAGOGUE – NIGHT

Herschel removes his yalmuka, looking up at the iconography.

Lechter (V.O.): “I have killed the ones I love.  God knows I have sinned against Him.”

CUT TO BLACK.

INT. HOME – NIGHT

Lechter examines himself in a mirror.

Lechter (V.O.): “There is only one way to stop this.  I must first rid evil in myself.”

FLASH FRAMES of previous CARNAGE build in intensity to –

Lechter devouring his own flesh.

CUT TO BLACK.

SILENCE.  Then –

INT. HOME – NIGHT

Two COPS pull back a sheet, revealing the MEAT STAND MAN’s dead body.

Thin Cop: {covering his nose} “Jesus Christ.”
Fat Cop: “Nothing like the smell of decomposition.”
Thin Cop: “No.  Worse.” {revealing food} “Gefilte fish.”

With another FLASH of LIGHTING, LECHTER appears behind them.

TITLE SCREEN: THE RABBINICAL

FADE TO BLACK.

“The Rabbi”


Last year, my grandparents renewed their wedding vows at a casino (because that’s the kind of old people they are).  They had a rabbi.  My mother asked if he’d like to join us for dinner.  She told me –

Susan: “Obviously he’s going to say, ‘No.’  I’m just being polite.”

He said, “Yes.”

He got drunk.

I got drunk.

I told him I don’t believe in organized religion.  He said –

Rabbi: “Can I be honest with you?” {looking around the room for some reason} “It’s all fucking bullshit.”

I was completely taken aback.  He agreed with me that no one should live by such a strict religious code, that compassion and one’s individual goals should dictate his or her decisions.  He even agreed with me that this spiritual/psychic stuff my mother is into is bullshit.

Then he added –

Rabbi: “You know what I do believe in?” {whispering} “Marijuana.”

He was serious.

* * *

Later in the dinner, someone asked me if I planned on having children.  I proceeded to list my usual reasons why doing so would be a catastrophic idea –

1. There’s already an overpopulation problem,
2. I’m too selfish and career-driven to have a child,
3. I have too many emotional and physical problems that I shouldn’t pass on –

The rabbi interrupted, “Whaddya got?”

After going through all of the psychological problems I was aware of, I tacked on my physical ones –

Josh: “Psoriasis.”
Rabbi: “Psoriasis?”

I couldn’t tell if he was about to make fun of me or –

Rabbi: “You don’t have psoriasis like I have psoriasis.”

I didn’t. The man put his feet on the table and rolled up his holy pant legs to show me — and everyone else on this special night — that the area between his knees and ankles was covered, and I mean COVERED, with the skin disease.

Rabbi: “90% of my body.”
Josh: “Wow.  That’s, uh, that’s…agh.”

I was grossed out.  Hell, I’m grossed out by the maybe 9% I have.  Still, the rabbi felt that this shared problem bonded us like nothing else could.  At the end of the dinner, he put his hand on my shoulder and asked if we could keep in touch.

* * *

A few weeks later, I received a message in my gmail inbox with the subject line, “Hello Joshua.”  Seeing the incredibly Jewish name in the “from” section, it didn’t take long to remember who this was.  Unfortunately, the message was simply an emoticon: the infamous winky face — ;)

There are no more twists and turns to this story.  There is no satisfying ending nor is there any theme I’m tackling.  I simply want to suggest that if you’re a middle-aged man looking to forge a friendship with someone half your age, the use of emoticons, however smiley or winky, is completely counter-productive.

Furthermore, I’m sorry if I misjudged you, Rabbi, but if you were coming onto me, “You don’t have psoriasis like I have psoriasis” is not an effective pick-up line.

“Jewish Night at the Movies!”


When I was in college, a couple of film students and I worked at a specialized movie theater near campus to make some extra money.  One night, our theater was showing Fiddler on the Roof or some equally Jewy film like Yentl or Schindler’s List or The Mad Adventures of Rabbi Jacob.

Whatever the film was, the Jews came out in droves.

Before the night began, however, a blond-haired, blue-eyed co-worker of mine named Rachel found me in the box office –

Rachel: “Am I on tickets tonight?”
Josh: “We both are.  Given the pre-sales, it looks like it’s gonna be packed.”
Rachel: “Shit.”
Josh: “Why?  What’s up?”
Rachel: “I just…I feel like — you aside, obviously — I don’t really do well with Jews.”
Josh: {laughing} “What do you mean?”
Rachel: “Like, I don’t know, I say the wrong thing or they just kinda hate me…”
Josh: “‘Cause you look like Hitler’s wet dream?”
Rachel: “Maybe!  I don’t know!!”
Josh: “Rachel, relax.  Of all the groups you need to worry about stereotypically, I think my people are the least threatening.  I mean, unless you do something that’ll get you sued.”
Rachel: {unconvinced} “Mmh.”

Not much later, I saw what she meant –

– Patron: “Three [tickets] for Coen.”
Rachel: {checks the pre-sale clipboard, sees “5” under Coen} “Uh…will any more of your people be coming tonight?”
Patron: “My people?”
Josh: {stifles a laugh}

– Rachel: “Name?”
Patron: “Julia Yiddish-Kite.”
Rachel: “Yiddish-Kike?”
Josh: {laughs}

– Patron: “Shalom.”
Rachel: “Bless you.”
Josh: {laughs even harder} “That one was your fault.”

The night continued in a similar fashion with the Jewish community becoming defensive from every phrase that came out of this Aryan’s mouth.  Rachel made small talk about how the air that evening smelled nice –

Patron: {touching her nose self-consciously} “What are you implying, young lady?”

– and even yelled to one man after some coins fell out of his wallet –

Rachel: “What?  You don’t want to pick up your pennies?!”

At the end of the evening, Rachel found a pair of keys.  Remembering that she saw them with Julia Yiddish-Kite, she ran to the manager and told him –

Rachel: “I think these belong to the Kike that just came out of the bathroom.”

* * *

Weeks later, our theater put on a Woody Allen marathon.  Rachel took the night off.

“The Top 10 Songs of 2011″


This kind of breaks away from the purpose of this website, but because I’ve been more up on music this year than any other (you know…unemployment) and because it’s always fun to make these lists, here are my favorite tracks from 2011.

RUNNERS-UP:
- Azaelia Banks – “212”
- EMA – “California”
- Kendrick Lamar – “HiiiPower”
- Frank Ocean – “Novacane”
- Panda Bear – “Last Night at the Jetty”
- tUnE-YarDs – “Bizness”

10. Tyler, the Creator – “Yonkers”

9. Girls – “Honey Bunny”

8. The Weeknd – “The Birds Part 1”

7. Drake – “Take Care (feat. Rihanna)”

6. Cut Copy – “Need You Now”

5. St. Vincent – “Cheerleader”

4. Jai Paul – “BTSTU”

3. Bon Iver – “I Can’t Make You Love Me” (cover)

2. M83 – “Midnight City”

1. Lana Del Rey – “Video Games”

* * *

If you like the above, I also highly recommend the following 2011 albums –

- Bon Iver – “Bon Iver”
- Drake – “Take Care”
- M83 – “Hurry Up, We’re Dreaming”
- Panda Bear – “Tomboy”
- St. Vincent – “Strange Mercy”

All right.  Let’s see if doing one of these lists gets my website more traffic.