Posts Tagged ‘Religious Humor’

Trump’s Tweet-Monitors Won’t Let Him Post This Limerick

Wednesday, February 1st, 2017

There is NO Muslim ban, and Dem tears
Are fake and deserve all our sneers!
And how dare they deplore such
A great guy as Gorsuch!
If they block him, I’ll nuke their careers!

Mosque Mockery

Tuesday, August 17th, 2010

I’m never surprised when Republicans try to trash the U.S. Constitution. But Senator Harry Reid’s position about the proposed Cordoba House — the inaccurately nicknamed “Ground Zero Mosque” — disappointed me.

But then what do I know? I’m just a 1st amendment fan who lives in New York City. And I’d rather see a mosque than a burned out former Burlington Coat Factory store.

That brings me to my latest limerick:

Mosque Mockery
By Madeleine Begun Kane

A “Ground Zero Mosque” — oh how shocking!
Hurray for the folks who are blocking
That mosque to replace
The old coat-selling place.
If perchance you can’t tell — yes, I’m mocking.

I Won’t Graciously Submit To Mike Huckabee

Saturday, December 15th, 2007

How lovely! In addition to Huckabee’s other “charming” attributes, he’s a “wives should graciously submit to their husbands” aficionado.

In June 1998, the Southern Baptist convention amended its official statement of beliefs for the first time in 35 years to declare that “a wife is to submit graciously to the servant leadership of her husband.” And Huckabee, a former Southern Baptist minister then serving as governor of Arkansas, signed a full-page ad in USA Today in support of the statement (along with 129 other evangelical leaders).

Back in 1998 I parodied this brouhaha in a satirical piece, which Bridge News syndicated to a bunch of newspapers, including the Houston Chronicle. Oddly enough, it was initially bumped by Bridge, as too controversial.  Then, after some heated discussion, it was unbumped. Here it is:

Religious Fervor, Or Fever?
By Madeleine Begun Kane

Hey, Madeleine,” my husband Mark recently said. “How would you like to convert?”

“What?” I said, immediately suspicious.

“We’ve been Jewish for a whole lotta years,” Mark said. “I thought it might be time for a change.”

“Did you have any particular religion in mind?”

“Well, they all have their good points. But I was leaning towards Baptist.”

Mark’s suggestion took me by surprise, After all, he’s a reasonably religious man, and I’m a devout member of a tiny Jewish sect known as “So Reform You Don’t Even Have To Show Up.”

I tried to stall by offering to take his conversion idea “under advisement.” I figure this approach works for judges; why shouldn’t it work for me? And it’s served me well throughout our marriage — I’ve had his suggestion that we go white water rafting under advisement for a dozen years.

But this time Mark refused to take “under advisement” for an answer. “If you were a good wife, you’d graciously submit and convert. And you’d do it right away.”

“Do you have a fever?” I asked, becoming seriously concerned. “Maybe we should get you to a doctor.”

“Oh forget it,” Mark said.

At least I think that’s what he said. He’s hard to understand with a thermometer in his mouth.

But he was a healthy 98.6, so I couldn’t blame his odd behavior on a fever.

Puzzled, and remembering that I’m supposed to be a journalist, I decided to investigate.

“Has your husband been acting strange lately?” I asked several friends.

“You mean more than usual?” three responded. The fourth demanded to know if I was wearing a wire.

These women were tough. But by using interrogation techniques I learned in Humor High, I finally pieced together the terrifying truth: My husband, my friends’ husbands, and countless others had succumbed to the influence of an evangelical group that preys on men who married feminists and who for years have been pretending not to mind.

I was stunned and bewildered. How could this happen? Could I have done something to prevent it? Was there some warning sign I missed?

Come to think of it, Mark had been acting strange lately. Out of the blue, he began opening doors for me and refused to let me carry anything that weighed more than a pound. And twice, in what I foolishly assumed was a playful imitation of Alexander Haig, he said “I’m in charge here.”

Worst of all, when I criticized President Clinton, he said, “Don’t bother your pretty little head about that. Foreign policy is my domain.”

Mark’s under treatment now, and I’m guardedly optimistic. He hasn’t mentioned converting in a week. And once, when he was carrying several clumsy packages, he even let me open the door.

But his recovery is slow with frequent relapses. Yesterday he ordered me to quit my job and stay home with the kids.

When he’s better, I’ll have to remind him — we don’t have any kids.

(Crooks and Liars has more.)