Ever see that documentary Jesus Camp? Basically, a cameraman follows along a group of kids to the “Kids on Fire” summer camp (great band name) where they are trained to be, in the words of the big fat lady who directs the camp, “Christian soldiers in God’s army for the coming war against Muslims and the Liberal Establishment.” Sure, we all think that stuff, but you’re not supposed to actually say it.
But what about da Jewbs? About 76% of all Americans identify themselves as Christian while a meager 1.2% Americans blatantly declare their religious superiority as being the chosen ones. Have you ever wondered why 20% of all Nobel recipients have been Jewish, or why 3 films that kick the shit out of Nazis come out every year? Have you ever seen a poor Jew that wasn’t a struggling entertainer, like a Jewish bum or something? That’s because the secret Jewish cabal that runs the world makes the Free Masons and Skulls-n-Bones look like a “No Girls Allowed” tree fort in your back yard. So why haven’t they been morally audited?
Last summer drove up to Cooperstown, NY to visit with the kids of “Kimama Modin Rustic Adventure Camp” on the bank of Ostego Lake to see what evil shit these hellspawn are up to.
I arrived at the camp’s wrought iron gates promptly at 9:30. Turns out this whole place was originally a retirement community exclusively for Holocaust survivors. Well, you know, old people die and, yeah. I don’t think there’s going to be any new survivors any time soon to replace the dead ones. So being the progressive chaps they are, some rooms were rented out for the Jewish youth of tomorrow, today. Whatevs. I’m sure this place has some killer ghost stories attached to it, like the one about the ghost of Old Mrs. Grossman who still roams these halls looking for her shower cap. “Giiiive meeee myyy caaaap, chiiildreenss!”
The camp’s director Uncle Shmoigle introduces me to a sea of curly haired 10-13 year olds. About half of them are wearing little inhaler necklaces. Shmoigle stepped aside so the campers and I could get better acquainted. The sea parted (haw) as I stepped off the 2x3x1 foot “stage” and tried to mingle. No one really said anything, so now I had to summon my non-existent journalism skills.
“So, what do you guys like about Jewish camp?”
No one really reacted. They just stared at me until one kid, Noah Behrs, who I later learned was the major player at Kimama Modin, spoke up. “Um…no parents?” He hazarded a guess. I thought he was trying to see if there was a right answer. In reality he was just placating a stupid question.
“K, k. So….what’s the coolest thing about being Jewish?” Fuck that was stupid. The kids made it a point to mention how gay I was right before leaving to go canoeing or just some general fuck-off-ery. Only one kid stayed to give me “the scoop” on camp life here; the most pathetic little wisp of a human who by all reason should have died in kindergarten by the herd mentality of Natural Selection. His name was David Weiss and if he wasn’t an incubator baby, his existence at least gave those kids something tangible to aim for. Nothing quite like a person with the body of a Muppet wearing a Hawaiian shirt feeling sorry for you.
He showed me the haps around camp: the docks, the arts and craft place, the math-letes’ training center. We had to keep stopping so David could catch his breath or get rid of the tiny pebbles that got caught in his sandals. Of course he was wearing black socks.
Dinner that night was an old-fashioned, rustic hotdog roast- of Hebrew Nationals steam cooked in the kitchen and then brought out on trays. Entertainment that night was a showing of Wedding Crashers on the projection screen.
Lights out. The campers all went to bed and I retired to the spare cot in a giant storage closet they gave me. I used a mop head for a pillow. As I laid there thinking what a huge fucking waste this whole trip was my nose picked something up. My eyes widened and I was instantly aroused by the familiar, dank odor of burning cannabis. I jumped out of cot, threw on a pair of jeans and a wife beater and pulled a Toucan Sam to the back of the building where Noah and the Cool Jew Crew (they didn’t actually call themselves that) were hitting a fairly decently wrapped blunt.
The saw me coming around the corner and started to panic. “Oh shit oh shit!” screamed Rebecca Wiener, the uber-JAP in the group.
“Freeze!” I shouted at them. I was so excited. I angrily marched up to them, totally playing the authority card. “What’s going on here?! Huh?! What is that!?” No one spoke. “Gimme that!” I grabbed their blunt. The timing on this couldn’t have been more perfect. I just paused for the slightest moment, drinking in their anxiety as they prayed to God for a way out of this alive. Then I took a huge, calm drag like something out of a cigarette commercial from the 50’s.
“Marijuana,” I started. “I can’t believe you kids would be out here, smoking marijuana…” I looked around.
“without me!”
It was like I detonated an A-bomb that gave off exasperated sighs that seemed to say “ya got me, asshole. Good joke.”
The rest of the night was pretty epic. We smoked up, went for a late night dip in the lake, broke some shit, and I even heard that after we all packed it in for the night, Rebecca decided to retire with Noah in his room where she gave him all kinds of blow jobs.
But what about da Jewbs? About 76% of all Americans identify themselves as Christian while a meager 1.2% Americans blatantly declare their religious superiority as being the chosen ones. Have you ever wondered why 20% of all Nobel recipients have been Jewish, or why 3 films that kick the shit out of Nazis come out every year? Have you ever seen a poor Jew that wasn’t a struggling entertainer, like a Jewish bum or something? That’s because the secret Jewish cabal that runs the world makes the Free Masons and Skulls-n-Bones look like a “No Girls Allowed” tree fort in your back yard. So why haven’t they been morally audited?
Last summer drove up to Cooperstown, NY to visit with the kids of “Kimama Modin Rustic Adventure Camp” on the bank of Ostego Lake to see what evil shit these hellspawn are up to.
I arrived at the camp’s wrought iron gates promptly at 9:30. Turns out this whole place was originally a retirement community exclusively for Holocaust survivors. Well, you know, old people die and, yeah. I don’t think there’s going to be any new survivors any time soon to replace the dead ones. So being the progressive chaps they are, some rooms were rented out for the Jewish youth of tomorrow, today. Whatevs. I’m sure this place has some killer ghost stories attached to it, like the one about the ghost of Old Mrs. Grossman who still roams these halls looking for her shower cap. “Giiiive meeee myyy caaaap, chiiildreenss!”
The camp’s director Uncle Shmoigle introduces me to a sea of curly haired 10-13 year olds. About half of them are wearing little inhaler necklaces. Shmoigle stepped aside so the campers and I could get better acquainted. The sea parted (haw) as I stepped off the 2x3x1 foot “stage” and tried to mingle. No one really said anything, so now I had to summon my non-existent journalism skills.
“So, what do you guys like about Jewish camp?”
No one really reacted. They just stared at me until one kid, Noah Behrs, who I later learned was the major player at Kimama Modin, spoke up. “Um…no parents?” He hazarded a guess. I thought he was trying to see if there was a right answer. In reality he was just placating a stupid question.
“K, k. So….what’s the coolest thing about being Jewish?” Fuck that was stupid. The kids made it a point to mention how gay I was right before leaving to go canoeing or just some general fuck-off-ery. Only one kid stayed to give me “the scoop” on camp life here; the most pathetic little wisp of a human who by all reason should have died in kindergarten by the herd mentality of Natural Selection. His name was David Weiss and if he wasn’t an incubator baby, his existence at least gave those kids something tangible to aim for. Nothing quite like a person with the body of a Muppet wearing a Hawaiian shirt feeling sorry for you.
He showed me the haps around camp: the docks, the arts and craft place, the math-letes’ training center. We had to keep stopping so David could catch his breath or get rid of the tiny pebbles that got caught in his sandals. Of course he was wearing black socks.
Dinner that night was an old-fashioned, rustic hotdog roast- of Hebrew Nationals steam cooked in the kitchen and then brought out on trays. Entertainment that night was a showing of Wedding Crashers on the projection screen.
Lights out. The campers all went to bed and I retired to the spare cot in a giant storage closet they gave me. I used a mop head for a pillow. As I laid there thinking what a huge fucking waste this whole trip was my nose picked something up. My eyes widened and I was instantly aroused by the familiar, dank odor of burning cannabis. I jumped out of cot, threw on a pair of jeans and a wife beater and pulled a Toucan Sam to the back of the building where Noah and the Cool Jew Crew (they didn’t actually call themselves that) were hitting a fairly decently wrapped blunt.
The saw me coming around the corner and started to panic. “Oh shit oh shit!” screamed Rebecca Wiener, the uber-JAP in the group.
“Freeze!” I shouted at them. I was so excited. I angrily marched up to them, totally playing the authority card. “What’s going on here?! Huh?! What is that!?” No one spoke. “Gimme that!” I grabbed their blunt. The timing on this couldn’t have been more perfect. I just paused for the slightest moment, drinking in their anxiety as they prayed to God for a way out of this alive. Then I took a huge, calm drag like something out of a cigarette commercial from the 50’s.
“Marijuana,” I started. “I can’t believe you kids would be out here, smoking marijuana…” I looked around.
“without me!”
It was like I detonated an A-bomb that gave off exasperated sighs that seemed to say “ya got me, asshole. Good joke.”
The rest of the night was pretty epic. We smoked up, went for a late night dip in the lake, broke some shit, and I even heard that after we all packed it in for the night, Rebecca decided to retire with Noah in his room where she gave him all kinds of blow jobs.
I always knew something sinister happened at Jewish Camp. To compare and contrast with Jesus Camp: The religious vibe was so minimal it was almost secular. Enlightenment was reached through drugs, not prayer. Similar things can be said about proselytizing. The only time God was mentioned followed by a lot of crying was when Noah’s girlfriend Heather found out about Rebecca she screamed “oh god damnit!” and ran sobbing into the bathroom at breakfast.
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