The REAL Story of Hanukkah (or however you spell it)

I know it was like three months ago, but it seems that there are quite a few people who don't know the story of Hanukkah, or who don't understand its true meaning: Guilt. No, not gelt. Real honest-to-God guilt (employed by five out of four Jewish mothers across the world). So, here we go, ladies and gents (pun intended):

Added to make this story more believable

Many years ago, in a distant land (I don't know where, so I'll just say New Jersey), an evil Roman emperor named Antiochus IV Decided to repress the Jews of New Jersey. He did this by killing them, and, even worse, forcing them to stand on long lines at the grocery store listening to christmas-themed muzak. Now, the Jews didn't like this, because they liked being alive, and hated Muzak (they would have much rather listened to Barbra Streisand). Finally, when the Jews got tired of dying and having horrible headaches, they decided to do something about it. From among the kvetching throng, rose a man destined to become a great champion of the israelites: Mel Brooks. Unfortunately, he would not be born for another couple thousand years.

Instead, they  settled for Judah Maccabee; a nationalist, and all around mensch.


Judah rallied the Jews together with promises of safety, freedom, and bagels and lox in the conference tent. Young mr. Maccabee formed a group of rebels creatively named: The Maccabees (they could always form a kickass punk-rock band if the whole rebellion thing didn't pan out).

Now, these rebels had a lot of chutzpah, but very little experience rebelling. This was a problem. Night after night, they argued in Judah's tent, bickering endlessly about their official battle cry, and the font to be used in their monthly newsletters (Papyrus was, unfortunately, en vogue at the time).
After three months of senseless debate, Isaac Goldenbaum had a brilliant idea. "Let's take over the American film industry and make movies such as Fiddler on the Roof that show the Jewish faith in a positive light!" Everyone rejoiced at this idea until they realized that they had no idea what Isaac was talking about.

It was at this moment that Judah's mother, Helen Maccabee, entered their super-secret meeting tent with a tray of latkes ("I don't want you should starve!"). At this moment, someone (we will say it was Judah, to make him seem more heroic) came up with a brilliant idea: Use the latkes! "Latkes," He explained "Are 75% oil. They are the most flammable food in the world. If you light them on fire they are ten times more deadly than a plane full of napalm." Once again, everyone rejoiced, and drank manishevitz, and rejoiced even harder.

An ancient poster depicting the beverage of choice

Unfortunately, the Romans learned of their brilliant plan, and destroyed almost all of Helen's cooking oil. In the end, they were left with only enough oil to make one batch of latkes. Disillusioned, and disheartened, the Maccabees were all but ready to give up and move to Boca Raton. Helen, however, was not to be deterred. Taking off her oven mitts, Mrs. Maccabee marched over to the temple. "God," she shouted "Why don't you come around anymore? What are we, chopped liver?"

With that, a miracle occurred. The oil, although small in volume, was suddenly enough to make 8 batches of Latkes! The Maccabees would finally be able to take on the Romans.


Marching into battle, the brave rebels hurled their fiery cuisine with grace and skill of Sandy Koufax. The Romans were completely demolished.

Historical Reenactment 

 As Rome's Best tried to regroup, Helen ambushed them from behind. Shaking her head, she shouted "Are you just going to leave those perfectly good latkes uneaten? I just spent the entire weekend cooking these for you, and this is how they're treated? Well, don't worry about it. I didn't expect to be appreciated anyways. You know, there are children starving in china who would love to eat something like that. Still, if you can sleep at night knowing that you are throwing away the lives of children..."


Stricken with guilt, the Roman soldiers retreated, never to be seen again. Ever.