Diary of a Self-Hating Jew
A day in the imagined life of David Axelrod
Did Benjamin Netanyahu call David Axelrod and Rahm Emanuel “self-hating Jews” (as was reported) or not (as his aides insist)? Tablet Magazine got hold of the Obama senior adviser’s private diary from one day last week, and it suggests Bibi was (or wasn’t, maybe) right.
Woke up at 5:30. Total of three hours of sleep. Finished health care strategy memo around 2 and then spent a half hour reading Mondoweiss on the separation wall. Good stuff. Examined face through bloodshot eyes. That beak! It’s not getting any smaller. Thought the mustache would maybe minimize it, but all it does is make me look more hairy. Caught glimpse of Washington Monument out the window. Kind of reminds me of the mezuzah that hung on the door of grandma’s Lower East Side tenement. What a horror show that place was. Reeked of cabbage and B.O.
Stumbled over to WH. Oh, do I love the look of all the lissome shiksas as they head down to the Metro. Sure, they’re all scrubbed and focused now, with their iPods and their briefcases, but who knows what mischief they were up to just a few hours ago. Happy to see they finally got my nameplate on my office door. It’s only been a half-year. Probably should have changed the name when I had the chance. Back in Chicago, it worked. They like their ethnics there. Here, it’s just a liability. Even that great Jew Netanyahu de-Judaized his name back when he was fresh out of MIT. Ben Nitay. Who was he trying to kid? What if I’d been Dave Axel? Could have been anything. Could have been the front man in a rock band. Could have been a man in my own right instead of pulling the strings from the sidelines. Meeting with Conference of Presidents today. Lord help me. Hope they don’t make a big stink over the food options again. I guess under W they would ship a whole smorgasbord down from Brooklyn whenever the Jew crew came to call. I think all they’ll have in the Roosevelt room is mixed nuts. Good. Let ’em starve. Maybe I’ll just sit it out. Obama can handle them without me. Seeing the vein in my neck bulge as they go on and on about the “special relationship” might just throw him off his game. Better get that Hebrew “Obama for President” sign out of the closet. And definitely get rid of this map of greater Palestine. Health care strategy session at my place tonight. Should probably order some pizza. Have Melanie call Bella Napoli. Should probably get an assortment of pies. Obama’s so picky. You know what, screw it. Let’s just get three pepperoni.