Who the fuck invited Julie Burchill?

or Unrequited: Memoirs of a Jewish Anti-Burchillite

It was a normal Saturday night in Judaism.

Jews- all of us – were having a quiet night in with the X Factor. We were just sitting down to a quiet evening of complaining, playing klezmer music, eating salmon and conforming to stereotypes. It was a normal night. Not great, because our allergies were playing up, but it was OK. We were playing our usual favourite games, such as Guess Which Celebrity I’ve Found Out Is Jewish, Who Can Say the Most Obnoxious Thing About Israel and Who Has the Worst Back Pain.

We were just winding down from another raucous Kabbalat Shabbat party. Everyone was still a bit hungover from last year’s Purim party. We sat on the couch, staring at the screen.

Will Self and Shlomo Sand stood in the doorway. “Guys. Guys, we’re leaving. Guys we’re actually leaving now.” They’d been standing there since 2006. Occasionally somebody murmured “OK. Bye.”

(In case you haven’t got it yet, for the purposes of this satire, not only are all Jews the same, we also all live in the same house. It’s a metaphor. I know, clever, right?)

All of a sudden a drunk, angry woman stormed into the house. “Hi everybody!” she shouted. “I brought Bolly! Shove off with your elderflower wine, the good stuff has arrived! And she brought champagne!” She laughed at her own joke.

For a while everybody sat around, looking a bit dazed.

“Who wants to slag off Muslims? Shit, aren’t they? Not like you lot, you’re great, I love you, mwah! So sexy and exotic.”

The penny dropped. A whisper went round the room: “who the fuck invited Julie Burchill?”

If anybody had, they didn’t want to admit to it. Chances are, nobody invited her.

“Black people! Trannies! Lezzers! Immigrants!” she shouted, presumably in the hopes of starting a conversation.

“I bet you lot have got lots of opinions on them, with all your knowledge and that. You’re so clever. Look at you all, thinking and that. So wise.”

The gatecrasher appeared to have turned up to tell us that she liked us. “Israel’s great! Jewish soldiers are hot! Fuck the Muslims, you guys don’t like them either, right? Right?”

Stony silence did nothing to deter her.

From the sofa, Bubbe (because we all have the same grandfather from Poland in the same house in Golders Green) said: “Somebody’s going to have to ask her to leave. I would but… my back…”

Somebody did get up. You can make that somebody whichever Jew you like. Albert Einstein. Dana International. Meir Kahane. No, wait, not Meir Kahane. Somebody hesitated, then said: “Hi Julie. Um, I noticed you’ve kind-of gatecrashed the party. Only it’s not really a party. Everybody’s already gone home. We just all kinda live in the same house in this metaphor.”

“But I wanted to tell you how much I love you. You’re like me. You hate Muslims too.”

“Well, no, we don’t really. I mean, alright, everybody’s Aunt Bitzl has said some pretty off-colour things once or twice but, generally, no, we quite like Muslims. We’ve got a lot in common with them.”

“But I love Israel! Israel’s great! I love the army and the wars and all the butch men with post-traumatic stress disorder! Bomb Gaza! Bomb Iran! Bomb everywhere! Hawt!”

“Julie,” somebody said. “Even the most pro-Israel Jews don’t feel that way. We all feel a bit uncomfortable with Israel sometimes. None of us want to glamourise war – it’s awful. Some Jews don’t have any connection to Israel at all.”

Wierdly, Julie suddenly looks sober. “I know that. I don’t care. Don’t you get it? My job is pissing people off. I upset people by saying the things they’d most hate to hear. I’ve been doing it for years. It’s how I make my money. Actually, it’s the only way I make money.”

“I needed a way to piss off the Jews. But it’s been really hard to do that. Ever since that little genocide, nobody wants to insult you lot anymore. Even the Daily Mail can’t quite bring themselves to it.”

“So I had an idea. I wrote down all the worst things about Jews and said that was why I loved you. I even dedicated 23 pages of my book to slagging off one of the UK’s most prominent rabbis, all in the name of saying I love you. I couldn’t have been happier with myself. I knew you’d take the bait. And, look, you did: you’re writing an article about me right now.”

Share unto the nationsTweet about this on Twitter
Twitter
Share on Facebook
Facebook
Share on Tumblr
Tumblr
Share on Reddit
Reddit

8 thoughts on “Who the fuck invited Julie Burchill?”

  1. I’ve heard that Spielberg is making a big movie ‘Burchill’s List’ – it’s about all the Jews that Julie would have liked to have saved.

  2. Thank you on behalf of everyone who lives in the same house as you, for telling it like it is. Keep up the good work Judas!

  3. Just seen Julie Burchill on Channel 4 news at Banksy’s Dismal World. Invited by Banksy to contribute to the alternative art piece. and all she could do is say how Banksy’s ideas about Gaza were crap and he did not know what he was talking about, unlike her. through hair that needed a wash and teeth that needed oral hygiene.

    Cannot stand her. Needed to find an antidote. Found this. Thank you very much.

    Who the bloody hell made her Pope?

  4. Speaking on behalf of all Jews, everywhere, I’d just like to say “whadda ya gonna do – uh?”

  5. Helen Jn Pierre

    Many a true word
    I don’t read Newspapers simply because they cost money and now Fish n Chips are not wrapped in them I never even touch one!
    I don’t live in the same house as you.
    But I hate the way the media & their narsacistic folk are turning people ( by people i mean those who lack knowledge other than what they read or see in the media) into “racist bigots”
    If I hate anyone it’s not because of their skin colour, race, religion or sexual persuasion IT’S solely because they are not nice.
    Wish everyone would “play nice” and the World would be a nicer place to live ❤
    When a Wiki’d this Burchill woman I saw after 3 years of marriage I read she not only left her husband but her son too!!!!! That alone speaks volumes

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *