ANTI-SEMITISM: THE ZOMBIE OF AMERICAN PREJUDICE
F*CK ANTISEMITISM: IF YOU'RE NOT PISSED OFF BY ALL THE ANTISEMITISM, YOU'RE NOT PAYING ATTENTION
Ah, America—the land of the free, home of the brave, and occasional epicenter of "Why do we keep doing this to Jews?" It's like we've got a national subscription to Idiot's Digest, with antisemitism as the never-ending feature article. But let's cut the crap: if you're not boiling with rage over the casual Jew-hating that's bubbling up like bad coffee in every corner of our discourse, you're either asleep at the wheel or binge-watching too much reality TV where the villains are at least scripted. Me? I'm pissed. Not "mildly annoyed while scrolling Twitter" pissed—I'm "ready to arm-wrestle a conspiracy theorist with a bagel" pissed. And here's why: because in a country built on hating ideas (looking at you, every Founding Father beef), we've somehow devolved into hating people for the crime of existing. Spoiler: that's not American; that's just lazy.
Look, I'm furious about the war in Gaza. The death toll, the displacement, the endless cycle of violence—it's a gut-punch to anyone with a pulse and a news app. But do I blame "the Jewish people" for it? Hell no. That's like blaming every American for the time our government decided to bomb a boat in South America because "reasons." (Pro tip: There are always "reasons," but they're usually just code for "oops, we have too many missiles.") No, I blame the Israeli government—those suits in Jerusalem making calls that make my blood run hot. Same with ICE snatching folks off the streets like it's a twisted game of hide-and-seek: that's a policy, not a personality trait of every apple-pie-eating Yank. We point fingers at the machine, not the mechanic's neighbor.
And don't get me started on the media's love affair with this toxic sludge. You know the rhetoric I'm talking about—the slimy whispers that paint Jews as puppet-masters or money-hoarders, like we're still stuck in a bad 1930s radio drama. It's such BS, it's practically a fertilizer factory. In America, we live by ideas. We hate 'em, we sue 'em, we meme 'em into oblivion. But the people? Nah. We don't hate the people. We hate the governments peddling crap policies, the ideologues spouting nonsense. Take Stephen Miller—God, those policies of his make me want to yeet my TV out the window. The family separations, the wall fever dreams, the whole "build the thing, make 'em pay" vibe? Vomit-inducing. But Miller himself? I don't hate the guy. I've never met him—hell, I wouldn't recognize him in a lineup unless he was holding a clipboard labeled "Evil Ideas Only." That's the American way: roast the recipe, not the chef. Challenge the thoughts, fight the philosophies, argue till you're blue in the face. But hating folks for favoring those flavors? That's not debate; that's just being a dick.
I've rubbed elbows with Jewish folks my whole life—neighbors, colleagues, that one guy at the deli who remembers your order and slips you an extra pickle like it's contraband. Great Americans, every one. They love this country like it's their third-favorite bagel topping (after lox and everything, obviously). They mow lawns, coach Little League, argue politics at Thanksgiving like pros. Sure, I've crossed paths with Jewish people I didn't click with—same as the Christian accountant who ghosted my invoice, the Muslim cabbie who took the scenic route to "show me the city," or the Hindu coworker whose chai obsession bordered on cultish. But you know what? Those outliers don't get to define the squad. One bad apple doesn't make the orchard a hate crime. It's like saying all Italians are mobsters because you saw The Godfather once. Absurd. Offensive. And, frankly, exhausting.
But here's the kicker: this isn't some fresh hell we're brewing. Antisemitism in America has been simmering since before we had a Bill of Rights—back when our biggest export was hypocrisy and beaver pelts. Let's take a saucy stroll through history, shall we? Picture this: 1654, New Amsterdam (pre-New York glow-up). Governor Peter Stuyvesant—yes, that Stuyvesant, the one with the street named after him like a participation trophy—tries to boot out a boatload of Jewish settlers. Why? Because they're "deceitful" and "very repugnant," he whines in a letter that's basically colonial fanfic for bigots. Brandeis University dug this up, and it's a reminder: even in our toddler years, we were already auditioning for Survivor: Intolerance Island. Fast-forward to the 19th century, and Jewish businessmen are out here grinding, only to get the cold shoulder on loans because, gasp, stereotypes about Jews and money. It's like if every banker today got denied credit for being "too Wall Street"—oh wait, that's just irony biting us in the keister.
Then comes the 20th-century peak, the era when antisemitism went full Broadway musical: Hate Springtime for Hitler (without the satire). From the 1870s to the 1940s, Jews couldn't buy a ticket to the American Dream without jumping through hoops made of barbed wire. Elite clubs? "No Jews Allowed" signs, because nothing says "land of opportunity" like a velvet rope of venom. Resorts? Same deal—Jews need not apply, unless you count the "Jews Only" beaches that were basically segregation's awkward cousin. Jobs? Forget it; certain professions treated résumés from Jews like they were written in Klingon. And education? Harvard, Yale, Princeton—they slapped quotas on Jewish enrollment like it was a fire sale on prejudice. "Antisemitism Uncovered" lays it out cold: these Ivy Leaguers weren't preserving excellence; they were preserving exclusion. It's the academic equivalent of "No shirt, no shoes, no Jews."
Enter the extremists, stage right, with jazz hands and pitchforks. The 1920s Ku Klux Klan revival? They didn't just hate Black folks; Jews were on the menu too, like a hate buffet. Then there's Henry Ford—yes, car guy Henry—pumping out The Protocols of the Elders of Zion, that forged fever dream of Jewish world domination, like it was the next Model T. Guy had a printing press and a grudge; America had a bestseller. And Father Coughlin? The radio priest who turned AM waves into a megaphone for Mussolini fanfic. Millions tuned in to hear him rant about "Jewish bankers" ruining everything, because apparently, the Great Depression needed a scapegoat with a yarmulke.
Don't sleep on the America First Committee either—Charles Lindbergh and his aviator ego leading the charge, whispering that Jews were the real threat to "white Americans." Wikipedia's got the receipts: this wasn't fringe; it was a movement that made "isolationism" sound like a dog whistle for "keep out the ethnics." Peak 1930s vibes, right? The kind that make you wonder if we learned anything from the mustache man across the pond.
Post-WWII, things cooled off a bit. The Holocaust hit like a sledgehammer to the soul—six million lives snuffed out, and suddenly, overt Jew-hating felt a tad uncouth. Good on us for the glow-up; antisemitic sentiment dipped, and for a hot minute, we pretended we'd evolved. But fast-forward to the 21st century, and bam—resurgence alert! The Anti-Defamation League's tracking record levels of incidents: vandalism, assaults, the works. It's not just one flavor of fool either; it's a hate potluck. Far-right white supremacists chanting "Jews will not replace us" like it's a Twisted Sister cover. Far-left corners where anti-Israel fury morphs into "all Zionists are Nazis" (pro tip: that's not nuance; that's nonsense). Religious extremists slinging ancient beefs like they're new. Even segments of minority communities get looped in, because hate's an equal-opportunity virus.
Why now? Blame the algorithm gods—social media's turned every basement bigot into a broadcaster. One viral post about "globalist cabals," and suddenly your aunt's forwarding it with "Thoughts?" But let's be real: this isn't tech's fault alone. It's us, forgetting the American script. We argue ideas. We protest policies. We don't torch synagogues because Bibi Netanyahu's got a bone to pick with Hamas. That's not activism; that's arson with extra steps.
So, what's the fix? Start by getting pissed—like, properly pissed. Call out the rhetoric when you hear it, whether it's a podcaster's "joke" or a politician's wink. Support the Jewish neighbors who are just trying to live without looking over their shoulder. And for God's sake, remember: hating a people is the laziest shortcut since the drive-thru. Challenge the actions, dismantle the ideas, vote out the governments peddling poison. That's how we do it here—messy, loud, and with a side of snark.
America's got enough scars from this old habit. Let's not add another chapter. F*ck antisemitism. Wake up, pay attention, and let's build something better than this recycled bigotry. Your move.
