mag
Heeb Issue #2 : Urban KvetchUrban Kvetch
Milton Berle, The Jewish Roll, Russendisko and more
Impressions Under Water by Leni Riefenstahl
Hitler’s little media darling will soon release a 45-minute documentary about life in the Indian Ocean, with footage taken from over two thousand dives. Riefenstahl’s first film since 1954, it will be released on her 100th birthday in August. Translation: She rolled with the Nazis, made some movies that helped whip an entire nation into a killing frenzy, put on a wetsuit, and spent the rest of her life playing with fish until emerging to release a picture with a soundtrack by the same Italian guy who wrote the music for Flashdance. That’s show business.
LATISHA FINKELSTEIN
Hedwig and the Angry Inch
For those who just can’t get enough ruby-red lip glitter, dinner theater, Jewish drag kings, Hasidic johns, East Berlin trannies and fucking kick-ass rock n’ roll, we are delighted to announce Hedwig’s presence at a video store near you. If you weren’t among the enlightened who saw it three or four times on the big screen, let’s just say that it’s rich in the staples of fine cinema (singing, dancing, tassels, cakey makeup) with a truly weird Jewish subtext to boot. Plus, you’ll never look at gummy bears the same way again.
ANNA KONDA
The Jewish Roll
The Japanese cats over at Crazy Fish restaurant in Los Angeles are just calling it what it is. No need to gloss things over by calling it a “Philadelphia Roll” or a “Brooklyn Roll” like other restaurants do. It’s rice and seaweed with a shmear and lox. The swirls of bright red smelt roe enhance the chef’s presentation, but come on, it’s still rice with a shmear. The fact that it’s kosher doesn’t make it right. But damn, it’s nice to look at.
SEMITIC ONE
Cleveland
Cleveland deftly illustrates how a city can funnel millions of dollars into subsidizing fancy new sports arenas (at the expense of little things like, oh, city schools and public housing), but when all is said and done, that city will remain as much a steaming shithole as ever. (Sidenote: We were pretty thick-skinned about how the press covered our launch here at Heeb HQ, but when both the Cleveland Jewish News and the Cleveland Plain Dealer decided to dis us, it was clear that the truth had to be known about this festering zit on our nation’s ass. Consider it a public service.)
JENNIFER BLEYER
Russendisko, East Berlin
Russian Jewish émigrés rocking the decks while their Eastern sistahs and brothas pay homage to a post-Socialist world with their feet? Give me more! Two years ago, Berliners Wladimir Kaminer and Juri Gurzhy inaugurated Russendisko (Russian Disco), an infectious Slavic dance party that packs in the compatriots, szenesters, and curious voyeurs on a monthly basis. The Iron Curtain never sounded so good.
DINA PASSMAN
The Jew Crew Cookbook
Yet another excellent zine that puts us to shame. “Food for thought…recipes for destruction,” reads the subtitle. Inside, we are reminded that being Jewish (at least in certain quarters) is ultimately about love and revolution. There’s an essay by the ever fabulous Nomy Lamm, steamy shtetl erotica, a paean to the resistance in Nazi Europe, and a good spinach knish recipe to boot. Contact e_goldman@hotmail.com to get one.
KAYA RUBIN
France
Tourism down in the land of waifs and dog shit? Ah, gay Paris — in its bloated fashion, France decided to whip up a down-home Jew-bashing frenzy this year. Trés Vichy, Monsieur Chirac! They say they’re upset about things in Israel, but let’s recall how France dealt with her own post-colonial terror problem in 1996 — with public searches and routine humiliations of every North African carrying a briefcase. In case 1940 was a little unclear, 2002 has driven the message home—ze Frrrench are peegs.
LA NANCY SCHWARTZMAN
Milton Berle’s Dick (1908-2002)
Last March, while the obituary pages eulogized Milton Berle’s legendary career, none, regrettably, made mention of his famed schlong. Mr. Television’s foot-long hot dog was common lore in Hollywood, and not just around the sauna at the Friar’s Club. Spy published reports of Berle’s infamous ankle spanker, which were later corroborated by his son, Bill (who claimed his father used to show it off backstage in Vegas). Berle had the biggest shit-eating grin in showbiz, and we can only speculate to what extent it was due to his prodigious pride and joy. But where’s the harm in remembering the man and his manhood, the vaudevillian and his vein? Something tells us Uncle Miltie wouldn’t have it any other way.
JOSHUA NEUMAN
Hitler’s little media darling will soon release a 45-minute documentary about life in the Indian Ocean, with footage taken from over two thousand dives. Riefenstahl’s first film since 1954, it will be released on her 100th birthday in August. Translation: She rolled with the Nazis, made some movies that helped whip an entire nation into a killing frenzy, put on a wetsuit, and spent the rest of her life playing with fish until emerging to release a picture with a soundtrack by the same Italian guy who wrote the music for Flashdance. That’s show business.
LATISHA FINKELSTEIN
Hedwig and the Angry Inch
For those who just can’t get enough ruby-red lip glitter, dinner theater, Jewish drag kings, Hasidic johns, East Berlin trannies and fucking kick-ass rock n’ roll, we are delighted to announce Hedwig’s presence at a video store near you. If you weren’t among the enlightened who saw it three or four times on the big screen, let’s just say that it’s rich in the staples of fine cinema (singing, dancing, tassels, cakey makeup) with a truly weird Jewish subtext to boot. Plus, you’ll never look at gummy bears the same way again.
ANNA KONDA
The Jewish Roll
The Japanese cats over at Crazy Fish restaurant in Los Angeles are just calling it what it is. No need to gloss things over by calling it a “Philadelphia Roll” or a “Brooklyn Roll” like other restaurants do. It’s rice and seaweed with a shmear and lox. The swirls of bright red smelt roe enhance the chef’s presentation, but come on, it’s still rice with a shmear. The fact that it’s kosher doesn’t make it right. But damn, it’s nice to look at.
SEMITIC ONE
Cleveland
Cleveland deftly illustrates how a city can funnel millions of dollars into subsidizing fancy new sports arenas (at the expense of little things like, oh, city schools and public housing), but when all is said and done, that city will remain as much a steaming shithole as ever. (Sidenote: We were pretty thick-skinned about how the press covered our launch here at Heeb HQ, but when both the Cleveland Jewish News and the Cleveland Plain Dealer decided to dis us, it was clear that the truth had to be known about this festering zit on our nation’s ass. Consider it a public service.)
JENNIFER BLEYER
Russendisko, East Berlin
Russian Jewish émigrés rocking the decks while their Eastern sistahs and brothas pay homage to a post-Socialist world with their feet? Give me more! Two years ago, Berliners Wladimir Kaminer and Juri Gurzhy inaugurated Russendisko (Russian Disco), an infectious Slavic dance party that packs in the compatriots, szenesters, and curious voyeurs on a monthly basis. The Iron Curtain never sounded so good.
DINA PASSMAN
The Jew Crew Cookbook
Yet another excellent zine that puts us to shame. “Food for thought…recipes for destruction,” reads the subtitle. Inside, we are reminded that being Jewish (at least in certain quarters) is ultimately about love and revolution. There’s an essay by the ever fabulous Nomy Lamm, steamy shtetl erotica, a paean to the resistance in Nazi Europe, and a good spinach knish recipe to boot. Contact e_goldman@hotmail.com to get one.
KAYA RUBIN
France
Tourism down in the land of waifs and dog shit? Ah, gay Paris — in its bloated fashion, France decided to whip up a down-home Jew-bashing frenzy this year. Trés Vichy, Monsieur Chirac! They say they’re upset about things in Israel, but let’s recall how France dealt with her own post-colonial terror problem in 1996 — with public searches and routine humiliations of every North African carrying a briefcase. In case 1940 was a little unclear, 2002 has driven the message home—ze Frrrench are peegs.
LA NANCY SCHWARTZMAN
Milton Berle’s Dick (1908-2002)
Last March, while the obituary pages eulogized Milton Berle’s legendary career, none, regrettably, made mention of his famed schlong. Mr. Television’s foot-long hot dog was common lore in Hollywood, and not just around the sauna at the Friar’s Club. Spy published reports of Berle’s infamous ankle spanker, which were later corroborated by his son, Bill (who claimed his father used to show it off backstage in Vegas). Berle had the biggest shit-eating grin in showbiz, and we can only speculate to what extent it was due to his prodigious pride and joy. But where’s the harm in remembering the man and his manhood, the vaudevillian and his vein? Something tells us Uncle Miltie wouldn’t have it any other way.
JOSHUA NEUMAN
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