David Duke Reverses Opinion on Jews after Mel Brooks Binge

1,649 words

Citing the need to “secure the existence of our people and a future for white children” and waving placards condemning former Ku Klux Klan Grand Wizard David Duke for his “complete and utter capitulation to the Zionist Occupation Government (aka ZOG),” an angry crowd of White Nationalists protested bitterly outside Duke’s new home in Sarasota, Florida last Monday.

“I admit, I was inspired by Kanye West’s recent change of heart about the Jews,” claimed Duke, who was sitting by his backyard swimming pool, looking tan and relaxed while wearing nothing but sunglasses and a bright orange speedo and savoring an expensive cigar. A gold chain with a diamond-studded Star of David sparkled conspicuously from his hairy chest. “I mean, if Ye can watch a mediocre bro-mance like 51 Jump Street and reach his epiphany about the Tribe, then why can’t I delve into the classics of Jewish comedy and come out a winner, too? Anyhoo, how can a no-talent nebbish like Jonah Hill even compare to comedic menschen like Jackie Mason and Mort Sohl? Don Rickles, I miss you, Bubbie!”

When pressed to name his favorite Jewish comedian, Duke said that, hands down, there can be only one. “It was Mel Brooks all the way, baby,” he said. “After Ye said his piece, I said, ‘You know what? To hell with this Alt Right stuff. I’m goin’ on a three-day Brooks binge, starting with my all-time favorite from 1975, Blazing Saddles. I mean, c’mon. Lilly von Shtupp? And an Indian speaking Yiddish? That’s genius! I got, like, everything Mel’s ever done on VHS — except for Twelve Chairs. I still don’t believe all that Holocaust shit.”

The “Alt Right,” a loosely-knit organization of far-Right internet provocateurs which first attained notoriety after the tragic August 2017 Unite the Right rally in Charlottesville, Virginia, was shocked by Duke’s announcement. When asked for comment, a fuming Richard Spencer responded, “David Duke, you are a traitor to the white race! How dare you enjoy the movies of Mel Brooks! I am so mad! I am so fucking mad! I rule the fucking world! People like David Duke get ruled by people like me! That’s how the fucking world works!”

Spencer, whom Duke later referred to as a “humorless turd,” was then punched in the jaw by a black-clad, transgender, antifa terrorist named Bert. Although barely phased by the blow, Spencer walked away in a huff while adjusting his silky-smooth hair with both hands and shrieking, “Woody Allen sucks!” to anyone who would listen.

At that moment, Bert announced that the 1983 Barbra Streisand movie Yentl was the greatest movie of all time — better than Cabaret and both versions of The Jazz Singer. “It even beat the 1962 Isaac Bashevis Singer short story it was based on!” claimed Bert, who, as “e-Bert” sidelines as a Left-wing online film critic whenever he is not bashing skulls in with bike locks as part of the Democratic Party’s official paramilitary wing. “It depicted the isolation and rhapsody of the cross-dressing protagonist better than the story, which was a bit too clever and relied overmuch on irony and other tired literary conventions.”

“What does that even mean?” scoffed the clearly annoyed Anti-Defamation League President Jonathan Greenblatt when this reporter asked him for his comment over the phone. “Yentl the Yeshiva Boy is the greatest Yiddish-language short fiction work of all time. Isaac Bashevis Singer had more talent in his nose pimples than that screeching yenta Barbra Streisand has in her entire body. I will never forgive her for releasing a Christmas album for the goyim in 1978 or whenever.”

Greenblatt then put me on hold because he had to “un-fucking-Ponzi that shorts-wearing fried Liver FTX punk,” whoever that is. After returning, Greenblatt and his three attorneys then assured me for 20 minutes that Charles Ponzi was indeed not Jewish, that Leo Frank hadn’t raped anyone, and that Charles Lindbergh was a closet Nazi. He then threatened to sue “into a coma” that brown-skinned shiksa Whoopi Goldberg if she ever called Jews white again.

When I finally asked Greenblatt about David Duke, he read from a prepared statement:

We here at the Zionist Occupation Government (ZOG) condemn anti-Semitism in all its forms, which changes, like, every five minutes, so you should be grateful that you have such diligent Yiddish kopfs like myself keeping track of them lest the next reincarnation of Nebuchadnezzar II, Emperor Hadrian, and Adolf Hitler (cursed be their names!) were to arise in Topeka, Kansas or some red-state haybale hinterland that nobody with an IQ higher than 110 would want to live in, anyway. As for Duke, he’s a piece of shit. He endorsed Trump. Trump’s a piece of shit. Cherem for his grandchildren. Biden did not steal the election, and Jews had nothing to do with it even if he did.

Despite surprising many in the so-called “Alt Right” with his about-face on the age-old Jewish Question, Duke claims that the signs had been there all along.

“Yeah, you know, I always thought Jews were hilarious people,” he said. “Herrnstein and that Shabbat goy Murray came up with IQ in that Bell Curve thing. But they oughta come up with somethin’ even better. Like, FQ — Funny Quotient. ‘Cause the boychiks got it, boy. They tell jokes like Negroes dance and play basketball.”

You can buy Spencer J. Quinn’s novel Charity’s Blade here.

Duke thought for a moment and said, “Hey, Buddy! FQ! Get it? Hahahahahaha!”

After going on a 30-minute tangent to determine his favorite Jewish comedian’s autobiography (It’s Not Easy Being Me by Rodney Dangerfield versus Bouncing Back by Joan Rivers), Duke then described his introduction to Jewish humor. “I was still in high school when I ran away from home to pursue my lifelong dream of a career in musical theater,” he began. “And after I shlepped around Hollywood a bit, I tried out to be one of them dancing Nazis in The Producers. And can you believe it? They turned me down! Me! Here I am, an actual freakin’ Nazi — the blond hair, the blue eyes, a real Übermenschen unit (if I do say so myself) — and I can’t even play one in a movie? The balls on that guy! It’s like I was an extra in Hogan’s Heroes for nothing, right?”

Duke then grabbed this reporter by the lapel and spat out his cigar. “That’s when I pointed my finger at that beautiful Jew and swore to him that if he was gonna stop be from being a Nazi in his movie, then I’m gonna go out and be the best goddamn Nazi the world has ever seen! I’m gonna show him! And boy, did I!”

Slumping back in his chair, Duke began to rub his eyes, clearly irritated by something. Soon, tears were streaming down the chiseled features of his handsome Aryan face. Two scantily-clad young women named Cookie and Brittany — both of whom Duke insisted were over 18 — rushed to assist Duke with towels, which he waved off.

“Nah, get me the one with the microfibers,” he instructed. “The red one. It’s behind the cappuccino-maker in the bar in the family room. It’s better for my eczema.”

After drying his eyes, Duke explained further: “But after reading about Ye, I was like, ‘What have I been doin’ these past 50 years?’ You know? The White Youth Alliance, the Klan, the Nazis, the NAAWP, the run for Congress, My Awakening, hanging out with Solzhenitsyn before he kicked — all of that . . . to impress a Jew. Yes, the funniest Jew who ever lived. But still, only a Jew. But was he the one who turned me down? For decades, that question haunted me. Back in the day, whenever I was havin’ it out with Metzger or Carto or whoever, deep down, it was really Mel Brooks I was ragin’ at all this time.”

Duke struggled to stand and was helped up by Cookie and Brittany, who were cooing in his ears. He pointed his finger at me, jaw set in righteous anger.

“And I said to myself, ‘This is the business I’ve chosen! I didn’t ask who turned me down for The Producers, because IT HAD NOTHING TO DO WITH BUSINESS!’”

After returning to his seat, Duke regained his composure, faced reddening with consternation. “Those 14 videotapes I have in my room,” he began. “They’ve been calling my name for years, wanting me to watch them. Beggin’ me. Saying ‘David . . . I’m High Anxiety, David. Watch me. No, watch me, David. I’m Young Frankenstein. I’m Spaceballs, watch me! No! History of the World! No, No, Men in Tights! Watch me!” And after what happened with Ye, I just couldn’t take it anymore. I finally gave in. I dusted off the old VCR, plopped ‘em in, and watched them. I watched them all. Over and over. And you know what? I laughed. I laughed until I cried!”

Duke sniffed and sighed like a lovelorn schoolgirl.

“And that’s when I realized I had been living a lie all these years,” he averred. “What Mel Brooks has shown me is that we can laugh at our differences and still love each other. I love everybody now — blacks, Jews, doesn’t matter. I mean, we’re still different. Just because I laugh at a movie doesn’t mean black people are now smart or Jews aren’t the greedy, soulless, Communist parasites I know damn well they are. I still wanna get as far away from those people as I can. But at least now I can appreciate them as human beings and enjoy them for what they are good at. At least now I’m a happier person.”

As I stepped out onto Duke’s driveway that evening, I faced the angry crowd of White Nationalists who were still picketing in the street outside his home. They were still angry at their leader for his sudden shift on the Jewish Question. But then I smiled and thought to myself, “Your boy David Duke is all right. You are all going to be just fine.”

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