Fill me in, Mitt. How exactly do you Mormons baptize someone who's not only dead, but most likely not even in the neighborhood? I assume you get a guy in a white robe to immerse a pretend person in something filled with water. Or, to keep it simple, he might just throw some water on the absent infidel, which basically means he's throwing water on the floor. Maybe he says a few random blessings and performs a few rituals involving candles; maybe he fills out an official-looking form online and logs it into a database. And so on and so forth.
Well, if it's that easy, why can't I do it?
The thing is, I can.
So today, I decided to un-baptize you, Mitt. I know you're not dead yet, even though the RNC and your campaign staff may think you are.
But so what if you're not technically deceased? So what if I bent the rules a little? That's the beautiful thing about religion -- you can make it up as you go along, kind of like when you said you've always been severely conservative, whatever that means. Maybe you meant severely constipated.
Since Mormon baptism involves water, Jewish un-baptism principally involves sponges and paper towels. So I went ahead and did it without your ... um...blessing. You didn't miss much -- it was kind of a dull, meaningless ritual, not unlike the primary debates. I made up some prayers, chanted some gibberish, lit a few candles that I had left over from last Hanukkah and drank some Mogen David wine because I was out of tequila. To make it official, I Photoshopped a parchment-like document, put your full name -- Willard Mitt Romney -- on the dotted line, and -- presto chango! -- you've been un-baptized.
Which means you're Jewish now, Mitt. Mazel Tov! Welcome to the tribe. L'Chaim!
In case you want to know, your new name is Morris Berkowitz and you're from Queens. You're an adult, but your mother still tells you to always take a sweater. Your mother-in-law lives in Florida. Her name is Bea. She doesn't like you because you're not a doctor. (She voted for Ron Paul because he is a doctor.) Your Bar Mitzvah reception was held at a Chinese restaurant in Flushing Meadows and you received four alarm clocks and six copies of The History of the Jewish People.
Here's some good news, Mitt. Being Jewish will open up a whole new world for you, especially on the debate stage. For example, now you can change your whole political vocabulary. When you lose the next primary, you can kvetch (complain.) When Santorum says something really stupid, you can say he's meshuganah (crazy.) And let's face it, that cockamamie alter kocker (ridiculous, crabby old guy) Rand Paul is nothing but a nudnik (a pest.) As for that gonif (thief) Gingrich, he makes you brech (gag or vomit.)
Nobody will know what you're talking about, but nobody knows what you're talking about now, so what's the difference?
Of course, one of the downsides is that your exclusive country club will probably not renew your membership, although they'll say it's about something else.
But never mind that. The big question is this: Will you be requiring a... um... bris?