Last Friday the Washington Post published a controversial/batshit/arguably anti-Semitic essay on the night before Passover. A woman who described herself as a WASP announced that she would no longer date Jewish men because Jewish guys and their overbearing mothers suuuuuuuck. (The author of the essay has since apologized.) Amazingly, the piece is still up:

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Over almost seven years and two serious relationships with Jewish men who at first said religion didn’t matter—and then backtracked and decided it did—I’ve optimistically begun interfaith relationships with an open mind twice, only to become the last woman these men dated before settling down with a nice Jewish girl. I can now say with certainty that I am tired of being a Jewish man’s rebellion.

She's sworn off dating Jews—but it's not going to be easy, considering where she lives (NYC) and what she does (theater):

But, living in New York and working in theater, I frequently meet Jewish men. At almost every event I go to, they approach me. As flattered as I am, I don’t welcome the complications and potential heartbreak I’ve experienced back into my life. In the meantime, I’ll continue dating and meeting my friends—Jewish and not—to swap Tinder horror stories over drinks, hopefully while sipping the cocktail I’m determined to create, named “A Jewish Man’s Rebellion.” I’d like it to feature a bourbon base and be garnished with a slice of bacon.

Happy Passover, everybody! (Apparently the editors of the Post were looking at all the grief the New York Times and The Atlantic have been getting and said, "Hey, we want some of that!") But if you thought that would be the craziest, most ill-advised, unhinged personal essay you'd read this week... well, think again:

You thought that you would marry your boyfriend and you thought that everything would work out how you had always imagined. I don't blame you though. He's great. You wanted everything with him, but you were just not right for him. I wish I could say that I am sorry it didn't work out for you, but I can't. I can't because he is mine now, and I get to cherish him forever. You didn't do that right, and you were not meant to be together. You will find someone too, but I am happy that you were not the one for him.

Sometimes I have issues with jealousy, and I hate that you got all of the high school stuff with him. You got to go to games and support him. It kills me that I couldn't be there for him because I know I would have actually been there wholeheartedly. I would have done it out of love, not as a popularity appearance.

I hate that you got to go to all of the school dances with him. He got to see you all dressed up and probably told you how great you looked. I'm sure you did look great. Prom dresses were always fun to pick out and so colorful. It was exciting to match colors with your date. I am sure you had fun choosing his matching tux to your dress.

I find myself getting jealous, but then I stop. I am getting to match his tux with our wedding colors. I got to go dress shopping in a sea of white, and he doesn't get to know one detail about that dress yet. He will get to see me walk down the aisle and then every day forever. I get to love him forever.

We all have issues with jealousy sometimes. But posting an open letter to your fiancé's ex-girlfriend isn't something anyone should do at any time. (Hey, if you're the dude who's about to marry this woman: Dude, ruuuuun. And if your the dude's ex, you might not wanna wait until after this woman breaks into your house and sets your prom dress on fire to get that restraining order.)

In fairness to the person who wrote this vindictive and petty screed—which ran under the headline "You May Have Worn The Prom Dress With Him, But I Get To Wear The Wedding Dress" (!)—she appears to be a college student. But the piece didn't run in a college newspaper. It ran in the Odyssey, "an American internet media company that operates based on a crowdsourced model, receiving articles from a base of thousands of volunteer authors and edited through their teams of volunteer, outsourced, and professional content strategists." And since the Odyssey isn't a college newspaper what I wrote here doesn't apply...

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There's a step colleges could take that might make it somewhat easier for students to experiment with ideas and grow and learn and screw up without incurring the wrath of the entire Internet: don't put student publications online. It's not a fail-safe plan (other people can upload an inflammatory piece and goad others into piling on), but taking students papers offline would communicate to outsiders that this publication was meant for a campus readership and that the work in it was by students and not meant for worldwide consumption (or condemnation). It would shift the burden of perceived assholery to those who would draw outside attention to the work of a student journalist and sic the entire Internet on some college kid who was only guilty of being young and dumb.

But this piece doesn't scream "young and dumb." It screams "obsessive and unhinged." And it's not in a college publication, it's in some wannabe grownup publication using Huffington Post's original business model, i.e. why pay writers when people will write crap for free?

In conclusion: don't stick your dick in crazy, don't let crazy stick its dick in you, don't go down on crazy, don't let crazy go down on you, don't move in with crazy, don't propose to crazy, don't get married to crazy, and, my God, whatever else you do, do NOT scramble your DNA together with crazy. And this particular kind of jealousy—barely contained rage for an ex—is fucking crazy.

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