[photo] Roseanne Barr dresses up as Hitler and makes burn’t ‘Jew Cookies’

The firestorm is definitely on its way. Can we compare this to the use of the word  nigga in Hip Hop?

via Heeb Magazine

Picture 10

“When you meet her, it’s best if you don’t try to shake her hand,” Roseanne Barr’s makeup artist and longtime friend warns me. “She doesn’t like to be touched by strangers.” OK, no sweaty handshakes. Fair enough. But there’s more. “If you get nervous around Roseanne, try not to show it. She’s like a shark. If she smells fear, she’ll tear you apart,” the makeup artist says.

As I wait for Barr to arrive, I contemplate the pop culture folklore that surrounds her: the alleged multiple personality disorder, the roller coaster relationship with Tom Arnold—which culminated in a bitter divorce—the theory (her own) that she may in fact be the reincarnation of Adolf Hitler, whom she has requested to be dressed as for her Heeb photo shoot. “Nervous” doesn’t begin to describe my feelings about meeting this 5’4” Jewish grandmother.

With her hit sitcom off the air for more than a decade and the tabloid pages of her tumultuous life rotting in landfills, Barr currently spends her time working on a collection of essays on menopause, celebrity, pharmaceuticals and Jewish life in Mormon Utah (to be published by Simon Spotlight Entertainment) and disseminating her signature mix of insights and insults through her blog (Roseanneworld.com). She briefly kept an account with what she now calls “that shit heap” (Twitter) before deleting it, citing as her reason “the idiocy of people and how ill-informed they all seem.” Today, when she brusquely enters the photo studio, she seems none too happy about having been dragged from her self-imposed exile.

“Hello,” she barks in a general greeting to everyone and no one. I approach with the kind of caution usually reserved for wild animals and salute her with a “Sieg Heil” in honor of our shoot. She looks at me blankly and asks, “Who are you?” I do my best to explain, then abruptly break the second Roseanne commandment: “Sorry, I’m a bit nervous,” I stammer. The second the words are out of my mouth I brace myself for the onslaught, but to my surprise I seem to have amused her and Barr softens into the loving, if somewhat irritated, matriarch who charmed a generation.


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