זשאַבע-זיללאַ<p>"The ambivalence at the core of <a href="https://babka.social/tags/hipster" class="mention hashtag" rel="nofollow noopener noreferrer" target="_blank">#<span>hipster</span></a> lent itself to what would become hipster <a href="https://babka.social/tags/Judaism" class="mention hashtag" rel="nofollow noopener noreferrer" target="_blank">#<span>Judaism</span></a>. Was hipster Judaism a sincere reclamation of an identity otherwise shunned as dorky? (<a href="https://babka.social/tags/Hebrew" class="mention hashtag" rel="nofollow noopener noreferrer" target="_blank">#<span>Hebrew</span></a> school: dorky. <a href="https://babka.social/tags/Jewish" class="mention hashtag" rel="nofollow noopener noreferrer" target="_blank">#<span>Jewish</span></a> communal publications: dorky. Parents wanting you to follow traditions: dorky. Eating different foods and celebrating different holidays than everyone else: dorky.) Or was it an ironic embrace of the dorky?</p><p>Nowhere was this ambivalence leaned into more than in the very existence of something called <a href="https://babka.social/tags/Heeb" class="mention hashtag" rel="nofollow noopener noreferrer" target="_blank">#<span>Heeb</span></a>, a 2001-2010 print publication recently brought back to digital life by Mik Moore, a Jewish marketer we recently interviewed on Bonjour Chai. It was slur-reclamation, but not the earnest sort. It leaned into the squirming."</p><p><a href="https://thecjn.ca/arts-culture/hipster-judaism/" rel="nofollow noopener noreferrer" translate="no" target="_blank"><span class="invisible">https://</span><span class="ellipsis">thecjn.ca/arts-culture/hipster</span><span class="invisible">-judaism/</span></a></p>