Who are The Bupkes?

The Bupkes is a satire magazine by nobody that sometimes says something about very little but most of the time says nothing about everything. But we are more than that: We are the cathartic itch to your weltschmerz scratch. We are Yiddishkeit über alles. We are the side-eye gaze onto a world of absurdity passing itself off as credible.

More than anything, we are bupkes. Join us in the peanut gallery — because the main stage is a farce.

Some things you may find there may include, but are not limited to

  • the doom loop of liberal politics;

  • our collective climate demise — coming to a reality near you!

  • … unless the unstoppable labyrinth of technofeudal tubes gets us first;

  • weltschmerz in the age of exploding pagers;

  • The open-air cagematch between Jewish pluralism and its ethno-nationalist mishpocha;

  • the slinkification of history;

  • everyone’s favorite möchtegern superpower and the depths abyss of its Teutonic Imaginary;

  • European values™;

  • the unending end times of American Empire;

  • media and their discontents;

  • basic human decency;

  • a good sandwich.

Jibe ho! Here comes a masthead.

Secretary-General of Words: Noach Gɫuchowicz

Queen of Style: The Maven

Do you want to join us on our voyage into nothingness? The Bupkes welcomes submissions. If you have a satirical, poetic, or literary bone to pick, be in touch! Because there is no “i” in bupkes — unless you anglicize it differently.


Why not throw us some gelt? Almost all of it goes to Substack and Stripe, and then 100% of what’s left aspires to pay our contributors.