The “Sukkot boxes” that made their way to Amazon.com were more than just a humble cardboard container. They were a linguistic abomination, a grammatical monstrosity, and a slap in the face to the Hebrew language. Or so said the majority of Jewish social media users, who couldn’t get enough of the boxes’ idiocy.
Spelling out “tuchus” in reverse, the product’s creators showcased their remarkable lack of understanding of the Hebrew language, but not for customers, including entrepreneurs Heather Blank of Atlanta and Erin Stern of Baltimore, who thought the mistake was “hilarious” and “priceless”.
The sensation has spread, with Evan Gottlieb, a Jewish educator in Australia, requesting a friend in the US to mail her a set, eager to add to her collection. “I also think it’s always a bit refreshing to have something go Jewish-viral that isn’t heartbreakingly sad or upsetting and is instead a very unfortunate design error,” she said.
Rabbi Yael Buechler, a prominent Jewish digital creator, even found the boxes a welcome distraction from the more serious news of the day. “There’s been so much going on, and we were saying we want shana yoter tova, a year that’s better. And I think we just needed this extra boost of humor leading up to what will be a very tough Sukkot,” she explained.
As for me, I, too, was drawn in by the witty snark and sheer absurdity of the situation. My 9-year-old son, the most enthusiastic expert on things Hebrew, joyfully pointed out the mistake, reading the reversed letters with an air of nonchalance that left me in awe.
A cursory glance at the online reviews further reveals the product’s delightful eccentricity, with customers praising the “crass humor” and “guilty pleasure” of the tuchus boxes. As one reviewer quipped, “It’s like the internet, but in cardboard form.”
Amazon, the behemoth e-commerce platform, has made a business of fostering a marketplace where such products can thrive. According to a 2020 New York Times investigation, many of these “pseudo-brands” are single Chinese manufacturers using multiple invented names to exploit Amazon’s sales algorithms while complying with U.S. trademark laws. These Potemkin vendors, as cultural commentator Cory Doctorow describes them, are designed to “wrest value out of the customers that Amazon has captured.”
Yet, in this particular case, the tuchus boxes have served as a beacon of Jewish joy, farcical as it may be. They have captured the imagination of the online community, offering a much-needed respite from the fast-paced, often overwhelming world of social media.
In the end, the tuchus boxes may be little more than a fleeting internet meme. But for those of us who experienced their brief, shining moment of absurdity, they will remain a nostalgic reminder of the power of humor to bring people together, even in the face of uncertainty and chaos.
