Black, White-Hot and Read All Over

But who knew Lewis Black's latest tome, Me of Little Faith, would dial up religion and irreverence to push readers' buttons?

Just the millions of fans of the comic/author/actor/playwright whose latest rant of a read hits bookstores this coming Tuesday, just days before his June 8 appearance at the Free Library of Philadelphia in its current celebrity authors series.

Black on black is white-hot -- as fans of "The Daily Show" and his HBO and Comedy Central specials can attest to; the testy testosterone-torpedo of a tummler doesn't so much make a living as give it a run for its money.

His spirited meltdowns would make M&Ms nervous; Black's blood pressure feels the pressure to keep those cuffs on his arms from bursting.

Borscht belt? Far from it: Black belts are comic karate kicks to the solar plexus as he flexes his funny bone in some very funny positions.

Jewish through and through -- although he says adamantly he's through with the religious part and, God forbid one should call him a cultural Jew ("Sounds like a weird kind of yogurt") -- Black is a spectrum of spastic turns and sputtering spittle as a performer, his rabid rants eliciting raves from even the most lucid of lunatics. His occasional TV boss, Jon Stewart, claims Black "is the only person I know who can actually yell in print form."

He does it again in Me of Little Faith, not so much a page-turner as a page-jumper. Black and read all over?

"Judaism," he demands of your attention, "is the perfect neurosis."

Here's a thought: If religion is the opiate of the masses, why is Black so riled up about it?

"Good question," he muses, pausing for a moment.

At 60 -- the same age as Israel, he notes, without inviting it to his party -- he's gained perspective. "Because [religion's] used in so many offensive ways, or somebody is telling you how to behave, like those Jews for Jesus -- that'll bring a crash end to the day."

What's needed -- Preparation H for heaven? Salve for salvation? There's no panacea for the past eight years "of living in a Christian nation," Black harrumphs.

The great Grammy Award-winning comic takes his tsuris seriously. He sees no relief in sight from the next administration, either, which provides comic relief to his fans: "It's a huge shell game" -- and he's not talking about just oil -- he says of the setup at the White House. "And it's not going to be any better with a Democrat. What're they asking? Give us three beans and we'll grow you a vine?"

Obama and the beanstalker? "What's the change? [Democrats] haven't done anything in eight years."

And with a tip of the yarmulke to "Gray's Anatomy," Black's McSteamy over McCain, too. "It would be nice if he'd be running as the sane man he was eight years ago when he made sense, not like what he is today."

Untamed tiger? Grrrr -- he's great! But unlike Tony the Tiger, the comic's no frosted flake. Indeed, Black's no angry arriviste; he's been giving society a hot foot since he discovered that if you torch the soul, you burn the heels.

It all comes ... naturally. "Jews are naturally argumentative," he argues.

No argument there. But call a lavish Bar Mitzvah a real rite of passage, and he'll get right in your face: Bimah him up to such an event, and he likens it to a Cirque du Soleil somersault of extravagance. "I once went to one where they served breakfast, lunch and dinner. It turned into an all-day tour!"

Of course, there was one Bar Mitzvah that had him seeing stars; that was the one in which Black performed -- as he writes so hilariously in his book -- at producer Norman Lear's son's coming-of-age event.

What comes to mind now about that performance?

It wasn't all bad, even though Black thought the legendary producer originally was calling to cast him in a sitcom instead of a bimah.

"I got to meet Julia Binoche," he says.

Black has met up with huzzahs for his hilarity on stage and in his writings. His first book, Nothing's Sacred, was a breakthrough for the comedian with breakaway bravado in which his role as irreverent iconoclast is held in sacred trust by his many fans.

Giving the devil his due? No, says Black, it's due to Judaism that he feels as good as he does. "Without it, I would have been in a lot of trouble," concedes the Washington-born Lewis Niles Black, who forged his persona crossing the river and wading through childhood in Silver Spring, Md.

Judaism "provided a real basis for life. I've had some wonderful rabbis over the years. It's all given me a strong ethical outlook," he says.

Things are looking up for this Yell -- make that Yale -- School of Drama graduate, who earned an MFA from the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill. And shouting it from the hilltops has helped get Black noticed internationally.

With Me of Little Faith, does Black have faith that he is leaving behind a legacy of spiritual spackling? An adhesive for agnostics and adherents?

"What I tried to do," says the rebel with a yell, but here with equanimity, "is leave a trail of notes, saying this is how I did it. And good luck."