{"id":39081,"date":"2017-10-27T15:13:19","date_gmt":"2017-10-27T21:13:19","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.crescentcityjewishnews.com\/?p=39081"},"modified":"2017-10-27T15:13:19","modified_gmt":"2017-10-27T21:13:19","slug":"dybbuks-dont-wait-for-halloween","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.crescentcityjewishnews.com\/blog\/dybbuks-dont-wait-for-halloween\/","title":{"rendered":"Dybbuks Don’t Wait for Halloween"},"content":{"rendered":"

By TED ROBERTS, the SCRIBBLER ON THE ROOF<\/em><\/p>\n

All well-informed Jews know what a dybbuk is. An evil imp, a ghost, a soul stealer. They take many forms. Remember last week you dropped the grocery bag spilling five pounds of sugar, two dozen eggs, and two pounds of flour \u2013 thereby creating the world\u2019s first raw and sweet omelet? A dybbuk! But that\u2019s nothing.<\/p>\n

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How\u2019 bout the time when our president was ranting to a worldwide audience about the danger of Islamic terror and somehow the teleprompter left out an \u201cI\u201d in Shiite Muslim? Wow! Did we hear about that from the English-speaking world. Again, a dybbuk. They thrive on miseries ranging from embarrassment to premature death.<\/p>\n

The reason I\u2019m so knowledgeable about these evil creatures is my Bubbe, who studied them like you study the Standard and Poor listing. (\u201cYou know why Zayde didn\u2019t work for thirty years?\u201d A lazy dybbuk possessed him. I thought it was just because he liked to sit around and eat Bubbe\u2019s cooking, which she blamed on guess who when it was so salty it killed the kitchen cockroaches.)<\/p>\n

She knew World War I wasn\u2019t about all those silly historical conflicts between Germany, Russia, and France, but the dybbuk who jumped in the body of that assassin who killed Franz Ferdinand of Austria. From there the dominoes began to fall and before you knew it \u2013 WWI! And there are Japanese imps, too. (They love sushi, you know.) They sneaked into the soul of Emperor Hirohito. Guess what? WWII.<\/p>\n

Those in the know are aware of a hidden arm of the CIA \u2013 DMA – Dybbuk Monitoring Agency. Who keep up with clandestine activity of these creatures, though experts say their chairman is the great grandson of the devil who took over the body of Al Capone. Remember him? A nice Chicago boy possessed, they say, by multiple dybbuks. And the Mossad is firmly convinced that the current ruler of Iran has long been taken over and they \u2013 the dybbuks \u2013 are at work making deviltry. And they don\u2019t just do their deviltry on the world stage.<\/p>\n

The DMA intercepted a Devilmail (their language) wherein devil No. 1 was bragging to devil No. 2 (without mentioning that he had polluted his email \u2013 they can\u2019t help it) that he had absolutely destroyed a promising love affair between Alan and Rivka. Dybbuks are so clever. Instead of something obvious like giving Rivka a full-bodied, life-long case of Chicken Pox, he contrived to have Alan call her, \u201cJennifer\u201d, his old flame. \u201cJennifer, I love you\u201d. To Rivka! Every time, too. Fun, said Devil 1, but not nearly as exciting as the gold ol\u2019 days when he took over the body and soul of that Austrian corporal. Ah, those were the days.<\/p>\n

I, myself, had a firsthand experience with these creatures once. They\u2019re always after me since they know I\u2019m a dybbuk hunter. It\u2019s supper. Smilingly, we sit at the table. Marital skies are sunny. Marital breezes are soft and refreshing. (An environment set for deception.) I eat a heaping forkful of kugel. (No raisins, which I love, but I say not a word.) But uh oh, I can\u2019t swallow it! I\u2019m ready to scream, \u201cThis isn\u2019t kugel, it\u2019s bubble gum,\u201d but I hesitate. It\u2019s THEM. They\u2019re trying to break up my marriage. Instead, I smile. \u201cWhat lovely kugel,\u201d comes out of my mouth although my eyes are popping out of my head. But I\u2019m in control. I didn\u2019t run the DMA for nothing. \u201cWhat lovely kugel,\u201d I repeat.<\/p>\n

\u201dLiar,\u201d she shouts back.<\/p>\n

Ah, I get it. One of their favorite techniques. \u201cA double pollution\u201d. They infected both her and the kugel. But I recognize it immediately and instead of replying, I reach in my coat and extract a ten-dollar ring, which I carry for such occasions, \u201cA small token of appreciation for a great kugel,\u201d I say to my wife with a courtly bow. A lessor man would have been impaled with his wife\u2019s fork.<\/p>\n

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