Hilarious Song/Video about Kitniyot

Enjoy!

Exodus: Darkness And Death - The Final Chapter

After 3 years of writing and re-writing, my re-telling of the 10 Plagues is complete! I hope you enjoy the story and share it with friends and family this Pesach.

Please read parts one, two, and three before this final chapter.

Lunar eclipses were a celebrated thing in Egypt. It meant that the sun god Ra was prevailing in its ongoing struggle with the lesser deity of the moon. Solar eclipses, on the other hand, were considered a bad omen. They demonstrated that Ra had weakened and almost succumbed to the assaults of his enemy. The former indicated good fortune for the empire, the latter was a harbinger of evil things in the world. While an exact system of calculating the occurrences of these cosmological phenomena had yet to be perfected, the royal astronomers, the most elite scholars in their field, knew that Ra only lost on an infrequent basis.

Thus, the unexpected appearance of a solar eclipse at this particular point in time, so soon after another that happened a few years beforehand, was a terrifying thing to behold. Even more so, given the fact that the eclipse did not clear up within a few minutes as eclipses had always done in the past.

At midday, the time period normally associated with the hottest, most scorching temperatures of the spring season, the sun started to grow dim. A wave of cool air blew throughout Egypt, and the collective shiver of the populace was palpable around the entire empire. Confused at the unexpected drop in temperature, everyone ran outdoors to discover the source of the disturbance. To their shock, what normally would have been a bright noontime, with the sun hovering at its apex, was a quickly becoming more akin to dusk when the sun set at the end of each day. The sun wasn’t descending to its usual resting place, but it was very visibly losing strength at an alarmingly rapid rate.

Soon the sun had vanished from the sky, and the stars became visible as though it were the middle of the night. Though the unforeseen astronomic occurrence was bewildering, the shock began to wear off, and the people figured the sun would shine again in a short while.

Then the stars began to die.

One by one, the bright specks glittering throughout the night-like sky flickered and vanished. The people gasped with every luminary that winked out of existence. It seemed as though a cloud of black miasma was swallowing the heavens. Lastly, the moon itself wavered and was consumed by the spreading darkness.

Panic quickly set in, and the people stumbled over one another in their haste to return to their homes to fetch any candles or torches they had available. Of course, the upper class were least affected by this turn of events, since their wealth allowed them to purchase large amounts of high quality sources of artificial light. Pharaoh Ramses II quickly stepped in, decreeing an official government imposed rationing of candles. The Royal stock of candles was distributed among the poorer Egyptians, and large amounts were confiscated from aristocratic families and reallocated to needier residents of the empire.

Of course, as the unnatural blackout continued, candle supplies dwindled and began to run out. As the week went on, all the remaining artificial light dried up like ephemeral puddles of water following a transient desert rain storm. The Egyptian people began to descend into the pit of despair. Without any means of identifying one another or their very surroundings, paranoia quickly set in. Men and women across the empire locked themselves in their homes, afraid of who – or what – might trespass their private dwellings under cover of the inky darkness. 

Increasingly, an attitude of self-preservation infected their minds. Trust broke down entirely, and soon everyone retreated to whatever personal quarters they had, avoiding all possible contact with any other human being. How could you believe that the disembodied voice in the room down the hall was really your father, wife, or child? Perhaps there were murderers, vandals, and criminals sulking about seeking mischief, or maybe the Hebrew leader Moses had summoned some other monstrosity to kill Egyptians when no one could come to their defense?

Eventually, the nightmares generated by the waking minds of the Egyptian people were so terrifying that they could not think of even lifting a finger, lest whatever was out there detected the motion and attacked. Breathing became difficult, and the people literally froze in place, wherever they were, unable to move whatsoever.

Just when things seemed to be at their worst, the sounds of doors opening and rapid footsteps echoed throughout houses everywhere. Many elderly Egyptians suffered heart attacks from fright and died standing or sitting wherever they had hidden. The younger, heartier members of the populace were treated to spectral visitors, noises and voices that flitted about their homes, opening drawers and cabinets. Out of the gloom questions were asked regarding their gold and silver, where it was stored, how it could be accessed, and what it was worth. The interlopers remained but a few minutes, then vanished as mysteriously as they had appeared.

Thankfully, the soul-consuming shadows began to recede. Perhaps Ra had finally reasserted his light-giving powers? Regardless of the reason, the Egyptians breathed a sigh of relief as their sight and movement were slowly restored. Surprisingly, beyond the disturbing visitations, no actual harm befell the survivors during their days spent as statues. When full mobility returned, concerned homeowners ran to their safes and jewelry boxes to check on their valuables. To their amazement, nothing had been taken; everything was in exactly the same place as they had left it.

However, the Egyptian people’s patience with Ramses and his administration’s negotiations with Moses was wearing thin. Having endured nine supernatural, punishing wonders thus far, they had no desire to suffer through another. The Pharaoh’s public statements began to transform from convincing arguments that drew on national pride in the face of adversity to mindless assertions of dominance based on principle alone. The people were not willing to face further bodily harm and possible death because of Ramses “The Great’s” ballooning ego.  Sentiments of forming a popular uprising against the government began to percolate throughout Egypt.

~~~

 “Hello Egyptian Empire, and welcome to Plague Watch 2448!” Tut-hak-bur announced.

“That’s right, Tut,” his co-anchor, Qeela replied. “We’re counting down the minutes until the supposed tenth and final plague that Moses, the Hebrew slaves’ self-appointed leader, has proclaimed will befall Egypt.”

“Deeeeeeeath of the first boooooorn,” Tut-hak-bur waggled his fingers, his voice warbling in a mocking, spooky tone.

Qeela smacked him on the shoulder, “Cut that out,” she whispered tersely.

Rubbing his arm, Tut-hak-bur’s face was a mask of offense. “That hurt, you know.”

“Eet ees eemposseeble!” An off-screen male voice declared.

Qeela arranged her cue cards and refocused on the camera. “We sit here with the esteemed, world-renowned expert and professor of comparative beliefs and religious science, not to mention chief science advisor to Pharaoh Ramses II, Dr. Muthra Banjiz.  The camera’s view shifted to the right, where a special desk had been added for the live news segment.

A short statured man with a dour face that was partially obscured by a large, thick monocle, sat ramrod straight at his desk. He seemed to stare off into space at some point above and behind the camera, giving him a haughty air of authority and aloofness.

“Eet ees scienteefeecally eemposseeble for thee entire first born population to die out in a seengle moment. All thee other so-called “plagues” this charlatan Moses has preedeected have perfectly seemple scienteefeec explanations,” he pronounced in his high-pitched, carefully articulated, academic drone.  

Dr. Banjiz reached down and lifted a papyrus chart attached to a flat piece of wood and propped it up on the desktop next to him. He pulled a pointer from his breast pocket and gestured at the upper left corner of the diagram.

“Heere wee have thee eeneeshul alleged plague, thee purported “blood” that contaminated thee Nile Reever,” he indicated a long squiggle that shifted from blue to red as it progressed. “What actually occurred was a natural happening, which has taken place many, many times, as reecorded in scienteefic heestoree,” he jutted his chin outward in contempt.

“And what would be that explanation, doctor?”

Dr. Banjiz turned his nose upward and adjusted his monocle. “Eet ees extremely  compleecated and far beyond the understanding of thee average viewer, but I will say een summation that eet has to do weeth the lifecycle of thee noble barking weasel!” He pointed at a caricature of a small brown rodent standing next to the pictured blood.

Tut-hak-bur and Qeela exchanged confused glances.

“At any rate, based on my scienteefeec background and eenormous level of eentelleegence, I am one hundred percent certain that no such ‘final’ plague will befall thee Egyptian populace. Eet defies the very essence of science as we know eet.”

Somewhat unconvinced, Qeela smiled at the camera, “And there you have it folks, straight from the expert!”

Tut-hak-bur coughed into a fist nervously then turned to his co-anchor. “Well, Qeela, we’re now in the final moments before the stroke of midnight…” He fell quiet. “By the way,” he said, his tone perking up, “did I mention I’ve been thinking about converting to the Hebrew faith?”

Qeela eyes widened and her jaw dropped, “What are you talking about, Tut?”

“Well,” Tut-hak-bur twiddled his fingers. “I heard rumors that there was going to be a group consisting of a mixed multitude of Egyptians from various castes planning on joining up with the Hebrews when they make their supposed big ‘exodus.’ It kind of sounds like fun, if you ask me.”

“That ees the seelee-est theeng I have ever heard!” Dr. Banjiz quipped from off camera.

“What are you afraid of, Tut, are you a first born or something?” Qeela asked.

“Well,” Tut-hak-bur began, then paused to take a sip of coffee from his mug. An abrupt “urk” sound emanated from his mouth and the mug dropped from his grasp and shattered on the news desk.

“Tut! I just got this back from the washing lady!” Qeela exclaimed in disgust, dabbing at her wardrobe with a tissue. 

Tut-hak-bur began coughing violently and fell off his chair onto the floor where he writhed spasmodically while grabbing at his throat. Qeela signaled the station manager who ran out onto the set to see if Tut-hak-bur was alright. After a moment, he had the fallen anchor sitting up and helped Tut-hak-bur back to his place at the desk.

“S-sorry!” He choked. “Went down the wrong pipe.”

~~~

Numa woke up startled, and reached over to feel the empty side of the bed next to her. Riqtun, her husband, wasn’t there. She sighed and shook her head scornfully. He was probably in the kitchen eating a midnight snack, just like the doctor told him not to. After his most recent health report, Numa repeatedly begged her husband to cut out the late-night treats.  Even if he didn’t care about his expanding girth, he should at least show some concern for her sake so that he wouldn’t have a heart attack and leave her a widow.

Determined to nip this bad habit in the bud, Numa got out of bed and wrapped a robe around her shoulders, tying the fabric belt in a bow. She removed the small lantern from the alcove outside their bedroom and crept down the hallway toward the kitchen. She hoped she’d catch him in the act and get a chance to rub his nose in it a bit.

As she approached the doorway, she caught a glimpse of the wide-opened pantry and a devious smile formed on her lips. Numa waited for a moment to compose the wording of her reprimand and stepped into the kitchen. Her eyes darted back and forth for evidence of her husband’s proscribed snack. Several half-eaten pieces of bread, along with some dried meat strips and a half-full mug of date beer sat on the table. Curiously, Riqtun was nowhere to be found.

“Riq?” She asked, straining to hear any sounds that might indicate his presence. “Riq, are you in here? Were you disobeying the doctor’s orders again?” Numa’s voice echoed in the darkness. As she peered around the room, she felt something compel her to lower her gaze to the floor. At the edge of the unoccupied chair, she noticed a bare foot that led to a leg concealed behind the rest of the chair and the table.

“Riq!?” She cried out, dropping the lantern onto the table and rushing over to her husband’s prone form. 

“Riq, Riq! Are you okay?! What happened!?” His eyes were open, but vacantly stared upward. 

She patted him on the right cheek and was horrified to discover how cold and clammy his skin felt. Numa jabbed her index and middle finger under his jaw, but felt no pulse nor did she detect his chest rising or falling.

Gripped by a mixture of dread and a mounting sense of grief, Numa stood up, grabbed the lantern and ran outside. She raced to her older brother’s home two houses over to get help.

As soon as she opened the door, Numa felt as though she had stepped in a mad house. Her sister-in-law Taki was bawling uncontrollably, while their younger daughter Reja sat on the floor, cradling the unmoving form of her older brother. Numa’s brother Proq was collapsed across a couch, limbs splayed out in odd directions.

Numa spun on her heel and raced back out into the street, sprinting the other way down the block and turned the corner to reach her eldest son’s home. As she approached, she noticed a single, sputtering lantern hanging by the doorway, its oil running low. She hurriedly ducked inside and forced herself to confront the scene that she knew, deep down, awaited her.

In the bedroom, her daughter-in-law Bimat kneeled at the edge of the bed, arms spread across her husband’s unmoving torso. Stricken with anguish, Numa knelt next to Bimat and placed her shaking arm on the younger woman’s shoulder. They cried together for a few moments before their sobs gave way to muffled sniffles as each covered her own mouth with a hand in an attempt to stifle the tears. A mournful silence enveloped them both.

Then Numa heard it: The wailing. She left her daughter-in-law and ventured outside, where she discovered that cries are coming from every house on the block and even those beyond her sight. A cold wind cut through her night robe and a piece of papyrus slapped against her calf. She bent over to pick it up. It was a gossip newspaper, with hieroglyphs depicting rumors that Moses claimed his Hebrew deity was going to wipe out the first-born Egyptian population at the stroke of midnight.

Numa crumpled the papyrus in her hand, releasing it to the grip of the biting breeze. She stared up at the cloudless sky, a full moon shining like a ghostly demon, and her own weeping joined the chorus of moans, cries, and screams filling the nighttime air.

~~~

Suddenly, both anchors held their hands to their earpieces.

Tut-hak-bur cleared his throat, “It seems we have a breaking story at the Royal Palace where Pharaoh Ramses the Great will address the Empire.”

“Our roving reporter, Geg-kon-fil, is on the scene ready to fill us in on all the details. Fil, are you there?”

“Indeed I am, Tut and Qeela, and I have to say, the Pharaoh doesn’t look like he’s feeling too well.” The camera shifted to show a podium affixed with the royal emblem on the front.

Ramses, dressed in crocodile skin pajamas, looked frantic. Sweat glistened on his forehead and his breathing was visibly erratic. After a moment’s hesitation, he wiped the perspiration with the back of his hand and stared straight into the cameras.

“Moses, you win.”

“What did he say? Did he just say what I think he said?!” Qeela asked, shocked. Tut-hak-bur shushed her.

Pharaoh took another labored breath. “Do you hear me, Moses? You win. Your G-d has defeated me.” He again dabbed at his face, this time with a kerchief provided by an attendant.

“Take your people. All of them,” he spoke haltingly. “Just go,” he waved his hand weakly in a dismissive gesture. Ramses swallowed hard and scanned the gathered reporters and their crew.

Then Pharaoh’s eyes rolled upward, flashing their whiteness, and he collapsed. The camera view became shaky as people rushed in toward the fallen monarch

“It appears that Pharoah has fainted!” Geg-kol-fil shouted above the clamor, as guards ushered in medical team led by the royal physician. “The palace media supervisor is ordering all cameras and microphones to be shut off, I’m afraid I won’t be able to keep-” the reporter’s voice gave way to static and the footage went dark.

Back in the studio, Tut-hak-bur and Qeela seemed at a loss for words. The director waved at them from behind the camera and cleared his throat noisily. Both of them looked up and regained their focus.

“We’ll keep you updated on the Pharaoh’s condition,” Qeela began.

“Along with the unfolding events surrounding the Hebrews’ impending departure,” Tut-hak-bur interjected.

“…As soon as we receive more information,” Qeela concluded.

Silence filled the studio, and no one seemed to know what to do next.

“Well… goodnight,” Tut-hak-bur forced his brightest smile. Qeela somberly nodded.

The broadcast faded to black.  

Pesach 5773 Music Videos!

Pesach is quickly approaching, and the newest batch of music (and other) videos are being posted every day.

Aish.com has an incredibly well done modern newscast version of the 10 plagues and the exodus, a follow-up to their similarly very impressive Google Exodus from 2 years ago.

 


The Maccabeats are  with their first-ever Pesach video, based on Les Miserables (inspired by Shalom Sesame?). A definite musical departure from their past videos, but the cinematography and performance is excellent.




Six13 released a new Pesach parody medley, as a follow up to last year's hit video, this one's titled "Pesach Shop.




The sequel to last year's "Stuff People Say On Pesach" is titled "Stuff People Say At The Seder."



Here's an interesting, and different video, "An Israeli soldier's song to the world on Passover."




Livingwithjudaism has a song based on "Wicked" titled "A Wicked Passover Video." (features a female vocalist).

Beth Tfiloh Day School offers some cute, but wise advice, "Don't Sit on the Afikomen"




Imma Cast presents "Will You Let Us Go."

This Week In Weather: Locusts!

I can only imagine that this could be actually happening in Egypt as we speak - a real-world manifestation of the incident found in my the third part of my story "Exodus: A Pesach Story," titled "Ice, Fire, and Bugs O' Plenty."

It turns out that the Giza region of Egypt (where all the Pyramids are located) is currently undergoing a locust swarm consisting of some 30 million of the insects. Check out the video above!

Not a current picture, but still neat. Image Source.

How's that for a modern reminder of the upcoming Pesach holiday?

It's Pesach, Pesach / Gotta Get Clean For Pesach

Although I have already created a post collecting all the Youtube Pesach music videos, but this new one deserves it's own mention.

A friend from YU named Mordechai Tiefenbrunn has created his own parody of Rebecca Black's (in)famous Youtube phenomenon "Friday" called "Pesach." I like the lyrics a lot, and now I want someone to make a professionally recorded version - complete with music video, of course.



In other news, I hope to have the fourth and final part of "Exodus" completed in time for Pesach, so you'll be able to print out all four sections and share them with your family... I can dream, can't I?

No Maccabeats Video For Pesach! But Here Are Some Others Worth Watching

I'm not sure why this bit of factual news hasn't circulated around the internet yet, which is rife with expectations and anticipation for the supposed Maccabeats Pesach video. Unfortunately, with the time constraints of their many different schedules it just isn't possible to write and record a new song (some may be familiar with the derailing of their second album because of Candlelight). This is aside from the time and energy required shoot, edit and produce the video.

So, sorry, Maccabeats fans.

However, there are a number of other Pesach videos to keep us preoccupied until the next Maccabeat release.

Perhaps the best Jewish Accapela group out there (sorry Maccabeats, maybe one day, haha) Six13 has a new album for sefira and a new video called "P-A-S-S-O-V-E-R."



UPDATE (4/14/11): From Kol Ish, we have the parody song "Just Had Chametz," a take off of a very notorious/popular and very innappropriate song. I won't write the title here, not because I'm a prude, but because I'm worried about search engines and spammers. It's pretty funny, though has it's own crude/euphemistic moments. I think it's better done than the "I Just Broke Shomer," version.

In the vein of of "Llama song," we have this little gem called "Matza, matza fish."



From Jewish Treats we have "Best Seder in the USA," which for some reason isn't getting many hits, despite it's catchiness (or perhaps people are anti-Miley Cyrus music).



The Fountainheads, who competed with The Maccabeats for Purim Song Popularity released a new song/video called "Dayenu, Coming Home." Note: This features women singing and dancing, as in their previous video. This is the second mainstream Jewish video to utilize the very catchy/popular Celo Green's song "Forget You," after Jew Man Group's "Bar'chu! I'm a Jew."

For the older rock-favoring crowd we have "Passover/I'm Going to a Seder" by The What's Up Band.



This one's a little strange, submitted by a friend of mine. I'm not sure how to translate the Russian titles, but it's basically "Go Down Moses," originally by Louis Armstrong performed by some Russian army chorus/band. I've gotta say, the singer's impression of Louis Armstrong sounds a lot like a Russian Louis Armstrong.



In the non-musical department, we have Ayeka Passover, mockumentary-style short which I think is pretty hilarious (at least on the first viewing).



Lastly, we have the Google Exodus, which I think is by far the most creative entry this Pesach video season. It's very well done, and doesn't simply take off of an established motif, as the other videos do. It's the only video that has cracked the million view mark (though Fountainhead is catching up), which doesn't surprise me at all given it's uniqueness.



Enjoy! And please feel free to send me any other Pesach Youtube videos that are out there from this year you might know about.

Ice, Fire, and Bugs O'Plenty

Exodus: Part 3 - Don't forget the first and second chapters!

The day was overcast; the sky filled with angry grey clouds. Mysterious specks of light appeared, shining through the murky haze. They increased in size, appearing like torches encased in glass, hurtling through the sky. Egyptians milling about in the open-air markets froze in their tracks and beheld the odd, unidentified objects mysteriously travelling through their airspace.

The first boulder sized chunk of ice crashed through Tik-tik’s fresh juice stand, blasting it into splinters and spraying multi-colored beverages everywhere like an explosion of blood. A gout of flames burst forth from the shattered ice, burning the remains of the cart to cinders.

Fortunately, Tik-tik himself had just closed up shop and stepped out on his lunch break. The successive booming impacts and screams of terror sent him running outside the nearby falafel joint where he beheld his ruined business cart and the mounting pandemonium. Shoppers and shopkeepers alike fled on foot and animal back away from the pedestrian mall as every structure in sight was pummeled by giant hailstones and set aflame by the fiery embers within.

The extremely unusual hailstorm, the nature of which defied court meteorologists’ explanation, ravaged the country, damaging numerous public and private buildings. Even the royal palace’s pool house was blasted into smithereens and reduced to ash. Sadly, the Pharoah’s personal pool maintenance staff and lifeguards were among the casualties of that particular incident.

Egypt’s leading scientists were utterly discombobulated by the strange ice plus fire phenomenon. Oq Yun-bib, Professor of Elements at Ramses the Great University was baffled why the ice simply would not melt and extinguish the flames within. He repeatedly insisted in media outlets that conventional scientific wisdom had all but confirmed that the triad of elements, earth, fire and water had a specific, and rather un-nuanced system of dominance. Water, or in this case, ice melting into water, should have easily overcome the fire inside the hailstones.

The overwhelmed fire chief discovered his men were woefully ill-equipped to stop the spreading blazes. Despite their predicament, they continued risking life and limb in an attempt to perform their job as the explosive projectiles continued to rain down in a torrential fashion. As injuries and the death toll began to rise, Pharaoh Ramses II authorized the premature opening of the in-progress royal tombs to serve as underground shelters for thousands of homeless, distraught Egyptians.

~~~

A deeply tanned, pot-bellied, middle-aged man with an oversized mustache danced across the screen flapping his arms wildly. “So come by and visit Crazy Kamal’s Used-Camel Emporium!” He shouted. “You can’t find a better deal or better quality camels…” Kamal slapped the flank of a large camel standing next to him, “Anywhere!” The startled animal promptly spat in Kamal’s face.

The commercial ended, and the Egyptian News Network logo appeared.

“We now go to Zamtar the weatherman for this week’s forecast!” Tut-hak-bur announced.

Qeela crossed her arms in front of her on the desk. “What have you got for us today, Zamtar?”

“Thank you Tut and Qeela,” Zamtar nervously unrolled a scroll of papyrus and scanned the hieroglyphs inscribed there.

“Well, Zamtar?” Qeela tapped her fingers impatiently. Zamtar ruffled the scroll fretfully, clearly unsure what was going on. Gulping, he uttered a single word.

“Locusts.”

“Locusts?” Qeela and Tut wondered aloud in unison.

“Yes,” Zamtar glanced at his papyrus again. “Locusts.”

“Zamtar, locusts isn’t weather. Rain is weather. Sandstorms are weather. Hail is-” Tut-hak-bur put a hand on Qeela’s arm. Realizing her insensitive goof, Qeela made an embarrassed, wide-eyed face and quickly clamped a hand over her mouth.

“Let’s take a look at the chart,” Zamtar signaled two off-screen assistants who walked onto the stage with a large scroll. One firmly grabbed the top and bottom edges while the other grasped the open flap and extended it to reveal the image within. The large map showed an outline of the Egyptian Empire, including little details like the various bends of the Nile River, the Royal tombs, the Sphinxes, the in-progress pyramids and treasure storehouses the Hebrew slaves had been building, the nearby Reed Sea and the occasional palm tree thrown in for good measure. A smiley faced sun god filled the upper left corner.

“Since early this morning, we have been experiencing strong eastern winds blowing in from the direction of the Reed Sea,” Zamtar gestured toward a few elongated spirals with tails that began near a large wavy image and stretched toward the residential areas. “You may have also noticed the steady buzzing sound that’s been progressively getting louder over the weekend.”

“I’ve been wondering what that was!” Tut-hak-bur exclaimed. Qeela slapped his shoulder to quiet him.

Zamtar coughed and ruffled his cue-card. “This trend is predicted to continue into the morning, where the winds will pick up speed. The result,” he hefted a stone hieroglyph stamp and inkpad, “is not going to be pretty” Zamtar dipped the stamp and gently pressed it to the map, leaving behind a little imprint that resembled a squiggle with wings over the western bank of the Reed Sea.

“Well, that doesn’t seem too bad, Zamtar!” Qeela interrupted.

“That’s just Monday morning around sunrise,” he continued. “As the day goes on, conditions will continue to deteriorate,” he added three more winged squiggles.

“That’s still not so terrible. We’ve had locust swarms pass through before,” Tut-hak-bur said, turning to Qeela. “Those things can’t fly, right?”

Re-inking his stamp, Zamtar cleared his throat and announced, “Then the rest of the week will look a bit like this.” He furiously jabbed the stamp all over the map, punching through the papyrus twice before running out of ink.

“Oh my,” Qeela recoiled.

Breathing hard, Zamtar turned back to the camera with a nervous smile, “And that’s it for this week in weather!”

Tut-hak-bur and Qeela sat in stunned silence as Zamtar finished his segment. After a moment, Tut-hak-bur shakily adjusted his tie and looked at his co-anchor.

“Remind me to tell the missus I’m going to need a new pair of galoshes."

Inyanei D'Yoma: Exodus

Since we just started reading Sefer Shemos, and the first few parshiyos deal with the actual exodus from Mitzrayim as well as the ten plagues, I figure now is as good a time as ever to bring everyone's attention to my unfinished "Exodus: A Pesach Story."

Please read - and comment on J - parts one and two, which I posted last Pesach and later in June. Going though shnayim mikrah v'echad targum last week got me re-inspired to dig up the incomplete third and final chapter, which I hope to finish and post soon (before these particular parshiyos are over).

Part 1

Part 2

Enjoy (and comment)!

Exodus: A Pesach Story - Part Two

NOTE: I apologize for taking so long to finish this story, which started out on a creative whim during Pesach - see part one here. Due to the length of the story, I've divided the final section into two chapters. The final part will be posted sometime in the (hopefully) not too distant future. Enjoy!

A montage of video clips flashed across the TV screens of Egyptian TVs tuned in for the evening news. A small smiling child pets a camel’s head, palm fronds sway in the breeze, and a fisherman shows off his latest catch from the Nile. Lastly, a close up of the royal pyramids zooms out and the image transforms into a well-known silhouette logo. Three hieroglyphs flash onto the screen, accompanied by a deep, booming voice that declared “This is E-N-N. The Egyptian News Network.”

The lights in the studio brightened, revealing Tut-hak-bur and Qeela sitting at their broadcast desk. Both had a clothespin firmly clamped over their nose.

“Good evening, Egyptian Empire!” Qeela’s voice was noticeably more nasal than usual. “Our top story tonight continues our ongoing coverage of the mysterious plague of frogs that has afflicted the nation,” she reached over her shoulder and scratched at her back. “Court herpetologists announced today that they have identified the unknown disease that killed the millions of amphibians as a rare kind of fungus.”

Tut-hak-bur continued. “In an effort to contain exposure to potential disease, sanitation workers equipped with haz-mat suits began the cleanup process by gathering the noxious corpses into piles on street corners.”

“You don’t need to tell me, Tut,” Qeela smiled, shifting to a more playful tone. “I can smell them from here!” They shared a hearty chuckle. “And if anyone has developed a taste for frog legs, public health officials strongly advise against cooking and ingesting the little critters. Geriatric citizens residing in “Sphinx Tower,” Egypt’s premiere retirement facility, displayed vicious symptoms acute gastroenteritis after partaking of a “special lunch” organized by Sphinx Tower administration.”

“Ow, Qeela, that sounds painful!” Tut-hak-bur rubbed his stomach in an exaggerated comic fashion and stuck out his tongue.

“You’ve got that right, Tut!” She giggled politely. Suddenly, Qeela stopped laughing, producing a halting snort sound. Her hand quickly shot up to her earpiece, and Tut-hak-bur followed suit.

After a moment, Tut-ha-bur looked up into the camera, his expression very serious. “It seems like we have a developing situation in the streets of Memphis. We now go like to our good friend and trusty remote reporter, Geg-kon-fil.” Tut-hak-bur rubbed the back of his scalp absentmindedly.

The newscast shifted to a shot of Geg-kon-fil wearing a gas mask, standing in front of a large flaming pyre. “Well, Tut and Qeela, have I got a story for you!”

“Tell us more, Fil!” Qeela implored.

“I’m standing here in downtown Memphis where protesters from the Hebrew Manual Labor Coalition have doused several dozen piles of dead frogs with crude petroleum and then ignited them with torches,” he gestured to the burning mound behind him and coughed several times. “I have to tell you, Qeela and Tut, if you thought nothing smelled worse than decomposing frogs, I can testify that the stench of frog flambé is far more repulsive.”

“I’ve been saying this a lot lately, as you well know, Tut, but I’m glad you’re down there and we’re back up here, Fil.”

“Why, thank you, Qeela,” Geg-kon-fil replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm. He cleared his throat into the microphone through his mask. “Rumors are circulating that the fiery demonstrations were encouraged by Moses and his rabble rousers. The fact that the Hebrew messianic cult has seen a recent surge in membership adds credence to the scuttlebutt on the street.”

“Well, thank you for the report Fil,” Tut-hak-bur said. “Try not to breath in too much of that burnt frog smoke, it could be bad for your health.”

“Oh, I never inhale, Tut,” Geg-kon-fil winked as his production team switched off his video feed. Tut-hak-bur yanked at his collar in an exaggerated fashion, mouthing “hoo boy,” and Qeela shook her head slightly.

“In other news,” Qeela shifted her papyrus note cards then vigorously stroked her forearm. “Earlier this week, the Egyptian public school system was rocked with the worst case of lice ever recorded.”

Tut-hak-bur squirmed uncomfortably in his chair. “An effort to quarantine the student body of the original infested school proved to be ineffective,” he slipped a hand down his back. “Parents were soon affected after prolonged exposure to their children kept at home. Shortly thereafter, the plague spread from house to house until nearly all of Egypt is now scratching madly without rest. A multitude of remedies, both homemade, such as mayonnaise-based shampoo, and those created by the Pharaoh’s medical staff, including costly herbal body sprays, have failed to curb the severity of the people’s suffering.

Qeela gingerly rubbed her cheek trying not to smear her makeup. “The Hebrews, largely confined to the Goshen sector, remain unaffected. Even those Hebrews who freely circulated in the Egyptian neighborhoods seemed to have an immunity that health officials described as “miraculous” and “the finger of G-d.”

“Gah! I can’t take it anymore!” Tut-hak-bur cried out, flinging his note cards in all directions, and vigorously scratched himself with both hands, alternating between his scalp and his torso. He fell off his chair convulsing, while continuing to swipe at the unseen creatures biting his skin.

Qeela suddenly started digging her fingers into her wig, which wobbled back and forth on her head. “W-we’ll be right back after a word from our sponsors!”

~~~

Just as things began to quiet down after the lice infestation mysteriously vanished, news offices received scattered sightings of wild beasts that did not belong in residential areas. In one instance, a housewife answered her front door expecting the mailman, and was instead greeted by an eight-foot-tall polar bear standing on its hind legs. The bear wore a slightly chewed mailman’s hat and a carrier satchel full of papyrus scrolls hanging from its shoulder. The alarmed woman managed to slam the door before the mail-bear entered her home and promptly phoned her husband at his office. When the scene was investigated, scat, foot prints, and torn pieces of a delivery uniform were found, but no actual bear.

Although the initial series of calls were waved off as heat stroke hallucinations caused by a rise in temperatures, eyewitness reports continued to pour into local law enforcement and animal control offices.

An official statement from Ramses II’s public spokesman claimed that a travelling zoo was attacked by bandits and the attractions were set free by the marauders after the cash box was looted. However, when people began showing up in hospitals in increasing numbers with injuries consistent with animal bites and puncture wounds that appeared to be caused by animals claws, the cover story lost its veneer of truth. Animal control officers were ordered to roam the streets in riot gear, announcing that all citizens must remain indoors. Thankfully, after the Egyptian people complied and barricaded themselves in their homes, the number of casualties dropped.

Until the giant octopi arrived, that is.

Thatched roofs and mud huts didn’t stand a chance against two-hundred-foot-long extremely prehensile tentacles with suckers the size of dinner plates. Displaying a surprising resilience to the arid desert conditions, the gargantuan mollusks travelled by crawling across the tops of buildings, deliberately removing roofing as they went (and snacking on the occasional pet). As a result, the more agile critters - mostly monkeys and apes, but a few wild cats as well - scaled the walls and terrorized the previously secure inhabitants.

After days of fighting off emus, monitor lizards, and wolverines, the people were beside themselves with anxiety and exhaustion. Just as Ramses was about to give into Moses’ demands, all the animals stopped mid-rampage and wandered off in different directions. The Pharaoh announced that he had finally exerted enough spirit power to commandeer the minds of the creatures from the Hebrew magic.

In response, the Hebrew Manual Labor Coalition protests continued and increased in fervor.

~~~

Kuj-vi sat up in bed just as the rooster began to crow, like he did every day. A long, drawn-out yawn passed his lips, and he stretched both arms upward. His wife Bellim rolled over, still sound asleep. He smiled at her in the dimness of their room; the sunlight was just beginning to filter in through their window. Kuj-vi hitched up his cotton overalls and slid into his muck boots. Plodding over to the screen door, he reached for his fancy-weave imported straw hat, which hung on a nail poking out of the wall. It was the one indulgence he granted himself, especially since the hat was the least likely thing to get splattered with manure, animal saliva, or cattle fodder.

Stepping outside into the cool morning air, Kuj-vi rubbed his eyes to help shake off the sleepiness that clung to him like a wet blanket. He moseyed on over to the feed-shed behind his humble abode and filled a pair of buckets with bran in preparation to fill up the breakfast troughs. Although Kuj-vi lived a simple life as Pharaoh’s head cattle-rancher, he took pride in his hard work. Every day, he made sure all the oxen and other royal herds were well fed, took them out to pasture to get exercise, and then rounded up the thousands of animals for the return trip back to the heavily guarded corral.

The last week or so had been a humdinger. Kuj-vi had to call in extra guards and even a couple of archer squads to keep the carnivorous critters from stealing and eating his charges. When all the commotion finally ended, Kuj-vi was quite grateful to have the peaceful hum drum of his daily routine restored.

The steady buzz of flies in Kuj-vi’s ears caused him to perk up. He sauntered back around his house and headed toward the grand entrance to the cattle pens. He sat one of the buckets on the ground and fished around in his belt pouch for the key to the padlock. After a minute noisy jangling, he removed the right one, inserted it into the lock and twisted it until he heard the distinctive click. Replacing the key, he picked up the bucket and flung open the gate with a kick. Kuj-vi took two steps before he nearly ran into a pair of hooves jutting straight up in the air, stopping at just about eye-level.

“Daaag-nabbit! Those gosh-darn teenagers done been drinking an’ gone cow-tippin’ again!” Kuj-vi spat in the dust, simmering with frustration.

“I keep tellin’ their folks to git them chil-run away from the liquor pantry, but nooooo, they’s never listenin’ to ol’ Kuj-vi,” he yammered on to no one in particular. Dropping both buckets with a sigh, he crouched down next to the cow’s head and gently slapped the prominent jaw. “Come on Betsy, git ‘er up now.”

But the beast didn’t budge. Kuj-vi raised his eyebrows and bent closer to look at the cow’s eye, which had rolled backward, leaving just the white exposed.

“Come on now, this ain’t time for games, girl,” he nudged the snout with his palm. The fat tongue, normally a bright pink, lolled outside of its mouth, revealing a speckled purple color. “Uh, oh.” Kuj-vi sprang to his feet and ran further into the cattle pen to check on the rest of the livestock. He quickly stopped short and let a curse escape his mouth.

“Well fry mah hide…”

The bewildered rancher slowly walked around in a circle, surveying the carnage that surrounded him. Everywhere he looked, cattle lie flat on their backs with all four legs pointing ram-rod straight at the sky like they were angrily gesturing with their hooves at some unseen enemy. Kuj-vi whistled mournfully.

“Ramses gonna keeeeell me.”

~~~

“Why, Qeela, is that a pimple on your nose?” Tut-hak-bur pointed at his co-anchor’s face.

“You’re joking right? I just had my makeup done in wardrobe,” Qeela reached for her purse, sat it in front of her and pulled out a compact mirror.

“And it’s a big one, too!” Tut-hak-bur chortled.

Qeela sighed, flipped open the mirror and stared at the large red bump standing in stark contrast to her uniformly colored skin. “By Aton’s shining beard! I’m going to have Kim-zad’s head on a pike for this!” Seething with rage, she stood up, removed her earpiece and stomped off stage.

“We-ell…” Tut-hak-bur nervously pursed his lips and tried to muster up a witty ad-lib. “If any of our viewers out there have experience as a professional makeup artist, please send your resumes to ENN Studios, P.O. Box-” Qeela’s startled cry stopped Tut-hak-bur mid-sentence.

“Get away from me! You did this to me!”

“I, uh… Qeela?” Tut-hak-bur leaned back in his chair and glanced to his left.

“No! No-no-no-no!” Qeela continued shrieking. “This can’t be happening! Not my beautiful face!”

Tut-hak-bur rested his elbow on the desk. “Really, Qeela. I think you’re giving a bad name to Egyptian women everywhere, it’s only a little pimple for Pharaoh’s sake!”

“No, don’t touch me! You’re getting them all over me!”

“…them?” Tut-hak-bur’s eyebrows formed a frown on his forehead. Behind the camera, the producer released a pent in sigh of frustration and signaled for an intern to go find out what the fuss was about. The young woman eagerly snapped to attention and darted off to the dressing rooms.

A moment later, Qeela’s voice could be heard angrily arguing with the intern. “I am not going back out there like this. No! Over my dead body!”

“Tell her if she wants to keep her job, she better get back on camera,” the producer announced through his handheld amplification cone. The intern reappeared, dragging a furiously struggling Qeela by the wrist.

“Don’t look at me! I’m hideous!” She declared, shielding her face with hands and forearms covered in small red welts.

“What happened to you?” Tuk-hak-bur was taken aback at his co-host’s sudden dermatological dilemma. A sharp, panicked yelp sounded from nearby, and the camera swung over into a different part of the studio. The intern’s exposed skin was also now covered in red bumps. The camera quickly jerked back to the news desk, where Qeela cowered behind her chair and Tut-hak-bur had a quizzical look on his face.

“Um, do you think this might be contagious?” He tapped the desk with a pencil as he asked the producer. Qeela irritably punched his shoulder. “Ow! Now, Qeela, was that really necessary?” Tut-hak-bur paused poignantly. “Wait, why does my arm feel all tingly?” He held his hand up in front of him, and little red pustules appeared on his wrist followed by more on his fingers. “This can’t be good.” The cameraman zoomed in on his face, as the red welts travelled up from his shirt collar and spread across his face, each making a little poink sound as it emerged. The crew stared in disbelief.

“This some kinda crazy prank or something?” Uk-yip the cameraman’s deep voice inquired.

The producer hesitated for a moment, looking around nervously. “I want this set in lockdown! Get me out of here before I get it, too!” He shouted, leaping from his folding chair and bounding out the studio exit.

“I have to admit, these things kind of hurt,” Tut-hak-bur remarked after poking one of the red, inflamed bulges on his cheek.

“Just cut to commercial already!” Qeela screamed from her hiding place.

Exodus: A Pesach Story - Part 1

It happened right in the middle of Poq-tin’s “Pharoah's Choice” beverage segment. Viewers still remembered the look of shock on the royal cup-bearer’s face when the alcoholic mixture sitting on the counter in front of him, which had called for white wine as one of its main ingredients, frothed into a deep crimson.

“I didn’t know we were making sangria today!” Exclaimed Tut-hak-bur, turning to his co-anchor, Qeela.

“I do love surprises,” she replied. “Let’s hope Poq-tin will save some for the break room after the broadcast!” She winked and flashed a cheesy grin.

Both newscasters recoiled in horror in their split-screen projection when Poq-tin sampled a bit of his concoction, grimaced, and spat the mouthful all over the studio kitchen. The spray even reached the cameraman, leaving little red droplets clinging to the lens.

“Somone shoulda told me we was doin’ a water-take,” Uk-yip the cameraman’s voice complained. “I’da brought the special protective tarp!” A meaty hand grasping a hanky appeared and quickly wiped away the residue.

“What happened over there, Poq-tin?” Tut-hak-bur inquired with a practiced look of curiosity. The cup-bearer hacked into his elbow and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Somebody’s playing tricks on me! That tasted like blood!” Tut-hak-bur and Qeela froze and exchanged a look of concern. Qeela made a quick cutting motion across her neck with her hand.

“Well, that’s all for tonight folks! Tune in next time for a special report on the recent manual labor union strike!” Tut-hak-bur improvised, ignoring the rest of his cue cards. The director gave them a thumbs-up gesture to let them know the feed had been cut, and both anchors heaved a sigh of relief.

~~~

The shenanigans began a month ago when the former crown prince returned after a mysterious several-decades-long absence from the palace. Rumors had been floating around since his departure that there had been some sort of scuffle which ended up with Pharoah’s favorite adopted grandson charged with committing manslaughter and fleeing from court-imposed justice. The tabloids had a field day, but as the years went by, the story became stale and everyone seemed to forget about Moses, “the child born from the Nile.” Everyone except the Hebrews, that is.

Some sort of underground cult formed among the slaves with Moses’ older brother Aaron as its high priest. The beliefs of the new sect centered around the veneration of Moses as a kind of messianic figure who would triumphantly lead the Hebrews from their centuries-long bondage to a far-off “promised land” flowing with “milk and honey.” The absurdity of some land that had rivers of liquids produced by animals, let alone the notion of anyone ever leading an entire slave caste out of the mightiest empire in the world kept the members of Pharaoh’s government laughing non-stop. The variety shows parodied the fanatical group every other week, and the public turned a blind eye to the upstarts while tuning in to the wildly popular mockery.

However, Moses unexpectedly returned carrying an impressively large stick, and marched with his brother Aaron in tow straight to the throne room of now-Pharaoh Ramses the Second, his former step-brother. Ramses almost fell off his royal dais when his estranged adopted relative claimed to be the leader of the Hebrews and demanded their release in the name of some deity he had never heard of. Of course, Ramses “The Great” refused to bow to the wishes of some self-appointed lunatic, no matter who he claimed to be.

Then things got interesting.

The newspapers reported that Moses made his hand go white with leprosy and his brother Aaron turned that imposing staff into a serpent. Ramses applauded the parlor tricks and called forth his magicians, who also “magically” turned their staffs into snakes, using the patented trick-release mechanism that emptied the concealed reptiles from their false wooden containers. Apparently bested, Moses changed his hand back to normal. However, Aaron grabbed his serpent by the tail, transformed it back into a staff, then rapped it against Pharaoh’s throne three times to prove the authenticity of his magic. As the court magicians scrambled to retrieve their pet snakes and return them to their special cases, Aaron pitched his inanimate staff to the ground, where it proceeded to swallow the fleeing creatures whole.

Insider sources claimed that Ramses tugged the edge of his collar and pressed a purple silken scarf across his forehead to remove the nervous perspiration that had collected there. Before he could retort, Moses issued an indignant ultimatum and stormed off with his brother and special staff. The bewildered court advisors didn’t have a clue what to make of these developments, and simply doubled the palace guard in case any political radical decided to make an assassination attempt.

The week of blood changed everything. Suddenly the entire Empire was on-edge about a possible slave rebellion, though Ramses and his PR people managed to calm the hoi polloi with an ad campaign that denounced Moses’ credibility by publicizing his criminal background. Ramses himself made a televised speech that asked his nation to remain at ease, stating that he and his administration were doing their best to settle the matter peaceably. However, relief efforts proved futile when all the water brought in by the Egyptian emergency-response task forces also turned to blood. Pharaoh’s viceroy successfully negotiated a business arrangement with the Hebrews in Goshen to buy their excess water supply (which for some reason had not transformed into blood) in a deal that provided great monetary benefit to the Hebrews.

~~~

“A breaking news story is taking place this very moment at the north-eastern section of the Nile Delta. We now go live to roving reporter Geg-kon-fil, who is on the ground at the scene of the ongoing incident. Fil, can you hear me?” Qeela tapped her earpiece impatiently.

“Oh, yeah! Qeela, you guys back in the studio are never going to believe this one!” The man’s voice answered while the fuzzy footage began to take shape. When the camera finally focused, Geg-kon-fil’s clean-shaven, mascaraed face filled the frame. He adjusted the reporter’s headband attached to his horse-hair wig. A loud whump…whump… could be heard behind him, along with the shouts and commands of several men.

“Just what is going on down there?” Tut-hak-bur made a serious face for the viewers at home. Geg-kon-fil motioned for the cameraman to pan outward. Three armed soldiers ran by, brandishing spears. Another whump sounded, and the camera shook slightly. Screams were heard and the same soldiers ran the other way, hurling the broken remnants of their weapons behind them. A long, pink, rope-like appendage shot out and stuck to the back of the slowest warrior with a wet thwap. He yelped as he was lifted bodily off the ground and reeled backward across the screen, his arms and legs flapping in the air. His cries concluded with a loud off-camera gulp.

Easing into a position where the camera could film him, Geg-kon-fil announced, “Eyewitness reports are still unclear regarding the exact origin of the disturbance.” His voice warbled with fear, “It seems a large amphibious creature rose from the recently recovered Nile and began terrorizing the citizens.” The view shifted to the right, zooming in on some immense thing. Its moist green skin reflected the afternoon sunlight.

“BRAAAAAAAAA-BUP!” A deep grumble seemed to announce itself. A chorus of chirping briiiibips answered in unison. The green thing vanished from view, followed by another off-camera whump that made the image wobble. The picture abruptly jerked upward and focused on a large yellow eye. The optical orb blinked slowly then swiveled to peer down at the camera.

“Uh, boss, I think it sees us,” the cameraman remarked anxiously. Geg-kon-fil reappeared briefly, jogging backward while shaking his head and pointing wildly at the creature. The camera operator took the cue and the image shook violently as he whirled around and raced after the reporter.

“Early analysis by government herpetologists theorize that the gargantuan frog is a freak genetic mutation from somewhere deep in the African continent that somehow managed to swim up the Nile,” Geg-kon-fil shouted into his wireless microphone. After a few moments, both men stopped to catch their breath, having hopefully placed a safe distance between them and the rampaging amphibian. “The recent spike in acidity of the river’s waters must have then provoked the creature to emerge from its habitat and invade the Nile Delta.”

A series of rapid twittering intonations interrupted Geg-kon-fil’s next statement, and the camera swung back around toward the monster. It stood at least 15 feet tall, and was probably twice that length from snout to the toes of its fully extended jumping legs each time it leaped through the air. A swarm of miniature frogs, the source of the irritating high-pitched croaking, clustered around its feet, bouncing to and fro.

Geg-kon-fil cleared his throat and stepped back into frame. “It would appear that this particular frog has a unique ability,” he began. As if on cue, another pair of soldiers wielding spears raced toward the creature, stabbing at it while grasping the ends of their weapons. One blade managed to connect with the creature’s rubbery hide, but harmlessy skittered off the slimy surface. The giant amphibian blinked, which submerged both its eyes into their sockets. A moment later, it heaved its body forward and retched a cloud of mini-frogs. The diminutive offspring, clones of their gigantic parent, scrambled free of the vocal-sack mucus and began to cheep vociferously. The decibel level of the absorbing, hair-raising sound rose several degrees.

Geg-kon-fil pressed his free hand to the side of his head in an attempt to block out the noise. “As I was saying, the creature has an exceptional ability to reproduce, almost on command,” he ground his teeth together as the fierce croaking shifted into a higher pitch and more newborn frogs joined their bevy of siblings. “It’s a catch twenty-two, Qeela and Tut. Any time the defense forces strike the creature, it not only sustains little to no visible damage, but also produces another batch of its young, adding to the chaos.”

“Wow, that’s mighty impressive, isn’t it Qeela?” Tut-hak-bur exhibited his pearly whites and nudged his co-anchor with an elbow.

“All I can say, Tut, is that I’m glad we’re safely in the broadcast booth and not hopping around with all those slimy critters!” Both newscasters broke out into a hearty chuckle.

“Don’t count yourselves out of danger just yet,” Geg-kon-fil gesticulated past the camera. “The little ones are beginning to spread throughout the countryside…” Trailing off, he squinted and gazed into the distance. “…and they’re moving pretty darn fast. I wouldn’t be surprised if you started seeing some in the next half hour-” the giant frog vomited yet another load of its minute children onto the sand, “-or less.” The remote video ended, and the two newscasters once again filled the entirety of the screen.

“Well… I, uh…” Tut-hak-bur grasped for words while his brain failed to produce a response. Qeela shakily raised her coffee mug to her mouth, pursed her lips and froze mid-sip. A little green frog surfaced from within the mug and gingerly reached upward to plant a wet kiss on her extended lips. She shrieked in horror and flung the ceramic cup across the studio where it shattered into pieces on a nearby wall. The plucky amphibian leaped free just in time, landed on a pile of papers, and splattered lukewarm coffee in an arc across the desk. Qeela threw her hands in the air and fled off stage, screaming at the top of her lungs.

“What’s the matter? It’s just one little frog,” Tut-hak-bur leaned over and examined the green interloper. The frog waddled around to face the camera and chirped an almost musical sequence of croaks with varying pitches. Tut-hak-bur raised an eyebrow. A second frog fell from the rafters onto his expertly groomed wig, while a third landed on his shoulder. Two more hopped into view from both sides of the table and met in the middle with the original intruder. Another handful suddenly reached up from behind his seat and clambered onto the desktop. With Qeela still screeching from somewhere backstage and the cacophony of croaking growing louder and louder, Tut-hak-bur gave the “kill-feed” signal, and millions of TVs across the Egyptian Empire simultaneously went blank.

Overheard During Last-Minute Pesach-Prep Frenzy

Exclaimed by my slightly exasperated mother, shouted from the kitchen while we were busy setting the tables for our Seder in an adjacent room:

"One of y'all better be married by next Pesach!"

To which a younger sibling (also of potentially marriageable age) replied loudly:

"Amein!"

Kein Yehi Ratzon...

Have A Chag Kasher V'Sameach!

If anyone has yet to hear Chief Rabbi Lord Jonathan Sacks' shiur titled "A Seder Night That Changed History" - and still has time to invest in listening to shiurim today - don't pass up the chance! It puts a whole new perspective on the story from the haggadah about the chachomim staying up all night in Bnei Brak.

I hope everyone has a Chag Kasher V'Seameach (and/or Gut Yontif) and enjoys the time spent with family in friends during the sedarim (or seder for those residing in Israel).