The modern Joshua, specially formulated for complainers of all stripes

Some people have suggested that they're bored of Joshua. Others are clamoring for more? What should I do? Perhaps I should write about current events in Joshua's inimitable style. That would surely be fun for all. It's a little shorter than what you're used to, but I'm sure you'll get over it. Here goes:

"Hey Joshua, how goes the battle?"
"Well, it's pretty tough down here in New Orleans. We're about to get washed away, and people can say is 'Poor GOP.' Can't a city get any sympathy?"
"Well, perhaps if they had a better sense of timing, none of this would be necessary."
"How are we supposed to regulate the big guy up in the sky?"
"Maybe if you stopped some of those hedonist practices you have."
"You mean Mardi Gras?"
"Precisely."
"But we enjoy those so much!"
"All sin is enjoyable."
"You mean the great blue dodger up in the stratosphere wants us to be serious and depressed all the time?"
"But of course."
"That's ridiculous."
"Hey, don't shoot the messenger."
"If the messenger perverts the message beyond all intelligible meaning, then I think it's perfectly acceptable to pervert the messenger too."
"Those are rather shocking words."
"No more shocking than someone claiming that their grandson is actually their son."
"Canard!"
"English you may have, but are the facts on your side?"
"Certainly. Her word to me is like gold on a popsicle stick."
"First of all, she's yet to respond to these allegations, and second of all, where does one get gold on a popsicle stick? I'm fascinated!"
"I believe they're available for a small fee in the misused-analogy section of the incomprehensible-statement tent at the Minnesota State Fair."
"I would love to get one, but as you know, I'm stuck here in New Orleans trying to figure out how many HDTV's I can loot before the cops come."
"Joshua, I'm shocked! I thought you had morals!"
"I used to, but when I read that a woman would lie to protect her family I figured that I'd exchange mine for a nice new TV. It's a good exchange, no?"
"Just because you can doesn't mean that you should. I mean, if everyone did that, where would be then?"
"Where are we then?"
"You know, you just reused an old Peanuts joke. Can't you come up with something original once in a while?"
"Why should I bother? All the world's great literature is spread before me-should I fail to capitalize and make it my own?"
"It doesn't become yours just because you take it. That would be like saying that a TV becomes yours just because you take it."
"Of course it's mine. Property is theft, therefore theft is property, therefore it's mine."
"You just stole another line!"
"And what are you going to do about it? Complain like you people did about Barack Obama's historic popularity?"
"Historic popularity? The man's just a one-trick pony in the biggest freak show the world has ever seen-the Democratic party!"
"There you go again, insulting people who have the ability to change the space-time continuum, not to mention the paradigm, and all you can do is come up with admittedly good but nevertheless quite evil lines."
"What do you think the political arena is all about? If you're not prepared to fight like a devil, why are you entering the gladiators pit?"
"Yes, you're prepared to attack, but whenever we try and attack you back, you say that it's not fair."
"When did we do that?"
"Look, we attack Mccain, and you say he's a sacred POW, so we can't touch him. We attack Palin, and oh, she's a mother of a DS child, she's protected. Then we call you on the biggest lie in Alaska politics, at least since Ted Steven's last press conference, and you say that our attacks are disgusting. When you do it to us of course, then it's all right. You want to have it all your way. Well, let me tell you something, this Joshua isn't going to take that kind of abuse sitting down. Onward Episcopalian soldiers!"
"Joshua, when did you become such a big liberal? You used to be a solid conservative."
"Who said I'm a big liberal? I just don't like it when New Orleans is being abused by shrubs and their ilk, so I got into a bit of an ornery mood."
"So you really like the Grand Old Party?"
"Depends on how good the party is. After all, I am in New Orleans, and if the party is good, then it's all good."
"Maybe if New Orleans wasn't being such a pain than we could have a good party!"
"Oh, don't get me started one that again..."

Sevens are very special indeed

“Good morning Joshua.”
“How are you Mizz Gomez?”
“I’m doing just frabjously, Joshua.”
“Good, good.”
“I was just wondering, when does that order for the English poetry books come in?”
“Um, I really don’t know Mizz Gomez. I have one of the poems here though, if you’d like me to read it to you.”
“I would love that Joshua, you read poetry so beautifully.”
“Aw shucks Mizz Gomez, that is just too kind of you. Anyway, here goes. giggles

The mission to Mars came to an end,
The astronauts finally came around the bend,
As Earth, their sire came into sight,
They, the astronauts, ceased to fight,
All bickering, all pretenses fell away,
As they beheld their home bay,"

“Joshua?”
“What?”
“Well, I think there might be a problem with this poetry.”
“You don’t like it Mizz Gomez?”
“You see Joshua, I don’t think that it’s very English.”
“The English are snobs.”
“While that may be true Joshua, we don’t want to say it out loud. Besides, it has nothing to do with the fact that this poetry, while very moving, has nothing to do with London.”
“Of course not, Mizz Gomez, England isn’t all London. There’s also, um; you know, I failed geography. But England is a big country, I’m sure that there are lots of places in it. You’re like New Yorkers who think that they are the United States, and if you press them might acknowledge that Los Angeles is a small town in the suburbs.”
“I’m sure that I agree with you Joshua, but the fact remains that this poetry sounds like some sort of sixties NASA propaganda.”
“And who do you think wrote sixties NASA propaganda designed to make President Johnson think that it was a good idea to keep up funding for itself?”
“Well you obviously want to tell me, don’t you Joshua.” sneers
“Of course I do. The only people who could possibly write such pretentious twaddle are the English! ”
“Beautiful inflection there Joshua, but I’m not buying it. That kind of stuff is obviously Swiss.”
“Huh? Why Swiss? All they’ve ever accomplished is to make watches and chocolate. No that there’s anything wrong with watches and chocolate, but still, it’s only watches and chocolate.”
“Do you enjoy saying ‘watches and chocolate’ Joshua?”
“Well Mizz Gomez, as it happens I do. And don’t you be so evil about it.”
“You know Joshua, when my widowed sister introduced me to you she said that you were a mild-mannered youth who was a few French fries short of a Happy Meal.”
“They don’t make those anymore, Mizz Gomez.”
“Make what?”
“Oh, they do, but now the big thing is healthy food.”
“What are you talking about Joshua?”
“Happy Meals.”
“Who mentioned Happy Meals?”
“You did.”
“I did?”
“You know, when I mention you to my younger brother, I’ll make sure that he knows that you’re a mild mannered lady whose village is missing their idiot.”
“What’s with the insults from 1999, Joshua?”
“Well, you started it.”
“No, you did.”
“Oh yeah? Read the transcript.”
“This hasn’t been recorded, Joshua.”
“Oh yes? So what is is that the readers are currently perusing?”
“It’s merely a figment of their own imagination.”
“You’re telling me that they dreamed up this whole thing? How likely is that?”

Editor’s Note: At this juncture Mizz Gomez’s Pastor pulls up in his pink 1955 Cadillac and asks to speak privately to Joshua. What follows is an accurate rendition of their conversation:

“Joshua, I’m sorry to have to call you away here, but I just thought you might like to know that I absolutely disapprove of this conversation you’re currently subjecting Mizz Gomez too. As you know, she’s quite ill, and this kind of heartless banter is taking its toll on her nervous system.”
“So what exactly do you want me to do?”
“I want you to apologize right now, and promise to never do it again.”
“Fine.”

Joshua walks back to Mizz Gomez, and watched by the Pastor, he says what he must.

“I’m sorry for insulting you, Mizz Gomez.”
“There’s nothing you can do about it now, Joshua”
“But we are taught that hope springs eternal for all mankind! How can you say that I’m forever lost?”
“Such is life, though mine is surely nearing its end. You have fatally wounded me! The end is nigh!”

Minor note here, readers. The following is taking place at Mizz Gomez’s funeral. Well, I had to end it somewhere, and this seemed as good a place as any to do it. After all, there is nothing more final then death, now is there? Well, except being transferred by your company to Manchester, but we won’t go there.

“Why not father?”
“Well, that’s just the way your religion works, my son.”
“Can I convert to another?”
“You think I’ll allow you to? Are you crazy? Obviously the death has affected you greatly. Here, have a little Scotch. That’ll warm you up. I know how cold it gets in the Sahara forest.”
“Thanks for the drink, Padre. I assume that you had some before the funeral today.”
“Of course.”
“I can tell.”
“How?”
“Well, the fact that you’re spouting nonsense is a pretty good indication.”
“Thanks Joshua, I really appreciate your kind words.”
“Padre, mind if I read a poem here? I wrote it specially for Mizz Gomez.”
“Sure Joshua, but if you don’t mind I’ll have a little more of the drink that refreshes. It’s good with the drink that quenches your thirst.”
“Here goes:

Here lies a woman
Not a great wonder
A charm
No alarm
Sweetness
Kindness
The Zs of her name
Encompassed so much
I feel great sadness
Treachery
No more life
What have I done
I feel all
Alone
What shall I do
I know not
The rhythmic patterns
Her footstep
Mizz Gomez
I have killed you
Sorry”

“Uh, great poem Joshua. Great symbolism and all that. The metaphysical imagery was really particularly effective. The rhythmic devices were really tremendous too. And the counterpoint of the surrealism of the underlying metaphor of the humanity of the poets soul which contrived through the medium of the verse structure to sublimate this, transcend that, and come to terms with the fundamental dichotomies of the other, and one is left with the profound insight of Mizz Gomez’s life. Really just top-stuff that. I absolutely loved it.”
“Padre, you can get put into prison for that kind of thing you know.”
“Why?”
“Well, for one thing, its plagiarism. For another, it’s absolutely true. The current administration doesn’t like it when people speak the truth.”

Guess what folks? Another editors note! At many times in the narrative of the knave Joshua’s life I have felt annoyed with him, but this really is just too much. I can’t believe he would say something like that. It’s just too monstrous. I’ll keep him alive though; after all, he’s going to sell himself with talk like that, won’t he?

“You shouldn’t insult the current administration, Joshua.”
“Why not Padre?”
“Well, for one thing, it’s not a very nice thing to do.”
“All right father, I’ll listen to you. Anyway, I’m glad you enjoyed the poetry.”
“Who knows Joshua, perhaps there will be a miracle and Mizz Gomez will be resurrected!”
“I thought your sect didn’t believe in that, Padre?”
“Who knows what I believe? All that counts is that it could happen.”

Last one, I promise. On Mizz Gomez’s resurrection: It isn’t bloody likely. Especially not under my watch. After all, it’s now of Swiss provenance.

Joshua's Dozen

“Hi Joshua.”
“I have a question.”
“Yes?”
“How come it seems like most of my conversations start off with ‘Hi Joshua.’ It’s so boring.”
“How else should a conversation start off?”
“Well, perhaps we could begin with a loud and boisterous rendition of ‘Howdy!’ That would work.”
“When was the last time anyone started off a conversation like that?”
“True.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“But you are right, it does seem like you’re in a bit of a rut.”
“How do you propose I should deal with this?”
“Eat some chicken?”
“That’s a terrible idea.”
“Well, you asked for it.”
“Just for that, I’m going home.”
“Bye.”
“Bye.”

Joshua goes home.

“Hello Chandler.”
“Hello sir.”
“What’s for breakfast Chandler?”
“Chicken, sir.”
“Chicken? That’s a terrible breakfast.”
“You inquired as to the menu, sir, and I answered your query.”
“Don’t get fresh with me, Chandler.”
“No, sir.”
“Just for that I think I’ll find a convenient restaurant to eat my breakfast in.”
“Very good, sir.”
“Bye.”
“Good bye, sir.”

Joshua goes to a restaurant.

“What’s today’s breakfast special?”
“There is no breakfast special.”
“But it’s advertised on the window.”
“So you know what it is.”
“No, I don’t.”
“Prove it.”
“How can I prove I don’t know something?”
“Didn’t you have this conversation once before?”
“You’re right, I do seem to be in a bit of a rut.”
“So what do you want for breakfast?”
“What is available?”
“Chicken served hot, chicken served cold, chicken served in the pot,”
“Nine days old.”
“Seven.”
“Seven what?”
“Days.”
“The chicken’s been in a pot for seven days?”
“Correct.”
“That’s discusting.”
“It’s no more discusting than chicken being in the pot for nine days.”
“Good point there.”
“But you were willing to eat the nine day old chicken.”
“Says who?”
“Says me.”
“You know what? I’ve had enough chicken for one day.”
“You have?”
“Well, not actually.”
“What’s that supposed to mean.”
“I mean its been offered to me in one way or another three times today.”
“Odd.”
“And it isn’t even four AM!”
“Tragic.”
“Will you marry me?”
“No.”
“Okay then, bye.”
“Au Revoir.”

Joshua walks back to his house.

“Chandler?”
“Yes, sir?”
“Who named you that?”
“My mother, sir.”
“And why did your mother name you that?”
“Probably because she wanted to.”
“Haven’t I warned you about not getting fresh?”
“Yes, sir.”
“In fact, if I recall correctly, that was a major reason for my engaging you, Chandler.”
“Come again, sir?”
“Well, the advertisement I put in Butler’s Monthly
specifically requested a ‘Jeeves-like’ butler.”
“Sir?”
“Yes?”
“Every advertisement put in Butler’s Monthly
specifically requests a ‘Jeeves-like’ butler.”
“And therefore?”
“And therefore, sir, not all aspects of Jeeves’ character are necessarily replicated in all butlers.”
“I see.”
“In fact, sir, if I may be so bold, I would venture to say that Butler’s Monthly
would better serve its audience if it was called Jeeves’ Monthly.
”
“So what you’re saying is that I’ve been gyped.”
“Precisely, sir. However, I don’t know if I’d use that term if I was you.”
“And why not?”
“Well, sir, it isn’t exactly PC.”
“PC?”
“Politically Correct, sir.”
“So how about ripped off.”
“Much better, sir.”
“Regardless of the term used, Chandler, the fact remains that I’ve been swindled.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Is Butler’s Monthly useful to butlers?”
“Only as a sort of classified, sir.”
“But I see you get it every month.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Are you not happy with your present engagement?”
“Yes, sir, I am very happy.”
“Good. Fix me some victuals.”
“Very good, sir; what will you have?”
“Nothing to do with chicken.”
“How about some bacon and eggs?”
“That’s rather fattening, Chandler.”
“Not if you’re on a low-carbohydrate diet, sir.”
“Does it look like I need to go on a low-carbohydrate diet, Chandler?”
“No, sir.”
“Well then, fix me up some bacon and eggs.”
“Very good, sir.”
“You said that already.”
“Well, sir, all butlers are programmed with four or five phrases that are constantly used by those of us in this position.”
“Was that supposed to be funny, Chandler?”
“I believe the correct term is caustic, sir.”
“Well, Chandler, not only was it not funny, but I think that if you don’t go and make that bacon and eggs right now I will have to throw all caution to the winds and be a little caustic with you myself!”

The bacon and eggs are made. Joshua eats them.

“I’d like a dozen bagels, Chandler.”
“Why, sir?”
“Ours not to reason why, ours just to do and die.”
“That’s very profound, sir.”
“Thanks. So where’s the bagels?”
“What bagels?”
“What bagels!? The bagels I just asked for!”
“It isn’t necessary to scream, sir.”
“You’re fired.”
“Very good, sir.”
“Oh, one more thing before you go, Chandler.”
“Yes, sir?”
“Oh, I’ve forgotten already. No, I haven’t. Please bring me your latest Butler’s Monthly.”
“Very good, sir.”

Joshua 15-Is It More?

“What is evil, Joshua?”
“Well, that depends. What is good?”
“I asked the question first, so I get an answer first.”
“All right. Evil is the absence of good.”
“And good is the absence of evil.”
“That leaves a gray zone, doesn’t it?”
“Sure does. What do you think that zone is?”
“Humanity.”
“Wow, that’s deep.”
“You know, I’m trying to be profound here, why do you have to ruin it?”
“Because I’m a cynical jerk.”
“Truer words have never been spoken.”
Later...
“You know Joshua, I think you were right.”
“About what?”
“About that whole humanity thing, you know, being a mixture of good and evil.”
“What’s your opinion?”
“Well, the way I’m seeing it, everything balances out; there are good people and there are bad people, and if you put everyone together, they’re really just purely gray.”
“That’s very nice.”
“Thanks.”
“On which side of the scale do you think you are?”
“Oh, I’m on the bad side.”
“Why?”
“You said it yourself. I’m a cynical jerk.”
“My uncle once told me something very interesting. He said that the most cynical people were also the most gullible.”
“Father’s or mother’s side?”
“Neither.”
“So how exactly was he your uncle?”
“He wasn’t, we just called him that.”
“Does he actually exist?”
“Well now all that remains of him is some ashes.”
‘Oh, I’m sorry, when did he die?”
“Who said he died?”
“Um, well you did just say that all that was left of him was ashes.”
“Yes.”
“So how exactly is he not dead?”
“Who says he ever lived?”
“That’s very deep, but it really doesn’t explain much.”
“Neither do you.”
‘You know what? I’m going to punch you unless you start making sense.”
“You know that you used the word ‘you’ three times in that sentence?”
Pow. Later...
“Wow! What was that?”
“It was the sound of a skull cracking, sir.”
“Chandler! You’re back!”
“Yes, sir.”
“I thought I fired you?”
“You did, sir.”
“So what are you doing here?”
“I got a job as a nurse.”
“Ah. So I’m in hospital.”
“Brilliant deduction, Einstein.”
“Actually, I believe that was an induction.”
“How should you know? You just got slammed.”
“True. True.”
“Of course it’s true, would a butler ever tell an untruth?”
“No comment.”
“A very wise policy, if I might add.”
“What’s got into you lately?”
“Well sir, I figured that if you were going to fire me then I should respond in a suitable manner.”
“Is being rude a suitable manner?”
“Of course, sir.”
“I’ll get back to you on that. Meanwhile, please get my lawyer.”
“Yes, sir.”
Slightly later...
“Ahh, Joshua, my favorite friend, my best buddy, my crackingly cricked up companion, my absolutely top-hole client, who do you want me to sue for you today?”
“The man who did this to me.”
“Pardon? The man who made your bed?”
“Exactly. He’s a dangerous fiend and should be sent down to Fishkill immediately.”
“Isn’t that a womens’ facility?”
“No reason he shouldn’t enjoy himself as much as possible while he’s incarcerated.”
“Well, there is a slight problem, you see, I think that it might be hard to persuade the State Attorney to press charges against a man who was merely doing his job.”
“Exactly! Himmler was also just doing his job!”
“Good point Joshua. Should I also press criminal charges against the dude who busted your chops?”
“Uh, eh?”
“Oh, I mean the guy who slammed your skull.”
“If it’ll make you happy.”
“Oh, don’t worry, it’ll definitely make me happy.”
“Well, I’m glad to provide some happiness in someone’s life. Mine is sadly lacking in that department now.”
“You’re content, though.”
“If you put it like that, yes.”
“See, I knew we could come to an impasse.”
“Solution?”
“Exactly.”
“Perfect.”
“So let’s just review my instructions, shall we?”
“Does it look like I have any more appointments?”
“Right. So we’re suing the maid for making your bed, the dude for cracking your skull, and the butler for being a jerk.”
“Why the butler?”
“Well, three is my lucky number.”
“Okay then, go right ahead.”
“See you later.”
Later...
“Hey, Joshua, I’ve got the results right here!”
“What are they lawyer?”
“The maid was let off because he was just doing his job;”
“I’ll appeal!”
“We lost that one too.”
“Dang. Well, go on.
“You’re assaulter got off.”
“Why?”
“Well, it appears that you were having a theological discussion, and US law is very particular on that one.”
“Huh?”
“Well, it appears that when a person enters into a theological discussion they cede all of their rights.”
“That’s a terrible law.”
“Which is why I appealed it.”
“And what did the appeals court say?”
“They laughed so hard their dentures fell into their water glasses.”
“I thought that you’re supposed to have respect in the courtroom.”
“Well, they had justice done to them, as the water was poisoned.”
“So they died?”
“No, but the defendant in the case asked for a cup of water and he died.”
“So all’s well that ends well?”
“No, you’re being charged with manslaughter.”
“Me? Why? I’ve been in this hospital room for six weeks.”
“Exactly. They figured that anyone who could afford to stay in a hospital for six weeks could afford an expensive defense attorney who could get them off.”
“Well they’re right there.”
“And moving onto the final case, I’m sorry to say that you lost.”
“Strike three, huh?”
“Yes. Well, I’ll be going now, call if anything happens.”
“I’ll do.”

British Invasion

This one was originally entitled "Moi?" Please, enjoy.

“I hate pretentiousness, Joshua.”
“So does everyone and their grandmother.”
“No, actually my grandmother enjoys it.”
“I was generalizing.”
“That is itself pretentious.”
“So, in order to answer a pompous ass one has to assume its characteristics.”
“That was a very neat phrase.”
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Getting back to your original comment though, there’s absolutely nothing you can do about it.”
“That’s encouraging.”
“Every writer, no matter how down to earth, is pretentious. Heck, Monty Python was pretentious.”
“No, not Monty Python!”
“What, you married to them or something?”
“You don’t have to be sarcastic as well.”
“I’ll keep it in mind.”
“So what do you mean when you say that Cleese and company are pretentious? I mean they exemplify anti-establishment.”
“No, they are the establishment. Perhaps when they first started they thumbed their collective noses at the corporation, but look who was paying them.”
“That’s just the nature of the beast. You have to work from inside to bring it down.”
“Yes. But when you do that it falls down on top of you. Not so much a Trojan Horse as a Samson.”
“That’s all very nice metaphysically, but the fact is that Monty was the counterculture.”
“Just because people are fighting something doesn’t mean that they’re not conforming to another.”
“You know, people have been having this conversation since the dawn of civilization.”
“Which means that this conversation is just as pretentious as a newly-minted OBE.”
“So then let’s stop having it.”
“That’s one option. Another is to acknowledge the essential pretensions of life and deal with them.”
“Who wants to deal?”
“A dealer.”
“Oh, don’t be cute.”
“You know what you are? A modern-day J.D. Salinger.”
“Is that meant to be a compliment or what?”
“Sure. All I’m saying is that you both question life in incredibly annoying ways.”
“Like how?”
“You ever read ‘Franny and Zooey’ or ‘Catcher in the Rye’?”
“Sure.”
“Both of them are about this whole rebellion against conformity, which is in itself a rebellion against pretentiousness.”
“So you’re saying that it’s impossible to not conform in some way.”
“Exactly. Even unique people aren’t unique.”
“How so?”
“Well, they are merely marching to a different drum beat. But it’s still some society’s drum beat, even if it’s not the one all around them are used to.”
“Can you stop talking in cliches?”
“I can try. Life is just so much easier when you can speak in the same way that everyone else has.”
“You know, I think that you’re being a cultural snob, dropping Python and Salinger.”
“The difference between me and you is that I have no pretensions to non-snobbery and no desire to effect originality.”
“So you’re just a well-adjusted middle-class American with two point four children?”
“In fact, I have no children, but otherwise, yes.”
“And you’re satisfied?”
“Yes, I am actually.”
“I suddenly have this massive urge to shoot you.”
“Oh, that’s perfectly natural. I’m being a smug cad, and you, as the disaffected young radical, have the desire to do something to rectify the situation.”
“Come again?”
“You speak in cliches too.”
“So?”
“Just pointing it out. There’s nothing like man’s essential hypocrisy.”
“I thought we were discussing my urge to kill you?”
“It’s all one and the same. You want to kill me because I have what you don’t.”
“That’s a terrible reason to want to kill someone!”
“Tell that Cain.”
“Well, he succeeded, didn’t he?”
“If you consider being cursed and then being killed by your great-great-great-grandon success then yes, he was definitely one of the few people in this world to ever have the satisfaction of a life well lived.”
“That’s not the point.”
“Then what is it?”
“He acted on his instincts, got what he needed, and then suffered the consequences.”
“And that’s a good thing?”
“It’s better then not suffering the consequences of your actions.”
“Rubbish! Who wants to suffer?”
“No one, obviously, but suffering is an experience that we can learn from.”
“So you’re saying that an eighty-year old should suffer for their actions.”
“Of course.”
“Why?”
“They have to learn that every deed has its reward.”
“Aren’t they a little old for that?”
“Nonsense. I’ve taught myself new tricks.”
“But your hardly a representative of the Geritol generation.”
“So? The point is the same.”
“How about an eight-month old person?”
“What about them?”
“Should they suffer the consequences for their actions?”
“No.”
“Why not? It’ll be a learning experience.”
“You’ll end up traumatizing them.”
“Isn’t that the point? To traumatize the criminal so that they don’t commit their crimes again?”
“I prefer to use the word teach.”
“The concepts the same though.”
“You have a point there.”
“Furthermore, you are saying that babies, the most impressionable of creatures, should not be punished, while the elderly, who are set in their ways, should be.”
“All right, punish the kids.”
“That’s what the British did for a thousand years. And all they got for their efforts were Kingsley Amis, Monty Python, and the Spice Girls.”
“All valuable contributions to humanity.”
“That’s a point that could be easily debated, but I hope that my point is clear.”
“What exactly is that point?”
“That punishment does not work.”
“That sounds very seventyish.”
“Does that tell you anything?”
“You’re a hippy?”
“Guess again.”
“Um, not punishing also doesn’t work?”
“That’s very true too. The fact is, no one has any idea what in the world is happening.”
“So how did we get to this point? I mean, look at the world around you; so full of good and kindness and Coca-Cola.”
“The very symbol of goodness I assume.”
“Quite.”
“What I’m trying to say here is that this world is more messed up than it has a right to be.”
“My teacher always told me that I have no rights, only privileges.”
“Who was that, your biology professor?”
“No, actually is what the man who taught me constitutional law.”
“Did you miss the second part of the course?”
“No, why?”
“Well both of you seem to have forgotten that one inalienable part of the constitution.”
“And what’s that?”
“The bill of rights.”
“Oh, yeah, those. Actually, I think my professor was talking about the university and how most of the kids thought they had a right to a degree.”
“If you pay thirty-thousand dollars for four years with the intention of getting a piece of paper shouldn’t you get it?”
“You can have as much paper as you want, just not with the word diploma on it.”
“So let’s say you don’t get a diploma, is that just a waste of money?”
“No, you learned a valuable life-lesson.”
“I’m not so sure about that.”
“What do you mean?”
“Think about it. All it’s going to teach you is to not spend your money.”
“Which is a valuable life-lesson.”
“That’s true.”
“So wrapping up everything that we’ve said, it’s impossible to not be pretentious, impossible to discipline, but possible to teach about money.”
“Very well said. However, I hate when people sum up stories like this.”
“Like what?”
“Well, I hate when stories are moralistic.”
“So you’re saying that you hate when stories are pretentious about the lessons they pretend to teach.”
“Exactly.”
“Even though we just said that it’s impossible to not be pretentious about something like that, or for that matter anything.”
“Got me there.”
“So how do you say we should end this story?”
“Let’s give the reader something to think about.”
“Like what, Joshua?”
“Maybe we should let them meditate on the ineffable mystery of the word of the great being named Bob?”
“They can do that, sure.”

More lad

Warning: I haven't seen the following story since I wrote it five years ago, and I can't be bothered to read it now either. Still, it should be quite the adventure.

“Good morning Joshua.”
“Hi Mrs. Thench.”
“Are you doing anything constructive today Joshua?”
“Oh, definitely no, Mrs. Thench.”
“Please, call me Tulip.”
“Whatever floats your boat, Tulip.”
“So anyway Joshua, why are you wasting your day?”
“Who says I’m wasting my day?”
“Well, if you’re not doing anything constructive it means that you’re wasting your day, doesn’t it Joshua?”
“Not necessarily Tulip.”
“Under what extenuating circumstances could you claim exemption from wastefulness?”
“Well, I am practicing my conversational skills, aren’t I?”
“Good point, Joshua. In that case though, why did you say that you weren’t doing anything constructive ?”
“Oh, just so that I could keep up the conversation.”
“Very noble of you, Joshua.”
“Oh, of course, Tulip. By the way, how’s Mr. Thench?”
“Oh, Rhododendron? He’s doing just peachily. Or floweringly might be more apt.” The silly woman giggles
“Well, ain’t that just too nice Tulip. Glad to hear your relationship is still so rosy. Encountered any thorns lately, though?”
“Well, now that you mention it, Joshua, we did have a slight problem a short while ago. Though I don’t know if I should mention it. Rhododendron probably wouldn’t like it.”
“Who cares about Rhododendron!”
“Well! I certainly do.”
“Well, I certainly don’t. The man is a stuck up prig. Plus, he likes chopped liver.”
“What’s wrong with chopped liver, or, for that matter, stuck up prigs?”
“They’re bad for the digestion.”
“Who, the liver, or the prigs?”
“Both.”
“That’s a nice thing to say about someone’s husband.”
“Glad you enjoyed it.”
“But really, what do you mean by talking in this most revolting manner?”
“Why? You don’t like it? Too bad.”
“No, it is definitely not too bad. I think I shall write to your most excellent mother. With her censure you should be slightly more normal.”
“That’s not bloody likely.”
“And that, Joshua, is exactly what I feared.”
The next day...
“Good morning sunshine, oh my sunshine, you make me haaappppyyyy, when the skies are gray, you always think that, you are so superior, so you always eat a, blue jay.”
“Beautiful sir, just a true work of brilliant genius. High art is what I call it. The unconscience desire to break these shackled bonds that hold you to the earth and you rise higher and higher to the great challenge awaiting all in the sky.”
“What rubbish you speak, Chandler.”
“Very good, sir.”
Note here folks, Chandler is Joshua’s butler. He sometimes gets carried away though.
“So Chandler, what’s for brekkie?”
“Brekkie sir?”
“Oh, don’t be a fool, Chandler. You know, breakfast: bacon, eggs, pancakes, cherry blintzes, waffles, butter on toast, plenty of hot and strong coffee, perhaps a cup of tea, a glass of milk, a muffin for afters.”
“Sounds rather unhealthy, sir.”
“No one asked you if it was meant to be healthy, Chandler, I just asked you to make it.”
“With what?”
“I don’t know, Chandler, you’re the cook around here.”
“Very good, sir, but there’s no food.”
“So go and buy some. Meanwhile, I await your return with an ever increasing appetite. If you’re not careful, Chandler, I shall starve.”
“That would be most unfortunate, sir. Unfortunately, there is no money to satiate your rather large appetite.”
“Less of the commentary, Chandler, and more of the food. Where exactly did all my money go?”
“You’ve squandered it, sir.”
“What are you talking about, Chandler?”
“Well, you can’t expect to lose all your fortune at the racing track and no feel any effects, sir.”
“I didn’t lose all my money at the track, Chandler. I didn’t even go there!”
“Too bad, sir, you might have enjoyed it.”
“So then what are you talking about? Who lost all their money on the horses?”
“Greyhounds, sir.”
“Well then, greyhounds? Who lost all their money on greyhounds?”
“Me, sir.”
“What!”
“Sorry sir, that was just the bell ringing there. I’ll just answer it.”
A few seconds later... Well, actually, more then just a few. Several, perhaps.
“Sir, your mother, the noted moralitician.”
“The noted what, Chandler?”
“Moralitician, sir. Person who deals with morality.”
“Sounds suspiciously like a mortician, Chandler.”
“Exactly, sir. They have much the same function.”
“Very good, Chandler. You may go now. Yes mother, what can I do for you?”
“Well, I’ve come about that letter from Mrs. Tulip Thench. She seemed very shocked at your behavior.”
“Doesn’t bother me.”
“No, it wouldn’t, would it.”
“So getting to the gist of the matter, mother, you wonder what my side of the story is?”
“Exactly.”
“Well, I’m sure that it’s much the same as she described it to you.”
“So can you explain yourself.”
“Oh, no. Heavens no. What a ghastly thing to think about. Why in the world should I explain myself?”
“Because if you don’t, I’ll be forced to punish you.”
“And how would you do that?”
“I would kill you.”
“Well that’s a nice thing to say to someone’s only son!”
“Precisely.”
“Huh?”
“Actually, I think I would force you to do something even worse.”
“No, are you talking about...”
“Yes.”
“No. You wouldn’t punish me like that?’
“O h yeas I would.”
“You’re serious?”
“Deadly.”
“Ah.”
“Wasn’t that supposed to be slightly longer?”
“Well, it was, but I couldn’t keep it up very long.”
“Why not?”
“Well, it didn’t strike me as being the done thing.”
“Makes sense.”
“I believe it definitely does.”
“Anyway, you have thirteen seconds before I punish you.”
“What do you want me to do?”
“Well Joshua, I want you to explain yourself.”
“But that’s just as bad as ...”
“Well, that’s the point, isn’t it?”
“Besides, if you do that I’ll explain myself anyway?”
Chandler walks into the room.
“Did you call, sir?”
“Yes, thank you for being so prompt. Could you please ask Mrs. Thench to come into the room?”
“Certainly, sir. She will be coming in right now.”
Mr. Tulip Thench walks in several minutes later, announced by Chandler, of course.
“You wanted me, Joshua?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact, I did.”
“Well then, shoot.”
Quick as a whip, Joshua shoots Mrs. Tulip Thench. She dies. Great mourning. On her coffin they placed some roses. Less poetic that way.
“Well Mr. Rhododendron Thench, I’m very sorry.”
“No, that’s all right Joshua. I was looking for an excuse to marry your mother anyway.”
‘Oh!”
“Any problem?”
“Well, if you could just wait a second.”
“Certainly.”
Not so quick this time, Joshua shoots both Mr. Rhododendron Thench and his mother. They both die. It was a comfort, though, that it was in each other’s arms. Mourning wasn’t so great this time. After all, this time Joshua was paying for the funeral. On the two coffins they placed some roses. In fact, it was the same roses that had been placed on Mrs. Tulip Thench’s coffin. The mortician thought it would be romantic. He was wrong, it was more ironic then anything.
“So all in all, Chandler, a pretty good day. Everyone who needed to got canned. By the way, what in the world were you talking about when you said I had lost all my money gambling on greyhounds?”
“Well, sir, I meant that I had wasted all your money gambling on greyhounds.”
“In that case, Chandler, I shall punish you in the worst possible way that I know of.”
“What’s that, sir?”
“You must continue to work for me.”

The triumphant return!

There was a little clamoring this afternoon for the Joshua stories, and I thought I'd oblige tonight. One thing I've noticed about these stories-they are intensely weird. Not that weird is a bad thing, of course. The only problem is, I'm just trying to figure out which of the twenty or so stories that I wrote five years ago would translate well into this busy world we live in today. I suppose I'll just choose a random story... Now remember, I wrote this a long time ago. I'm sure there are a thousand holes that can be poked in it. Please, do me a favor, and point out any inconsistencies or stupidities to TRS circa 2004. I'm sure he'll appreciate it.

Joshua XI

Joshua’s Jericho

“Hey, Joe!”
“Yeah? What?”
“What are you doing in that fox hole?”
“Getting shot at.”
“Hey, so am I!”
“Brilliant deduction, Einstein.”
“Mind if I jump in?”
“Yes.”
“That’s not very nice.”
“Sorry.”
“So you’re just going to let me die here?”
“No, you could jump into the hare’s hole next to me.”
“It’s not big enough.”
“So dig an extension.”
“But I’ll need to refinance and get a home loan for that.”
“Oh, really? Well when I refinanced, I got a great rate from Pinkerton Brothers, they were really good. I got a great rate and a $1000 gift card from Houses R Us. I really recommend them.”
“What is this, an infomercial?”
“No, it’s just that I get a referral fee of $100 every time I send them a customer.”
“Nice.”
“So you’ll start digging soon?”
“I think so, it does seem to be getting pretty hot out here.”
“What in the world are you talking about? This is worse then Valley Forge!”
“No, I mean the smithy is starting to heat the fire.”
“Eh?”
“Well, you know, forge, smithy, fire, uh,”
“Why in the world do you feel compelled to make a complete fool of yourself every time you say something?”
“I blame it on the one above.”
“You’re blaming it on a U-2 pilot?”
“No, I’m blaming it on the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost.”
“You’re Catholic?”
“Not exactly, I’m more Unitarian then anything.”
“Right.”
“Really?!”
“Listen Joshua, I totally believe you.”
“No you don’t.”
“Yes I do.”
“Prove it.”
“How can I possibly prove that I believe something?”
“Well, it’s your own fault for getting in such a pickle.”
“That’s a lot of help.”
“Well, I sure am glad that I could be of service.”
“How about you prove to me that you’re Unitarian.”
“Wait, I thought you believed me?”
“I do.”
“So why do you want me to prove that I’m a Unitarian?”
“Just for practice.”
“Oh, okay, if it’ll make you happy.”
“Oh yes, it definitely will make me extremely happy. I think I’ll start to bubble soon I’ll be so happy. My mood will be positively frabjous.”
“Well, I am always happy to make someone happy. Gives me such a feeling of a job well done.”
“Well then, start doing it.”
“Here goes: I am a Unitarian because I say I am.”
“What, I think, therefore I am?”
“Theft is property, therefore property is theft, therefore your fox hole is mine!”
Brief scuffle results in Joe being summarily evicted from his fox hole.
“I’ll sue you for this! You’ll pay damages! I’ll have the law on you! I have my rights, you know!”
“Beat it bubs. This fox hole is like, being mine.”
“What an absolutely typical anti-American communist.”
“Fascist.”
“What, you make the trains run on time?”
“Of course.”
“But you have no trains!”
“Exactly.”
“Great, just what I need, an existentialist.”
“No, a Unitarian.”
“What, back onto that again?”
“I bet you don’t even know what an existentialist is.”
“And I bet that you don’t even know what a Unitarian is.”
“So we’re all square?”
“No! Of course not.”
“Why?”
“Because you brought up this whole Unitarian thing first. You got to explain yourself.”
“Oh yeah? Well, I have long-term memory loss, so I only remember that you said that I was an existentialist.”
“Is it possible to be both a Unitarian and a existentialist?”
“Well, I seem to be doing a good job of it.”
“According to who?”
“Whom.”
“All right, according to whom?”
“Hoyle.”
“What? This is a matter of religion, not poker!”
“Au Contraire, they are the same thing.”
“And next thing I know, you’ll be going Gump on me and saying that religion is like a box of cards, you never know what, is, uh,”
“You never know which one you draw first.”
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“Regardless of its making sense or not, it sounds good.”
“No it doesn’t! I can not imagine Tom Hanks saying something like that.”
“Jim Carey!”
“No, it was Tom Hanks.”
“Who are we going to ask to find out who’s right?”
“Let’s ask that manipulative movie maven over there.”
“Okay.”
The two crawl over to the fox hole of the manipulative movie maven.
“Hey! Who says I’m manipulative?”
“Well, that’s what the flag above your hole says.”
“Actually, it isn’t saying anything.”
“So then what is it doing?”
‘Communicating.”
“That doesn’t sound too good.”
“No, you’re right.”
“Joshua?”
“Yes Joe?”
“I’ve been thinking.”
“That’s a first.”
“You know, the line that Gump uses in the movie doesn’t make sense. After all, in most boxes of chocolate, there are different designs for the different kinds of chocolate. So you really can tell what you’re going to get.”
“That’s a very good point Joe.”
“Can I get a word in edgewise here people?”
“Sure you can, Manipulative Movie Maven.”
“Take that sign down and cross out the word Manipulative Joshua.”
“Okay.”
“And you, Joe, state your case.”
“Sure. Well Movie Maven, Joshua and I were arguing,”
“Hey!”
“What Joshua?”
“The Movie Maven just manipulated us!”
“I did not!”
“Yes you did.”
“Joshua, never say something like that again.”
“All right.”
“Thank you.”
“So as I was saying movie Maven, Joshua and I have an argument about who played the title character in Forrest Gump. He says Jim Carey while I hold that it was Tom Hanks.”
“Oh, that’s an easy one, it was Tom Hanks.”
“You sure?”
“Yup. Sorry Joshua, you was wrong.”
“Too bad Joshua, better luck next time.”
“Dang!”
The two crawl away from the movie maven to their own fox hole and, in Joe’s case, hare’s hole.
“You know Joshua, I think it’s called a warren.”
“Well, that’s for a rabbit. I think that for a hare it’s all right to live in a hole.”
“Whatever you say.”
“So back to one of our original arguments, as you just proved, a saying doesn’t necessarily need to be true to be used.”
“Obviously. Property is theft is totally not true.”
Mild scuffle results in Joshua moving into hare’s hole.
“I think a good saying would be that religion is like a card game: in both cases, you want the dealer to cheat for you.”
“That’s a good one Joe.”
“Thanks Joshua.”
“Can I have my hole back?”
“No.”
“Back to an even further argument, or maybe it was more recent, I have no idea.”
“Because you have bad long-term memory.”
“Right.”
“Is it possible to be both a Unitarian and existentialist?”
“You say I am.”
“No, I say that you’re an existentialist; you say that you’re a Unitarian.”
“Do you know what either is?”
“Theoretically.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“That’s what I’m asking you.”
“How about we both write definitions on pieces of paper, and whichever one is right gets the fox hole.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Why should I give up my hole if I’m proved to be a fraud?”
“Well, that shouldn’t be a problem, huh?”
“True.”
“Okay then, do you want to do it?”
“Oh fine.”
Much scribbling.
“Now we need an impartial judge.”
“How about we go to George the Judicious Groundhog for a ruling?”
“That’s a good idea.”
They crawl off in the opposite direction of the Movie Maven.
“George?”
“Squeak, snort, squeak squeak, sniff, sniffle, snort, squeak!”
Simply because we here at Joshua Enterprises are so inclined, we will provide a translation.
“I refuse to talk to people who first steal my hole and then think that a hare or rabbit could possibly have made such a comfortable place.”
“Please?”
“No.”
They crawl back to the fox hole and (as now revealed) groundhog den.
“Well, let’s at least exchange papers and see what the other wrote.”
“Joshua?”
“Yeah?”
“You wrote, ‘Ethiopia is a country in Africa.’ how could you do something like that?”
“Yeah Joe, you wrote, ‘Ethiopia is a country in Africa.’ too. How could you do something like that?”
“Oh. Yeah. I remember that.”
“Maybe we’re fraternal twins who were separated at birth?”
“Maybe we’re not, Joshua; I’d hate to be related to you.”
“That wasn’t a nice thing to say Joe.”
“Sorry.”
“So I’ll take it that neither of us knows the first thing about existentialism or Unitarianism?”
“Sure.”
“Good.”
“Now onto another topic of debate then.”
“What’s that Joe?”
“That thing about the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost.”
“We never debated about that?”
“I was meaning to.”
“Okay, so what’s the debate?”
“Well, whether there is actually any one above?”
“You mean whether there is the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost?”
“Exactly.”
“Well, if you prefer monotheism...”
“Actually, I prefer nothing.”
“You’re an atheist?”
“Yup.”
“Then what are you doing in that fox hole?”
“Haven’t we already agreed that most trite sayings aren’t true?”
“That doesn’t mean you have to prove them wrong Joe. Get out of that fox hole!”
Major skirmish results in Joe being expelled to the rodent’s retreat while Joshua regains his residence in the groundgog grotto.
A short while later a passing shell kills Joe. A voice is heard from the heavens:
“I may only be the writer, Joshua, but I do appreciate when you stand up for your beliefs and don’t allow cliches to become obsolescent.”
A short while after that Joe is buried with full military honors under the cross his parents provided. He is still seething.

State Fair Reds

On Friday I went to the Minnesota State Fair, with my trusty Tefillin in one hand and a couple of hamburgers for lunch in the other. We chanced upon the GOP booth, and after getting my Norm Coleman campaign button I began to chat with an elderly volunteer. She told me about he son-in-law who's convinced he's Jewish, and her daughter who's a good Catholic, pushing out babies every couple of years and supporting her family to boot. I asked the volunteer if her son-in-law's mother was Jewish? Turns out that they're good Episcopalians. I told her that she should tell her son-in-law to visit a Rabbi in Tucson, where he lives, and get this whole thing cleared up.
After watching a pig give birth it was time for lunch, and the hamburgers were quite good. Unfortunately, I had forgotten to bring any mustard, but I survived the experience. I'm sure that you're all quite proud of me.
One of the great things about the State Fair is all the free shtuff you can get. Sure, it's nothing too exciting, but it's always nice to come away with thirty free pencils, fifteen yard sticks, innumerable fans, and a toy football or cup sleeve. One year we even got free t-shirts from the local communist paper! The best place for consistently excellent freebies is the education building, where all the local universities try to get you with various thingies. This year it seemed like everyone at the fair had a purple tote (decent quality too) from St. Thomas University in S. Paul. I assume that these promotions are a bit expensive, but the exposure that is gained is tremendous.
Anyway, this year was a bit shvach, because I spent most of my time with my nieces and very little of it finding shtuff.
While in the education building I came upon the JCRC (Jewish Community Relations Council) booth while pushing one of my nieces. I assumed that the elderly gentleman who was volunteering there was Jewish, and I went over and asked him if he wanted to put on Tefillin. He said that he didn't, and that he didn't even put them on by his Bar Mitzvah. He seemed to sense that he was being a bit harsh, and realized that he was after all supposed to be representing Jewish Relations. We began to chat, his name is Yaakov, and he told me that the booth is taken over by Christians on Friday afternoons and on Saturdays, which is nice.

Last night I discussed this with some Rabbi-type people at a Shalom Zochor here in beautiful S. Paul. First of all, I must point out, a big Mazel Tov to the Weiss and Knoblauch families, who happen to be related (R. W. and Mrs. K. are brother and sister), which made the double Shalom Zochor so much easier for everyone. My only slight quibble was that it's perhaps a little unfortunate that a town which sees one Shalom Zochor every six months or so, if that, got two in one week. Still, I'm not complaining, and the garbanzo beans made the usual fine finger food.
Getting back to the aborted Tefillin attempt, it seems that my efforts were appreciated, if not applauded. People seem to think that everyone is capable of slapping Tefillin on reluctant arms, and that the recipients of such gestures will think it an endearing and uplifting experience. I'm not denying that some people do this quite well; Rabbi Feller here and Rabbi Samuels in Milwaukee come to mind, but not everyone is cut out for this role. Well, maybe they should be. I don't know.

Assorted rambles

About a week ago I promised the proprietors of Chrudge.com a review of their site. For a week I mulled over the possibilities, and have finally come to the conclusion that it is in fact a pretty decent site. Unfortunately, it hasn't really inspired any great prose, at least out of this reviewer, so I suppose you'll just have to check it out yourself.

Meanwhile, in other news, I suppose I had better acquiesce to another fan's request and explain why exactly I don't like Rabbi Shmuley Boteach. In fact, contrary to said fan's opinion, I have nothing against the good Rabbi. Sure, I don't agree with everything he says, but that's perfectly acceptable. So all in all, this paragraph, like the one before it, was a bit of a dud.

Third time's the charm, as the sages would have it, and I suppose I'll tell a little story to round off this singularly uninspiring post:

"Fiction is as fiction does," said Joshua, "but it would be nice to someday actually do something real."
"That's a nice thought," replied his friend, "but I'm afraid you're a fictional character, and fictional characters very rarely do anything real."
Joshua contemplated this for a moment, and then his eyes brightened. "If I can do something, not for real, and convince people that it really happened, will that count as something real?"
His friend responded with a "Hmm", and then said, "Perhaps. It's an interesting idea. What did you have in mind?"
Joshua said, "I was thinking of starting a blog. No one would ever know it was me, and I could become famous!"
"No one would ever no it wasn't you. The real problem is, how are you going to do anything if you can't do anything? You're a fictional character for crying out loud!"
Joshua paused, and said, "I'll get back to you on that one."

Echoing Joshua's words, me too.

20 Av stories

Here are the stories about R' Levik, the Rebbe's father, in honor of his Yahrtzeit, which is tonight and tomorrow.
------
A Jew once visited R' Levik, the Rebbe's father, in exile, and R' Levik held the Jew for five hours saying Torah.

R' Levik held a Minyan at 7:00 AM on Yom Kippur so that people could Daven and then head off to work.
------
JJ Hecht told a story on his radio show once. His father, Yehoshua Hecht, was a Chassidic business man, and once he went to a Doctor. After the examination he asked the doctor how much he owed? The good doctor said, "I don't charge Rabbis". The doctor was informed that the honest business man was not, in fact, a Rabbi, even if he did have a beard and long coat. Still, the doctor refused to charge, and after this had gone on a couple times he explained, "You have six sons who are Rabbis. By me you're a Rabbi!"
JJ said, "I didn't know the Rebbe's father, but I know the Rebbe, for me that's enough."
------
A non-religious Jew once came to R' Levik and said, "I need to bake Matzos today for Pesach." R' Levik answered, "That's nice, but I can't do it today. Tomorrow will work for me though." The Jew said, "No, I have to do it today." Again R' Levik tried to explain that it would have to wait a day. The Jew said, "Then I won't have Matzos to eat this Pesach." R' Levik said, "Nu nu, you won't have Matzos for Pesach." The Jew exploded, "What kind of Rabbi are you? A Jew won't have Matza for Pesach and you don't care? That's sick!" R' Levik later said that this was the happiest he ever felt.
------
R' Levik was eventually released from exile in Chile, but he was not allowed to go home. Instead he was sent to Alma Ata, which at least had some Jews. The Raskin family was among these Jews, and they used to help R' Levik. R' Levik's final Tisha B'Av happened to fall out on a Sunday, which meant of course that the day before the fast was a Shabbos. R' Mendel Raskin helped out R' Levik on this Shabbos. R' Levik began to say Chassidus in the early afternoon, and continued on for many hours. R' Mendel wanted to go home and eat something, but he felt bad leaving R' Levik while he was still saying Chassidus. Eventually nightfall came, and still the Chassidus continued. Eventually R' Levik ended, at around 11:00 PM. When R' Mendel came home theu told him how lucky he was. This was 1944, and the Russians were in the middle of a fearsome war with the Germans. The authorities had come around that very night with the intention of snatching R' Mendel, who was of military age. They were told that he was not home, and so left, but they soon came back. They turned the house over, convinced that he was hiding, yet they didn't find him. Eventually they gave up, and a little while later R' Mendel walked in the door, unharmed.
------
Rebbitzen Chana said, on the last 20 Av of her life, "I've seen great men. I saw my husband (R' Levik), my father, and my grandfather, but none could compare to my son (The Rebbe). He combines the greatest brilliance with the greatest Pshitus (simplicity)."
------
As Rabbi Lew prepared to tell the following story he remarked, "This is the first time I'm telling this story; I don't think it's printed anywhere." I turned to Rabbi Manis Friedman and Rabbi Yosef Eizicovics and said, "Not for long".

R' Levik had a brother who was married to Rebbitzen Chana's sister, meaning that two brothers married two sisters. Near the end of R' Leviks life, a letter came in the mail for him, but he didn't open it. A few months went by, and he passed away. The letter was then opened, and it was discovered that it contained news of R' Levik's brother's passing. It was theorized that the reason R' Levik didn't open the letter was because he knew what it contained inside, with his Ruach HaKodesh, but he didn't want to have to sit Shiva, which he would Halachicly be required to do if he read the letter, because he was too sick.
------
Rabbi Manis Friedman
There is a famous story of R' Levik; in short, he was appointed by the Soviets to be in charge of the Shmura Matza, and one of the cars carrying the Shmura wheat wasn't covered properly, which lead to its being suspected of not being Kosher for Pesach. R' Levik refused to accept the shipment of wheat, and the Soviets allowed for another train to come instead, which brought Shmura what this time.
The Rebbe used to tell this story with great fervor. Why? Any other Chassid who was in Soviet Russia would have done the same thing as R' Levik. What was so special about his actions?
The difference between R' Levik and all other Chassidim is that the Soviet government capitulated to R' Levik. This means that R' Levik was connected to Malchus, sovereignty, which means that he had a connection to Nesius, leadership. All the Schneersons had this special connection.