A Conspiracy? You Tefillin the Blanks
You'll recall that DebaclypseNow recently reported on an excursion evandebacle took to the Greater Chicago Jewish Festival as part of his continuing effort to be down with his Tribe and to find more people who might pose the eternal question, "Are you on JDate?" In spite of the mind-bendingly masterful musical performance by Lisa Loeb and the amazing swag procured along the way, something darker seems to have transpired that day. DebaclypseNow has recently obtained exclusive pictures* of the incident (That's right Shiloh, you ain't the 'It' pic no more!) and the inside story of what went down.
It was a lovely day, cool and overcast, but the crowds at the Festival were warmed by the spirit of tradition and the highly anticipated Kvetch-Off which would mark the culmination of the day's events. As near as we can piece together the sequence of events, things took a sinister turn during a stroll through the booths at the center of the grounds.
Shortly after picking up his Chicago Jewish Funerals hacky sack, evandebacle was approached by a doughy, patchy-bearded young man who wanted to show him something. He seemed unlikely to boast about JDate triumphs, so evandebacle stopped. The leaven-stomached lad asked him to come over an "do tefillin." This is the conversation that the stage mics miraculously picked up from hundreds of yards away:
"Hey, Mac, c'mere. Wanna do a tefillin?"
"Tefillin. A black thing you wear it on your arm."
"No way, Mac. It's cool. Like them wrist bands everyone's got. Because...uh...we Jews love Lance Armstrong so much."
"Yeah...uh...Making do with less. He's missing a testicle, it does the work of two. We had one day's worth uh oil; it lasted for eight. We Jews respect that kinda thing."
It seemed innocent enough, but before this ritual show of support for Our Chosen Cyclist, Lance-ala, could begin, the young man had surreptitiously placed a mind control cap on evandebacle's head, making him submit to the Will of Chabad and even causing him to chant strange incantations backwards.
Things began to look dire as the doughy man wound the "wristbands" around and around, ensnaring him tighter and tighter with each loop. The change was immediate. Just compare the disaffected look of the first picture with the goofy Prozac smile of the second. He's a mindless Jewtomaton! For a while, the conversation turned from the obvious ruse of the wristbands to talk of God and belief and tradition, and then to something far more inimical:
"How does that feel, Mac? Good?"
"It's tight, but still...perfect, My Doughy Master."
"Tight is good. You will be bound to me with this forever!"
"Goooooooood...Uhhh, forever, you say?"
"You heard me right, Jewna Gershon! Bound. To. Me."
What happened to evandebacle after being wrangled into the inner workings of this ancient JBDSM cult? Who were these people who could just set up a tent and practice sectarian male bondage? What are they to do with him? Make him eschew his secular ways? Maybe they are going to hold him hostage and farm his curly locks for Hasidim cursed to be born with straight hair? It's awful. It's cruel. Like something out of science fiction. Like Soylent Heeb! If only we believed enough to pray for you evandebacle. If only.
*Pictures provided by MSC Blackmail Snaps, photos fit for a King('s ransom). That's MSC Blackmail Snaps, where our motto is "If you don't post these on the internet, I will!"