Out Of Luck -

With A Dybbuk
Forsooth, are we not back to whining and complaining about the M.E.N.'s Codeword?
     Well, yes, we are, in case you thought that was a rhetorical question.
     If you follow these pages of canted scrivel, then you realise that Conrad is forever doing Cryptic Crosswords and Codewords, because 1)  He can and 2)  It helps to keep his wits sharp and 3)  Something about memory?

Winchester Cathedral.  Because we can.

     SO!  I wish to protest at whomsoever is compiling the more recent versions, since they have decided to include words waaaaaaay outside the normal criteria.  "HAUTEUR" anyone?  How about "LARYNX"?  And of course today's titular element, the "DYBBUK".
     This is going to take a bit of explaining.  Okay, here is Jewish mythology.  You've already encountered the Golem,* now meet the Dybbuk.

A bit Expressionistic for my tastes ...

     The dybbuk is the Judean equivalent of a possessing spirit, hijacking a passing body to carry out unspeakable evil, or a bar mitzvah, whichever comes first.  
     Here an aside.  I do seem to recall a back-up story in the monthly editions of "Rom", which concerned the first British person to be killed in the Second Unpleasantness.  He was an ambassador in Warsaw, who then became a species of dybbuk, inhabiting the bodies of Axis soldiers killed in order to <thinks> help the good guys win.  It was an interesting take on the Second Unpleasantness's less familiar theatres.  Can't remember what it was called, though.

A PROMenade of - do you see what I did there?

     My complaint is that a dybbuk is, as you may concede, rather outside the purlieu of normal conversational English as she is spoke.  Of course I got it, because I'm me, but just think of all the other people out there who aren't, and whom will have been baffled.**      Okay, time to go make some toast and coffee.  I shall be back shortly, after I have also contorted the motley into the office dishwasher on Extra-Hot and Extra-Long!

"Escheat"
 - the word that flew into my head upon waking up this morning - I used to have a bit of notepaper by the bedside to write down such inspirations but it's fallen down the back of the cupboard - and, since my Collins Concise was to hand, I looked it up.

WRONG!

     Nothing  to do with playing unsportingly, a Continental disease ones presumes since us here in Perf - in the Allotment of Eden would never play unfairly - and in fact to do with land inheritance.  The term - obviously! - has it's roots in Latin, "Ex-cadere" meaning "to fall out", and dates back as concept and practice to the feudal era.  Your lands would be escheated prior to 1926 if you shuffled off this mortal coil with no heirs, meaning that the Crown got it's hot sweaty hands on the lands, hence the land had fallen out of your possession.      There, now we all know more than we did ten minutes ago. 
Oh My
Where do I start?  There's a sidebar on the Beeb's website asking the pertinent question "Why do so many people believe conspiracy theories?"      BECAUSE THEY'RE FRICKIN' IDIOTS! is the short response.
     BECAUSE THEY'RE SWIVEL-EYED LOONWAFFLING BAFOONS! is the slightly longer one.

https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-47144738

     There you go, a link to the very article.
     They quote Michael Shermer, noted as editor of "The Skeptic", and who wrote a book worth tracking down for a peruse: "Why People Believe Weird Things".
     It is noted in the article, and I have noticed myself, that conspiracy theories have to be unfalsifiable, in that they cannot be disproved, which enables them to persist over time.

One of the six basic food types

     The article makes mention of "Pizzagate", an conspiracy theory whipped up out of nothing, and which all the idiots climbed aboard, frothing with hatred and indignation.  Here's one bafoon's take on it:
     "Pizzagate is a world-wide citizen investigation now.  It cannot be stopped.  At this point the truth being brought to light is inevitable."
     As soon as one reads "citizen investigation" the red light should be flashing.  What they mean is that an army of basement-dwelling trolls are hammering away on their keyboards, having spotted a pixel out of place on a picture on the internet somewhere.  Well, ironically enough, the truth has emerged: that Pizzagate is a big load of honking nonsense.
     Bah!

CAUTION!  Possesses a higher IQ than most Pizzagaters 

     Actually we may come back to this; as a subject it has both legs and stamina, two qualities that appeal to a blogger like your humble scribe.

     And now - to work!

The Heirarchy Of Hell

I mentioned that scallywag Belphagor yesterday, whose characteristic Sin Of Specialism is Sloth, which he works hard to promote, it seems.  He is but one of the Seven Princes of Hell, according to the classification of one Peter Binsfeld (1595, so practically yesterday), each of whom act to promulgate one of the Seven Deadly Sins.     Conrad wonders what classification Ol' Pete would come up with today, in the world of nation-states governed by parliaments where the monarchy is very much in the back seat or merely rubber-stamps legislation.

The Right Honourable Member for Finchley East

     There does seem to be a clash of responsibilities in Ol' Pete's list, which I shall append here, and their principal sin alongside each prince:

Satan:  Pride

Mammon:  Greed

Asmodeus: Lust

Leviathan: Envy

Beelzebub: Gluttony

Satan: Wrath

Belphegor: Sloth

     It seems to your humble scribe that firstly Satan, Beelezebub and Mammon have their work cut out, because all it takes is a little self-control and bingo!  Deadly Sin defeated.  Also, Mammon and Beelzebub seem to have a clash of responsibilities here, since there is something of an overlap.  Who claims the credit when Conrad gobbles down a twin-pack of 24 Jaffa Cakes at one sitting, eh?*** Is there a Hades Adjudication Panel they can refer to?  Don't try telling me it can be settled administratively - there is no paperwork in Hell, for obvious reasons.
     Another problem is the apparent lack of leadership: there's nobody in overall charge.  To whom do the minor imps and demonlings defer?  If Satan clocks Leviathan one, who can Levi take a complaint to?

Call for A.C.A.S.!

     This is amusing stuff!  I think we may carry on with it at a later date, for you know Conrad loves to squeeze every last drop of humour out of a trope.

And with that, we are done.  Enjoy!^


*  And if not, that's a whole other story of considerable length.
**  <does evil snigger>
***  A feat now relegated to history.
^  But not too much, as that would be sinful.