Wedding

Innocent Cow

I dreamed I was a righteous and virgin cow. I don't touch other cows, nor a bull until the wedding, and I oppose the moral corruption around me, blessing the grass even when I'm ruminating, and making a moo that sounds like amen. And everyone laughs at me, calling me the crazy cow, who would want to marry you? We don't get married here. And one day in the meadow it starts raining and doesn't stop. At first we're happy, but when we have to put our heads underwater for a bit of grass, all the cows, including the coarsest beasts, start to pray. And the meadow turns into a huge pool from horizon to horizon, and we fat ones hop around lightly, until we can no longer touch the ground, my dear sisters start to drown, and I too swallow water and don't forget to bless that everything, and at the last moment a righteous ultra-Orthodox man comes on a raft to save us, but he only takes me, and all the secular sisters are left behind looking and looking and looking.

And he gets angry at me: Why didn't you come on time? Do you need a special invitation? And he puts me in a huge black box that says Noah's Ark on it, and says I'm the pure beast, the seventh cow chosen. And throughout the flood, even on the black nights when the box is about to fall apart, I restrain myself from touching the handsome, righteous and innocent bull that Noah matched for me, my fiancé may he live. And every night my beloved comforts me about my mother and sisters, you'll see what a wonderful family we'll establish in the new world, when it's all over, you'll see, we won't fight even once, we'll never stop loving.

And in the middle of the endless night the box opens to a blinding white light, turns out it's day outside now! And Noah is performing a mass wedding for all the animals outside, husband and wife, and blesses them, and for us he makes a cow wedding, dressing the cows in a white dress that even covers the behind, and the bulls in prayer shawls, and blesses us to be fruitful and multiply, and six pairs of cows enter the marriage covenant before us, we're last but not least. And Noah raises me and my husband onto a special high platform above everyone - for a burnt offering.

Before the Wedding - The Last Conversation with S'

I dreamed. How did you survive after the breakup? I'm an excellent cockroach, a bunker. I'll survive a nuclear holocaust. I learned to argue, I learned that family. And gentiles, I hate gentiles. It wasn't like that before. Yes, I noticed that-. Gentiles is a recurring theme in the conversation. How did we survive? Really, all credit to me. I remember, you were a bunker from the start. True, there are moments of revelation. But I don't feel like I know anything about you. Nothing. Most couples don't love after a few years. What keeps them together is loyalty, and- gentiles. Hatred and love - the acronym for holocaust. Yes, gentiles. I really wanted to cry, I really wanted to, but. I couldn't. I don't know, more accessible? I thought the opposite. Or I'm just trying less. I became more religious. What?? What keeps people together, fear, today people don't love. To do things out of fear, everything needs to be. Out of love. Sorry, high tones don't suit my voice. She keeps crumbling it, consciously. Or unconsciously. She. You're contradicting yourself, you know? You need to fight it, the romance. It has made generations of people miserable. Do you know hatred, hatred? Quite an unconventional groom, you are. Full of hatred. You too need the fantasy. What do you mean by "dead"? As if - there are no more people in the world. Everything needs to be out of passion? Once - once there was such a thing - fear of God.

AIDS of Knowledge

I dreamed they found a technological solution for the evil inclination. From now on, every boy from age zero wears special augmented reality glasses that hide all women on the street in black. It's simply a brilliant patent for guarding the eyes, so a man can't even know what a woman looks like until the wedding, that he can't even imagine or dream about her. They're simply a hole in the field of vision.

And I marry a black stain, and for the first time in my life in the seclusion room I take off the glasses. And I see that the woman is simply a monster, a kind of pile of all sorts of animals, fruits, and other vegetables. The eyes are small doves. Her nose is a tower. Her hair is a herd of stinking goats, and so are the teeth, she just opens her mouth and they all go: what, what? Under the braid her temple is split, and instead of a brain she has pomegranate seeds. From her chest come out two fawns. They're actually cute, but look hungry, and I'm afraid they'll bite me. And I run to the rabbi, he hasn't managed to escape from the wedding yet, and I ask: domestic harmony! And he tells me: The secret is communication. And I wait for her to fall asleep, because I'm afraid she'll open her eyes and the doves will fly away and she'll be left blind. And I approach one of the fawns, and try to start developing a common language with it. And I take the rose it's chewing out of its mouth, stamp it with its tongue on a confidentiality agreement, and share a bit about my world, my work in the high-tech field:

So here's the secret. If the next revelation of God will be through the Internet, it will need an appropriate infrastructure, right? So the idea for our startup - you can be trusted, right? - the idea is that because the network is so global, one connection is enough to connect the entire upper network to the entire lower network, and it will already be able to send through it to the whole world. So we'll lay the foundation, which will be the largest and most expensive infrastructure project since the creation of the world: an inter-world communication cable that will be laid under the heavens and connect between above and below. And in the future there will also be an elevator, and a restaurant, etc. The view is expected to be amazing, we anticipate exponential growth in traffic and revenue. Once we raise enough money from investors, we'll also divert the river from Eden, build a dam, turbine, think: just the infinite height of the waterfall from heaven to earth guarantees us infinite energy - and green. Well, I got a bit carried away. For now, even one optical fiber that reaches the heavens would be a big thing. So at the current, embryonic stage, I took it upon myself to start developing the connection, and learned web development. The whole world just wants people to enter their site, while I built a secret site. No search engine knows about it. There are no links to it and no links in it. You can only guess its name. Seemingly, anyone in the world can enter in a second, but no one will ever enter. And on my site I'm the Mara d'Atra, the site administrator, and the Torah descends from it at a rate of one bit per second - the writing speed. And in the whole world there's only one monkey that enters my site. I see the IP address in the middle of nowhere in the jungle. And believe me, for the animals we're like angels. You know how many potential users we have just in the Amazon basin, what a mass that's just waiting for the right idea and entrepreneur to come and pluck it? If we just imitate God like a monkey, we can give them Torah. And you ask what if God gets angry? At most he'll come down from the tree, if he's not really hanging up there, swinging. So there's no way in the world the startup won't succeed. Even if we can't bring down Torah to humans again - we can bring down Torah to animals. Monkey Torah. The first Internet religion.

The Toilet

I dreamed that the evil inclination is trying to tempt me, and I tell him: Don't bother. You know why? Because I have no illusions. And he says: Actually, you do. And he brings me a promiscuous student with skin who asks me what a black man like you is doing here in the basements of the university, and I run away from there before she offers me marriage. And he brings me a naive righteous woman who reads Psalms on the bus and all that's left of her being a woman is that she prays in feminine and not masculine form. And she looks at my sidelocks and asks: Can it reach the floor? And I remember the prophet Hosea who heard voices from heaven telling him to marry a prostitute. And he brings me a nice girl from a good family who overflows with understanding me, like a pot that understands and understands until it spills on the floor. And I disappear. And I hide and hide like a rabbit inside the hat, until she leaves, not daring to peek outside maybe she's already gone. And I hurry to find myself some virgin and elderly elephant. And my family goes crazy. No one understands why I'm marrying her, what kind of match is this, what does someone like me find in someone like her. And she's of course very happy, loves me very much, but very quickly I erase the stupid look from her face, because her silver candlesticks are curved at unworthy angles and I demand that she at least hide them under some dress, what is this here. And she cries a bit in the closet, but comes back from there happy, and whatever I do to her she continues to be in love, and just gets fatter from contentment, and I'm already going crazy. And the evil inclination suddenly tells me: She's your wife. It's allowed to treat her nicely, isn't it? And I warn my wife: There's some dog trying to sniff around the house. And I cut the phone and erase the computer. Pour her perfumes down the sink and her jewelry in the toilet, and then wipe all the cutlery in the house with toilet paper, no fingerprints. And slowly I erase all traces of my existence. Even the old men in the synagogue barely remember there was once someone like this here. And in the end even my wife and children forget I ever existed. As far as they're concerned I'm one of the old chairs in the house. And because no one ever sits on me they jokingly call me the seat of honor, when a guest comes we'll let him sit in the seat of honor. And one day a junk dealer comes, and I make my way to the Arab village. And the evil inclination tells me: What do you care if some Arab woman sits on you. It's allowed, isn't it? You're not a human anymore, you're a chair. And I tell him: You never know what they're hiding behind those veils. And he tells me: Now you'll know. And the Arab woman takes off her mask and I see it's my mother. I'm a gentile! I'm an Arab! I'm in my own home! Damn, this is probably the first place they'll look. And I try to drag myself with my chair legs to the door but barely make progress. The house is surrounded. And my mother tries to hide me in the fridge but my legs stick out, the fridge doesn't close, and the light from the fridge stands out even more in the dark. And I meet a tomato in the fridge. And it's red like ketchup, and tells the lettuce: Cover me quickly so he won't see. And I tell myself: This is my last chance to have a family life. And I start looking for her father to propose to her, and I ask the yogurt, the watermelon, even the shelf, but they all deny her with an Arab accent, leave her alone. You want to marry a whore? And the evil inclination tells me: Na na and na na. And the sky starts falling on me. First the clouds, it becomes foggy. Then you hear the birds crashing into the roof in droves. And the air becomes thin, hard to breathe. And suddenly everything is covered in a very thin plastic bag, but it's barely possible to move, because on the other side there are tons of water. This must be the firmament, oh no the pins I left in the drawer, soon the membrane will reach them. And a bombardment of angels begins, they make a terrible noise, like pianos falling from the sky. Boom! That was a double bass. A heavenly orchestra of holy bombs, nucleus, fruits, pinecones, and I'm already thinking of surrendering - and here crash - we're in the Garden of Eden and the giant trees from the creation of the world start entering the ground, and I grab the tree branches and they slip and slip like octopus tentacles, and in the end I hold on tight to the treetop and enter with it into the ground, a moment before I meet God. Just so he doesn't sit on me.

The Capture of God

I dreamed that I ask a stupid question in class, and the moment it comes out of my mouth I'm embarrassed by it, and I really blush when I realize it has a sexual tone, even though I didn't intend it at all. And the rabbis tell me to go down. And I see in the elevator that there's a key on the floor below ground, and I can't go down. And a huge square rabbi enters the elevator that takes up exactly all of it and lifts me to the ceiling with one hand, and I say: Thank you. And he asks: How are you getting along with your wife? I mean, how does a black fly get along with a white elephant? They don't get along, right? Come, you're invited. And he opens the door and I discover there's a yeshiva below the yeshiva. Below the Kabbalists' yeshiva there's a yeshiva of outcasts.

And these Kabbalists below are spies from above. Intercepting messages, I see someone among them holding a message from the holy beasts in his hand, and I quietly approach to peek from behind, and suddenly he turns around and I get slapped: Didn't you hear about the security of the holy apple fields?
- Sorry, it's my first day.
- First day, huh? Let there be light is the first door at the end of the corridor.
And the cursed Kabbalist there keeps talking about the big plan. We need to ruin the big plan. And my wife asks at night: When you're with me who are you thinking about, me or the Divine Presence?
- Honey, you're essentially the same one.
And she says in a restrained voice, of someone who's been hurt to the depths of her soul: So you're thinking about her?

And the next day there's an uproar in the yeshiva underground. One of the highest sources was exposed and burned at night for transferring holy materials to people without spiritual clearance. Documents with the highest holy classification, limited black! They tell me in a cemetery voice, and send me in a car with black windows, which takes me to a flight with black windows, and despite my calculations that it's day now, when I scratch the coating a bit I see stars outside. And suddenly there's a huge shake, all the passengers fly in the air, the plane crashes. And in one moment I realize I'm about to die in a second, damn! I won't have time to say Shema Yisrael. But here I've already finished Shema Yisrael, apparently it takes longer to die than I thought, and now I'll actually die and not in Shema Yisrael! So quickly I say Shema Yisrael again, but I haven't died yet, oh, I know how it will happen, this is my luck, exactly now I'll die and not in Shema Yisrael, and I say Shema Yisrael again. How long does it take for a plane to fall? And I see the houses close, close, and a tremendous hit, too late, Shema Yisrael! But I don't die, the plane remains intact. It's inconceivable, something's wrong in heaven. Or maybe we flew inside the earth, and that's why everything's upside down? But if so, then where did we crash?

And I return on all fours to understand to the Kabbalists' yeshiva in the ground, that they're looking for God, and he's hiding. And they tell me that once the firmament was young and taut, and it was impossible to hide in the heavens. Today when everything's so loose, go find him inside thousands of folds. He's never in the same place twice, and uses disposable angels made of white plastic to transfer instructions. It's a never-ending hunt, most experts have already despaired, but we'll still find him, he must make a mistake sometime. We built a special search engine just for him, and a special network in the empty space - to catch him. And I say I have a feeling he's hiding in another place entirely, a place you won't look for him at all, a place I won't tell you about. And they tell me: Just lead us with closed eyes, without us knowing where it is. We've been looking for God for a very long time. We just want to ask him a few questions, that's all, we promise. And they organize a special team of Ethiopian ultra-Orthodox Jews in shtreimels, black on black camouflage, doesn't reflect light, and I lead them to the target. And the moment I give identification to the hit squad they suddenly pull out new unfamiliar books in the Bible and futuristic Kabbalah books I've never seen in my life from the shtreimels - and erase him.

Plague

I dreamed I was studying Gemara, and I'm chewing the page like dry matzah with black marks, and know that I have hundreds more thin pages ahead of me to reach the olive-sized portion. And suddenly it catches my eye, I see in the Tosafot before me, in black and white, something unheard of - I realize that the Tosafists are a circle of the Zohar's authors. It can't be, the Tosafot! And precisely because it's so unbelievable - it's the true secret. The secret of the Torah of Truth. And I start reading with trembling fingers in the dense lines, that extend beyond the page, and understand that there's a hidden page in the Gemara, page 3, concealed like the afikoman. And I touch the edge of the letters, next to it - pressed, afraid to fully put my hand inside, who knows what else will be there, and they'll say thief. After all, the secret isn't meant for me. And my hand is pressed trembling confused and loses the page and the book closes on it - and I can't feel that I have a hand, that I have fingers, mom! I can't type or even open the computer with a password, and all the time I feel a hot point touching me, something very immodest, intimate, in secret. A sin to my threads. And I run to the bathroom of the study hall, lock the door and look, and see that if you look really closely you can read letters in the palm, wrinkling and running inside me when I move my fingers. And I understand from them that this palm computer, in which my eyes gradually recognize more and more whole words in the dark, is connected to a secret communication network not of this world. Internet from above. Including classified operations at a level forbidden for Rebbes to know, transparent wings in the heavens that don't even appear in the holy books, entire worlds that only a handful of angels know of their existence, and everything - in the palm of my hand. What an unbelievable blunder. And I try to understand what's happening inside all the holy names and acronyms, and suddenly I hear the voice of the Rosh Yeshiva behind the door: Who's stuck there for so long? What are you doing there?

And I bandage my hand with toilet paper so they won't see, and I'm not willing to remove the bandage, and my wife is worried: If you're injured go with me to the doctor! Why aren't you showing, what are you holding there? And my hand seems to hear what she's talking about, because its appearance at night is terrible. Repulsive bumps that secrete white fluid that smears everything, it's barely possible to read between the lines, but a quick glance is enough to understand - something big is about to happen. The traffic volume jumped at night by thousands of percent, the supreme nothingness itself is sending feverish messages to angels around the clock, and for the first time we see an unusual message whose source is behind the curtain. My other hand hovers over it trembling, but you need to press to enter inside to the content and I'm afraid to touch with it too, because these stains - it's leprosy. And my wife asks: What are you doing for so long with the computer in the bathroom. Why are you secluding yourself from me? What are you writing there?

But in the morning she smiles at me: How you caressed me at night, what you did, it was amazing. But, but I didn't touch her! And they call me to the police. They ask for a fingerprint. An old woman wrapped in head coverings, wrinkled like a note in the Western Wall, that I wouldn't touch even with a stick, claims I touched her. And the policeman snickers, and they barely agree to wait with the finger until they remove the bandage. And I feel that my wife is dressing more and more modestly, even more than me. You can hardly see anything of her anymore. People from the community distance themselves from me, and my wife also hides from me, ashamed, and I see something white at the edge of the dress. And I go to check in the shower, and even under the paper you can't see anything anymore, everything is white. A new blank page has opened. And I hear my wife crying and running to the bathroom, and a horrifying thought crosses my mind - no! What a terrible mistake - I left my computer open on the bed. And I run and ask her behind the door: Why are you suddenly crying? And she doesn't answer. And I try to open and the door is locked, and I ask: What happened? And she answers: Nothing, nothing.

A Pair of Doves

I dreamed that when they came to consult with him he would ask do you believe in cockroaches? Because if you don't believe in cockroaches, how will you believe in God? Like how his wife looks for dirt and calls it cleaning. When you look for dirt you find it. This is true in politics and true in relationships and true in life. After all, it's a complete lie. After all, the ants should have been the woman's good friends. Like an army of good dwarves that come at night and help and clean the house. And his wife kills them with such cruelty, that you can't watch it. Because after all he loved her so much, that he couldn't feel it. And on Shabbat it was the peak. He would pound on the table: You think food fills the stomach? It fills the soul. At the third meal he almost exploded and liquids came out of him in an outpouring of the soul. While his wife would sit on the side and read in a book: How to Eat Like a Jewess and Look Like a Shiksa.

One night a woman who had cancer came to him. She was his mother. He told her that she had a pair of doves on the balcony upstairs, that made a mess and noise and lice in the laundry and she took their nest with the eggs and threw it away, and the doves left. And after a year the same pair returned to the same place and again built the nest. And she broke their eggs and threw everything away, and they left. And in the third year, again the same thing, the whole story. And in the fourth year again, and another year and another year. And in the seventh they returned and built and incubated. And again she threw away the nest with the eggs. But the doves didn't leave. They stayed there, and looked for the nest even though it wasn't there, and circled endlessly where the nest had been and cried and cooed and cried, it was impossible to listen to it. The next year they didn't return anymore. After that the woman died from the cancer.

Alien Lives

I dreamed that such a feminine species of aliens arrives, that they are so full of emotion, that our woman is in relation of man to woman to their man. And indeed there are many mixed couples, and my wife leaves me for an underwater alien, a kind of fish smarter than me and greater in Torah, that not only his head but all of him swims inside a shtreimel. Even the tail. And they perform a divorce ceremony also according to their Judaism, so that she can marry: One last time in the seclusion room. And then she's in a black dress, and I remove her ring and cover her with a veil, and everyone vomits on the tables: Last course, second course, first course. And finally the hardest part: A final personal farewell at the entrance in front of everyone, the parents from both sides, saying goodbye to the dear guests and returning the checks. That's it, going back to living like strangers. And hop - my wife jumps into the water.

And I marry an alien woman, and she's like a banana. And she tells me: The order is first the peel and then the fruit, unless you're a worm, in which case the order is first the fruit of the tree and then the peel. And then you can eat from the inside, without picking, without peeling, without being seen, and without getting caught. That's how we tricked God in the sin of knowledge: To eat the fruit and leave it whole. And she asks: How is it for you when you unite, can you be a worm? And she cries for no reason. And I tell her: Don't cry, my wife is moving to live under the sea. With a non-kosher alien.
- Of course he's kosher, he has fins and scales. How I miss... Would you be willing to leave this planet for me?
And I suddenly jump: It's all a lie! The Earth is flat. It's written that God stretches out the heavens - and if it was a sphere then it would be impossible to stretch the firmament, if you stretched the heavens would simply contract and fall on the ground.
- But you can circle this planet in flight, no?
- That's an illusion. There are more and more peoples, lands, but identical to those here. Some person exactly like you. And someone exactly like your wife. And yet there are tiny changes that you barely feel when you return from afar, you feel that something has changed, and don't know what. And I set out on a journey to prove it to her, traveling again and again "around the world", as if I'm circling it, but actually I'm getting farther and farther away. And I start talking to the people here, and discover there are no aliens at all, they haven't heard of them. How did I not think of this before? After all, they only landed in one place from the sky! And I come to my wife at night: Would you ever leave me for an alien? And she looks at me with a strange expression. Aliens? - she laughs - There's no such thing. I love you.

The Internet Virgin

I dreamed that water and thoughts flow together. And I think that the water bill means it's forbidden to think in the shower, and I think about this in the shower, and come out. The inner flow stops - and everything is flushed into the sewage. She's waiting for me outside ready. Naked. And I suddenly peek at the computer. And she opens her mouth: If you could you would marry the internet and not me.
- You see, how can I answer such nonsense? I can't marry the internet.
- You see, if you could you would marry it.
She cries. God what am I being accused of.
- Sweetie you know what? The internet wouldn't want to marry me.
- Yes but you - want her.
She goes into the shower and turns on the water, and the line of thought continues (The internet? She won't marry less than God, and won't compromise on anyone else. And therefore in the end she'll still get the devil. Since she was born she hasn't stopped undressing - and we still don't see her end, legs that never end. She attracts like I don't know what. And yearns. Yearnssss. The devil knows why. So it will end in an explosion. Or in a new Sabbath...).
- What are you mumbling out there?
- Never mind, I love you like a tail (and now the internet cries. What's wrong with you? The mouse will still come back to you with its tail between its legs. But I can't manage to move. Stuck in place. And only now do I see the spider at the edge of the web. And it's advancing. Getting closer. Bug, head, computer. Legs legs legs).
- (Come to bed).
- Good night, sweetie.
- Sweet dreams, honey.

(In Parentheses)

(I dreamed that I can't stop thinking about it. Not to forgive her or not to forgive yourself? And the hardest question - did you make the right mistake? Because especially if you erred in the mistake, there's no forgiveness for that. A mouse like you knows the feeeeling, when when when they disconnect you from the computer, it's the end of every thought. God, why did you create man without a tail? I'm really surprised that the book of Genesis neglects the religious engagement with this question. You know what everyone said afterwards? It doesn't suit him. No one said: It doesn't suit her. The hardest thing is to deal with someone you never knew. Where were you then, scoundrel? I must stop thinking about this, otherwise it will ruin my married life.)

Dream Fulfillment

I dreamed that the spider says: You've dreamed about this all your life. For years no one wanted to talk to you. Who would have believed you wouldn't have the strength to talk to a girl? This girl is your wife. And the internet says: What man hasn't this happened to? You worked for seven years, at night you marry Rachel, and in the morning you discover it's Leah. And the shtreimel says: You tried to grab the braid, you were left with the wig. This is the result of two different species. Hair without a head - and head without hair. It's time for the third species of man. Eve, we need another rib for the triangle. When you wake up you'll discover something new. And I say: That's all we need. And pray: Come return the woman to her place - I'm willing even without anesthesia.

To Tell?

I dreamed that Delilah says: Here are the scissors and here is the policeman. If you don't tell, I won't tell.
And Samson says: Cut my hair for your wigs, and take out my eyes with your friends. I don't want to see girls anymore, marry them if they choose. Invite the whole family to the event, and just let me lean on the walls.

You Lost This War When You Got Married - So At Least Lose Like a Man

I dreamed that in the morning she asks how did you sleep sweetie what did you dream? And at night I tell her in the synagogue, from the other side of the partition: You were simply the first one who smiled at me. The breaking of the breaking is harder than the breaking.

A Regular Column That Deals With the Shtreimel From Every Possible Angle

I dreamed that I'm founding a huge ultra-Orthodox startup called Kugel. And what we do is a network whose connections are rounded, so that it will be impossible to find anyone. Everything is crooked, bent, twisted, escaping in a curve, spiraling into itself. And then a fat and round ultra-Orthodox man comes and claims: You have a bug in your algorithm. You forgot that there's also a center to the circle, and even when everything is spinning in a frenzy it still doesn't move - there must be a point of rest. And I start looking for this center, this point that ruins everything. It has to be through such a straight connection, that I love someone. My wife asks if I love her. And I answer yes. There's nothing worse than lying to that question. I try to remember when it started. Why did I lie in the first place? But I can't remember. There's some point like that in my brain. That I can only circle around it and never touch it.