8 December—Chanukah or Hanukkah, the Jewish Festival of Lights that predates Christmas and Kwanzaa by light years (yes, it’s a brilliant pun, thank you), this year starts on the evening of Sunday, 18 December, and ends on the evening of Monday, 26 December. It’s celebrated by, among other things, lighting a candelabrum called a menorah, starting with two candles, adding one extra every night, and ending with nine on the last night.

That works out to 44 candles. Trust me. I can count. And it’s precisely how many candles are crammed into each of the boxes of Chanuka or Hanuka candles—made in Israel, of course—my father, who died in 1996, had been receiving at my PO box from Christ knows whom until a couple of years ago and have been languishing in a corner cupboard along with some menorahs and other novelties.

The most important aspect of Chanukah or Hanukkah or Chanuka or Hanuka is, of course, the tradition of giving gelt—Hebrew and Yiddish for money. Some skinflints who don’t care about children’s health, give the poor little Jewish princes and princesses foil-wrapped chocolate coins. That’s probably why, when you give a Jewish kid a real gold or silver coin, he, she, they, or it will bite it to see if it’s really chocolate.

But why am I disquisiting about Chanukah or Hanukkah or Chanuka or Hanuka ten full days before the holiday? Well, it seems the electric menorah that recently appeared outside the crumbling West Street Church of the Litchfield Chabad Lubavitcher Ganevim (Yiddish for grifters), across from Town Hall, has already been lit. All the candles, mind you. I saw it with my very own incredulous eyes when I stopped by Town Hall yesterday. And it’s still burning today. You can’t miss it. (No suggestions about what you can’t miss it with—from me, anyway.)

The hyperbolic miracle of Chanukah or Hanukkah or Chanuka or Hanuka is that one cruse (earthen vessel—jar to us) of oil, just enough to keep the menorah in the Temple going for a day, actually lasted for eight days. Far be it for me to downgrade a miracle to an early instance of sound ecological sustainability. There was also a military victory involved, but nobody talks about that. Probably because Jews don’t have to depend on miracles for military victories.

Presumably, the Ganef Momzer (grifter bastard, CEO of Chabad Lubavitch of Litchfield County Inc.) knows that electric menorahs consume electric power and that Eversource (on the subject of ganevim) likes to be paid for it. Oh, wait—the Ganef Momzer has a history of not worrying about paying anybody.

Since slithering into Litchfield in January 1996, the Chabad Ganef Momzer has inflicted more harm on the town and especially the borough of Litchfield than any other malignancy ever. And he and his confederates have done more to further antisemitism than Nick Fuentes and Kanye West put together. Sorry, Ye the asshole.

Adding insult to all the injury, Litchfield’s first selectwoman has, at the request and dictation of the Chabad Ganef Momzer, actually issued a proclamation about the unsustainable electric menorah:

The Menorah

WHEREAS: The menorah is one of the oldest symbols of the Jewish faith; and

WHEREAS: The symbolic branches of the menorah are used in rites during the eight-day festival of Hanukkah; and

WHEREAS: It commemorates the miracle that a day’s worth of oil lasted for eight days; and

WHEREAS: It has been a symbol of hope and “a light unto the nations” since ancient times.

NOW, THEREFORE, I, Denise Raap, First Selectman of the Town of Litchfield, do recognize December 18, 2022 as the beginning of Hanukkah and the symbolic menorah erected for all to see.

Dated this 15th day of November, 2022, in the Town of Litchfield.

Denise Raap

First Selectman

Denise should have done the right thing and told the Chabad Ganef Momzer where to go . . .