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The Dybbuk Box

GhostsDybbuks are thought to be malevolent spirits that haunt the bodies of the living and make them crazy. For some this is a total superstition but for others .... who knows? Using this fear in some people, some entrepreneur created what he called "A Dybbuk Box" ostensibly holding the aura of one of these spirits. And there begins the tale .......

 

Finally, the truth behind the 'haunted' Dybbuk Box can be revealed
By Charles Moss for Input

In Jewish folklore, a “dybbuk” is a trouble-making spirit that possesses the living. An old cabinet that came to be known as the Dybbuk Box was bought by Kevin Mannis in 2001. Eventually, the “cursed cabinet” spooked more than a few people and sparked the inspiration for a Hollywood film. Charles Moss has the old cabinet’s origin story, from the man who sold it on eBay in 2003.

Here is more from an article in Input Magazine

 


Word of the Day - Pishogue

I like to improve my vocabulary with interesting words for this blog. The latest is

pishogue

PRONUNCIATION:
(pi-SHOHG)

 

MEANING:
noun: Sorcery; witchcraft; spell.

 

ETYMOLOGY:
From Irish piseog (witchcraft). Earliest documented use: 1829.

 

USAGE:
“You have totally glamoured me with your pishogue.”
N.E. Tovell; Tides of the Undead; iUniverse; 2011.
 
 
Thank  you Word A Day by Anu Garg

Makeshift Subway Shrine to Mercury

Subway-shrine-nyc-untapped-new-york1Mercury, the planet of communication is also one for travelers. Now during the pandemic, a shrine to Mercury has been spotted in Brooklyn in a subway station. Let's hope this helps us get to our destimations safely and on time.

Untapped City reports -

When you are running late and waiting for the subway, you may find yourself praying for it to arrive quickly. Well, it looks like one subway rider has taken their plea for timely service to the next level by creating a cardboard subway shrine. This makeshift ode to the god Mercury was spotted by straphanger Russel Jacobs in the Utica Avenue A/C stop in Brooklyn.

 


Halloweek Experiences Programs

HalloweekAtlas Obscura is offering virtual Halloweek Experiences. Here is their listing:

Join us for a virtual Halloweek—a full five days of otherworldly online experiences that you can Zoom into live, or watch later, with the lights on. Celebrate Victorian Hallowe’en with Nina Nightingale, embark on some scary spelunking with Tyler Thrasher, and talk tomb-raids and stolen bones with Erin Thompson and Kylie Holloway. Get your tickets now; it’s possible they may, at any moment, disappear into the night.

With the human world possibly more chilling than the spirit realm, Halloween festivities will likely look a little different this year. But for those with an affection for the mysterious and the morbid, a soft spot for seances, or a passion for the paranormal: we’re here to get you into the SPIRIT of the safe, socially-distanced season!

Beginning next Monday, join us for a virtual Halloweek—a full five days of otherworldly online experiences that you can Zoom into live, or watch later, with the lights on. Celebrate Victorian Hallowe’en with Nina Nightingale, embark on some scary spelunking with Tyler Thrasher, and talk tomb-raids and stolen bones with Erin Thompson and Kylie Holloway. Get your tickets now; it’s possible they may, at any moment, disappear into the night.

ONline Experience

A Victorian Hallowe’en

Wed, Oct 28 | $10 per device

Nina Nightingale's Charm School is in session, and for this Halloweek edition, we’ll be exploring Victorian Halloween, where you’ll learn how to create your very own divination mirror as well as mock Daguerreotypes, using household and recycled items.

 

Monster of the Month

Mon, Oct 26 | $12 per device
What's hiding in those woods? Is there something under your bed? Join author Colin Dickey for Monster of the Month, a new online show where we'll explore various cryptids, ghosts, and other creatures that lurk just below the surface of polite debate.

 

 

And many more - check the link above.


Spirit Homes in Thailand

 Hannah Beech writes for the New York Times about Thailand's spirit homes:

IMG_5277In Every Corner of Bangkok, Spirits Need a Home and Maybe a Strawberry Fanta

BANGKOK — These spirits were not wearing face masks. They appeared well fed, untroubled by the hunger pangs that have afflicted some Thais during the lean times of a pandemic.

But despite the spirits being so coddled — or perhaps because of it — the spiritual adviser accompanying them looked nervous.

These spirits, or at least the pair of figurines representing them, were too tubby to fit through the door to their new spirit house at the Baan Pitak condominium in Bangkok.

For the next hour or so, incense and incantations swirled. A gong pierced the steamy air of Bangkok.

Then, holding his breath just a little, Kitsana Phattharasirisap, the spiritual adviser, rose to his tiptoes and nudged the statues through the intricately carved entry to their new abode. Magically, they fit. A diet of prayers had slimmed them down in under 60 minutes, he said.

“If you don’t believe,” Mr. Kitsana said, “then it won’t work.”

Many Thais do believe in such spirits, and Mr. Kitsana, 47, thinks this may help explain why the coronavirus pandemic has so far largely bypassed the country. Thailand, a nation of 70 million people, has recorded only about 3,130 cases of the virus, with 58 deaths, despite having had the first confirmed case outside of China.

“Thai people respect ghosts and spirits,” he said. “Every day we pray and, you will notice, our country has not had many cases of coronavirus. The spirits listen to our prayers.”

In every crowded corner of Bangkok, whether by a tin-roofed shack, a glass-plated skyscraper or a marble-pillared government hall, there are said to be spirits who need placating. A coronavirus lockdown is no excuse.

The spirits also require spirit houses, which look like dollhouses mounted on pedestals. These range from a few pieces of plywood hammered together to create a miniature bungalow to gilded structures with ornate spires that cost tens of thousands of dollars. The figurines, sized to live inside, typically fit easily in the palm of a hand.

Spirit houses are common throughout Thailand, Myanmar and Cambodia, although the architecture differs by country. While not everyone believes, the practice is widely respected and the houses are an ordinary and integrated part of Bangkok’s cityscape, like church spires in an American town.

All these spirits expect sustenance, like a bunch of bananas, a cooling coconut or a mound of sticky rice. The offerings are usually placed at the front of the spirit houses in the morning by homeowners or building staff members, along with incense and garlands of marigolds and jasmine. Ants or rats may raid in the afternoon.

The spirits are not unreasonable, said Nongrak Puwasawadi, a self-employed spirit communicator, who enters a trance and advises people on the spirits’ druthers. In times of economic crisis, they will scale back their expectations.

“Like now, with the coronavirus, they will be happy with a glass of water for refreshment,” said Ms. Nongrak, 75. “But if it’s a more fortunate time, Kuman Thong would like a remote-controlled car.”

Kuman Thong, a young boy with a topknot and pantaloons, is one of the more popular spirits. Today, he is represented in spirit houses and on family altars by plastic dolls with cherubic features.

In an earlier era, his worship used to involve the preservation of stillborn babies with layers of lacquer. The practice of using fetuses in rituals has been outlawed but has still been seen in recent years.

Like many spirits, Kuman Thong favors certain brands, and he is especially fond of strawberry Fanta, according to Ms. Nongrak.

“Red is a nicer color than the brown of Pepsi,” she said.

In their houses, many spirit figurines come with entourages of servants, dancers and bestiary. There are the elephants and tigers that are native to Thailand, but also zebras. No one seems to know for certain why zebras, although some theorize it has to do with the safety associated with zebra-striped pedestrian crossings.

There are spirits that organize other spirits, and there are spirits that are standoffish. There are spirits that are evil, and it’s worth ensuring that the good spirits are on your side.

Some spirits live in trees, and the mightiest ficus trees are wrapped in multicolored sashes, with incense and sweetmeats placed among the roots.

The cosmology of spirits in Thailand — a Buddhist-majority nation with crosscurrents of Hinduism, Chinese ancestor worship and animism — is vast. Some spirits are family forebears. Others are demigods in the Hindu pantheon. Still others come with the land and stay on the land.

And this shared occupancy is something that developers and homeowners must contend with each time they build on the land.

It was early this year, as construction progressed, when the spirits of the Baan Pitak condominium made their unhappiness known. The former owners of the land — the human ones, that is — had built spirit houses. But they were, frankly, a bit plain. And they faced in the wrong direction.

The construction workers, who were living on-site, began receiving nightly visitations, they said. Two of them got sick and were convinced the spirits were to blame. The workers talked to the forewoman, the forewoman talked to the building manager, and the building manager talked to the landowners.

“I don’t believe in this stuff but my wife does,” said Pitak Nopprapun, who owns the land with his wife. “I listen to my wife.”

The $1,100 ceremony to sanctify the new spirit houses took place on a particularly sticky day in late May. Most everyone was dressed in white, even the spirits, although one spirit overlord figurine was decked out in gold, clutching his usual sword and pouch of money.

The spread laid out for the spirits, to ease their transition from one set of houses to the others, was sumptuous: papayas, bananas, tangerines, pineapples, watermelons, mangoes, coconuts, corn, taro, sweet potatoes, rose apples and, at the center of it all, a pair of pig faces.

After the ceremony, the pigs’ faces were given to the construction workers to eat, minus a chunk of one ear, which was sliced for an offering.

“I believe in science,” said Nutthikan Bunthanalaksamee, 29, the building manager, who was recording the ceremony with her cellphone. “But I respect people who have their beliefs.”

Mr. Kitsana, the master of ceremonies, is a one-stop spirit shop. In addition to communing with the spirits, he sells spirit real estate. His priciest cement spirit houses cost more than $12,200 in a country where the average yearly income is about $8,000.

After the ceremony, the pigs’ faces were given to the construction workers to eat, minus a chunk of one ear, which was sliced for an offering.

“I believe in science,” said Nutthikan Bunthanalaksamee, 29, the building manager, who was recording the ceremony with her cellphone. “But I respect people who have their beliefs.”

Mr. Kitsana, the master of ceremonies, is a one-stop spirit shop. In addition to communing with the spirits, he sells spirit real estate. His priciest cement spirit houses cost more than $12,200 in a country where the average yearly income is about $8,000.

“Young people have forgotten about the spirits but maybe with the coronavirus they will slow down and worship more often,” he said.

Their obsession with social media, all that careful tending of virtual spaces, he said, came at the expense of nurturing the spiritual realm.

“If you take care of the spirits,” Mr. Puvisit said, “they will take care of you.”