The New York Philharmonic’s Visit To Pyongyang

While we had decided to post nothing about this event as we’ve no strong feelings about it one way or the other, I suppose we really ought to say something just for the record’s sake. And that something is best expressed by the following old Jewish joke.

Moishe is dead. Friends and family gather for the funeral service before the burial. The rabbi mounts the pulpit to deliver the eulogy and intone all the appropriate prayers. Poor, dead Moishe is in his coffin just below at the foot of the pulpit.

Somberly, the rabbi begins by reciting the life of Moishe to the assembled mourners, replete with expressions of sorrow at the good man's passing. There's not a dry eye in the packed house.

Suddenly, from the rear of the funeral chapel, up jumps a man, and in a voice raucous and insistent, declares loudly, "Give Moishe some chicken soup!"

Shocked, everyone turns to see what lunatic has been let loose among them. The rabbi, momentarily nonplussed, quickly regains himself, decides the best course of action is to ignore the meshugener, and almost without missing a beat, continues with the eulogy.

"Give Moishe some chicken soup!" the wretch again cries out.

Once more, the mourners turn, and once more the rabbi decides to ignore the rude outburst and continue with the eulogy.

After a minute, again, but even more urgently, "Give Moishe some chicken soup!"

The rabbi, thinking that perhaps the man has gone demented with grief, decides this time to address him directly and sternly. "Poor Moishe is dead. What good will chicken soup do him now?"

"Couldn't hurt," replies the man.