Sunday, August 29, 2010

Asher Herson’s & Moshe's Herson's Personal Chabad: Up to Their Old Tricks

I hate to give this subject more space than it deserves but I ran into an observant Jew today who has lived in White Meadow Lake for only a few years. My celebrated distancing from his “rabbis” Asher Herson, son of Moshe Herson (pictured), and their lucrative, spiritual Ponzi scheme (a.k.a., The Chabad Center of Northwest New Jersey) pre-date this fellow’s arrival to the neighborhood by a good many years, but apparently he’d heard my name whispered in one of their multi-million-dollar buildings, so he approached me.

This neighbor, a baal tshuvah, described how uterly cheated he and his wife feel after just several years of association with Herson’s Chabad; how his davening alone had been grossly diminished by their shenanigans (his word, not mine, though I’m fond of it myself, especially when the shoe fits). I learned that Herson benefactor Mort Kwestel, that piece of animated offal--the shvantz wagging the dog--was no longer around much, but how other ignorant ninnies still fill Herson’s coffers and pay his mortgages as he peddles his peculiar brand of feel-good conservadoxism (my word, not his, though my neighbor clearly assimilated its meaning) claiming to "change lives".

All of this is to say that, as the High Holidays approach, I couldn’t be happier to have had nothing but nothing to do with the Herson family’s business-masquerading-as-religion, and to have remained untarnished by it for so many years now that I’d need to re-read my own ancient account of that sad and silly place to refresh my memory, if indeed that were my desire. Which, thank G-d, it isn’t.

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