Tuesday, January 30, 2007
Idiocracy- I put this on the ol' Netflix queue at Melinda's suggestion, and am so glad I did. I LOVED this movie! For those not familiar with the premise... A regular guy (played by Luke "I am not Owen" Wilson) gets frozen for 500 years as part of an army experiment. The world he wakes up to is one that reflects a disturbing trend in our society: the stupid folks are out-breeding the smart folks. The result after 500 years of this is a world in ruin. Think of an entire distopian big-brother society being run by Beavis and Butthead, and you begin to get the idea. Filled with great sight gags, and the dry yet crude humor of Mike Judge (Office Space, King of the Hill), this movie was frakin awsome. Go rent it and tell me what y'all think.
Legally Blonde 2-Red, White, and Blonde- I was looking forward to this movie way more than I should have been, I think. I know it totally blows the whole macho image thing, but I realy enjoyed the first movie, and thought I would give the second one a try. I am so sorry I did... while Reese Witherspoon was great in the first movie as the girly, idealistic Elle Woods, in this one, her character was so over the top as to be embarrassing. Take my word for this and give it a pass, otherwise you'll just encourage them to make another.
Monday, January 29, 2007
"On the one hand, for people who love Star Trek, the fix that they will get will be really satisfying,'' Abrams said. ''For people who've never seen it or know it vaguely, I think they will enjoy it equally, because the movie does not require you to know anything about Star Trek. I would actually prefer [that] people don't know the series, because I feel like they will come to it with an open mind.''
So, the writer of the only Star Trek that will be available in the forseeable future would prefer that people are completely ignorant of Star Trek. In short, not fans.
I held my tounge when they picked the writer of that god-awful disaster movie wanna-be Armeggeddon for this project. I overlooked that he had also written the syrupy shmaltz that became Forever Young, the only "cryogenic defrostee" movie that threatened to put it's audience to sleep. I could even get past the fact that he was a major writer for the ever-so-confusing Lost. Why? Because he also wrote a chunk of Alias, which obviously had a huge respect for it's fan following.
I smell another "Superman Returns".
Have you ever danced under the stars?One of the most romantic moments I have ever had was slow dancing in a field in city park with the Ex-wife to the music playing out of the speakers of the caddy.
Have you ever listened in on a private conversation?I am ashamed to admit that I do this all the time, particularly in restaurants. I do it to add color to dialogue in my writing. It still amazes me how intimate people will get in conversation in a public place, relying only on the “none of my business” barrier to keep people from listening.
Have you ever splurged on something you normally wouldn't purchase? What was it?Not really… I don’t believe in denying my baser instincts when it comes to purchases. If I want something badly enough to buy it, I just go ahead and do so without the “but I shouldn’t” guilt. It’s my freakin money, after all… I’ll spend it as I see fit. It was interesting when I would see the Ex struggle about whether or not to buy shoes, or a purse, when I would have just bought the silly things ten minutes ago and moved on.
Culled from Curious as a Cat:
If you could witness one supernatural event--whether you believe in the supernatural or not--what would it be? Why? This is tough, as I’ve already seen ghosts, ESP, and precognition in action... Hmmm… I guess would want to see definitive proof of the existence of an afterlife. One of my biggest fears is ny own existence ceasing.
What is your earliest memory? Why do you think you have remembered that particular event or thing? A picnic when I was around 3. I’m not sure why I remember it… maybe because I still remember my Mom being so happy to do it… but I recall vividly the red cups and plastic red-and white checkerboard plates Mom broke out for the occasion.
Pick a friend or acquaintance with whom you think you would like to start a new business venture. What business? Why that person? Okay… to be fair, there are a few of my friends that I would start a business with given the opportunity. The top two however, are tied. I think it would be just as much fun to start a comic book/media production company with Dave as it would be to start a Pizza place with Drew. Would that I could combine the two somehow… "Big Kahunah Comics: Free slice with every issue!"
Friday, January 26, 2007
I should be so lucky....
Tuesday, January 23, 2007
Now, watch carefully as.... nothin up my sleeve... PRESTO!
David Copperfield, eat your heart out.
For those who wonder about such things, the original picture is the bottom photo, which I took. Bossman Barry took a second photo of me leaning on the truck, and I 'shopped em together almost seamlessly... no wonder that the Inquirer wants something more substantial than photographic proof these days...
Monday, January 22, 2007
This may come as a surprise to many of you, but when I write for my blog, I generally don't think I'm very funny... It's not that I'm not trying to make a well thought out joke or two, it's just that I usually think I fall short of that magical little mark that will actually make someone laugh.
So, it came as a bit of a shock that many of my posts made me laugh out loud. In recognition of this, I've decided I'll pull a few links previous posts every so often. Enjoy!
What are you doing here?
Driving to a friends house
More about my love life... you wish.
To My Female Friends...
Letter to Rob, age 20.
Thousands of letters, all to Santa Claus (yeah, right)
The Generation gap gets wider
Life is short
| My Peculiar Aristocratic Title is:|
Lord Robert the Villainous of Pigotts Guilded Sty
Get your Peculiar Aristocratic Title
And now, a more traditional Meme:
WHAT WAS THE LAST THING YOU ATE?:
|Odd Facts about ME|
|DO YOU SNORE?:||Yep.|
|LOVER OR A FIGHTER?:||Both... usually not simultaniously.|
|WHAT'S YOUR WORST FEAR?:||Death and Horses|
|AS A KID, WERE YOU A LEGO BUILDER?:||Huge cities on the floor of my room that my mom would complain about.|
|WHAT DO YOU THINK OF "REALITY TV"?:||"The Girls next Goor"is a guily pleasure|
|DO YOU CHEW ON YOUR STRAWS?:||only after I've finished drinking through it.|
|WERE YOU A CUTE BABY?:||Nope... I was all bug-eyed and stupid lookin.|
|HOW IS THE SINGLE LIFE FOR YOU?:||So far so good. Still a far cry from "played all kinds of palaces, Laid all kinds of girls..."|
|WHAT COLOR IS YOUR KEYBOARD?:||dusty black... emphasis on the 'dusty' part.|
|DO YOU SING IN THE SHOWER?:||As often as I can.|
|HAVE YOU EVER BUNGEE JUMPED?:||Something a Fat guy should never do, sorry.|
|ANY SECRET TALENTS?:||If I told you they wouldn't be secret, now would they?|
|WHAT'S YOUR IDEAL VACATION SPOT?:||A warm beach.|
|HAVE YOU EATEN SUSHI?:||Yep.|
|HAVE YOU SEEN THE MOVIE "DONNIE DARKO"?:||Nope.|
|DO YOU GIVE A DARN ABOUT THE OZONE?:||Are we talking the layer or that special part of a woman that makes her hit the ceiling?|
|HOW MANY LICKS DOES IT TAKE TO GET TO THE CENTER OF A TOOTSIE POP?:||According to Mr Owl, Three!|
|CAN YOU SING THE ALPHABET BACKWARDS?:||Actually, I can! Wait... That was a hidden talent! Now I have to kill you.|
|HAVE YOU EVER BEEN ON AN AIRPLANE?:||I prefer to ride in them than on them, thank you.|
|ARE SPEEDO'S HOT?:||No in every way I can say no to that question.|
|WHAT'S YOUR STAND ON HUNTING?:||Pretty simple... legs apart, with a gun in each hand.|
|IS MARRIAGE IN YOUR FUTURE?:||Not if I still have sufficent reflexes to dodge it.|
|DO YOU LIKE YOUR HANDWRITING?:||Yes... it's spunky.|
|WHAT ARE YOU ALLERGIC TO?:||Buncha nuts and fruits and grasses.|
|WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU SAID, "I LOVE YOU":||A very long time ago.|
|IS TUPAC STILL ALIVE?:||Sure... He has a timeshare with Elvis and JFK.|
|DO YOU CRY AT WEDDINGS?:||Not if I can help it.|
|HOW DO YOU LIKE YOUR EGGS?:||Scrambled with katsup.|
|ARE BLONDES DUMB?:||No more so than a Golden Retriever....|
|WHERE DOES THE OTHER SOCK END UP?:||in a separate dimension that also has lost pens and keys.|
|WHAT TIME IS IT?:||Time is an illusion, so this question is meaningless.|
|DO YOU HAVE A NICKNAME?:||Several. The one I like the least is "uncle Tookie"|
|IS MCDONALD'S DISGUSTING?:||tastes like maksing tape to me.|
|WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU WERE IN A CAR?:||about four hours ago.|
|DO YOU PREFER BATHS OR SHOWERS?:||Showers.|
|IS SANTA CLAUSE REAL?:||Sure... Paragraph 42b, section A reads that "No Elf can join a union"|
|IS SANTA CLAUS REAL?:||Yep. Owns the timeshare next to Elvis et all...|
|ARE YOU AFRAID OF THE DARK?:||not unless the lights are off.|
|WHAT ARE YOU ADDICTED TO?:||freebased peanut butter cups.|
|HAVE YOU EVER RIDDEN IN AN AMBULANCE?:||Yep, but not because I was injured.|
|HOW MANY TIMES HAVE YOU BRUSHED YOUR TEETH TODAY?:||once.|
|IS DRUG FREE THE WAY TO BE?:||Only if reality is too trippy as it is...|
|ARE YOU WEARING SOCKS?:||Yes|
|WHEN'S THE LAST TIME YOU CRIED?:||three weeks ago. Please don't ask why.|
|DO YOU LIKE YOUR LIFE?:||So far.|
|WHOSE LIFE IS BETTER?:||Hmmm... I'll have to think about that.|
|ARE YOU PSYCHIC?:||Not that I'll admit to it.|
|HAVE YOU READ "CATCHER IN THE RYE"?:||Yes.|
|DO YOU PLAY ANY INSTRUMENTS?:||I do a mean bongo solo.|
|CAN YOU SKATEBOARD?:||No, unless you like to see me fall.|
|DO YOU LIKE CAMPING?:||Yes.|
|DO U SNORT WHEN U LAUGH?:||Sometimes.|
|DO YOU BELIEVE IN MAGIC?:||Any sufficently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic.|
|IS A DOG A MAN'S BEST FRIEND?:||Yep.|
|YOU BELIEVE IN DIVORCE?:||Yep.|
|CAN YOU DO THE MOONWALK?:||Yep.|
|a peanut butter cup.|
|DO YOU WEAR NAILPOLISH?:||No, cause I'm not Gay.|
|DO YOU LIKE SOMEONE RIGHT NOW?:||Yes.|
|WHAT'S THE MOST ANNOYING TV COMMERCIAL?:||the Chevy one with the divorced dad being dropped off by mom.|
|DO YOU SHOP AT AMERICAN EAGLE?:||No... they make nothing that would fit.|
|FAVORITE BAND AT THE MOMENT?:||Green Day|
Tag-a-roo, I'm lookin at you:
Dave, Stacey, Mel, and Drew.
(Poetry! another hidden talent! Crap!)
Wednesday, January 17, 2007
Here's what you do: Go to your music player of choice and put it on shuffle. Say the following questions aloud, and press play. Use the song title as the answer to the question. NO CHEATING.
How does the world see you? “American Pie”- Don McLean
Uh… so I’m long and full of metaphors?
Will I have a happy life? “Captain Jack”-Billy Joel
One of the most depressing songs ever. All about feeling alienated and alone. Not a good sign.
What do my friends really think of me? “Born in the
All about a loner that gets screwed up in
Do people secretly lust after me? A Ska version of “Time after Time”.
How can I make myself happy? “Rock-a-Hula”- Elvis Presley.
Lotsa hot chicks doing the hula, apparently.
What should I do with my life? “The Night they Drove Old
Will I ever have children? “Viva las Vegas”- Elvis again…
‘There's a thousand pretty women waitin' out there… And they're all livin' devil may care.. And I'm just the devil with love to spare.’ Hmm… guess not.
What is some good advice for me? “Wheel in the sky”- Journey
And it keeps on turning : )
How will I be remembered? “Faithful to me”-Jennifer Knapp.
I can live with that.
What is my signature dancing song? “Cuban Pete”- Desi Arnez.
Equally awesome. BOOM-chicki-boom, boom-CHICKI-boom, boom-chicki-BOOM.
What do I think is my current theme song? “Everyday People”-Sly and the Family Stone. Getting far more accurate here.
What does everyone think my current theme song is? “You Sexy Thing”- Hot Chocolate
What song will play at my funeral? “The Promised land”- Bruce Springsteen
Not what I would have picked, but I can live with it. Or die with it, as the case may be.
What type of women do you like? “Hot Patootie (Whatever happened to Saturday night)”- Meatloaf, from the Rocky Horror Picture Show.
All about Nailing hot, easy rock and roll chicks. It’s like they know me.
What is my day going to be like? “Like a prayer”-Madonna.
Uh-oh. Better wear clean unerwear today.
I TAG—lessee… Melinda, Ducky, Dreamwalker, and my Brother.
Now, I normally don’t make too much of a fuss about it, but I’m a big NFL fan. (for my overseas readers, that’s the National Football League. And when I say Football, I sure as heck don’t mean soccer… I mean the game where we inflate a pig to throw at people and then bang into each other like drunken goats) I’m not one of those guys who plops himself in front of the TV every Sunday and watches every single game throughout the season… but late in the season, something inside me just gets all twitterpaited with the excitement of the upcoming playoffs and Super Bowl. Most of my life, I have been a NY Giants fan (go Big Blue Wrecking Crew!) but second to them in my heart for the past 10 years have been the New Orleans Saints. For most of my time living in this city, the Saints have been the quintessential loveable losers… The nice guys who try real hard, but always seem to blow it in the end like in an old Abbott and Costello movie. In short, they were the “Rob” of professional sports without the raw animal charisma. As the end of the season approached this year I was amazed that the Saints hadn’t blown it, and like everyone else in the greater New Orleans area I found myself yelling “Who Dat?” far more enthusiastically than I had in years past.
Problem was, the Giants were looking pretty good too. I actually surprised myself when I breathed a sigh of relief when the Giants were eliminated. I wouldn’t have to root against the Saints… who in addition to playing some superior football, were giving my Katrina-battered Neighbors something happy to talk about.
I say all this so it will come through just how excited I was when Dave offered me the ticket to Saturday’s game. I was beside myself… I did a little victory dance at my desk at work. I let loose a primeval ‘Yaulp’. I giggled uncontrollably like a schoolgirl for hours. I called everyone I knew that I thought would care. Most were happy for me. Others scared their child by yelling “You suck!” into the phone. Loudly. Dizzy’s mom still won’t speak to the “Damn Yankee what thinks he’s a Saints fan.”
I did not care. I was going to the game. “Who’s going to the game?” I would say to myself in the mirror, giving myself a ‘thumbs up’… “this guy!”
I had remembered the hoopla surrounding the Giants’ season (1990) when they went to the Super Bowl, and figured I was prepared for what awaited me when Dave and I arrived at the Dome. I was wrong. The cab let us out almost a half mile from the stadium, because that was where the tailgating began. As we walked closer, the crowds became thicker, a sea of black and gold jerseys upon which we were afloat. Even before the game, we received more than one high-five from faithful Saints fans that were simply delighted that the team had made it this far. We got there about an hour before the doors opened, and strolled through the crowd, people watching while various bands took the stage set up outside, adding to the party atmosphere. Wherever we stopped to rest or just take in the view, some stranger would start chatting with us about how great the Saints have been this season, and how they’ve been coming to games since the franchise started, and how this was their year. The crowd swayed to the loud jazz music coming from the band as they stated playing “I believe/Saints go all the way”, and the party was suddenly in full swing.
Let me tell ya… no one knows how to party like
Dave would later insist throughout the game that the Duff guy needed to get up and dance or something.
There were also a few Eagles fans circulating in the crowd, followed incessantly by a chorus of “boos” and “hisses”, as well as some more colorful terms I won’t go into here. We were following one such fan around, laughing at the comments of our fellow Saints fans, when the doors next to us suddenly opened, and in we went. Our seats were in a suite (skybox), a new experience for both me and Dave. It was catered complete with food, beer and drinks, so we grabbed a brew and watched the Saints warm up as the Superdome slowly filled. A roving photographer took our picture, ans suddenly I felt like one of the 'beautiful people'. (A fact I would later scream loudly after I got more beer in me) The music was being piped in from the stage outside, and the Steve Miller band took the stage while Dave started pointing out which player was which. I am ashamed to admit that without their uniforms on, I didn’t have a clue.
Predictably, the Superdome filled. The music started. The national anthem played. The game was on. We soon found out that our suite was right next to Deuce McAllister’s family suite, and so we got to hear his family yell at the coach every time they took him out of the game. The game itself has been recounted by better sources than I, so I’ll just skip to the after game fun…
We followed the river of black and gold (a tributary of the sea, apparently) as it made its way down Poydras street (effectively closing the street to traffic) to the French Quarter to celebrate. Dave and I found ourselves suddenly among 10,000 of our closest friends, most of whom were drunk. Everyone that stopped to chat/hug/high-five/scream ‘who dat’ with us, I would say “So, you’re coming with us to
From the Dogs Of Atlantis Management: Rob has a picture of him and Dave (taken by the roving photographer in the skybox) with Reggie Bush in the background warming up on the field below, but the scanner at DOA headquarters has been on the fritz. We will see to it that it gets posted as soon as we can.
Tuesday, January 16, 2007
As if all those offers for "natural male enhancement" in my mailbox weren't enough, now I have to be on the lookout for scam artists posing as hitmen that want to kill me.
As I read the above linked article, the following thoughts occured to me:
1) If an actual hitman approached me with this offer, I would still be screwed as I don't have 100 grand under my mattress or anything. Most I could counter offer would be 50 bucks and a coupon for a free pitcher of beer at Hooters.
2) Those that would fall for this must be some pretty paranoid people... my first thought when confronted with this would be akin to "There is no one on this planet who would shell out 50 thou just to see me dead."
3) It would be very easy to insert a few generic locations or events to that e-mail to convince a complete stranger that you actually had them under survellence. (I.E.: "I saw you in Wal-mart a few weeks ago and you even bought my employer a gift, you cheapskate.", "you really need to cut down on the between meal snacking" or "I'm sure the folks at that coffee shop will miss you.") I wonder how the con artist missed that.
4) I think way too much like a criminal.
Monday, January 15, 2007
Tuesday, January 09, 2007
Dats right, mon... I'm from de island. Now pass the duchie on de left hand side.
All you whiney Manhattan residents: suck it up and deal with it, like you've been telling Staten Islanders to do all these years when we would complain not just about the smell of Jersey, but the smell of the Fresh Kills Landfill that you refused to allow us to close for so many years. After all, those refineries in New Jersey are a nessacary evil produced by the port that turned your city into one of the richest on the planet.
Or, at least that's the line you've been feeding me since I was in grade school. Now that it's the air on the upper east side making your eyes water, is it somehow different? All it takes is a shift in the damn wind and our problem is suddenly yours.
See, folks... stuff like this is why I moved. At least here in New Orleans, the classism and hypocracy is right out in the open where it can't sneak up on anyone, and people recognize that a neighborhood's problems can be everyone's problem if left unchecked.
So, Rob, how was your New Years Eve?
My New Years was fun, but I nearly wound up with pneumonia. I suppose that's what happens to a guy that has a bit of a sniffle who spends a large chunk of the evening loudly belittling his friend's neighbor's fireworks display. We would send up a mortar, they would send up a slightly inferior rocket... followed by me yelling "Is that the best you got? Alright boys, let’s show em how we do things downtown!" at which point my friends, (Dave and Bobby), would send up another round, followed by me screaming "Now thats what I'm talking about!" at the neighbors. Repeat this scene like 30 or 40 times, and keep in mind that I was out there wearing a t-shirt in damp, 40 degree weather (gotta love them Louisiana winters... high 70 degree days, but damp, cold nights)... I suppose it's no surprise that I spent the past week or so mostly in bed, coughing. :(
On the bright side, I had a chance to catch up on my movie watching… one of which is perfect to be reviewing today, on what would be Elvis’ 72nd birthday- BubbaHoTep.
I originally put this one on the Netflix queue because of its star, Bruce Campbell. He has a tendancy to gravitate toward offbeat projects that I appreciate. Usually, they resemble old school ‘b’ movies in both theme (“The Man with the Screaming Brain” being a great example) and more importantly, humor. BubbaHoTep is no exception. The film takes place in a
Monday, January 08, 2007
For those of you that don’t read the comments left on each post, you may have missed this absolute gem of a comment about my last post:
Robert, I am surprised at you!
Seeking a purely "scientific" explanation of "paranormal" phenomenon! I would have thought you had enough exposure to entities such as "Whitney", (for one) to consider ghosts more than random glimpses of a parallel universe... And how would you explain Cousin Edward?
Personally, I don't like the term "paranormal". Anything the human mind is capable of IS normal - no matter how profound or far from our societal "norms". To be "paranormal", or METAphysical, the event would have to be something of which the human mind is NOT capable. With the current state of the psychological arts in our society, I think we would have great difficulty determining whether any particular event is something of which the mind is not capable.
Ladies and gentlemen… to me, this comment is proof of something that I have been saying all along… my Mother reads my blog. I say this for two reasons… One, there is nothing paranormal about the way someone’s neck hair stands up when their parent uses their full first name; two, no one else would know the “Cousin Edward” story. While not particularly surprising that Mom reads this stuff, it may surprise many of you to find out that my Mom is one of the major driving forces behind my interest in the paranormal, as well as my open-mindedness on the subject.
Throughout my life, Mom has manifested signs of latent psychic ability. (Although she would probably take exception to the term ‘latent’) One of the most compelling proofs of this ability to me was the “Cousin Edward” story. When I was in my late teens, My Mom’s cousin Edward was going through a rough time… he had an inoperable brain tumor that doctors said was going to eventually kill him. Eddie was a trooper though, and hung in there for a very long time through chemotherapy, surgery and everything else the doctors tried. He was only a few years older than I was, and it was very tragic. When we got the phone call that he had lost the fight and passed away, I was the one who picked up the phone. My memory is a little fuzzy on this part, but I think it was my aunt telling me that Eddie had passed away. I went to give the phone to my Mom, telling her that she may want to sit down first. She looked me in the eye and said “Edward passed away, right?”. “Yeah.” I said, “How did you know?” “He came to visit me last night and told me.” Mom said, without batting an eye.
This definitely rated a 9 on the weird-shit-ometer. Even for Mom.
The “Whitney” story is something else entirely. Whitney was the name my Dad gave the ghost that we believed haunted our house, and some of the surrounding area. Whenever a set of keys went missing, but was found later somewhere that we had already looked, it was invariably blamed on “Whitney”. Mom actually saw a man in a three-corner hat standing in our backyard one afternoon, but when she looked again, the man had vanished. "Must be Whitney" we all agreed.
Yeah, Jay and I still joke that Mom is a “Weirdness Magnet”. Believe me, these tales are just the tip of the iceberg.
Buuuuut…. Knowing now what I didn’t know then, I would classify the “Cousin Edward” story as an example of Mom’s latent clairvoyance, not Ghosts. “Whitney” on the other hand was indeed a haunting… and fits pretty well with my quantum intrusion theory, thank you very much… particularly if one is to posit that these alternate quantum states have some level of physicality in our plane of existence. Missing keys aside, I have seen some evidence to support the idea that ghosts can manipulate physical objects.
Unlike Mom, I do like the term “Paranormal”. It means, (according to the dog-eared Webster’s Dictionary I keep by my computer) “Not explainable by current science”. I certainly prefer it to terms like “supernatural” or “metaphysical”, which tend to have more magical and spiritual connotations in the popular culture. I also believe that science can explain most things in the universe if science is willing to keep an open mind to that which it does not currently understand. The sciences devoted to discovering some of this more wondrous stuff are Parapsychology and Paraphysics. Most people think of these as “fringe” sciences, stuff best not discussed in serious scientific forums. But remember, the cryptozoologists that discovered the existence of the giant squid were once “fringe” guys as well.
Science’s view of the universe is constantly under revision, and it is through these revisions that great breakthroughs in how we see the universe are born. It may be closed-minded to think that someday science will explain many of the things we currently do not understand, but it’s just as closed-minded to believe that some things are impossible for us to understand.
Tuesday, January 02, 2007
Fact of the matter is, I have said very little here about the time I spent working as a Paranormal Researcher, even though it was probably the coolest job I will ever have. For those of you that don't know, I spent some time working for some folks that were doing an ongoing study of a haunted property here in New Orleans Pre-Katrina. It was something I don't talk about unless pressed to, and never here in fear of tainting the research we were doing by having people read about my experiences. Part of the research was to see what would happen when people who knew nothing about what we were doing were brought onto a haunted property for the first time, and coming across my blogs about it could have made people biased. ("Well, this must be where Rob said on his blog he saw that ghost so my imagination will start playing tricks on me at this point and... HOLY CRAP, IT'S A GHOST!") So understanding why (at the request of my boss) I should say nothing about stuff that happened to me, I kept my fool mouth shut.
I may have to start changing that... I'd desperately like to get involved with the paranormal stuff again and maybe do more research. I think a good way to start that would be to share a little of my personal beliefs and experiences on the subject, starting with crackpot theory #7...
The Truth about Ghosts.
First off, let me start by saying to all the skeptics out there that I am one of you. I looked at everything that happened to me with a disbelieving eye, and it generally took a lot before I would label something that happened to me as "Paranormal". Having said that, I would ask that anyone reading these pages do so with an open mind... I know that a lot of the 'proof' generally put forth about ghosts and like phenomena is very subjective, and difficult, if not impossible, to reproduce. For the purposes of this article though, I would ask that you take my word for it that my experiences were indeed valid and yet defied conventional explanation.
My experiences in the field have convinced me of this, if nothing else... Ghostly phenomena is real. Something is happening to the thousands of people that encounter ghosts every year that is beyond our current science to understand. I will also state unequivocally that nothing in my experience has convinced me that ghosts are the immortal souls of the dearly departed. The truly sad thing is that because this is generally the accepted notion, no one is offering an alternative explanation. Heck, Freud once said "As for ghosts, there is scarcely any other matter upon which our thoughts and feelings have changed so little since early times."
So, If ghosts aren't the spirits of the dead, then what are they? Well, first lets take into account what I know of them through my observation:
-Ghosts can manipulate electric and/or magnetic fields, as evidenced by magnetometer (emf reader) results.
-Ghosts can be seen, but not easily. There are many ghost pictures on the Internet, but few that truly defy explanation to a serious photographer. many of the "orb photos" I've seen are quite obviously dust. However, I have indeed seen one, and the shadow of another as it passed. this means that ghosts can, under the right circumstances, reflect light.
-Ghosts can have shapes, but this shape can vary. Many Observers report translucent human forms, others report mists. I have seen both.
Now, things within the realm of science that generally can accomplish all three of these tend to be sub-atomic particles, and (more importantly) fit into most current quantum theories. My theory is that on an unconscious level, we are sensitive to minute changes in sub atomic and quantum fluctuation, and perceive this phenomena as ghosts.
So, sometimes, what we're looking into with this sense is an alternate reality intruding upon our own, which is why we interact with "humans"... it's entirely possible that on the other side of the dimensional barrier, the "ghostly encounter" is perceived by whatever sentient life forms are there in an entirely different manner.
Of course, I have no idea how to go about testing this... I know just enough physics to be dangerous... if anyone out there has an idea about how to measure or prove this theory, let me know.
Okay, kids... time for some math:
My credit card (okay... debit card. I never said my credit rating was flawless.) measures 3.5 inches at its wide point... my house is approximately 35.16 miles from the gulf waters as the crow flies, (or in this case as the land slides) or 2,227,953.34 inches to the sparkling blue waters that separate me from Cuba.
2 times 3.5 equals 7
2,227,953.34 divided by 7 is 636,558.097.
In short, by the year 638,565 A.D., my apartment will be beachfront property, and New Orleans flooding problems will be a much deeper issue.
At least it gives me some time to figure out where I should evacuate to...