Random Memory

My Mood:   — Still Sleepy

Which is pretty bad, considering it’s twelve thirty.  Okay, twenty, but still.  Anyway, I was reading over one diary that talked about Sylvia Browne and different psychic things, etc.  For those of you who don’t know my views on it, here they are.

Sylvia Browne: fake.  Simple as that.  I’ve heard the “predictions” she makes on one of those Montel Williams shows.  A whole bunch of audience members asked her questions about their family members who have passed on and the like.  Such as, “Is my father who died just recently with my mother, who died years ago, in Heaven?”  I mean, seriously, what’s this supposed psychic supposed to say?  “No, actually, neither of them are in Heaven, they’re both in Hell.”  Yeah.  Right.  There’s closure for a person.  Finding out that their relatives are being tortured for all eternity.  Or whatever said person’s belief of Hell is.  So of course she’s going to say that yes, they’re together and happy and blah, blah, blah.

Then she had given her “prediction” for something to do with a breakthrough on the technology of how to fight AIDS.  They showed a clip from a show about a year ago with her saying that ‘within the next year, this kind of breakthrough will happen.’  Frankly, I call that bull because to keep up with and ‘make predictions’ on stuff like taht, all you have to do is keep up with the research being done against AIDS.  And she’s certainly in a position of fame to keep up with themost current information.  Therefore, it’s not hard to make a ‘prediction’ on what they’ll uncover next.

Psychics in general just . . . I don’t know.  I do believe, or at least I wonder, if there’s some kind of extrsensory part of the brain that a lot of people just aren’t in tune with.  I’ve had odd happenings to me.  Just little things, I’ll admit.  Like, there are times whe I’ll be thinking about a certain Simpsons episode, wishing I could see it, and when I trun the TV on to check out which episode it is, it’s the one I was thinking of.

Then there was the time at the dollar store where Karl decided to get a gum ball, and randomly I said, “I bet you’ll get a red one.”  Sure enough and red one comes out.  He got another one and in my head, I could see a choice between green and white.  I went with green.  And same thing.  A green one came out.

I suppose there’s also one definite thing that has me saying, “No way, this can;t really exist,” though.  If Sylvia Browne or any other “psychic” for that matter, were truly psychic, then why haven’t they predicted all six numbers correctly for the lottery?  If not for themselves, then for someone else.  And nobody better give me the excuse of, “Well, it’s not something you can do on a whim.”  Sylvia, palm readers, people who set up those psychic shops and trot card readings and whatnot, they all do it on a whim.  So why not do it for something where there’s actual proof that they did predict these things?

I mean, palm readers and those walk-in psychics, they give vague predictions.  “Oh, I see this side of your family has a history of some kind of disease.”  I mean, I could do that.  Show me anyone in the world, guaranteed, they’ve known someone either within their family, or a friend of it, who has died of such and such disease.  So all I’d have to do is say something like, “A disease at one point, ravaged through someone dear to you.”  Or something like that.

No, I don’t really believe in psychics or whatever.  Ghosts, there’s something entirely different.  Cuz I have one story that’s just plain freaky.  I don’t entirely believe it was a ghost to this day, but I know I didn’t do it, and I know that Dda and I were the only ones home, and therefore, if it wasn’t one of the two of us . . .

Anyway, we’d been watching a movie back at some point late freshman year.  I got p to go to the bathroom while he was sitting there doing work.  When I came back downstairs, the TV was off and as I went to sit down on the couch, I noticed something written in the dust on the TV.  I believe it simply said, “PAUL.”  Well, I immediately pointed it out to Dad, who in turn immediately fingered me as the culprit.  But I hadn’t done it.  I still insist it must have been him, but he claims to this day that he didn’t touch the TV.  No one else had been in the house that day, my cousin couldn’t spell/write yet, and the cats can’t write.  So who put it on the TV?

I don’t know.  I do believe in a lot of things, but a lot of things also seem far-fetched to me.  I think a great deal of psychics are fake, but I can’t deny the odd things that have happened to me.