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Things That Go Blog in the Night
Jan. 20th, 2004 02:36 pmI've been reading a book for the last couple of months: _Ghost_ by Katherine Ramsland. One reason it's taking me so long to get through it is because, well, it's not much of a book. Just interesting enough to pick it up now and again to read a few more sections, but not so compelling that I'm ripping right through it. It purports to be "nonfiction," relaying how Ms. Ramsland got drawn into the world of ghost-hunting and her explorations of that world. That sounds like an interesting premise, right? Unfortunately, she manages to repeat the same information over and over without ever heading anywhere in particular. It wanders, meanders, drifts, wearing out plenty of shoe leather but never arriving at a destination. And she's always declaiming about wanting to keep her scientific objectivity--but there isn't a hell of a lot of objectivity in evidence. She hypes up the drama promising thunderous revelations...which never quite come off as advertised. Many times, though, there are moments of unintentional humor; instances when Ms. Ramsland comes off as something of a dim bulb with a Ph.D. It mystifies me how some books get into print.
So what's the point of all this besides sour grapes? Well, I have a confession to make. (Isn't that what blogs are for?) Another reason it's taking me so long to read this book is because I'm highly suggestible when it comes to this ghost cr!p. I can't read this book past late afternoon, when dusk starts gathering, because my imagination starts to do a hoodoo dance with me. I expect whangdoodles to slither out of the closet; haints to materialize from out of the gloaming; bogles to go bump in the night with extreme attitude.
Which is not to say I believe in ghosts. Some days I most definitely do not. Like Mark Twain said, "I do not believe in ghosts, but I am afraid of them." I've had just enough creepy, unexplained things happen to me that I've got the notion something's going on, but I don't want to have that notion confirmed--no sirree. I've always been more comfortable with oracles that leave me room for doubt. I don't want absolute confirmation or confrontation. I don't want to *see* anything or hear anything that might rip aside that safe little curtain of rationality. I'm content with the afterimage of presence, the fading smell of manifestation. I reserve a part of my brain for doubt and rational explanations. I need to maintain the ability to retreat there, even if another big part of me gets caught up in the airy-fairyhood, even if another big part of me loves that frisson and seek out things which make my spine rattle with it. But only at a safe remove.
Having a good imagination can be a powerful tool for both good and evil. And I have a brain that is perfectly comfortable with holding irreconcilable ideas within the same skull. Who needs to have a devil on one shoulder, an angel on the other? I've got that pitched battle going on daily in my own twee brain (matinees Sat-Sun). This believer/skeptic thing is just one of my many dichotomies.
It comes down to this: if the universe is stranger than we can imagine, it must be very strange indeed. And if that's the case, anything is possible. And if _that's_ the case, I'd rather not have that confirmed--if it's all the same to you.
So what's the point of all this besides sour grapes? Well, I have a confession to make. (Isn't that what blogs are for?) Another reason it's taking me so long to read this book is because I'm highly suggestible when it comes to this ghost cr!p. I can't read this book past late afternoon, when dusk starts gathering, because my imagination starts to do a hoodoo dance with me. I expect whangdoodles to slither out of the closet; haints to materialize from out of the gloaming; bogles to go bump in the night with extreme attitude.
Which is not to say I believe in ghosts. Some days I most definitely do not. Like Mark Twain said, "I do not believe in ghosts, but I am afraid of them." I've had just enough creepy, unexplained things happen to me that I've got the notion something's going on, but I don't want to have that notion confirmed--no sirree. I've always been more comfortable with oracles that leave me room for doubt. I don't want absolute confirmation or confrontation. I don't want to *see* anything or hear anything that might rip aside that safe little curtain of rationality. I'm content with the afterimage of presence, the fading smell of manifestation. I reserve a part of my brain for doubt and rational explanations. I need to maintain the ability to retreat there, even if another big part of me gets caught up in the airy-fairyhood, even if another big part of me loves that frisson and seek out things which make my spine rattle with it. But only at a safe remove.
Having a good imagination can be a powerful tool for both good and evil. And I have a brain that is perfectly comfortable with holding irreconcilable ideas within the same skull. Who needs to have a devil on one shoulder, an angel on the other? I've got that pitched battle going on daily in my own twee brain (matinees Sat-Sun). This believer/skeptic thing is just one of my many dichotomies.
It comes down to this: if the universe is stranger than we can imagine, it must be very strange indeed. And if that's the case, anything is possible. And if _that's_ the case, I'd rather not have that confirmed--if it's all the same to you.