All things in life are cyclical, including my attitude, and lately, my attitude stinks! I realize it’s related to my incarceration by the medical profession, but I’ve been on a rampage of sorts – about incorrect use of science, bad investigation technique, mediums… There must be other topics I’ve unceremoniously trashed, but it was unavoidable, I assure you. I just needed to get those things out – like some kind of mental colonic I needed to endure before resuming wonderful human being status. Well, I meant every unpleasant word, but now that this is passing and my mind is all better, I feel guilty for adding to the world’s cumulative negativity.
So I have plans to reverse my unconstructive verbal swill into something a little less sanguine; something more edifying and mutually beneficial. So keep your eyes open for that. You don’t wanna miss that! Ah… such imagery.
Anyway, before I embark upon this journey into better narrative; before I return to a place where all is well and everyone gets pie; where the good never die young and the spirits flow freely, there’s just one more thing I am compelled to purge from my captive, soggy mind. It’s a subject I swore I would never touch – paranormal television shows. Seat belts buckled? The old man is about to commit some kind of personal carnage – this should be entertaining if nothing else.
But relax – it won’t be that bad. Not interested in he said “this” and she doesn’t get paid enough, or so-and-so doesn’t like being paired up with what’s-his-face. There’s no need to resurrect “run dude run” again (ooops), but tell me this – what in the world was Vince Neal and the Girls doing on Ghost Adventures?
I’m actually a fan of Zak, Nick, and Aaron. I think they’re too abrasive sometimes – too confrontational for me, but I believe their evidence is genuine, and I believe they care about authenticity. There’s great passion there for the work. Of course, all of that is arguable, but my immediate problem has nothing to do with their investigative credibility. What was that on my television screen last Friday, all black and white and blurry?
“Vince is really into this stuff,” I think I heard Zak say. I understand – these days, who isn’t? Is that all it takes to do a guest spot on GA? Well, okay, but was the entire cackling entourage really necessary? Could any EVP from that investigation withstand even the weakest of scrutiny? Who were those people and how much did they pay Travel Channel to make all that tv magic take place?
I have a lot of questions, because I can’t believe I saw it happen. Where was the usual minimal decorum? The respect for the dead? A sense of dignity? Common sense? Was there any attention paid to investigation protocol? Why not just do an investigation during an NFL game or in the midst of stuffing as many people as you can into a phone booth? (Remember phone booths?) At one point, it appeared as though Mr. Neal might be suffering a heart attack. Really? I actually expected someone to yank him out of there and have him checked out or something. Possibly driven away in an ambulance or at the very least, removed from the situation and observed. You better believe if you were on an investigation with me there’s no way those symptoms would be chalked up to spiritual transference or ignored in any way. Of course, maybe it was just for show. Hmmm…
I don’t know about you, but I watch these shows for three reasons. First, I watch because I find them entertaining. Second, because you never know what you could possibly learn from them. And lastly, out of support. The field needs public attention and these shows provide it. These shows are important. But this was a spectacle! What could they do to top it this week, I wonder? Flo from Progressive? The gecko? Trump?
Suffice it to say that I enjoy ogling an attractive woman the same as most men do. But I don’t watch Ghost Adventures to see one snuggle up on Frank Sinatra’s bed with an aging rock star asking stupid questions of the deceased. Oh! I almost forgot about the former beauty queen turned tacky groupie trying to share her ghostly experience in a small room with no less than the chorus line from the Tropicana. Okay, I’m exaggerating, but if you saw the episode, you know just how much of a zoo it really was.
Of course, I’m sure Zak could care less what anyone thought of the display – he doesn’t even know I exist anyway. I’m also certain that he marches to the beat of a different drummer. That’s just how he rolls, ya know. But Vince Neal? Too bad it wasn’t Tommy Lee. At least he has some screen experience – all black and white and blurry.