Dicon
is not a radish
- Joined
- Oct 23, 2005
- Messages
- 3,142
Well that's it. I'm totally renouncing the skeptic lifestyle and accepting Sylvia Browne as my personal saviour. I'll still be attending TAM5, not as a participant but rather as a protester helping the rest of you see the errors of your ways.
What happened? I was presented with absolute, irrefutable evidence that we have a poltergeist. And he likes to rock out.
Since I know that you unrepentant skeptics get all atwitter for details, I'll happily indulge you. Plus, after hearing my story I'm sure you'll agree that I'm right and you're wrong.
About three weeks ago, my wife and I were working on a project in the garage and thought some music would help pass the time. She went and got our old basic boombox and flipped it on, only to hear silence. I realized that it has been a very long time since I had replaced the batteries (four D cells) and they were obviously dead. We continued with the project and I later put the boombox back in it's normal spot in our upstairs loft.
Fast forward to last night, or more precisely, early this morning. At exactly 3:26 a.m. we were woken up by very, very loud music. Carol instinctively started pushing every button on the alarm clock, but we quickly gathered our wits and noticed that the music was coming from outside the bedroom.
Yes, it was coming from the loft.
I went in and found the PREVIOUSLY DEAD TO THE WORLD boombox blasting at nearly full volume. At that moment, I knew that my entire worldview had been shattered for the only way this could have possibly happened was for a poltergeist to get some new batteries from the 7-11, pop 'em in and crank it up. Despite this revelation, I still managed to turn it off and go back to bed. There is absolutely no other non-paranormal explanation, and I will soon be submitting my boombox for the million dollar prize.
Now, if I still followed all that skeptic nonsense, I might ask the hoity-toity ed-u-cated intellectuals around here what they might know about how batteries can change over time. That is, in their normal chemical whatever-they-do process, could a cell actually morph from no output to finding a bit of spare power deep within its soul? The old me might have also figured that perhaps the batteries were never dead, but just slightly jarred out of position and for whatever reason they reseated themselves at 3:26 a.m. These ideas are, of course, absolutely ridiculous and would only be entertained by closed-minded dullards who don't even own the "What the bleep Do We Know" DVD.
What happened? I was presented with absolute, irrefutable evidence that we have a poltergeist. And he likes to rock out.
Since I know that you unrepentant skeptics get all atwitter for details, I'll happily indulge you. Plus, after hearing my story I'm sure you'll agree that I'm right and you're wrong.
About three weeks ago, my wife and I were working on a project in the garage and thought some music would help pass the time. She went and got our old basic boombox and flipped it on, only to hear silence. I realized that it has been a very long time since I had replaced the batteries (four D cells) and they were obviously dead. We continued with the project and I later put the boombox back in it's normal spot in our upstairs loft.
Fast forward to last night, or more precisely, early this morning. At exactly 3:26 a.m. we were woken up by very, very loud music. Carol instinctively started pushing every button on the alarm clock, but we quickly gathered our wits and noticed that the music was coming from outside the bedroom.
Yes, it was coming from the loft.
I went in and found the PREVIOUSLY DEAD TO THE WORLD boombox blasting at nearly full volume. At that moment, I knew that my entire worldview had been shattered for the only way this could have possibly happened was for a poltergeist to get some new batteries from the 7-11, pop 'em in and crank it up. Despite this revelation, I still managed to turn it off and go back to bed. There is absolutely no other non-paranormal explanation, and I will soon be submitting my boombox for the million dollar prize.
Now, if I still followed all that skeptic nonsense, I might ask the hoity-toity ed-u-cated intellectuals around here what they might know about how batteries can change over time. That is, in their normal chemical whatever-they-do process, could a cell actually morph from no output to finding a bit of spare power deep within its soul? The old me might have also figured that perhaps the batteries were never dead, but just slightly jarred out of position and for whatever reason they reseated themselves at 3:26 a.m. These ideas are, of course, absolutely ridiculous and would only be entertained by closed-minded dullards who don't even own the "What the bleep Do We Know" DVD.