The wonders of science are inspiring to behold. For any claim, without fear or favor, may come into the realm to be measured, weighed, affirmed or denied. As an added inducement to the Paranormal Pack, The Amazing Randi has long offered one million dollars American to anyone who can prove any one of the psychic gifts they so casually advertise. Several hustlers have tried to fool the clinic over the years, without a single success. Most of the famous mountebanks decline to participate, of course.

There are two major tributaries to be plotted to this Raging River of the Ripofff Remedy. One is the common need of those who lack the competence or diligence to attain higher knowledge to simply assume the credit for it, and the other is from the same waters but includes poor souls in denial of harsh remedies for grim diagnoses. The latter can do no better, and the former are glad of it. And so both Sylvia Browne and Faux Noise find a ready audience.

My Lady and I once sat in on a huge workshop of the divine healing practice, where a large hall in a major hotel was filled with eager witnesses to the act of a plumber of sorts who cleaned the ducts which transport something called chakra throughout our systems. The star interrupted a pleasant harp recital to breathe deeply into a mic and seemingly knead all our auras from the foot of the stage. She then showed some ordinary snapshots from home while identifying the usual reflections a flash makes on a shiny surface as "chakras." We were thinking, here we are, pleasantly seated amidst a mob of utter lunatics.

But then something occurred to us. These hordes are not necessarily gulls; they only await the opportunity through this simple internship of filling up their own halls (at upwards of three hundred a head) for their own medicine shows.

This sense was confirmed for us by a couple of distant relatives who ply that particular trade; one does `energy work’ and her niece is a Doctor of Chinese Medicine, both degrees conveyed for sitting through such Pentecostal programs as we had witnessed. From time to time, as will happen in every life, various alarming symptoms occurred within the non-astral bodies of both the miracle workers, as well as two or three gurus in transit staying with them for a time, and in each and every occasion all the paranormals dumped their natural healing karma and galloped to ER, just as you or I would have.

There is no requirement that the hustler onstage actually believe in his snake oil in order to sell the goods.

For those who like this kind of thing, this is the sort of thing they will like. – Abe Lincoln’s strangely apt judgment on the first wave of "spiritualism" to arrive on our shores.

Clovis

Clovis

Smalltown Texan, Blackland Prairie, a senior. Sometimes I have trouble keeping up. Married, with Rottie/Pit. Reading, and some writing, that's me.

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