One of the bulletins attracting yours truly’s eye on Twitter this morning was a notice advertising the cancellation of a local psychic’s gig due to ‘unforeseeable circumstances’. I’ve no idea whether this was a spoof tweet or genuine notification. However, if it was a bona fide announcement it’s hard not to conclude the clairvoyant perhaps needs to brush up on his presage skills.
After all, if this fella couldn’t foresee the circumstances which’d scuppered his evening of entertainment, would you believe this fella was genuinely passing on advocacies from your uncle Arthur on the other side….. I certainly wouldn’t….. Particularly as my uncle Arthur isn’t dead yet!!
That being said, although witnessing this announcement raised a wry smile, if the ‘Great Augur’ (or whatever he was called) evening had’ve gone ahead as scheduled it’s not something I’d have attended anyhow.
This indifference at audience participation a consequence of deep scepticism into such forecasting hackery. In GJ Strachan’s mind, like a horoscope, such soothsaying is basically vague chaff its listeners want to believe; the awe-struck devotees reading whatever they desire into such hooey.
If, for instance, a psychic relayed my aunt Jean warned me from the other side not to invest in pork bellies, I’d immediately question the advices validity. After all, I’ve not got an aunt called Jean, which’d immediately render the prophecy questionable.
I’m not instinctively opposed to mystical hocus pocus as such; after all, some events I’ve read of paint wonderful comedic landscapes. An example of this being Woody Allen’s parody of the metaphysical in his book Without Feathers. One of the comic writer’s vignettes humorously claiming celestial intervention had resulted in a guy from New Jersey ‘getting clean’ whenever his Boston based twin took a shower.
I respect individuals right to believe what they want irrespective of proof, or use of common sense. GJ Strachan finding, in the current political zeitgeist either side of the Atlantic, this deference to freedom of speech, and ignoring it, is a pragmatic approach against going completely bonkers.
I’d advocate it’s good to keep an open mind about anything neither side of the topic’s opinion spectrum can prove conclusively. However, as far as I’m concerned, the burden of proof in the existence of the supernatural shouldn’t rest on the sceptic’s shoulders.
I suppose, my notions about psychic phenomena are similar to Woody Allen’s relating to God’s existence, in his movie Love & Death. Allen’s character (Boris Grushenko) positing that he’d be a lot more convinced of an omnipotent being’s existence if God’d give him a clear sign – Such as making a large deposit in his name to a Swiss bank….. Which I’d agree would prove conclusively the existence of both phenomena…… Particularly if the dough arrives before my holiday in three weeks time!
Although my late mum shared a similar mistrust of psychic practises, I seem to recollect she did once visit a fortune teller on a Blackpool pier during a 1960’s break.
After crossing the soothsayers palm with silver, well a shiny sixpence, my mater (Maggie) was informed she’d have two musical children. She went on to have three offspring – My brother Ian plays guitar and our sister Helen and me have been members of choirs.
So unless my singing’s so poor it can’t be classed as musical, the lady in question got that piece of augury incorrect….. Although, in the psychic’s defence she did tell my mum one of her kids would one day utilise the word augury in prose, which’s just come to pass.
Maggie never returned into the unreliable world of fortune telling after what became known in the family as the 1962 Blackpool Crystal Ball Calumny. The matriarch concluding even if there was any truth amongst a fortune teller’s prophecies she’d only believe the negative life predictions, not the positive ones. Subsequently, deducing her attendance at such clambakes would only increase her angst, not provide cognitive reassurance, and as such ill advised.
So now you know!…… Or, perhaps not!