Crash Go the Poltergeists

"There's nothing in the dark that isn't there when the light is on." Rod Serling, 'The Twilight Zone" (1962)

To read my other article on poltergeists, click here: "Poltergeists I Have Known".

To read my article on sleep paralysis, click here: "Night Hag: Cursed by the Dream Demon."

To read my article on EVPs and Ghost Boxes, cleck here: "Dead Man Calling: On Receiving Paranormal Phone Messages"

To read my article "The Exile", click here (video posted below): "The Exile: A History With the Hooded Man."

I was lying in bed last night when I heard a huge crash in the hall. I bolted up; it scared the hell out of me. But I didn't go to see what had happened. I simply went back to sleep. Curious response.

This morning, when I got up, several books were lying on the floor, and a painting hanging on the lower hallway hall was crooked. Of course, I realized immediately they didn't fall of their own accord. They were pushed, the stack of them, from the bookshelf. The only possible explanations, of course, are either a rodent, which is possible, or a poltergeist.

I'm a Haunted Man

I generally prefer the presence of the Dead to the living. It's just a personal grudge. It's not that I'm particularly enamored of a bunch of old, dead souls wandering around in the Misty Veil, reaching out because suicides, those who died suffering from dementia, and like circumstances. are unable to meld back into Universal Consciousness. Why they should be any more interesting while dead as opposed to when they were alive is a question that begs answering, but at least, we may be able to learn something from their present disembodied state as a Discarnate.

I read tarot cards and occasionally move into a trance-like state for clients; I usually do this seven days a week, hardly ever skipping a day. So I keep the portal open I suppose. I own a Ouija Board, as well as an ITC (Instrumental Trans Communication) device commonly referred to as a "Ghost Box"; i.e. a small radio transmitter that sweeps the frequency bands and out of whose sometimes garbled, fuzzy voices, putative "spirit messages" are said to be transmitted. Which, unlike traditional E.V.P. is not "after the fact" (after a recording is played back and the voices are discovered), but is said to allow you to communicate, live [live?] with a ghost, someone formerly "among the living" but no longer so burdened.

The Ouija I rarely ever take from the box; the Ghost Box never. Occasionally I use the Ouija (usually on Halloween night or Walpurgisnacht), but I find it largely a dull undertaking these days. It suggested I write a book called "I Was Jack the Ripper in a Former Life," but I don't know if it was suggesting that I literally claim this, or simply write it as a novel. I rather like the idea, either way. (I've always felt an affinity for Gentle Jack, late Victorian London, the world of Alan Moore's From Hell. "Yours truly...")

I cannot use Ghost Box, as even taking it from the box invites electrical appliances operating themselves, and mysterious phone calls. (One was a recorded message urging me to look into funeral arrangements; another a weird babbling in a language that sounded Chinese; but the most frightening was the voice mired in electrical static, such as they usually are, that simply said my name in a hoarse, gravely, choked whisper. I have a recording of that I'll embed here.)

"The Exile"

I've had a history of poltergeist occurrences, E.V.P.s, and "Ghost Voice" phone messages, such as books "falling" from the shelf that I know were actually pushed (it was impossible for them to just "fall"). Occasionally a tapping on the wall will wake me at night, and I've heard singing, and growling, and felt menace creeping across the room. The bed for years has woken me up shaking at times. As a child, I awoke to "Night Hags" and hooded beings--macabre, insect-like creatures--standing over the bed. I call the Hooded One, "The Exile." Chat helped me to develop a Solo RPG, a journaling one, based on the concept, and I use the character of The Exile as a kind of avatar of the Dungeonmaster in my sandbox (i.e. open-ended) solo gaming sessions. I have an essay (which, like most of my serious writings, goes largely ignored) on The Exile, and it is also available to listen to as a video.

"The Exile" I Tom Baker I Night Hag, Sleep Paralysis

All of which is to say: I'm a haunted man. I've spent better than twenty years dealing with ghosts. My late friend Jon Titchenal and I explored that realm together and wrote about that in our (unfortunately titled by the publisher) book Haunted Indianapolis, seventeen YEARS ago now. In 2020, the Year of the Pandemic, Jon died, and I never found out why. He's gone now.

Or is he?

He perhaps wants me to continue our work. I'm profligate in this, but I'm sure he still has messages to impart, from the Other Side. Messages from beyond. He's waiting. I keep stalling; I've been stalling for a long, long time.

But, maybe it's time to "open the gates." To finally pull the messenger from the shadows. To, metaphorically speaking, put pen to paper.

Yes. That must be it.

In closing, I'll say that none of this unduly disturbs me, although I am concerned that if it is going to wake me abruptly in such a manner, I might have a coronary (a very real possibility with my heart condition). I suppose if that happens I'll go to join the spirits. A far more charming lot they are.

I used to tell a joke to people. I said, "As a spiritualist, I've talked to the living, and I've talked to the dead. As a misanthrope, I much prefer the dead."

Har-har.

There's a rotten rib-tickler from way back, massaging you with fingers of ooey, gooey ectoplasm. Waking you up at night, accosting your bookshelves, and troubling your sleep.

As Sammy Terry used to say, "Many...pleasant...nightmares."

(Cue Outro.)

EVP Ghost Voice: "Is this on?"

A Phone Call from the Dead I Electronic Voice Phenomena recording # 2

Electronic Voice Phenomenon Recording 1