Sunday, October 29, 2006

Gold Wolf Howls In Hell

This is Mr. Grumpy Punkie! Say hi to the kids Mr. Grumpy Punkie!
Now go HERE, and read this post
(Sunday, October 29, 2006 My Son Has Outdone Himself Once Again )
and find out how a pumpkin should REALLY be done. And join me in welcoming the newest member of the FlatButt Nation, Burning Buffalo Chaos!!!!

Well. Now It's time to write the dreaded Halloween Spooky Post you've all been waiting for and I'm a little reluctant to do it. But here goes.

Yes it really happened. And thats the first and last time I'll ever say that here.

I have had lots of bizarre things happen to me in my life...some of them perpetrated by the living and some of them perpetrated by the living in ways I didn't quite understand at the time. I strongly suspect this story falls into the latter case. At the time I was so frightened it didn't all hit me at once but kept rolling over me in waves for weeks afterwards. At the time, I thought it was proof of Satan.

My mother, up until the time of her conversion experience, was a deeply superstitious person. She was a believer in spirits and Spiritualism, communication with the dead, angels, demons, posession and ghosts. When an item would turn up missing in our house, once everyone had been found guilty and then dismissed through lack of evidence she would head for the hall closet and pull out her Ouija board to ask the spirits for assistance. This was standard procedure for years.

From the time I was old enough to sit still, about four, I was often the second set of knees under the board and the second set of fingertips on the planchette. I recall her using the thing by herself, too, seated in a chair next to my bed while I settled down for a nap. And this never seemed odd to anyone, not even to me, not for years. It worked.
And thats something to remember here. Bear that in mind.
It worked.
Lost items were found. Forgotton names were revealed. It was used to find lost keys, jewelry, paperwork, gravesites (we were the caretakers of our town's Pioneer Cemetary and records were sketchy) waterlines, etc. In fact it succeeded on the waterline location issue where the city and a dowser we'd called in had failed.

My mother was convinced that I had either a gift of 'sight' or at least attracted unseen helpers gifted with same. In any event I grew up believing that an unseen world with purposes of it's own surrounded me, rearranging small items around the house, making the cats stop and stare at nothing and generally dicking with our heads, and that I was attracting them.

By the time I was eleven or twelve the weird was running full bore. My mother taught herself to compose astrological charts. I had been given a set of Tarot cards-her old ones. 'Fate' magazines littered the basement and front room, Edgar Cayces' collected works were in the bookshelves, Jeanne Dixon was a household word and Yuri Gellar was taken at face value. Oh, we never missed Yuri. And each time he appeared my mother would send me into the kitchen and dining room during the commercial breaks to check and see the clocks were still running and the silverwear wasn't jumping around inside the drawers. In fact he got the blame when her watch stopped running and she wondered whether or not she should call the Mike Douglas Show and tell them about it. I suspect she may have, and I think she wanted Gellar to pay for it to be repaired.

Oh yes.

One evening we had company and the subject of the Ouija board came up. Everyone was all for it, until the thing actually came out of the box and then they chickened out. My mom came and got me, and I was happy enough to join her. Everyone gathered around us and we set up, chairs facing, knees touching and the board resting on our laps, fingertips barely contacting the planchette. My mother was very particular about all this.... your fingertips had to be arched high and over, like a pianist, so that only the barest dot of skin actually contacted the surface. Nobody could talk. Nobody could laugh. Nobody could interrupt and the television had to be turned off.

I don't remember what the questions were. Stuff like 'name everyone here' and what's your name' and 'when did you die' and shit. The questions never mattered much because the whole point of the experience was watching the planchette glide around the board, A, B, C...Yes, No....and this time was similar. And as soon as I touched the thing it set off around the board in long, slow arcs and away we went. Our company was absolutely fascinated.

The initial glee and amusement wore off instantly when the planchette began moving faster. It started spelling out words so quickly that our designated scribe had trouble keeping up. The whole company started calling out the letters. Everyone was gathered closely around watching.
The damn thing would not stop. It circled around and around the board, stopping over letters just long enough for the group to call them out to the scribe.
It started to be a chore to keep my fingers on the planchette. My mom realized this at the same time and we glanced up at each other in surprise a couple times. Her touch was so light you could hear her fingernails chattering lightly on the plastic. Finally I had to lean over the board and follow the movement with my arms in motion just to maintain contact.
The group was still calling out the letters and the scribe was frowning at her notepad. She started to act concerned, then irritated and then put the notepad down. 'It's a bunch of dirty words', she said, only half amused.
My mother took her fingers off her side of the planchette and settled back in her chair. My fingers were still on the thing, and I was still concentrating on keeping up. The planchette kept racing around, pulling me after it.
And then suddenly it shot sideways off the board, across the room, and hit the fireplace like a bullet.
And then scream. Everyone jumped back, my mother stood up, knocked her chair over backwards, and there I sat with the board still on my knees gaping at the fireplace with my hands still poised midair. Everyone was jumping out of the way and yipping and milling. 'Why'd you do that for!' shouted my my mom.
'She didn't!' replied several guests. 'I didn't', I added. 'It did it itself!'
The notepad was being passed around and when it reached my mom she laughed, tore the page off and threw it away, with me clamoring after her to show it to me.
The Ouija Board got burned.

To this day I look back on that and time still hasn't changed my perspective or my understanding of the event. And I really want that to happen, y'all; I mean, I want a rational explaination for what I remember clear as a bell. I was barely, barely touching the planchette when the thing thing shot away sideways-horizontally-like a whipcrack. It shot across the room like an arrow for twenty five feet, hit the fireplace in the next room with a crack and rebounded off it. I felt it take off. I was looking at it when it took off. My mother, my aunt and uncle, and a woman named Meta were looking too, and my father and another man were present in the living room and complained loudly when the thing hit the fireplace near them. The lights were on, I for one wasn't in an altered chemical state and...there you go.

Oh yes. Happy Halloween!


  1. Wow...spooky and strange.

    Unfortunately the only spooky things that happen to me involve real live people who have the same IQ as a lima bean.

  2. Top little story. That's energy for you. It's cool x

  3. FE, I believe you.

    I'll leave it at that except to say that I believe there spirits with less than good intentions wandering this earthly plane of ours.

    I don't touch those ouija boards anymore either.

  4. Anonymous11:31 PM

    I have a ouija board mouse pad. May have to think about getting rid of it. That's some spooky stuff, Maynard. Thanks for sharing (don'tcha just gotta love Halloween?).

  5. that sort of thing gives me the willies , I am glad I read this , sitting in my office , first thing in the morning......

  6. Wow. I'm kinda jealous. I always wanted to try a Ouija board but too many of my mates are Christian and shit. :(

    And I'm not doing it on my own! Do I look stupid??

  7. i had a ouji board as a kid. it was considered a dumb toy, like barbie and pick-up stix.

    i wanna know what was written on the paper!

  8. Ouji board? When I first left home I had room a cold unheated house, sharing. We always played with the board. Very like your experience - every time we played it got stronger. We used a glass instead of the planchette and one night it just flew off the board and smashed against the wall. Unaided. Never played that thing again.

  9. I like your pumpkin! A different expression for a change.

  10. awaiting: see, thats not spirits, that gas. lima beans man...and I don't buy it. you live down South, and according to everyone the South has more invisible residents causing trouble than it has visible ones. maybe you aren't 'in toooon' with the aether! try another channel.
    benj: welcome! don't get any ideas. those things are creepy.
    pam: i know where you're coming from. the only good that came of my moms 'born agin' phase was that we got rid of all that evil bullshit psychic spirit crap once and for all.
    kristy: you work for the city, right? get the boobie one with the boobie wrist rest. that should go over well.
    beast: i wonder if it could have tuned in your guy in the garden shed? what would he have had to say????? probably 'Get off ma laaaaaaand'.
    noshit: NO. avoid the bad potty Ouija board. BAD, BAD TOILET OUIJA BOARD.
    cb: blasphemous phrases mixed with common obscenity. answer your email.
    frobi: thats my experience too. the more it gets used the stronger it gets and the meaner it gets. Brrr!
    megan: howdy! and thanks. yeah, I like to do something different.

  11. Okay, parents bathroom had 2 parts. The first part was the sink, hamper, and a really big wall to wall mirror. Through another door you accesed the bath and toilet. So one day soe friends and I all closed ourselves up in the first part, turned off the lights and started chanting bloody mary. When we saw a green fog come across the mirror we all fell over one another trying to get out.

    Never told anyone, too traumatized!

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  13. UAHHAafgghhh!!!

    *shiver* I am absolutely petrified of the thing and i've only played with it a couple of times when i was 13 or 14. I would never allow the thing in my house even though i never trusted the girls (one in particular) that i played with. I was convinced that it was her moving it, but there was always a part of me that freaked right the fuck out about the whole thing. But then again, i'm afraid of scary movies.
    Strangely, it was my father who put the kabash on the whole thing by explaining to me that it scared the crap out of him, too, and quite frankly if it scared dad, i cerainly couldn't handle it.

    You gave me the heebie jeebies. Thanks! Are you passing out what it said on the paper? i'm totally curious. And creeped.

  14. Wow, you must of creeped me out. That whole LONG comment is totally jumbled and makes no sense.

    Look what you've done to me. It must be the spirits...

  15. I love this story! I mean, I love it now that I've read it. If you told it to me in a darkened room I might have clung to you and cried.

    Never had any odd things happen with our Ouija board, but then I had lots of teenage siblings trying to manipulate it into saying naughty things. I've had a number of other odd experiences, though... think I'll have to share one more for Halloween.

    Use your powers for good, padawan!

  16. awaiting: i've heard of bloody mary before but i thought it was a british thing. or a drink. do tell!
    claire: get ahold of yourself! have a shot! good gravy marie, it happened in 1970 or something. its gone now!
    danator: and now you understand my totally conflicted feelings about the occult, eh?

  17. FN , I think it's more likely he would say , dont send the scary old lady again.

  18. Anonymous1:28 PM

    I hate ouija boards. Even the reading the words gives me the shivers.

  19. Anonymous1:30 PM

    ...and your comments just made me anonymous...I'm off to cover up all the mirrors and switch on all the lights in the apartment

  20. Unfortunately I do not believe that anything exists outside of the empirical universe and ouija boards never worked for me because on the day that my Mother found me inside the rocket ship that had plowed into the neighbour's corn field she had the foresight to protect me from the evil, jealous, soul stealing spirits that guide you when you play on the ouija board (Satan's playground) by dipping me into the river Styx as she rode the sacred ostrich through the flaming hoop on Equinox Day.

    It sort of took all of the fun out of life really.

    Even though I do not believe in ghosts I cannot watch those damn night vision shows on A&E..
    you know the one with that tall adamant British Dude who channels his way through all of those old creepy hotels and spooky homes in the English countryside...
    OK maybe I'll watch if ALL of the lights in the house are on...

  21. Oh, BTW? I [HEART]Mr. Grumpy Punkie!

    That is all.

  22. Love the pumpkin - especially the motorbike eyes - well that's what it looks like to me. Yeah - ouija is a bit scary but things like that don't bother me - we had a poltergeist in my first house as a child and alot of 'occurences' and 'sightings'. I grew to live with it - it didn't scare me.

  23. Re: Bloody Mary - my childhood friends tried to get me to do that, too. A certain "friend", Jackie, told me that she and her sister got it to work and that she became possessed by Mary and started flying around the room. I couldn't look in the mirror for weeks after that because i totally belived her. Shut up, i was 7.

  24. beast: yeah, i think you're right!
    hendrixanon: good; you do that. I'll wait here. next to the big, bright, ghost-repellant sodium vapor light.
    homoE: oooo, never seen that one! seen the ghost-busting plumbers from new jersey, though.
    danator: thank you. he (heart) you too. in a grumpy way.
    rocky: oh, hey, now, you can't just 'mention and run', there you. come on. either do a post on it or spill it here!
    claire: i'm sorry you were scared and all, but WHAT IS BLOODY MARY????? i feel left out now.*snif*

  25. Anonymous7:01 PM

    I like your pumpkin. You should carve a picture of your tatoo into a pumpkin. That would be cool.

  26. Anonymous9:35 PM

    So, why is it that the spirits won't do something smart like take control of someone's hand while holding pen to paper and just write out their super-important undead message? Why do they only get chatty when people are sitting at a letter-inscribed, wooden board with the words "Hasbro" and "Made in Taiwan" written in the corner?

    Spirits is stoopid! And most annoyingly inefficient.

  27. Is that all true? Because if it isn't then I will be the fool but hey, when has that stopped me?

    I was heavily involved with the ouija board when i was about 19... it used to take off, with a powerful force its own... I believe you have to know how to protect yourself from the energies that visit... luckily nothing awful happened but many friendships and relationships went haywire at the time... and so I left it...

    ... but then I got into hypnosis and past life regression and one of the times that I hypnotised my cousin A my dead friend entered her body... but I shall leave that for another day...

    ... all to say I can so relate! Wow... what conversations we could share at "tea time"! ;)

  28. Anonymous6:30 AM

    well, damn. apparently, you've got alot of spectral shit goingon FN. you'd be the person who i'd like to drag to one of the civil war cemataries for fun to see what would happen. or heck, just to my church's cemetary.

    when i go to a cematary, it's strange, b/c i feel some kind of connection, but don't understand it. odd, i know.

  29. mrT: one with your 'stache would be better!
    spiffy: yeah, interesting, isn't it? thats why i think its a human mind thing instead of a woooooooo type thing.
    mizB: it happened. and for whatever reason, it was evil, too. from that point on I tend to avoid the dead. Jerry Garcia, just fuck right off buddy.
    pink: one of the few places that I feel nonchalant about is a graveyard because we were caretakers for so long. all they are to me is a garden thats really difficult to mow. civil war battelgrounds????? NONONONONO!

  30. Found it! Bloody Mary on Wikipedia

    Our version was saying her name 3 times in the mirror. Ick.

  31. Oh yes, very glad I am sitting at the desk in the light of day with my trusty coffee cup by my side. Very interesting. Of course, we were never allowed to have a ouija board in my home growing up - ironically the evil spritis found us anyway. But this was a tale worthy of a movie (could be made for tv, but done nicely you know?).

    Nicely spun yarn - and I believe you! Nice pumpkin at the door lady. And oh yeah, believe Jerry took your advice. Hey how could you not love The Dead?

  32. Anonymous11:26 AM

    Love the pumpkin FN. I've had a few spooky experiences myself - I've posted about them today inkeeping with the Halloween spirit. I'd never touch a ouji board though not if you paid me. Those things are dangerous.

  33. Anonymous11:30 AM

    I've enjoyed my visit here. Oh yes.

    My mate Steve's mum was a medium, who would hold seances with her two witch friends in the kitchen. Beryl was an opera singer, and Janice was a cook in the local school's canteen.

    I remember one gathering in particular. The coven was speaking in tongues. Steve was smoking a reefer in the bath as usual. He was a troubled kid.

    His dad Bryan was watching television. When Steve got out of the bath, he joined his thirty friends, who were sitting in his room listening to Hawkwind. Steve had sunken eyes. He looked like Skeletor in the "Masters Of The Universe" cartoon. Steve addressed all thirty of us;
    "Let's go out, boys. But don't go into the kitchen, man. My mum's talking to my Gran."

    We filed down the stairs, and out of the front door. I was the second last to leave. Steve was behind me, and before closing the door, he poked his head into the lounge, and spoke to his dad;

    "Goodnight mum," he said, and switched off the light. It was four o'clock in the afternoon.

    Was it the reefer? Was it the magic?

    Whatever, it was very confusing.

  34. FN, totally enjoyed the story. My mom and your mom must be related somehow. My mom loved the Ouija, the Tarot, had (and still has) several friends who are channelers, and loved anything weird like that. The only thing is she was never born again, she is still the same way. Someday, we must get together over a bottle of Tequila and swap stories.