Is Your Child a Psychic? by shoutingatco.ws

Inexplicably, the weekly horror mags – Pick Me Up, Love It, etc – present the idea of ghosts as though they were as real as cheese or despair.  And so, every week, there’s a mad article about someone who co-incidentally predicted a car accident, or saw the spirit of their dead nan knitting and stinking of piss in the corner of the room.

This week’s Pick Me Up (it was an emergency purchase to read on the train; don’t judge me) is no different.  It features the story of Nathan Wakefield, and his thick mum Dawn, who reckon that he can communicate with the dead.  Can he?  No, of course not.

And what evidence is there?  ” ‘Grandad’s here,’ he’d say to me.”  Fair enough, then.  Definitely real.  ”Nathan didn’t tell tales”, confirms his idiot mother.  Dunno about you, but that’s enough to convince me of an afterlife, and that everything we thought we knew about physics, chemistry and biology is actually incorrect.  I mean, what did Einstein know anyway?  The daft-haired tit.

A medium called Hazel wanders round – free of charge, presumably.  There’s no way these people would use their gift to profit from the gullibility of others.  “Nathan has a gift.  I can see it in his aura, he’s an indigo child.”  An indigo child.  Of course he bloody is.  Why not.  If you’re going to make up new branches of science, just go balls out.  Yeah, his aura is indigo.  Nice one, Hazel.

“Six months on, I saw an ad saying a medium, Patrick Hutchinson, was coming to a local pub.  I went along and watched as he wowed people with his messages from the other side.”

See, here’s the problem.  If this guy, along with Hazel, and professional bullshitters like Derek Acorah really do have this gift, if they really can talk to the dead and pass messages back… then why are they doing it in the back room of a pub?  Why has there been no peer reviewed scientific testing to quantify exactly what it is they can do?  Why aren’t they keen to expand the knowledge of the human race, and go down in history?  Actually, we know the answers, and so do you.  Which is why Derek and his mates just bullshit at a bunch of half-drunk inbreds in a bar in the back of nowhere.

And also because insidious fuckheads like Paddy can do things like this:

” ‘Would you consider doing a private reading for us?’  ’Absolutely,’ he agreed.  I gathered nine friends together and we paid £30 each to have Patrick round.”

Fucking with people’s memories of their loved ones.  Talking on behalf of someone who died.  Exploiting their grief.  For £300.  Cunt.

Our favourite part is a DIY check-list for equally thick parents:

• Do they finish your sentences?
• Do their dreams come true?
• Do they tell you a lost loved one has spoken to them?
• Does the sound of crying upset them?

If you’ve answered yes to any of these, your child might be psychic.

There’s no rational explanation for any of those things, apart from having a psychic child.  It’s incredible.  Almost like children generally like the sound of crying.  And that they might not be entirely reliable about what they’ve seen or heard.  Oh, and your child isn’t psychic.  Don’t go all weird and ruin his life, for god’s sake.

Oh, and for £3 a go, you can text ANGEL and a question to 86655.  Their sample question is “ANGEL What does my guardian angel reveal about my future?” The probably response:  An expensive phone bill, and a sense of self-loathing.

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