Watching television with Mr. Dave is always a special time at our house. This is not just because we are both in the same room at the same time staring in the same direction. It involves additional interesting stuff like stimulating conversations, cosmic revelations, and, sometimes, popcorn.
We have determined over the years that we mostly agree with each other’s opinions regarding worldly issues involving politics, religions, and Kardashians. We also totally agree that if our house or any of the objects therein became possessed by a fiendish Satanic critter, we would knock each other over in a turbo-rush to flee the place.
Paranormal television programming has been viewed by Mr. Dave, me, and the cats on a regular basis. Opinions have been voiced, points argued, and the state of mankind’s overall common sense questioned while watching this sort of television program. We never question the state of “our” common sense, by the way. Mr. Dave and I are chock full of that particular sense. Doesn’t mean we use it all time, mind you. We are merely certain that we possess a lot of it.
The basic formula for producing your standard paranormal television program is not overly complicated. First, you need to locate someone on the planet who is willing to sit in front of a camera and relate an incident that really happened to them involving a resident of the ghostly community.
I have no idea how one ensures that a supernatural incident really occurred and isn’t some sort of deceit invented by one of the stupid humans. Stupid humans exist in our physical world in copious numbers, folks. They say stupid stuff and they do stupid stuff for utterly stupid reasons. I like to think of the stupids as a bunch of colorful gemstones mixed in with the rest of us overly serious, gray gravel souls scattered across this fine planet.
The big titter about the stupids community, is that we are all members of it. In any well-lived lifetime, by judgement of one or more of our fellow humans who didn’t much like us, we get voted into the community of stupid. Nearly no one escapes it. Opinion is a bitch.
Next, you should hire some film actors to portray interesting snippets of the story. It makes it entertaining for us viewers to watch the actor stupids try to make sense of their encounter with a member of the spirit community. Make sure there is enough eerie music and special effects so that us viewers will feel the fear and there you have it, the perfect paranormal viewing experience.
Naturally, Mr. Dave and I, being mere mortals with questionable television viewing habits, will sometimes disagree about what the perfect paranormal program consists of. I am not choosy. I am entertained by all of them no matter how ridiculous they may be. Mr. Dave, however, believes that a better job could be done presenting the paranormal side of things.
“There is a better way to do this,” Mr. Dave informed me after we watched an episode of paranormal chaos featuring a frightened family, a missing house cat named Sparky, who may have fallen victim to a nefarious ghostly hit man, and a disembodied humanlike voice that suggested at least three times during the program that everyone just ‘GET OUT!’
“What these ghost chasers should do,” said Mr. Dave, “is a program where someone interviews the spirits who are haunting a house and get their side of the story. They should hire a guy like Anderson Cooper to do the interviews. I’m pretty positive Anderson Cooper could come up with some great questions.”
“That won’t work,” I told him, “Spirits are too busy messing about in the Otherworld to waste time explaining their motives to the living. They are not going to waste their limited energy levels trying to explain themselves to us living stupids.
“I disagree with you,” replied Mr. Dave. If I was producing a paranormal television program, I would title it “An Interview With The Spirits.”
“Hmmm,” I replied in my most unconvinced vocal tone.
“I would provide a suitable talk show format for all the paranormal critters who are verbal and who wish to express their opinions of the afterlife experience,” Mr. Dave informed me. “It would be epic!”
“I doubt that most ghostly spirits would verbal very well,” I replied. “Seems to me that the paranormal critters we see on all the shows we watch mostly growl, thump on the walls, and manifest as scary dark shadows.” They all seem to lack essential speaking skills, like using full sentences, which seems rather necessary if one is going to provide a decent talk show format.”
“I realize this,” said Mr. Dave, “But some of them speak fairly clearly. Those are the ones I would feature on my show.”
“And you think Anderson Cooper, who already has a great career in news reporting, would want to waste his time hosting a talk show featuring invisible paranormal critters.” I sniggered.
“Sure he would,” said Mr. Dave. “Anderson Cooper could handle any situation that may come up. If a couple of the spirits get into an argument and start berating each other, Anderson could step in and steer the conversation in a new direction. Anderson’s capable. He could deal with the unexpected and keep the conversation flowing no matter what.”
“Yep,” I agreed in a sarcastic tone, “I can envision the train wreck, now. Anderson Cooper hosting a bevy of pissy tempered paranormal beings with questionable mental health issues and possible ties to Satan.”
“You don’t think Anderson could handle the job?” gasped Mr. Dave.
“Nope, I do not.” I said. “No one could do that job because it is a stupid job. Anderson doesn’t do stupid stuff.”
“You are so wrong,” muttered Mr. Dave.
“Nope, I am right.” I retorted. “I can see nothing but problems from the onset with a ghostly talk show format. I am assuming none of these potential paranormal interviewees will be manifesting itself. They’re all going to be invisible, right?”
“That is correct,” replied Mr. Dave. “Although if they want to manifest, they could. It would add interest for the viewer.”
“And scare Anderson Cooper to the point of shrieking.” I said.
“Anderson doesn’t scare easily,” said Mr. Dave. “He’s a professional.”
“He would shriek.” I insisted. “He would shriek and then run off the stage and be humiliated and it would all be your fault.”
“He wouldn’t shriek.” growled Mr. Dave. “He would carry on and do his job. He would hold out that microphone and let them say what they need to say.”
“Yes, he would hold out that microphone,” I agreed. “However, since all his haunted guests are invisible, he won’t know where exactly they are standing or sitting or oozing. Most likely, Anderson will end up grievously insulting one of them. He would, probably, accidentally poke one of his guests in the eye with the microphone or confuse an armpit for a mouth. Next thing you know, instead of us hearing ghostly opinion, we see Anderson being drop kicked across the stage by an angry spirit who has personal space issues. There is always an element of potential disaster when interviewing the invisible,” I said.”
“You may be entirely correct,” sighed Mr. Dave, “but I still think it would be a great viewing experience.”
“Yep,” I agreed, “it would be epic.”