Ghost Hunting

During my usual flipping, I came across a special on the Discovery Channel that halted me. The subject: Ghost Hunters.

My initial reaction was to giggle. Admittedly, the particular case being investigated - a young girl catching a glimpse of a figure in her doorway - was suspect. The methods seemed even more preposterous. At one point, the technicians pulled out a Duracel nine-volt to test the woman's conductivity. Our response as a society is to chuckle. These ill-equipped, completely self-funded nerds make easy targets.

But what if they're right? What if we're all just too chicken to offer our support?

After all, we burned astronomer Giordano Bruno at the stake and drove Ignaz Semmelweis out of medicine before accepting the proof of solar systems and microorganisms offered by their more famous successors, Galileo and Pasteur.

What if we are surrounded by ghosts? Or ghosts of sorts? What if we're all just souls floating around in the cosmos, taking our turns in these cool little vehicles called bodies? What if all of these spirits can see what we're up to all of the time? I can't imagine behaving like my parents are watching me every waking (and sleeping) moment.

The demeanor and reputation of these spirit-chasing scientists certainly do not help their cause. All of the intelligent, charming and/or good-looking doctors are successful in other, accepted fields or failures by choice, which still provides more professional dignity than hunting ghosts.

But let's face it. We don't give them a chance because we don't want to. It's simply too fantastic, too reality shattering.

So why do we jump every time the puppet appears to move on its own accord?