Spooks

 No, not that kind....

This kind

  Like the word "queer," I'd like to bring the word "spook" back to its original meaning.  You know, like "faggot."

Apparently has his own jet airplane.  

And is a millionaire.

But, I don't see an earring or makeup.

But, I digress.....

    My daughter loves to watch “Ghost Adventures.”
   
    For those who have lives and may not know, “Ghost Adventures”

When normal networks won't do.
The Travel Channel.

is a program on the Travel Channel that purports to show what the “living-challenged” are like.
  
    Oh, sure, some of you may smugly think you know everything there is to know about ghosts.  You’ve seen Casper cartoons, watched Bill Murray in “Ghostbusters,” and thought Patrick Swayze was the hottest spook (see?  There's that word again) you have ever seen.
      
    Poor Taste Department:  Of course as we all know, Patrick Swayze has since become a ghost.

"Insensitive prick."

    Anyway, “Ghost Adventures” follows the...uh...adventures of Zak (he of the big biceps) and his two sidekicks as they crawl around supposedly haunted places in the middle of the night (never in broad daylight.  I think that’s a law).  Using state of the art equipment, two cheesy goatees, and panicked gasps of “Dude!” from Aaron, they try to convince us that mouse farts are, in reality, calls from beyond the grave.

     
    Sometimes I watch the show with her just to make fun of it and poke her in the side screaming, “Boo!”  Our favorite episode was when the boys visited the abandoned Remington Arms factory in Bridgeport, Connecticut. 

It's looked better.  

Not in my lifetime, though.

For those unfortunate enough to be traveling through Bridgeport (Safety Tip:  Very fast, and with your car doors locked and windows rolled-up), you can see the factory just before you disappear in a pothole on I-95.  The reason I liked that particular show was that, since my personality was forged in that cauldron of urban decay, I recognized the area.  Which is why I moved very far away from it.
  
    

    I had to laugh at Zak and company.  Even though they tried to impress upon us that their immortal souls were in danger, they were actually safer locked inside.  I’m not saying Bridgeport is dangerous, but even the birds carry guns.

"Just so we're clear.  Nobody will be able to get inside, right?  

You know, because Bridgeport."

      The more I thought about the idea of ghosts, the more I thought about what do people do to get rid of them (especially if they’re stupid enough to build a house over an Indian graveyard.  Always Indian, never Amish)?

"It's never Amish, is it?"
"Ja, ve explode der dead.  Saves space."
"Jealous bastards.  Okay, who's up for cow-tipping?"

      For instance, are Catholics the only ones allowed to be exorcists?
  
    What happens if a priest isn’t available and you had to call in, say, a Methodist?
  
    OK, raise your hands.  How many think a demon would be intimidated by a Methodist?  That’s right, any self-respecting spawn of Satan would just yawn and put up drapes.
  
    Anyone plagued by denizens from beyond the grave would have

"I cast you out, Satan!  

Because I'm Batman."

to call in a priest (sort of like a theological Batman), wouldn't you think?  Who’d then sprinkle some holy water on the sofa, say a few “Be gone from this holy place, foul demon!” incantations, and hand out Bingo cards.    
    It's probably not that simple, though. 

    Certainly, there’d have to be Jewish ghosts.  Would a Catholic work then?  A crucifix would have no effect on a Yiddish evil spirit, I’m sure.  Maybe a Star of David?
  
    I gotta think, for a Jewish ghost, you’d need a rabbi. 
  

"I should be afraid of holy water?  
You sprinkle some on me, you're cleaning it up.  
What am I looking like?  The maid?"

    “So, Mr. Fancy-pants, you think you’re so special you can come in here and terrorize these nice people?  Stop being such a big shot, get your coat, and scram, ya schmuck, ya. And don’t forget to wipe your feet.”

   Voila!  Ghost is banished to eternal oblivion.  Or Miami.  Which may be the same thing. 

    Plus, what about Muslim ghosts?  How would even know your ghost was a Muslim?  Would you have a shoe thrown at your head in the middle of the night?

    Yes, I resisted the predictable "beheading" crack and went with "shoe."  You're welcome.

      How ‘bout Mormon ghosts?  I wouldn’t think that’d be so bad.  They’d probably only possess your bicycles. 

"I have some literature for you to read.  

As soon as I park this thing."

    Finally, how would you get rid of an atheist ghost?  Surely there have to be some.  Maybe all you’d need to say is, “You don’t believe in me?  Well, I don’t believe in you.  Swear to God.”  Problem solved.
  
    Just to be on the safe side, better keep the Vatican on speed dial, though.