IdleBones

My Thoroughly modern Ghost

My thoroughly modern ghost, the slob.

I've been watching " Most Haunted" on telly for the last couple of weeks, in which  the presenters travel Britain to stay over night in houses known to be haunted. They make themselves at home, switch off all the lights, and wait for something to happen. Invariably, something creaks, moves, flashes or falls over and they all run around in black and white night vision, bumping into each other and scaring themselves witless. It's great entertainment. Especially in the last week coming up to Halloween when some long dead witches tried to trottle the camera man. Well, nobody likes having a camera shoved in their face, do they?

Anyway, it got me thinking, and to be honest,  I'm now a bit worried about my house. Truth is, I haven't heard any inexplicable creaks, groans, rattling chains or disimbodied voices, or seen any strange scratch marks, or hidden pentagrams behind presses in my 6 months in the house. No items of furniture have moved mysteriously in the night, or flown accross the sitting room while I'm watching Corrie. Not once have I stood a the top of the stairs and felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand up as a cold spectral hand brushes past. Just last night, for example, as I lay in bed trying to sleep, all alone in my big dark old house; bugger all happened.  It's all very suspicious indeed.

The most worrying aspect of it all is that it is a perfect house for hauntings. It's history is vague, it's pre-war, and it's in a town bloodied throughout history by civil war, and foreign invasion, not too mention the fact that the place is littered with ancient celtic burial grounds. Theres even  a graveyard not a stones throw from the front door! I have heard plenty of storys about households in the area reporting strange shapes at the bottom of gardens, cold spots in dining rooms, stautes moving, strange noises heard from within sealed rooms, dogs barking at non existant persons in doorways. I've even had it on very good authority from some fella in the pub that every easter an old lady's form is seen walking throught the graveyard to the hospital near my house, and then vanishes in the wall. It seems everyone in the area has a ghost in residence, except me, and I'm feeling very left out. There's really only one explaination for this oversight on the part of the specteral world. I have a lazy, ineffectual, or perhaps just plain old apathetic ghost. Probably the remains of an arts student who died from losing the will to get out of bed in the morning when they cancelled Blockbusters..

I've been looking into this phenomenon, and have found that I'm not alone. More and more people are becoming concerned with the lack of paranormal activity in their houses. Mr. Grogan from the cottages at the end of my street has lived in his house for over 40 years and hasn't had so much as disimbodied whisper in all that time, he tells me. Although I think he might just be saying that to make me feel better. His house is, after all, over 300 years old and it would be a shame to think it hasn't had its fair share of terrible accidents or gruesome murders in it's time.

I think I know what the problem is though. Down through the ages when pepole have reported apparitions in their houses, they have always involved seeing a tragic figure of a man in chains, or a haggard old witch, old soldiers bearing his wounds, or other figures that show signs of having had pretty rubbish time of it. Lets face it, though,  life has gotten a lot easier for the majority of us in the 21st century, so it's hardly surprising that, as far as I can make out, there have not been so many reports of fat old men rattling beer cans and clutching copies of the Star appearing at the bottoms of  stairs, or reports of gruff faceless voices grunting "what are you feckin lookin at?" from out of nowhere. Even less of them seem to be appearing in the bathroom at four in the morning making strange groaning noises and looking down the toilet. It stands to reason that the modern ghost would be the specteral remains of more contemporary people, and therefore have a few of our own modern traits. Like sitting in front of the telly drinking beer, or staying out till four in the morning and coming home covered in kebab and stinking of fags.

That must be why I've had no eveidence of my ghost. He's probably downstairs right now, slumped in the other armchair, one hand down the front of his jeans, the other still clutching the remote (that does keep going missing, now that I think of it), farting happily in a drunken slumber. It would explain some of the funny smells I keep getting in the front room too. And at night, he probably gets home a little earlier then me, (obviously, as pub opening hours were extended recently) so he's probably fast asleep on the toilet by the time I get home. And it is somtimes a little chilly in there on a Saturday night.  And it's probably him, the bastard, that keeps making a mess of the kitchen and not clearing up after himself. I'm going to have to come home early from the pub tonight, get a upturned glass and a table together and have words with the cheeky beggar.

A picture taken last night using my special, state-of-the-art night vision pencil, capturing my ghost as he appeared at closing time. The supernatural stink of garlic and herbs was so overpowering I had to take his kebab off him.

1 Comment 14.11.04 20:13, comment