Predicting More Predictions
Of course my predcition for election day was100% correct! Need you ask? The proof is all there printed out in the sealed envelope, honest. But really when we drill down to the bottom line, who cares? Since right now the tabloid media isn’t exactly busting down my door for my visions, the particular sealed envelope in question may have to remain sealed and left as a sort of time capsule to be revealed by some future generation. I don’t even mind taking my accolades posthumously if that’s the way it has to be. Look at how well Nostradamus has done with his rants.
Now if I had been taped beforehand on the air with The Skeptologists, this whole scenario might have turned out differently… Such is the plight of the unknown psychic: The discerning soothesayer has to have a platform to hurl from. Without that, there’s no place for anything to stick to. Without a following, a meatheaded television interviewer or a publisher, there’s no telling how many fantastic visions and prognostications go completely ignored by the masses. And what a shame that is right? I find most of them that I read hilariously surrealistic. Most psychics put out such ridiculous tripe, it’s like they are not even trying. Give me a break. What good does it do to predict the end of the world – again? Fortunately or unfortunately depending on which side of the fence you are sitting on, there’s always someone somewhere publishing these space-fillers. It could be The National Enquirer, The Weekly World News or possibly even Skeptic magazine. In 1991 the predictions printed in the Enquirer turned out to be only 1.1% correct. A chimp could do better than that. Now with the Internet, there’s no end to the possibilities. Predictions are like finding faces in clouds or patterns on a shag rug. They are all over the place once you start looking for them. There’s no limit to the things anyone can predict and with so much crap out there, it’s possible one or two of them might by the laws of probability actually come true. I only missed predicting that whole Madonna divorce story by a week or two. Damn. Timing is everything. Or is it belief that is everything? I frequently get the two mixed up.
But again, who cares a fig what a person like myself might predict anyway? I could claim to be Jeanne Dixon re-incarnated, but she was not that good at predicting either. She got that one JFK hit right … big deal. How does one get a track record in the predicting business anyway? Is it called “luck?” – which leads to another irritating little belief we might one day examine…
In the meantime, I’ll make a short list of some of the things that “come to mind” and get them ready just in case we hit prime time. Why not? Dogs and pet predicions are aways popular or maybe something about the British royals finally returning to their grey reptilian roots might have to be dredged up if I can’t think of anything better. Right now nobody’s asking so I’ll stick with the “rock-star fall” bit for a few more days. BTW: With self-fulfilling prophecies being what they have sometimes been known to be and in the rare instance that dear old Ozzy is reading this right now, mind the step mate.
“I almost had a psychic girlfriend but she left me before we met.” – Steven Wright