You can’t fight ghost town hall. Its power will remain shrouded in mystery.
Here is the ghost town comic I would have written yesterday if I had thought of it then. Admittedly, the last line I totally ripped off from the world’s stupidest joke, which The Man told me on the way home from being stranded in the Costco parking lot today. Fortunately, the Otter saved us, because he groks cars, and we were able to ride home in comfort, and The Man could tell me a stupid joke the set up to which I already forget. But it nicely complements the rest of the comic, which I swear I had sketched out before he told me the joke.
Anyway, I assume this is the sort of thing that goes in ghost town hall meetings. Who knows? In 2003, the Rabbit and I were in, Kutná Hora, a city in the Czech Republic famous for its lovely and surprising ossuary, also known as The Bone Church. It’s a small chapel beautifully, exquisitely, minutely decorated with the bleached white remains of 50,000 dead human beings. Our tour guide, who was an overall despicable person, kept trying to hustle everyone through, even though seeing the ossuary was the only reason we went to Kutná Hora in the first place. He thought it was hilarious to suggest that if we didn’t get back on the bus right that minute, we would be locked in the church overnight. With all the ghosts.
We would have been fine with that. It’s a really pretty church and they didn’t give us half enough time to look at it.
“If I’d been dead for 800 years,” the Rabbit said, “I’d be thrilled that people were still coming around to see me.”
What can I say? The Man is very fond of his vacuum cleaners.
Like most normal human beings, I really do not appreciate strangers attempting to corral me into a discussion of their philosophical beliefs. I assure you, it’s 2014 and if I have any questions about a particular book or its interpretation, I will most certainly Google it to learn more. I am not waiting around for random people to offer their opinions. Whether or not I’m in my house, I don’t want to be approached by strangers trying to sell me things, even intangible things.
I did have a friend who welcomed a certain type of witness into his home. A certain denomination sent a few young and attractive girls out to knock on doors and ask random people if they wanted to talk about their very particular spiritual beliefs. My friend was sufficiently interested in religion to keep the conversation going, but I gather he was far more interested in the fact of these girls being young and attractive. They asked if they could return to continue the discussion, to which he gladly agreed. They showed up a few more times before their supervisors correctly gleaned that my friend had no interest in converting, at which point, they assigned him some male visitors, after which he was no longer interested in discussing their religion.
Anyway, in reality The Man does seem to have a powerful attachment to that Dyson. Those things are powerful. I have no doubt a Dyson could contain an incorporeal spirit, although I find the idea of a haunted vacuum cleaner pretty frightening. Can you imagine if it just turned itself on and started roaring around your house at night? That’s a heart attack right there.
You’ve got to have faith f-faith f-faith, I guess.
Here I’m just saying 2 things, the first of which is that, no matter how much you’re willing to believe in an abstract concept because someone told you there was something special about believing without evidence, you can’t expect everyone in the world to throw their grounding in reality out the window because your belief is important to you. It’s nice if you have a belief that sustains you through difficult times. It is not nice to discriminate against people who are not sustained by that belief.
The second thing I’m saying here is that it is RUDE to knock on stranger’s doors when you don’t have business with them, and no, your belief that you should share your belief is not business. I don’t come to your house to discuss change in allele frequency or the melting of the polar ice caps. I personally think that overpopulation is the single biggest problem facing the human race, but I don’t bang on your door to make sure you’re using birth control, even though I feel very strongly that 90% of all people with children have no business procreating.
Otherwise, all I have to say about this comic is that, in panel 3, when Dragon is whistling, the tune is supposed to be the chorus for Mary Lambert’s “I Don’t Care if the World Knows What My Secrets Are,” but the only sheet music I could find online for that song cost $5, and I didn’t feel like taking the time and energy I would need to get up and pick the tune out on my stepdaughter’s keyboard, because I had a cold, and I’m not that much of a musician. Those two bars of music would have probably taken me 45 minutes. Just click the link and then you can whistle along with Dragon.