For those who make their living as psychics and fortune-tellers, it can be hard to break free from the pack and find your own niche. The "gypsy with a ball" thing is seriously overplayed, and there's only so much mileage you can get out of bending silverware and 1-800 hotlines. If you want to have any hope of convincing grieving individuals that their grandmother's dying wish was for them to transfer $50,000 to your offshore bank account, you're going to need to be creative.
Solid effort, but subtlety is key here.
Here are just a few inventive methods that practitioners of the paranormal have developed to distinguish themselves from their peers. And what better way to start a discussion that's centered so much around pulling things out of your ass than by examining the practice of ...
The art of scatomancy, also known as spatalomancy, copromancy, or scatoscopy, is actually ancient in origin and was reportedly popular in Egypt during the age of pharaohs. And perhaps we might finally have an insight into why those weirdos liked wrapping people up in toilet paper so much, since scatomancy is defined as "divination by excrement."
No, I'm not going to show you a picture of a turd. So just imagine
those bubbles are corn niblets.
This "lost art" (of analyzing the toilet-bound remains of yesterday's visit to Taco Tico) surprisingly still claims a few adherents, and one such practitioner is a man named S. S. Singh. Oddly enough, while Mr. Singh's name suggests that he might hail from the mystical ashrams of India, his appearance suggests that he may not in fact be from the land of swamis and gurus after all. But perhaps there's a "Little Kingston" section of Mumbai that I'm unaware of.
The next WOW expansion will be making a strong push into the German market.
Appearing in a film called A Journey To Planet Sanity, Singh demonstrates his ability directly in front of a camera, ensuring that no surreptitious doots were kept hidden up his sleeve during the demonstration. After waving a smoking wad of rolled-up paper around in preparation for the augury to come (doing no favors for the Rasta-guy stereotype there), Singh requests that his client "go ahead and go into the restroom, and when you're done, please don't flush." After the deed is accomplished, Singh retrieves the portentous deuce, brings it out in a bowl, and places it on a mat for metaphysical examination. Then, after assuming the lotus position, running a finger along the rim, and taking several deep breaths, it's time to reveal the secrets that were almost lost to the municipal wastewater treatment plant:
This probably would have been the better time to wave that spliff (or whatever it was) around.
"You're in transition right now. The nugget suggests you support a friend or family member in a project. The log shaped like a cigar suggests leadership, strength, length, longevity."
Yeah, OK, that's straight out of the "be flattering, make high-probability guesses, and tell the customer what he or she wants to hear" cold-reading playbook. Just a bit more ... colonic. But any doubts about Singh's dedication go right down the drain when he picks up the turd with his bare hands, rolls it around like a shiny quarter he just found, and brings it to his face for a pensive whiff. After an observer expresses dismay at this unsettling turn of events, Singh becomes visibly annoyed, remarking: "You have to get into it. The stronger the aroma, the more accurate the prediction."
"For those who dine on asparagus, the enigmas of the universe hold no sway."
Once the affair is concluded, the clients thank Singh for his time and effort, but for some reason take a pass on the parting handshake.
Possibly inspired by noted troglodyte Billy Bob Thornton's purported fear of Louis XIV chairs, "psychic power consultant" Roxanne Elizabeth Usleman has found a unique way of communicating with the spirits: by talking to the random bric-a-brac cluttering up the aisles of thrift stores.
She was able to solve five murders through pit stains alone.
As a "vintage store psychic," Usleman apparently makes a relatively decent living wandering around New York second-hand shops, fondling the merchandise, and "hon[ing] in on pieces with incredible provenance," according to a Curbed article. There are all sorts of videos out there of her doing this, which follow her around as she sniffs skirts and caresses pantsuits to reveal the residual presence of personalities like Rihanna and "the ton of aura" left floating around by Sarah Jessica Parker.
As this guy's expression appears to confirm, I'm pretty sure what we're talking about here are farts.
That bit about her solving murders via calcified sweat-ghosts was a joke, but a visit to Usleman's website reveals that in addition to being a consultant to business professionals, the media, and major corporations, she's also "a psychic investigator and is sought-after to uncover previously unsolved crime cases and find missing persons." I have no idea how this ties into her ability to wring ectoplasmic gossip from moldy tube tops, but maybe part of her standard operating procedure is to rub her face in a victim's clothing, bloodhound-style. And I'm not sure how many capers she's solved, but it's probably around the same amount as the number of detectives who didn't get fired after inviting her up to snoop around the underwear drawers at active crime scenes.
"The extraordinary stress levels emanating from this thong points to a Kardashian as the culprit."
And if all that wasn't enough to a pack a resume, Usleman also claims to be a certified clinical hypnotherapist, an interfaith minister, a traditional reiki master, and that she holds a doctorate in metaphysical science. Obviously, most people in today's busy world don't have 10 minutes, let alone the two weeks necessary to get those credentials through some online bullshit factory (two weeks presumably being the time necessary for the check to clear). So you should feel absolutely no qualms forking over your cash for the opportunity to allow her to "explore your past, present, future, personal concerns, and goals and then channel the information to enable you to make empowering decisions and choices to achieve your highest purpose." Just try not to get weirded out if she asks you to bring along a laundry basket full of unmentionables for her to wallow around in while she works.
For our skidmarks are as roadmaps to the soul.