{"id":26866,"date":"2016-11-05T11:05:12","date_gmt":"2016-11-05T18:05:12","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/franklycurious.com\/wp\/?p=26866"},"modified":"2016-11-04T20:29:54","modified_gmt":"2016-11-05T03:29:54","slug":"psychic-twitter","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/franklycurious.com\/wp\/2016\/11\/05\/psychic-twitter\/","title":{"rendered":"How to Be an Awesome Psychic on Twitter!"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"CriswellWhen I was a kid, I was very interested in a lot of really silly things. I loved the film Chariots of the Gods?<\/em> I even read the book and two of its sequels: Gods from Outer Space<\/em> and The Gold of the Gods<\/em>. Also, I was really into In Search of…<\/em>, although long before its run was over I had seen the light. But all that stuff — Bigfoot, UFOs, the Bermuda Triangle — I loved into my middle school years. One thing I never went in for were the psychics.<\/p>\n

Part of this was that I was into magic — as in slight of hand, conjuring — the art form. And psychics were such obvious frauds. That was especially true for people like Uri Geller and Kreskin — men who were standard mentalists (a form of performance magic) — who insisted that what they did was “real” instead of just tricks.<\/p>\n

Celebrity Psychics<\/h2>\n

Even more pathetic were the newspaper and television psychics. At eight years old, I had them pegged. I always like what The Amazing Criswell says in the movie Ed Wood<\/em>, “It’s horseshit… Eddie, there’s no such thing as a psychic. People believe my folderol because I wear a black tuxedo… Eddie, we’re in show biz. It’s all about razzle-dazzle. Appearances. If you look good, and you talk well, people will swallow anything.” That’s what these people were.<\/p>\n