Supernatural powers... just visiting

by Ryan Mac Donald
Editor in Chief

"What's your name?" Answer: E-N-Z-A-R. As I sat in the lobby of my dormitory a few nights ago, a Ouija board spelled out 'Enzar' to my friends and me while we played the infamous board game. And as I sat with chills running down my spine, I could not help but think about Whoppi Goldberg's character in the movie "Ghost" when she utters the unforgettable phrase, "Molly, you in danger girl."

Her pitch and delivery of those words were enough to make me believe that supernatural powers have the ability to contact humans on earth.

To this day, I remain frightened by the idea of dead beings. Even though lately, I have begun to become very fond of toying around with what is "out" there.

I am now in danger.

For the past several nights, close to the stroke of midnight, I bring out the spirits of Ouija, the popularized board game that allows its players to contact "other" mediums as a game piece spells words and phrases onto a board.

Our routine: We meet in the lobby of my dormitory, light candles, munch on candy and get the giggles.

Then, after we settle down, we make our gallant attempts at contacting the supernatural. Maybe we should be taking this venture more seriously. But, we do not.

Suffice it to say, after numerous futile attempts with the board game, we have finally discovered what and who is living in our dorm building. His (or her, depending on the planet it is from) name is Enzar and he likes to play with us.

Actually, he knows all of our names and where we sleep and, most frighteningly, where we live.

Yikes!

It gives us great excitement when the plastic, oval-shaped game piece suddenly becomes alive and glides across the surface of the board. We become ignited with joy, like small children at Disneyland.

Soon, we cannot believe our eyes.

"Are you moving it, because I swear it's not me?" is something we ask each other, even though we know that none of us would mess with the ultimate power of Ouija.

Scared as we may be, we devote ourselves to one hour of Ouija board per night. We stare at it and ask questions. We sit in silence, concentrating very hard, until it starts to move.

Though some may call our practices ridiculous and sacrilegious, our fascination with those "out" there is not a lonely practice. There are many people who believe in the dead, and some believe that it is our responsibility as humans to make connections with the stories behind the stories, like Jonathon Edwards, the host of the television show "Crossing Over." Everyone has the capability to contact those who are no longer alive, he says.

Edwards, who has slowly become a pop culture phenomenon, has his own television show and several specialty books that deal with his power.

Edwards' technique of contacting dead relatives draws crowds of hundreds. He says that everyone has the ability to do what he does, and in light of recent events, I have begun to believe his sentiments.

I am very certain that Enzar is something who is there to watch over my every move. I am sure he is helping even write this column.

(Uh... I do not think I wrote that last sentence. Seriously, dude, that was not my thought. I am freaking out.)

Ok, I may still remain a little uncertain about the realistic probability of this plastic toy actually working. But he knew my name, man. I guess I never really have thought about speaking with those who are out there. (I wonder if Osama bin Laden would have anything to say to me. Errr... I mean is he even dead?)

Denying the spirits of those who are no longer alive is not my intention. I use the Ouija because I believe those who have unfinished business on Earth stay around to take care of their business.

I suggest everyone to give this game a little gander and see who is watching out for you. Maybe there is an Enzar for everyone.

Ryan MacDonald, a senior journalism major, is editor in chief of the Campus Times. He can be reached by e-mail at macdonar@ulv.edu.