Another Bloody Ouija Board Story
And this is entirely true in every aspect, I assure you.

The newest building of my boarding school was 150 years old, and referred to as The New House.

In its entirety the school was an archetype of the neo-gothic style; all heavy stonemasonry, gargoyles, and long, thin windows through which the sun shone weakly. The wooden floors and panelled walls of the corridors echoed resoundingly, and were chilly even in mid summer. The ceilings were vaulted and beamed, and the whole place played quite the backdrop for a lightning strike during thunderstorms on dark winter's evenings.

Run by monks, after 9pm prayers they would patrol the corridors with their hoods up, and woe would indeed betide anyone caught by them, for punishment was invariably corporal and severe.

Thus it was the obvious setting in which to do an ouija board.

One Saturday evening, having managed to smuggle in our weekly beer and cigarette stash and take it over to the chapel, we ascended to the organ room, and set about our task.

One lad - the creative, but definitely not gay one - had rather lovingly created a board for us, carving it with his penknife, and including the Yes, No, and Goodbye as well. A glass nicked from the refectory was produced, and our pinkies duly proffered and placed lightly upon it.

We enquired if anyone was there, and, since no result was immediately forthcoming, the beers started going down, cigarettes were smoked, and silliness ensued. The ouija board was offered M&Ms, farts were lit, and generally a fun time started happening.

As the evening drew on, stories started to be told, and our mood levelled. We decided to have another crack, and once again our little fingers placed on the glass. This time the glass moved immediately, before anyone had even asked a question.

“Quem quantam”

was immediately spelled out.

“OK … “ we said, “Who did that? Was it you, Mike? You do Latin.”

“I haven’t done Latin since prep school” said Mike, “I don’t know what is.”

“Nick? You’re clever.”

Nick looked as blank as the rest of us, “Not me” he replied, sincerely.

“OK … erm … OK … who is it?“

“6” came the response, to our increasingly pale faces.

Rupert bricked it, and suddenly threw the glass across the room “FUCK. THIS.” he said, and strode out of the room.

Disturbed, we decided to split. The night was still relatively young, and Nick and I repaired to his room to smoke and listen to tunes.

Suddenly in burst Rupert, pale. “OK, this is getting a bit weird now. My curtain just blew over my desk lamp and nearly set on fire.”

“Well that’s a breeze for you” was our reply, “It’s windy outside.”

“Yes, but my window wasn’t open.”

“Alright” we agreed, “that’s quite odd. Have a cigarette and sit down.”

After smoking, we decided to find Mike again, and a comrade instructed us that he’d gone to the chapel to play on the organ (quiet at the back, you lot). Off we went to the chapel, to find Mike outside, smoking, and also looking pale. “What’s up, Mike?” we enquired, offering him a cigarette.

“In there.” He said, indicating the chapel. “there’s a tramp, and the glass is in a neat pile.”

We decided to investigate, so in we went and sure enough, there was a tramp lying on a bench at the back, snoring, and the glass was indeed in a neat pile in the middle of the floor.

Well, you might say, it’s obvious enough – the tramp had swept it up. You’re probably right.

But it was the next morning that struck us as somewhat bizarre. After mass, we found one of the older monks – the Latin teacher – and asked him, “Father, what does "Quem quantam" mean?”

“Why do you ask, boy?” he said, “It’s not something you play about with.”

“Just wondering, Sir – came across it in a book.”

“What book?” asked, a little roughly.

“Erm … a history book, Father. About the rise of The Church.”

“Well” he said tentatively, “I’m surprised it would be in there. It means “Who and how much?””
( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Fri 8 Apr 2011, 11:25, 39 replies)

Who and how much what now?
I'm a little confused by the last line.
(MJPerry was crude but clickable at, Fri 8 Apr 2011, 11:35, closed)

^
Was it the ghost of a tramp-fucking whore or something?
( Wet-chinned bag shanker Cannot parse Wogan, Fri 8 Apr 2011, 11:36, closed)

I dont really get it. unless its the punchjline to a joke I've missed. If it's a completely true story, I could suggest that the bit ""he studied Latin"-"oh, but I havent done it for years and don't know what it means"" does make it pretty obvious what happened. I mean, is it ghosties, or was it the bloke who pretends taht he doesnt remember any latin? hmmmm
(clinteastwoodbradfield, Fri 8 Apr 2011, 11:39, closed)

I'm still very good friends with him.
He didn't have a clue what it meant.
( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Fri 8 Apr 2011, 11:41, closed)

Selling one's soul?

( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Fri 8 Apr 2011, 11:40, closed)

I don't get the bit at the end
either.
(apeloverage committed the vile act of onanism on, Fri 8 Apr 2011, 13:30, closed)

The ghost of an Opus Dei
albino hitman?
(bROKEN aRROW PUA HVI Master, Fri 8 Apr 2011, 11:39, closed)

well since spirits don't actually exist, ouija boards dont do anything, and one of your mates studied Latin, its pretty obvious that its your mate wot done it.
(clinteastwoodbradfield, Fri 8 Apr 2011, 11:43, closed)

Thus spake the authority on metaphysics.
Cheer up - it's a beautiful day.
( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Fri 8 Apr 2011, 11:44, closed)

so clearly you must have a bit of metaphysical knowledge that I don't have which demonstrates that spirits might exist?
I'm pretty sure that I'm on a solid footing when I say they definitely don't exist
(clinteastwoodbradfield, Fri 8 Apr 2011, 11:48, closed)

Listen, lad, it's only a bit of fun, there's nothing to get upset about.
Really. So you're an atheist - well done I'm very impressed good for you being so sure of your convictions.
( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Fri 8 Apr 2011, 11:51, closed)

not upset at all, just didnt get the story, and was struck by how blindingly obvious the source of the ouija creepiness was, considering that you yourself mentioned that one of the participants knew Latin
(clinteastwoodbradfield, Fri 8 Apr 2011, 11:55, closed)

Next up
Santa doesn't exist, the tooth fairy is your parents, and everyone dies in the end.

Music is but maths, beauty is just pattern recognition, and love just biochemistry.

How joyful.
( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Fri 8 Apr 2011, 11:59, closed)

"Music is but maths, beauty is just pattern recognition, and love just biochemistry"

no real need for the "but" and "just" there, is there? don't see a problem with seeing beauty in real terms rather than spiritual ones, what's wrong with a materialist approach in that sense?

I would wager that most of the people who have created beautiful music and art have done it through understanding of the maths and the patterns, rather than by a vague "spiritual" response, but I digress.

Just didn't understand your story is all, the tramp at the end didnt seem to relate to anything so thought I had missed something, and it seemed like it should be clear even to you taht your mate was behind the Latin quote.
(clinteastwoodbradfield, Fri 8 Apr 2011, 12:04, closed)

Seriously, lighten up.
You don't have a point to prove. It's only a bit of fun - it's not like I'm burning women at the stake for being witches.

If you didn't get the story, you didn't get the story - never mind - I'm used to writing and saying stuff that goes right over people's heads - it's a curse.

But pissing all over it just makes you look like a petulent teenager.
( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Fri 8 Apr 2011, 12:10, closed)

No.
He doesn't sound petulant. He pointed out that there was a decent explanation for what you experienced, which doesn't involve invoking spirits. You then bizarrely extrapolated that he must be miserable and trying to suck the joy out of everything. I don't see how that follows.

If you need to invoke metaphysical bollocks to see beauty or meaning in anything I'd suggest that it's your problem. Not his. There's no need to get stroppy about it.
(flimflam_machine, Fri 8 Apr 2011, 12:22, closed)

See below.
"Creepy stories" is hardly a set up for sirrius scientific discussion of explainable phenomena, is it?
( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Fri 8 Apr 2011, 12:27, closed)

No
But it would help if the story made some sort of sense (most of the replies have been along the "I don't get it" line) and didn't include in it the information that clearly showed why it wasn't really all that creepy.
(flimflam_machine, Fri 8 Apr 2011, 12:29, closed)

OK I'm very sorry for wasting your time and ruining your day.

( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Fri 8 Apr 2011, 12:32, closed)

Well
One of you is certainly behaving like a petulant teenager.
The other is actually writing rather articulately and interestingly. If you prefer to think that you're the "other" rather than the "one", that's your privilege.
(snopesthetruth, Fri 8 Apr 2011, 16:59, closed)

Especially as the Ouija board is a parlor game invented in the 1890s
designed to let men and women engage in risque discussions without social censure.
With no association with the 'talking boards' of earlier spiritualists.
( chenobble rocking his explorer beard on, Fri 8 Apr 2011, 12:12, closed)

wasnt pissing over it, its just that when you say "my mate definitely didnt know what it meant" it does encourage the more sceptical to cast doubt, because you cant just take at face value that a ouija board spelled out a latin phrase with no input from the participants. If you'd said "well, my mate probably did it, but it still freaked us out at the time" that would have been fair enough
(clinteastwoodbradfield, Fri 8 Apr 2011, 12:21, closed)

Thanks I'll take that into consideration - next time I'm posting a creepy story
I'll be sure to preface it with "ALL OF THE BELOW IS ENTIRELY DUE TO RATIONAL, EXPLAINABLE PROCESSES OF WHICH I WAS UNAWARE AT THE TIME."

just in case anyone might start thinking that ghosts might exist.
( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Fri 8 Apr 2011, 12:25, closed)

So Mike's idea of laying low from corridor-prowling monks
is to go and play the organ?

I'm assuming that there's a film reference here that I'm missing...
( Enzyme is powered by sunlight, Fri 8 Apr 2011, 12:26, closed)

It was pretty early. I can't remember what time it was, it was dark, but we were still in the realms of moving about freely.

( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Fri 8 Apr 2011, 12:28, closed)

willies delivered
I did a ouija board believing it all to be bunkum. It came out with a 'one of you will die tonight' heaps of spooky fun being had. Someone asked who was going to die and it spelled out 'frazer' and that's when the fun stopped. None of my friends were called Frazer apart from me, it was my middle name a name which none of my friends knew, inside I started crying. That was the end of the game and normal service of drinking and smoking returned, laughing, joking but inside, secretly shitting myself.
It took about two hours until that cunt of a friend called me Frazer to my face, I guess my secret middle name was not such a secret after all and that the only reliable truth in life is that everyone is a cunt, even your best friend.
( spingers, Fri 8 Apr 2011, 12:28, closed)

why be so arsey about it? its just that your story isn't creepy at all, unless the reader accepts that spirits exist. Fucking about with a ouija board has been done by just about everyone, and you didn't have particularly dramatic results from your ouija board experience, so there isnt even a sense created of "well I dont believe it, but I must admit thats a bit weird" To be honest, to begin with I really wasn't being pedantic or getting on a materialist high horse, I just honestly thought you had omitted something from your story that would have made the point clearer
(clinteastwoodbradfield, Fri 8 Apr 2011, 12:38, closed)

I think you're replying to the wrong post again.

( Wet-chinned bag shanker Cannot parse Wogan, Fri 8 Apr 2011, 12:47, closed)

so I did.
(clinteastwoodbradfield, Fri 8 Apr 2011, 12:51, closed)

Well it's just that I got the impression that by stating clearly
"since spirits don't exist" you were being rather reductive and, in doing so, not only missing the point of "Creepy!", but by very deliberately pointing this out, pissing on the story.

If it's no good, it's no good - the world will still turn - but it came across as deliberately destructive of my effort - in a similar vein to telling people the end of a movie or book.

So yes - I got arsey about it.
( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Fri 8 Apr 2011, 12:56, closed)

Sorry, they do exist. I didn't mean to upset you.
(clinteastwoodbradfield, Fri 8 Apr 2011, 13:15, closed)

Quantum ghosts
both exist
and don't.
( Blind Meach Cautiously optimistic, Fri 8 Apr 2011, 13:23, closed)

Hahahaha

( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Fri 8 Apr 2011, 13:25, closed)

I have never claimed they do exist.
It was the militancy of it.

Preachy atheism is just as annoying as preachy theism, particularly when delivered with killjoy harmonics.
( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Fri 8 Apr 2011, 13:25, closed)

Militancy? What? For not taking your story at face value? Your story implicitly asked the reader to believe your take on events, including your faith that the former Latin student didn't know Latin. What exactly is militant about enquiring a bit further?

There is a story posted since this about a little girl who claimed to see a woman in black. That story doesn't make any claims about ghosts and it credits us with being able to see it as either a ghost story or a story about childrens ability to be quite freaky at times, so it works. You have pretty much called me Richard Dawkins for not going "wow" about a story involving a drunk Latin student and a Latin phrase coming up in a ouija board.
(clinteastwoodbradfield, Fri 8 Apr 2011, 13:34, closed)

What do you want, a medal?
Yes it was probably him, no ghosts probably don't exist.

Well done Sherlock bleedin Holmes.

Really - lighten up - IT WAS JUST A BIT OF FUN, but well done, you've successfully smashed it to the ground.
( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Fri 8 Apr 2011, 13:49, closed)

meh, you know what?
I normally like your stories vag, but this one just didn't really work. It was not unreasonable for others to ask for clarification, but you've just spat the dummy.

Disappointing.
( kappynitty doubled your entendre on, Fri 8 Apr 2011, 14:20, closed)

Killjoy & the Harmonics
Thats the new name for my band right there.

Cheers Mr V
( bane, Fri 8 Apr 2011, 13:35, closed)

You're welcome.

( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Fri 8 Apr 2011, 13:39, closed)

What?
Again with the bizarre extrapolation. Why is he an atheist? Why does his disbelief in the existence of spirits necessarily extend to a disbelief in the existence of god (it may, I don't know)? Again you're trying to paint clint as some militant, preachy, joy-sucking, materialist who must believe in nothing at all just because he pointed out the not-at-all-creepy and glaringly obvious explanation for this supposedly creepy event.

And I still don't know what the tramp has got to do with anything.
(flimflam_machine, Fri 8 Apr 2011, 15:43, closed)

After being out in the sun and being in a better mood, thought I would pop back and say that no offence was meant, but do think that the initial post was a bit convoluted and needed clarification, and that giving clarification probably involved having to play up the supernatural aspect making it all seem a bit silly and making me seem more joyless than I meant to when I was underwhelmed by it. Didn't mean to piss on your chips so am sorry, have good weekend
(clinteastwoodbradfield, Fri 8 Apr 2011, 17:22, closed)

group hug!

( kappynitty doubled your entendre on, Fri 8 Apr 2011, 18:01, closed)

Pedantry
Well at the risk of being labelled a complete cunt "quantam" means "when" or "if" "quantum" is "how much"
(RobNob, Fri 8 Apr 2011, 14:39, closed)

hehe, schoolboy err....
oh, yeah.
( kappynitty doubled your entendre on, Fri 8 Apr 2011, 15:56, closed)