Flim-Flam! Psychics, ESP, Unicorns, and Other Delusions - James Randi [139]
Nothing is funnier than the misapplication of a rigorous discipline to tasks disproportionately trivial. It is overkill. It is classic gnat-killing by sledgehammer. It is the machine-gunning of butterflies... the line between sense and nonsense is not, we think, so stark as these earnest vigilantes of science make it out to be, nor the dangers of mass popular delusion so menacing.... What has happened to their funny-bones?
I do not know who wrote that, but he must know that it infuriated more than one member of the CSICOP. That writer never saw the distraught faces of parents whose children were caught up in some stupid cult that promises miracles. He never faced a man whose life savings had gone down the drain because a curse had to be lifted. He never held the hand of a woman at a dark seance who expected her loved one to come back to her as promised by a swindler who fed on her belief in nonsense. "Nothing is funnier..."? Tell that to the academics who lost their credibility by accepting the nonsense about telepathy that came out of the Stanford Research Institute. "The machine-gunning of butterflies"? Explain that to those who spent their time and money trying to float in the air because a guru said they could. Are the "dangers of mass popular delusion" not "so menacing"? Mister, go dig up one of the 950 corpses of those who died in Guyana and shout in its face that Reverend Jim Jones was not dangerous. "What has happened to their funny-bones?" That deserves an answer. Our collective sense of humor has been dulled by the grief, frustration, and anger that comes of preaching in the wilderness. The Star, apparently, would like that wilderness to continue to be empty of rational forces.
I hope they enjoyed their big laugh.
Put Up or Shut Up
Nothing ever becomes real until it is experienced.
—John Keats
During a radio panel discussion back in 1964, I was challenged by a parapsychologist to "put your money where your mouth is," and I responded by offering to pay the sum of $10,000 to any person who demonstrates a paranormal power under satisfactory observational conditions. I have carried around with me ever since a check in that amount, immediately awardable to a successful applicant. In response to that challenge, over 650 persons have applied as claimants. Only 54 (as of this writing) ever made it past the preliminaries, and none of them ever got a nickel.
The offer is still open, and will be during my lifetime. It is stipulated in my will that if the amount is still unclaimed and available upon my death, the same offer will be made by my estate in perpetuity. The money was never safer.
The realm of the paranormal being the strange never-never world it is, the parapsychologists are now having at me because the offer has been made, not because I failed to make it! Now I am called a cheap showman who depends on theatrics to impress the public. You can't win. The nutties are so used to having it both ways that they expect it in all things. They say they'll die—and also live. When an ESP test succeeds, it proves their case; when it fails, it is called a "negative success" and also proves their case. They want scientific investigation—and then they say it's too "artificial." They complain that I won't put up my money—and call it cheap theatrics when I do.
Mind you, I decided from the beginning—when I began to get calls from a contender in Oregon asking for air fare for a flight to New York so that he could show me a few tricks—that I was not about to invest any "up front" money in the matter. Such persons must pay their own way, and do it at my convenience. But I have never refused an applicant, and never will if the offer is made seriously. Here, for those who may be interested, is my latest formal offer:
This statement outlines the general rules