Censorship and Ouija Boards

Greetings, Doods and Doodettes!

Welcome to another edition of Doodle Doods, the only web-comic brought to you by a couple of angry high-schoolers planning on world domination from the inside of a smelly basement.

So, what did you think of Schooly McShooty's extra-gory debut? Is it the ultraviolent laugh riot you've been waiting for? Well, the school administration certainly didn't appreciate it. As if last week's little censorship incident wasn't enough, our Physics teacher caught us testing character designs during class and sent us to the Principal's office AGAIN! We weren't even bothering anyone this time - we kept all the freaky stuff inside the sketchbook. Besides, it's not like we had anything better to do. Are we just supposed to stare at the ceiling in silence while we wait for the dumb kids to stumble their way through piss-easy acceleration formulas?

Long story short, the school's latest attempt at recreating the Spanish Inquisition resulted in William getting transfered to the other sophomore class on the far side of the building. Can you believe that? These are just drawings, people! But fear not, we don't plan on stopping our artistic collaboration. In fact, these silly attempts at censorship have only strengthened our resolve, and we'll be making even more provocative comics in the future - it just might take a little longer now that we can only exchange ideas between classes and after school.

There's a silver lining to this predicament, however, as I seem to have picked up a couple of new readers who came up to me during Literature Class and asked about what I was writing. Hi Victor and Marianne! Now you know why I'm always scribbling in my notebook whenever Mrs. Borges tells us to read in silence so she can recover from a hangover.

That's about it as far as news goes, but William and I did have one noteworthy adventure during the weekend and I think it's worth sharing. Like I mentioned last time, he's really into weird online forums and books about the occult, so he asked me if I'd be okay with trying a Ouija board with him. As you're probably aware by now, I'm a pretty rational guy, but I decided to humor him because I had nothing else going on.

So we make a base and a crooked planchette out of cardboard and William explains to me how modern Ouija boards are about as paranormal as a game of Monopoly, but "planchette writing" goes back thousands of years as a form of primitive necromancy. Like, from the moment that human beings invented the written word, they've been trying to use it get messages from the other side. His little speech reminded me of something that Mrs. Borges said once, about how the invention of writing allowed us to keep ideas alive even after the people who came up with them were gone, meaning that reading old books is kind of like communicating with the dead.

Anyway, I finishing filling out the board (in beautiful penmanship, I might add) and we set everything up on an old wooden table that we normally use to play MtG in William's Mom's basement. Then we lit a candle, turned off the lights and placed our hands on the planchette.

I didn't really expect anything to happen, but I still sat there in the dark and waited patiently.

And wouldn't you know, it? I eventually felt the planchette move as it began to spell something out, with both William and I swearing that we weren't the ones moving it. And since there's no point in pretending otherwise because Will would simply spill the beans in the comments: yes, I was scared out of my mind. I may or may not have let out a little yelp. Are you happy now? 

You're probably curious about what eldritch wisdom the mysterious spirit dislosed to us mere mortals, but I have to warn you that it's quite the doozy. Here's what It said:

J-U-L-A-M-I

Yes, Julami.

Will and I burst out laughing like drunk hyenas once we finished spelling it. It took a full five minutes for us to recover, and then we heard the door open as the lights turned on and something far worse than a ghost came stomping down the stairs. It was William's Mom asking us if we were getting high in her basement. But before we could answer, the lightbulb above us exploded and left us in darkness again.

All we could say was: "Thanks, Julami!"

Then we started laughing again. William's Mom must have thought we were insane.

I know it sounds silly now, but I swear it was the funniest thing ever - you just had to have been there to fully appreciate why we laughed until our bellies ached. I guess it's not something that can be conveyed through words.

After we replaced the lightbulb, William explained the real reason why he wanted to try this out. Apparently, he read on one website that Ouija Boards work by allowing our subconscious to communicate with us through imperceptable micro-movements in our hands, but then another site claimed that the boards are actually contacting powerful supernatural entities posing as human spirits. He just wanted to know which one was the truth. I don't know if I buy any of that, but I wish he had warned me about before asking me to join him.

Anyway, the whole situation got me thinking of this song: 

Well, I think that brings us to the end of today's rant. Tune in next week for even more rambling, as well as the next installment in the misadventures of Schooly McShooty. In the meantime, don't forget to blame Julami for all of your minor inconveniences.

Chainsaw Cheers,

- Robby

PS: No, Julami is not a demon name. I Googled it. Just in case.