People seem to have a natural interest in the occult. And Ithink it begins with our sometimes overwhelming sense of mortality. But I thinkthe appeal has broader – if not necessarily deeper – roots. We have a desire to know what we don’t know – whether it’san expedition as grand as finding the source of the Nile to a project asinauspicious as opening long-since-sealed boxes in the attic.  The speculation of the supernatural can satisfy thisparticular inclination twice over. Not only are the folkloric causes a matterof mystery, but the alleged effects can be equally bizarre. It is, after all,paranormal.  And then, of course, the unknown aspect of the occult canscare us. But, why does it follow that this would attract our interest ratherthan repulse us?  A heightened state of physical and mental awareness can bearoused by fear. In turn, I suspect this sense of awareness is physicallypleasing – like a drug that satisfies our more animalistic instincts that areseldom exercised in our daily life. Consider the idea of “fight or flight” that many of us learnabout in a basic psychology class. How often do we really experience thatcondition? In my daily life it is extremely rare. In fact, I’m not sure that Ihave ever fully felt it. I would wager to say that most of my peers wouldindicate a similar lack of threatening stimulus. But, note how we feel when confronted with thoughts of theoccult – even though they are often through a vicarious situation like a bookor film. Again, our own mortality naturally renders us interested. Our desireto know the unknown draws us in. And the possibly resulting fear is – in somesense – satisfying.  Consider this short, personal account as a bit of anecdotalevidence for my suspected theory. It happened to me just a matter of days ago. As I returned to my room after the last class of the day, Ipassed my window before reaching the door to my hall. I do this several times aday. But, for some reason, on this particular day, my attention was suddenlyattracted when, in my peripheral vision, I thought I saw some of my room’scontents re-positioned.  Of course, when I looked more closely I discovered thateverything was in order. So, I proceeded toward the door without giving thematter a moment of further consideration. I’m an English major with a fancifulimagination anyway. But, after I went inside and opened the door to my room, Iwas confronted with another peculiar moment. My touch sensitive lamp was turning on, going through thevarious intensity modes, turning off, and repeating the process – all by someother means than my own. I simply stood in the doorway and watched it forseveral seconds. And it was around this moment that the above describedresponses struck. There was something odd. It didn’t immediately make sense. Iwas attracted to it; I wanted to know why it was behaving in such a manner. And then came the apprehension – not fear in this case –that so satisfies our senses. I quickly scanned the room; everything wasotherwise normal. I listened; there was nothing unseen stirring. The feeling was over almost as soon as it had come, but ithad been there. Then I walked over to the lamp and picked it up. Naturally,the seemingly self determined cycle stopped – just as my short lived “alertnesshigh” had a moment before. And for the record, the lamp may have been what caught myattention from outside in the first place – but why hadn’t I seen its strangebehavior when I looked in my window more closely? And, convinced that the causeof my lamp’s cycling was contact with a slight electric current flowing througha strip of metal on the wall, I have tried repeated to recreate the cause andeffects of that day. So far I have been unsuccessful.