Mark Shea had a link to an article of his that is still timely. Especially this time of year. Take a look at You Can Trust Me, I'm a Psychic. A very interesting exploration of the various ways the occult has crept into modern society. I guess I would fall into the group he describes thus, “The whole enterprise is shot through with such quackery and hokum that many people can't believe anyone takes it seriously.”

But some people do. For them:

For the irony is that when we seek security by placing our faith in power and self rather than in the love of the Blessed Trinity, we necessarily find ourselves, sooner or later, in a universe of fear -- fear of greater powers who believe in themselves more strongly still. This is the source of a zillion schemes for appeasing spirits, dealing with hexes and the whole complex jungle of superstition which is rife, not only in pre-Christian paganism, but in post-Christian supermarket checkstand culture, as well. Which is why, in the midst of her promises to deliver you into a future of peace and plenty, Jeanne Dixon's Web page features a promise to remove spells. It's a god eat god world.

And my advice? Never break open A Magic Eight-Ball to find out what is inside.
There is a twenty-sided object (it has a name; they mentioned it on Jeopardy once) surrounded by a cup or so of inky indelible blue liquid. The force needed to break the ball open spatters the blue liquid in all directions, making the room look like CSI examines a murdered Smurf.
This is true. There were still blue stains on the laundry room wall when we moved out.
(Ten years perspective makes me thankful that the interested parties decided the laundry room was a better venue for this experiment, rather than the dining room or kitchen. At least the laundry had a floor drain. And mother’s screams were muted coming from the basement.)