psy-cho-log-i-cal (adj) 1. a. of or relating to psychology (the science of mind and behavior) b. mental 2. directed toward the will or toward the mind specifically in its conative function
From the above definition, courtesy of Webster’s New Collegiate Dictionary, one would naturally assume that the word psychological would be used, most likely even exclusively, in some context related to human beings. Right? Maybe animals at a stretch, but inanimate objects? Surely not.
Oh, but you forget we have a wonderfully adaptive language we call American English.
According to real estate lawyer Tim Grooms, the State of Arkansas has a “ghost-buster bill” that prevents sellers and agents from being sued over paranormal activity. This code protects agents who fail to disclose “any fact or circumstance or suspicion of the existence of any fact or circumstance that indicates that the real property is psychologically impacted” (emphasis mine). Arkansas law defines property that is “psychologically impacted” as any property that “was at any time suspected to have been the site of a homicide, suicide, or felony.”
Before selling a property, the seller is required to fill out a disclosure informing the selling agent about any unusual events that might affect a property’s marketability. Although ghosts aren’t necessarily spelled out in any legal clause, a representative of the Arkansas State Realtors Association explains, “If a seller tells his agent there is something floating around in there, the agent is probably obligated to tell their buyer about it.”
I think it’s really interesting that we’re not talking about terrified, psychologically impacted inhabitants, but the actual house itself. This reminds me of the opening of Shirley Jackson’s 1959 novel The Haunting of Hill House. The novel begins, “No live organism can continue for long to exist sanely under conditions of absolute reality; even larks and katydids are supposed, by some, to dream. Hill House, not sane, stood by itself against its hills, holding darkness within; it had stood so for eighty years and might stand for eighty more. Within, walls continued upright, bricks met neatly, floors were firm, and doors were sensibly shut; silence lay steadily against the wood and stone of Hill House, and whatever walked there, walked alone.” Oooooh. And it only gets better.
Well, I don’t think my house is terrified or insane, but it just might be a little depressed. I’ve noticed it’s letting itself go a little. I wonder if it needs therapy?
From the above definition, courtesy of Webster’s New Collegiate Dictionary, one would naturally assume that the word psychological would be used, most likely even exclusively, in some context related to human beings. Right? Maybe animals at a stretch, but inanimate objects? Surely not.
Oh, but you forget we have a wonderfully adaptive language we call American English.
According to real estate lawyer Tim Grooms, the State of Arkansas has a “ghost-buster bill” that prevents sellers and agents from being sued over paranormal activity. This code protects agents who fail to disclose “any fact or circumstance or suspicion of the existence of any fact or circumstance that indicates that the real property is psychologically impacted” (emphasis mine). Arkansas law defines property that is “psychologically impacted” as any property that “was at any time suspected to have been the site of a homicide, suicide, or felony.”
Before selling a property, the seller is required to fill out a disclosure informing the selling agent about any unusual events that might affect a property’s marketability. Although ghosts aren’t necessarily spelled out in any legal clause, a representative of the Arkansas State Realtors Association explains, “If a seller tells his agent there is something floating around in there, the agent is probably obligated to tell their buyer about it.”
I think it’s really interesting that we’re not talking about terrified, psychologically impacted inhabitants, but the actual house itself. This reminds me of the opening of Shirley Jackson’s 1959 novel The Haunting of Hill House. The novel begins, “No live organism can continue for long to exist sanely under conditions of absolute reality; even larks and katydids are supposed, by some, to dream. Hill House, not sane, stood by itself against its hills, holding darkness within; it had stood so for eighty years and might stand for eighty more. Within, walls continued upright, bricks met neatly, floors were firm, and doors were sensibly shut; silence lay steadily against the wood and stone of Hill House, and whatever walked there, walked alone.” Oooooh. And it only gets better.
Well, I don’t think my house is terrified or insane, but it just might be a little depressed. I’ve noticed it’s letting itself go a little. I wonder if it needs therapy?
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