Miracles vs "Miracles"

I was re-reading Plato and a Platypus Walk into a Bar... by Thomas Cathcart and Daniel Klein, two philosophically-inclined gentlemen who use humor to explain concepts and issues in philosophy.  And in the chapter on epistemology (the study of the nature of knowledge and how it's acquired) I came across something I missed on my first read of the book.  In it, it is stated that according to David Hume, the 18th century British philosopher with an empirical bent, the only reasonable grounds for believing something is a miracle is that trying to explain it any other way results in ever wilder explanations.

A "floating" leaf!  A small miracle?

O.K., Hume is one of the many revered names I encountered in the Philosophy 101 class I once took, but I must not have found much that I found fascinating in the great man's theories because I don't remember anything about him but his name;  but then, this time around something about that explanation of miracles struck me:  if all possible alternative explanations for a miracle are even more improbable that the miracle itself, wouldn't that make those alternative explanations miracles themselves?  Are there degrees of "miraculousness" -- much like  the *Degrees of Infinity in math -- and so, using **Occam's Razor, one must choose the simplest miraculous explanation?  Granted, I realize the above definition of a miracle paraphrased from the book is a gross simplification of what must have been an awesomely complex thesis, but it just seems to me that if a miracle is defined as something that breaks the familiar laws of nature, then by necessity any hypothesis that is more improbable than that miracle is simply something that breaks more laws of nature, and as long as we're allowed to break the laws of nature here, we might as well go whole hog and break as many as we can think of.

I actually wanted to pose this question to the authors through their website platoandaplatypus.com, but for some reason I kept getting the "403 error. forbidden" screen, so that was that.

A too, too prosaic explanation -- a spider's web, in this case

*Georg Cantor, the 19th century mathematician, came up with the then-shocking idea that infinity is not a single, vague idea;  that there is actually an infinite set of infinities (known as "transfinite" numbers), each being infinite but greater than the prior infinite set.  The "smallest" infinity is the set of natural numbers (the basic "counting" numbers, as in 1, 2, 3, 4, 5.., to infinity, at least in principle).  The transfinite series is itself infinite;  there is no "largest" infinity, as no matter how high you go in the series of infinitely large sets, it's always possible to create a still larger set by consolidating all the prior, smaller sets as members.

**The "rule" that when there are multiple possible explanations for a phenomenon, the simplest one that will do the job is usually the best one, named after William of Ockham -- and yes, he was a philosopher.