What if they held a conspiracy theory and everybody laughed at it?
Conspiracy theorists have no imagination -- and way too big a sense of self-importance. They take themselves far too seriously. This is one reason they create and then buy into conspiracy theories so big and rich that they could double as Washington, DC, our National Circus on Wheels, which makes about the same kind of sense that those conspiracy theories do. You can prove anything if you just ignore enough data -- and if you take it seriously.
Scaring yourself silly over the Horrible Evil All-Encompassing Universal Galactic Conspiracy of the Hell Nazis From the Filth Dimension is like believing in the silliest stories in the tabloids, the Elvis-pregnant-by-Sasquatch-Batboy-will-officiate-at-wedding! and Preacher-explodes-in-pulpit! sorts of stories. Such conspiracy theories are just ideational equivalents of Rube Goldberg machines: poke them in just the right place with a stick and over they go, collapsing like a house of cards in a high wind.
It's not that conspiracies, plural, headed by a lower-case "c," don't exist. They certainly do -- otherwise there wouldn't be a term in our legal codes to refer to them. And some of them, as history shows, have had horrific impacts on everyone around them. And, of course, it's always nice to have George Soros to kick around when we need to and they won't let us use the cat. But the Conspiracy, the one with a capital "C" and a singular ending, is a nightmare put together by a committee, albeit frequently only a committee of one, then turned over to Grindhouse Productions to make a movie of it -- which, when completed, is shown in a movie house that doesn't even sell you popcorn and soda pop to take care of your potboiler-induced munchies.
If you think that "Snake Charmer" Bill, the guy with that harem of female assassins and the mastermind behind the Bride's death, is the Evil Galactic Overlord that runs everything, then I can see why creating and embracing conspiracy theories is your thing. Otherwise . . . I can't imagine anything so embarrassing in all my life! Instead of being the Buck-Naked Emperor, you're the Emperor Wearing the Entire Contents of the Local Salvation Army Store, All At Once! I mean, I'm sure it's a really pretty theory, but you really don't want to wear it in public, especially not on the Internet, where everybody has a chance to check it out and see just how wildly gauche it is, like a convention of clowns on LSD who just got attacked by someone working in their Costume Department flying on bath salts.
Me, I'll stick to reading about the end-Permian mass extinction -- at least that is well-documented, and there's some real meat to it.
Scaring yourself silly over the Horrible Evil All-Encompassing Universal Galactic Conspiracy of the Hell Nazis From the Filth Dimension is like believing in the silliest stories in the tabloids, the Elvis-pregnant-by-Sasquatch-Batboy-will-officiate-at-wedding! and Preacher-explodes-in-pulpit! sorts of stories. Such conspiracy theories are just ideational equivalents of Rube Goldberg machines: poke them in just the right place with a stick and over they go, collapsing like a house of cards in a high wind.
It's not that conspiracies, plural, headed by a lower-case "c," don't exist. They certainly do -- otherwise there wouldn't be a term in our legal codes to refer to them. And some of them, as history shows, have had horrific impacts on everyone around them. And, of course, it's always nice to have George Soros to kick around when we need to and they won't let us use the cat. But the Conspiracy, the one with a capital "C" and a singular ending, is a nightmare put together by a committee, albeit frequently only a committee of one, then turned over to Grindhouse Productions to make a movie of it -- which, when completed, is shown in a movie house that doesn't even sell you popcorn and soda pop to take care of your potboiler-induced munchies.
If you think that "Snake Charmer" Bill, the guy with that harem of female assassins and the mastermind behind the Bride's death, is the Evil Galactic Overlord that runs everything, then I can see why creating and embracing conspiracy theories is your thing. Otherwise . . . I can't imagine anything so embarrassing in all my life! Instead of being the Buck-Naked Emperor, you're the Emperor Wearing the Entire Contents of the Local Salvation Army Store, All At Once! I mean, I'm sure it's a really pretty theory, but you really don't want to wear it in public, especially not on the Internet, where everybody has a chance to check it out and see just how wildly gauche it is, like a convention of clowns on LSD who just got attacked by someone working in their Costume Department flying on bath salts.
Me, I'll stick to reading about the end-Permian mass extinction -- at least that is well-documented, and there's some real meat to it.