Conspiracy Theorists Convinced That Conspiracy is a Conspiracy
A group of middle-aged, skullet wearing men gathered outside of city hall late last week. Holding signs that featured the phrase “Truth?” and the Illuminati eye, everything seemed completely rational and important. As the crowd displayed a total lack of organizational skills and screamed a bunch of different words completely out of unison, I could sense the chaos in the air.
I needed to be a part of this revolutionary moment.
The first man I approached at the protest was a certified AARP member. He, like all of the other men gathered here on this mysterious day, had a skullet. But his was slightly more unkempt and sparkled like the eye of the Unicorn. He was wearing a tie-dyed Grateful Dead/Illuminati combo t-shirt. I could smell the anger in his breath.
“Who do you work for!?” he screamed at me as his mustache flapped in the wind.
“He’s implanted with a computer chip!” he screamed to Jesse Ventura’s seventeen long-lost, identical twins.
I was able to diffuse the situation with my extensive knowledge of cryptozoology. Within seconds, I had him talking about the rally.
“We don’t even believe what they’re making us believe. And what they’re making us believe isn’t even what really happened!” For a moment, he realized that he was, in fact, a lunatic. “The conspiracy is a conspiracy! It’s not real! They’re making us believe it!”
I needed to know how the government was pulling off such an extravagant stunt.
“Come with me to our clubhouse!” he sprinted five feet down the sidewalk and stopped, out of breath. “There is no clubhouse, that’s a conspiracy too!”
I made the mistake of asking him the group’s intentions. My ears almost threw up hot wax.
“Look above you, it’s in the chem-trails. They’re hypnotizing us! Roswell, DNA, computer chips, missing socks. The Illuminati owns your urine! They own everything! Why do they want us to believe this? I’ll tell you how they’re doing it! Airplanes that fly! Radio waves! Nuclear reactors! The board game Battleship!” he was almost crying. “They implanted a computer chip in our brains when we were sleeping! They’re controlling our thoughts!”
I asked him what conspiracy they were being forced to believe.
“Exactly! That’s all part of the conspiracy!” he squealed.
Ok? It didn’t look like I’d be getting an answer. I pressed harder.
“We all want answers god damn it! Why does NASCAR exist? How do magicians do their tricks? How does Little Caesars make a whole damn pizza in five minutes!? I don’t want this in my brain! Can’t you see what they’re doing to us!?”
I looked high and low. I didn’t see anything. Just as I told him that he’d be alone for the rest of his life, the police showed up.
“The movement can’t be silenced!” screamed a mustache as I tiptoed away.
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