On Conspiracy Theories: Today, We are All Fox Mulder

When I was a younger, more naive man, were the sole domain of cranks and the mentally ill. Or so I thought. My mind has always been sharp analytically, yet it lacked wisdom, breadth and most of all experience. It was arrogant in its simplistic naiviete, prone to trusting in those who attained position and status.

My delusions, in retrospect, were astounding. None more so than this belief:

I believed that politicians, the honchos of big business and those in the were good people. Even worse, that they achieved their status through knowledge and talent.

{Yeesh. I cringe at the young Lord Feverstone’s gullibility. Twenty-five-odd years of learning “how the sausage is made” has a way of making one want to slap his former self out of pure shame for his ignorance.}

The polar opposites of those admirable captains of the benevolent machine were those who harbored theories, the resentful kooks whose worldviews were painted of the hues of their own weak minds, faults and broken dreams. I heaped my haughty derision upon those wrapped in foil, yet there was something that piqued my curiosity about them.

Perhaps it is the need of young men to at least imagine the world a more interesting place, one where intrigues, UFOs, secret societies, aliens, lizardmen, and Illuminati dancing naked in groves of trees were, if not possible, then at least fun to think about. Maybe the wackos were just as bored of everyday life as I was. Instead of burying their noses in Lord of the Rings or Dungeons and Dragons like myself, they sought outlet by doing their own LARPing by conjuring up a paranoid world that made sense of the senseless.

My Introduction to Conspiracy Land

old-time-car-radio-listening-to-conspiracy-theories

I remember driving back from college one night in my freshman year and tuning the AM band trying to find a news recap of a World Series game. I settled the dial on a station when I heard a snippet of a synthesizer-heavy piece of music. It was a song I’d been trying to find the name of for years. This was before the mass rollout of the internet and thus if the DJ didn’t tell you the name you just had to keep on hunting.

It turns out it was the bumper music to a radio show, called The theme song was called The Chase, though I didn’t discover the fact that night.

What I had found instead was treasure; I found Art Bell, he, formerly, of the home radio station out of Pahrump, Nevada, and his cool, atmospheric show full of nut jobs whom I could feel superior to and by whom I could be greatly entertained.

Listening to CTC turned into a ritual of about two years worth of ten o’clock drives home. The combination of Bell’s serious, hypnotic, Everyman voice and the topics du jour of his frequently frantic callers could almost make you see the flailing arms of the Demogorgon coming out of the fog at the fringes of your headlights. Then you’d realize it was merely a staggering bum with a bottle of Thunderbird and you chuckled at your imagination getting the better of you.

Right around that time, the X-Files became a cultural phenomenon. The Truth, capital tee, was out there and a weathered man in gray suits smoking Morleys made sure the outsider didn’t get it easily. Again, I was both excited by the conspiracy theories and rolling my eyes at how much disbelief needed to be willfully suspended.

Shining a light on the truth. The way all citizens have to in a corrupt world.
Shining a light on the truth. The way all citizens have to in a corrupt world.

There was a growing zeitgeist of institutional distrust in the fringe culture of the 90s, yet I still held to the idea that the Truth was regular, old, boring life. The American Dream was still there then. Get up, go to work, save, live a better life. What use had I for viewing life from its shadowy edges when my life was going swimmingly by playing by modern man’s rules?

The next half-decade passed and I forgot all about Coast to Coast. I got a job working at a podunk stock brokerage company in the ‘burbs. Then later at a few bigger investment banks in The City. Right around then, the naivete wore off. The more I saw of how money was made, and the ethos of the men making it, the more I was waking up to the fact that the wrong people were wielding power.

The Conspiracy of Greedy Men, not Green Men

 

There were most definitely no Anunaki, probably no UFOs, maybe, just maybe, some Illuminati were possible. But assuredly, I found out, there existed some truly awful people – human monsters – in control of the economy and government. And they were, drop by bloody drop, sucking out the life of the American middle class through inflation, making obscene bets with depositor funds, signing away our jobs via bad trade deals and immigration and tweaking interest rates to inflate asset bubbles. It was a masterful game of Oligarch Monopoly.

It was in finance where I discovered the sickening Truth: that society had devolved because of the actions of an elite few. I saw how the businessmen, politicians and the media that I trusted in my earlier years really traded favors in a series of millionaires and billionaires circle jerk sessions.

It happened thus: leftists climbed the ladder of power in government and the mainstream media in the 90s and had an agenda to push. The corporate-types cared not for ideology but profits, oh yeah!, and so turned pseudo-leftist to tag along for the good times to come. Here is the relevant process:

  • Businessmen buy favors from government for further enrichment.

 

  • Government takes in the fee to pay for reelection, grants those favors.

 

  • Media is owned by big business and revels in the statist aims of the government, and will not criticize either faction.

 

  • All three attack anyone or anything that threatens the gravy train. All three created a culture of nihilist consumerism, undermining of traditional values and the political correctness scourge to silence dissent. All three draw to it corrupt men and women just as an illuminated lamp post draws moths.

 

Don’t Believe Anything Until It’s Officially Denied

 

When I was learning to trade stocks, an old boss told me perhaps the most salient saying of modern day life and one that is particularly apropos for this article:

“Don’t believe anything until you hear it denied by a government official.”

That’s how I knew Hank Paulson and Ben Bernanke lied when they said there was no housing bubble. It’s how I knew there were no weapons of mass destruction. It’s how I know today almost everything out of the mouth of a Clinton is a lie. It’s not partisan really, there is only an Insider Party and an Outsider Party.  Corruption causes the inherent degradation of government. It dates back to Ancient Rome.

Orwell knew that to men of power the truth is fungible to their whims. To this Troika of Evil in our day, the media, government, and financial barons, all facts and data can be massaged, spun, or outright lied about by these  professional propagandists.

Around this time, mid 2000s,  I awakened to the FACT that conspiracy theories are often true. Not always. Still no lizard men, just bad people. All one had to do was follow the money and know the motivations and psychology of the conspirators to know it was just the most Biblical of sins behind it all: Greed.

Influence peddling and consolidation of power was burgeoning everywhere. Globally. A select few in the economic media caught on to the games and no one listened. As a result, we witnessed the economic train wreck beginning to end. But everyday people are not especially financially literate, and, man, are they ever too busy and distracted to notice the legerdemain of the elite. By design. If you make the citizens poorer slooooowly, through inflation and taxation, they won’t sense it at first. But when they do, they’re too tired at the end of the work day to do much about it, nor will they know who directly to blame. Especially when you have your media friends play divide and conquer for you.

And so we are burdened, us peons, with the task of taking the “truths” given to us to by the troika to ascertain the TRUTH. We are all having to deal daily in 2016 with a bombardment of misinformation and propaganda.  Forced to seek answers away from the proven fraudulent traditional channels, we elbow our way through a veritable Star Wars cantina of alternative websites. Some have the real goods. Others are run by the clinically insane or those playing P.T. Barnum. The only way we can get to the TRUTH is to use our best senses and sources who have a proven track record of integrity and accuracy. There are still a few.

The Conspiracy Denier Comes Full Circle

 

I’ve personally come full-circle. Now I’m the one who harbors conspiracy theories. I’m the crank the young me mocked. The world has become such a mess that I long to become ignorant and innocent again. I want to turn off all the news and enjoy the simple life. Listen to a sultry-voiced female DJ playing smooth rhythm and blues out of a radio station in an abandoned lighthouse. Or hang out with George Nouri, Art Bell’s replacement on Coast to Coast, and his motley, nut job listeners. But I know I can only go back to innocence the same way I can turn my graying stubble colorful again: artificially. The greatest affront to wisdom is the self-ruse.

So instead I choose to double down on reality, no matter how terrible its aspect or how little company I have along the way. I don’t blame those who haven’t swallowed the pill.  Finding happiness in life is hard enough and most people don’t have a strong enough magnifying glass to find both it and the truth. You can find both, but melancholy is its cost.

Once we’re experienced and wise, we know what we know and can’t forget it (and shouldn’t). In this day and age anyone with an analytical brain, a sense of history and a memory cannot NOT believe in conspiracy theories. Today we are all Art Bell dealing in oddities we never thought possible before and ministering to our confused fellow citizens about the endless corruptions of our elites. We all know the Truth is out there, buried in government and media lies.

Today we are all Fox Mulder. We just need to remember to balance it with some Scully, too.

 

 

 

 

 

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