This just in:
Several conspiracy theory enthusiasts disappeared from B deck while discussing which foods on board have been ‘tampered with’ by the government. The captain blamed rough seas though the water was peaceful the entire trip. All the foods were tampered with, by the way.
There’s a special sea cruise for everybody now, including conspiracy theory enthusiasts, if that’s really what they are. If there isn’t a cruise available for your eclectic interests, I want to know who’s responsible.
I read an article about the Conspir-A-Sea Cruise in Popular Mechanics. Well, that’s the name on the cover. The magazine may have been disguised. It might have been Dog Fanciers of New England, or Manure Specialists, Inc.
You cannot trust ANY magazine. You heard it here, first.
No matter how the journalist who wrote the article tried, he could not make these cruisers sound like people you’d want working at NASA, or running the PTA. Or guarding the missile silos. We might hire them as school crossing guards.
On the other hand, Popular Mechanics writers are like doctors. Only surgery and pharmaceuticals are acceptable paths to wellness and anything else is dismissed as Hooey. A Hooey Lovers sea cruise would be fun. I suspect the journalist who wrote the article thinks all conspiracy theories are hooey, but that could be the voices in my head. They’re always insinuating themselves.
The conspiracy enthusiasts paid three grand, not including airfare and beverages, to be on this cruise, even though I heard from my voices you could get it cheaper with another travel agency.
Most of the Enthusiasts were laid up with sea sickness. Coincidence? I don’t think so. Many were too sick to attend most of the lectures. Where did the rough seas come from? I don’t believe rough seas just pop up out nowhere. Uh-uh. (Keep in mind I’m the first to hatch this theory, so when you start buying some book or tee shirt, remember that.)
These conspiracy theory enthusiasts traveled to their ship which would take them away, most probably to the Bermuda Triangle by way of two other cities. When they reached their ship, they slunk aboard dressed in heavy overcoats and mufflers. They went to rooms that were NOT the ones on their keys. We don’t know who those passengers were in the original rooms, but the whole thing turned into a real mishegoss.
The cruisers didn’t know or care who was in their rooms. They just wanted to be safe from surveillance. No one was watching them, but try telling them that. No one wants to see the intimate moments of a conspiracy theory enthusiast.
They refused to undress on board, or even at home, in case The Rapture happens unexpectedly. They don’t brush their teeth because toothpaste is an unknown quantity. They can’t find the proper wavelength on their radios to go to sleep, and they aren’t sure who to pray to. Their deities include The Illuminati, to be on the safe side.
They read unsettling books just before drifting off and are therefore unable to drift off. They can’t make love to their partners, because they’ve heard that implanted chips, inserted in all of us during a tonsillectomy when we were four, can make their way through the system and implant themselves in our spouse via bodily fluids.
The spouse will then be able to empty the joint bank account and sell the house with ‘their permission’, meaning they’ll be able to sign their spouse’s name perfectly. It’s all very complicated, and I’d advise you to not think about it too much.
I went to Wikepedia, my go-to source for all things clandestine, and read about a few of the more popular conspiracies. Many of them turned out to be true. It’s like finding out your parents were lying to you about the dangers of swallowing your gum, or whether the tooth fairy is real, or whether Santa actually does know if we’ve been bad or good.
Well, he did know about our putative naughtiness, and there really were or are, conspiracies.
The more popular one of the theories is, the more accepted it becomes. For instance, it’s a well-known fact that postal workers are indeed aliens and are reading your mail even as it’s being sorted at the post office.
Just like in the documentary, Men in Black.