One thing you can say for conspiracy theorists: we really work to see the beauty in things.
And the ugliness. Also the crazy, the sinister; shadowy military-industrial forces circling above us in helicopters, people hiding in doorways, or behind mirrors in store dressing rooms. Our lives are never not entertaining, never anything less than eventful.
I never met a conspiracy theory I did not at least admire. (You have to love the art behind these things.) Here are a few I made up all by myself in childhood:
- If you sneeze and cough at the same time, you DIE
- Nazis are very real and still alive and coming to kill me (try saying this to other grade-schoolers, in 1976)
- The above “Nazi” bit, extended to the following: killer bees, quicksand
- Skylab (the size of six buses!!) would fall to Earth directly on my head
Want to have fun with a conspiracy theorist? Stage an accident, like a five-car pileup. Make sure the theorist is driving by. If he or she’s anything like me, the conspiracy theorist will be sure he or she either caused the accident or was supposed to be involved in it somehow. That poor soul will not leave the house again for six months. This is a good way to get housework done, if nothing else.
So it’s with a light heart and a tip of my aluminum-foil hat that I credit this year’s international corporate villain, British Petroleum, with having just done the impossible. No, not for having apparently stopped the three-month, gazillion-gallon flow of oil they started on April 20 into the Gulf of Mexico: for getting me to believe once again. Conspiracies live! Nice work, BP.
How could I not have seen it? BP is this decade’s Dick Cheney (who just received his latest heart part/ battery-pack replacement, so well done there! Evil never dies!).
Witness the awesomeness:
- Not only did BP’s oil spill visit further trauma on our disaster-saturated Gulf Region;
- Not only has it forced people who danced and dark-humored their way out of Hurricane Katrina to try to do it all again, but this time, try to bright-side their way out of the worst environmental crisis in history;
- Not only has it blighted the beaches of our great Southeast …
- BP has now managed to tie its current global misadventures to the Lockerbie Disaster (my Pet Peeve!)
So BP, that last one? Handing this conspiracy theorist a link to an incident that’s pissed me off, in a personal way, for twenty years? You did not just do that Fox Mulder s**t to me.
It’s gutsy, I’ll say that. So smoking-gunny, so grassy-knolly! Do you want me to charter a plane and leaflet central London with old Xerox photos of dead people? Because that’s something a conspiracy theorist would totally do. That’s an average afternoon. Someone else might need years of planning and a serious psychotic break to gear herself up for an action like that. Not me.
The conspiracy day: wake up, shower, dress, go to work, get coffee, handle a couple of projects, print some leaflets, eat a banana, look up an address, charter a plane …
We’re the Zapruder People. You do not want to get us started. I’m serious.
But wait just a second here, BP. You can call me crazy (and you’d be right!), but this latest detail seems just a bit too neat, even for you. Even for the people who built an island so their “offshore drilling” adventures up in Alaska would be technically “onshore”.
It all seems somehow … what’s the word? … (Conspired? No.) Contrived.
Isn’t it possible, BP, that spun up is exactly where you want me? Isn’t it possible you’d prefer we all waste our time bashing and boycotting you, rather than calling others’ attention to matters of real concern?
I’m on to you, BP. Just letting you know that I know that I think you know what you’re doing, and I think you know that I know it stinks.
Don’t go to any meetings in Dallas.