A few coworkers of mine recently stumbled across the 9/11 documentary “Loose Change” on Netflix. For weeks it was all they could talk about. There was a sense of outrage and disbelief at the theories being advanced that I found…quaint.
Day after day I listened to them rant about controlled demolition and cruise missiles. Once this conspiracy theory took root in their mind it was like a flower blooming. Had I heard that some suspect it was actually drones that hit the towers? Was I aware of the Bush’s banking cartel connections to the Nazi party at the beginning of WW2?
Of course I did. Being in my early, early (early early) 30’s I grew up in an era where it was considered fact that the government killed Kennedy and the Vietnam war was a bunch of bullshit. Hell we studied Oliver Stone’s JFK film in high school. I’m of the X-Files generation. Conspiracies theories are part of our generation’s pop culture folklore. The Roswell cover up is treated like the Richard Gere gerbil story. You more or less just consider it to be fact and move on with your life.
Seeing my coworkers lose their shit over Loose Change (and the several others documentaries they watched that followed)…it spoke to something in me though. That passion. That sense of outrage. The shock of having the blinders taken off you for the first time and realizing our society/planet/universe/dimension might not be exactly what you thought it was. It was something I hadn’t felt for quite some time.
As synchronicity would have it, a couple of days later I sat behind a truck in traffic with a bumper sticker that read “9/11 was an inside job” I had to admire the guy (or girl) for having the balls to make such a bold and public declaration. During all the conversations and arguments at work I mostly just kept my mouth shut. I learned long ago not to argue with people about their beliefs (especially 50 year old men). It’s a waste of time, especially when it comes to matters such as this. Things that can never be proven one way or another. People like to act like they have all the facts and know what’s up, but at the end of the day it’s just one asshole’s version of the truth versus another.
All one has to do is look at the 2012 phenomenon to see a perfect example of this. How many different ways was the world supposed to end? Everyone had a different theory. Coast to Coast AM would have programming 5 nights a week about how the world was going to end. Each guest with a different theory and book to sell, each one contradictory and each one ultimately proven to be completely 100% absolutely WRONG. How is 9/11 or the alien agenda even different? We want to thumb our noses at pop culture and mainstream media but in the end the alternative media is guilty of the same crimes, selling shit we don’t need to people being told what they need to hear.
I guess what it all comes down to is belief. What do you BELIEVE. What version of reality do you subscribe to. For this I’d like to quote a mind greater than my own. Ladies and Gentlemen, Neil Gaiman…
I can believe things that are true and things that aren’t true and I can believe things where nobody knows if they’re true or not.
I can believe in Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny and the Beatles and Marilyn Monroe and Elvis and Mister Ed. Listen – I believe that people are perfectible, that knowledge is infinite, that the world is run by secret banking cartels and is visited by aliens on a regular basis, nice ones that look like wrinkled lemurs and bad ones who mutilate cattle and want our water and our women.
I believe that the future sucks and I believe that the future rocks and I believe that one day White Buffalo Woman is going to come back and kick everyone’s ass. I believe that all men are just overgrown boys with deep problems communicating and that the decline in good sex in America is coincident with the decline in drive-in movie theaters from state to state.
I believe in a personal god who cares about me and worries and oversees everything I do. I believe in an impersonal god who set the universe in motion and went off to hang with her girlfriends and doesn’t even know that I’m alive. I believe in an empty and godless universe of causal chaos, background noise, and sheer blind luck.
I believe that life is a game, that life is a cruel joke, and that life is what happens when you’re alive and that you might as well lie back and enjoy it
And at its core, isn’t what this is all about? Keeping an open mind? “After all beliefs are dangerous. What do I believe in? Very little because even less can be proven. All I know is that I don’t know nothing, and gentle readers, that’s fine.
This blog contains zero fact, and makes no claims of such. It is lies, conjecture, bullshit and heresy, but at least it admits to it. Make up your own mind. Be skeptical. Too often being a “skeptic” has a negative connotation. I call bullshit on that. It’s a beautiful thing. Plus if you really want to follow most of these conspiracies down the rabbit hole at some point you have to start taking into consideration disinformation. I mean, if the Kennedy assassination was SUCH a huge cover up and the CIA is this big shadowy scary organization than why the fuck did the History Channel get away with dedicating a whole week’s worth of programming about it once a year? You mean to tell me these people control the weather and scare witnesses into silence except during sweeps week? Fucking nonsense.
But logic dictates that at some point there must be an absolute truth right? Theories a plenty, there is one definitive story to what happened on 9/11. The lights in the sky are something. Either alien abduction is real or it isn’t. The truth is real, it does exist, and it is out there. But what is it? Will we know it when we hear it? Philosophers have been trying to get the bottom of an “absolute truth” for as long as modern thought has existed, so good luck on cracking the code on that one.
Like Mr Gaiman, the storyteller in me hopes it’s all true. The world is a more interesting place with more than one God pulling the strings, when aliens are real and can be both benevolent and malign. Where there is a war going on, a great cosmic battle between good and evil that we all have a part to play in. Makes life a little more exciting doesn’t it? Maybe your whole entire life up until this part was just the first five minutes of Star Wars and at any moment some droids could show up on your doorstep and lead the way to adventure and destiny. Wouldn’t that be nice?
These are just the stories we tell ourselves to make sense of the world, and help us go to sleep at night. And our stories, while infinitely more creative, are ultimately no better or worse than theirs.
– Pat O