The Conspirinterocitor #3 – Looking up at stuff turns you into a subservient zombie

Hey there. One of my hobbies is making up conspiracy theories. You know - just to see how wild you can get on the possibility that some swivel-eyed madman somewhere will cut-and-paste the bits in between the piss-takings and disseminate the information among a network of other swivel-eyed lunatics. Probably via the medium of tin-can telephones…because every other avenue of communication is being listened to by the government and lizard-aliens.

Anyway, here’s the latest faux fevered fanatical fulmination.

 

LOOKING UP AT STUFF TURNS YOU INTO A SUBSERVIENT ZOMBIE

Looking up at shit makes the blood flow to the brain change, thus affecting how the brain balances supply of blood, causing globally protective changes in neurotransmitter types and amounts that have a negative effect on our willpower while saving us from braindeath.

Throughout all walks of life we are encouraged by religion, design, architecture, our peers, etcetera to LOOK UP

Children look up to their parents

Congregations look up to the image of God

We all look up at Apollo, Ra, Helios (name him how you like, we all look up to feel the sun on our faces)

We are encouraged by our peers to keep our chin up when we are down

We look up at the screen in the cinema and now in our homes at wall-mounted televisions

We have to look up at road signs to save ourselves from accident

To look up is to OBEY!

To look up is to bare your throat.

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I love making this shit up.

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Previous Conspirinterocitor communications:-

The Conspirinterocitor #2 – Where’s your balls man?

The Conspirinterocitor #1 – I bet this comes back to bite me on the arse

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The Conspirinterocitor #2 - Where's your balls, man?

Heads up conspiracy theorists! You! Yes, you! The guy watching repeats of the X-files through his spirals-for-eyes. I'm talking to you, pal! It's time for The Conspirinterocitor to be tuned to your wavelength.

Did you know...that cholesterol is necessary for the production of the magic ball-juice that makes you a man? That means (by a stretch of logic that can only be described as fantastical) that the good people who are trying to lower your cholesterol level are trying to unman you, unmake you, destroy you.

Gloria Hunniford is obviously trying to take over the world. Maybe not by herself; she may be just the face of demonic/government/alien powers, but I wouldn't put it past her. Allow me to explain.

Flimsy reasoning powers...GO!

1) Your liver makes cholesterol anyway, no matter what you eat; but if you eat foods high in cholesterol then your own body feels the need to produce less.

2) They want to replace your good old eggs and bacon cholesterol with PLANT sterols instead. So your testosterone will be replaced by plant-osterone (or something) and when's the last time you saw a plant win a war, a gold medal or even a fight over a girl?

3) Your girl isn't safe either 'cause cholesterol is basic to the production of oestrogen too.

So...Gloria Hunniford is the weathered face (or the head) of a conspiracy to make us breed less and fight like wimps.

What demonic/government/alien plot would be complete without turning us into meek, ball-less pussies who can't even remember (cholesterol helps memory too, see) what we are supposed to be fighting or breeding for? Oh, and because we are cheerfully doing it to ourselves (on the urging of so-called experts) then it MUST be a conspiracy.

Fight low cholesterol, you demented easily-led lunatics! Shove pies and quiche down your necks as if they're going out of fashion! Your planet (and your balls) need you!

[My cholesterol number is 42.6 - I practically shit eggs and shortcrust pastry in the form of fully intact flans. That wouldn't be so bad, but my body has somehow begun producing the fluted tins they come in as well - and they're havoc on the piles.]

 

n.b. I do not believe any of the above and, being fictional anyway, it wouldn't matter if I did. So don't go gunning old GH down in the street outside the T.V. studio, eh? Thanks awfully, old bean.

p.s. I used the word 'cholesterol' a full nine times in this post. Damn, that's ten now. I'd better stop while I can. No wonder they fucking shorten it to HDL and LDL. Though I do love the word 'lipid'.

The Conspirinterocitor #1 - I bet this comes back to bite me on the arse

I love conspiracy theorists. Not conspiracies themselves, of course. What sane man could contemplate such wild and improbable Jenga towers of delusion as exist now, and have existed in one form or another since man stopped being too busy running for his life from fanged beasts; or breeding like fuck to up the population enough to fight same beasts instead. Well, at least enough to ensure that the murderous trip that you execute on Ug, your rival for Rachel Welch's affections, goes unnoticed in the mass panicked rush away from them. Come on, you'd do it. She's the only cavewoman around here with two names, for a start. That's prestige, that is. Fucking prestige.

They're fantastic they are. Poke 'em and off they go. Conspiracy theorists that is, not cavewomen.

A favourite activity of mine is the concoction of such wild and improbable Jenga towers of delusion as would have them frothing at the mouth. Here's the first...

The internet is a method of storing humanity's achievements, skills and knowledge for the inevitable migration of the social elite into space. (That's in bold so they notice it)

Flimsy reasoning powers...GO!

1)  We're not ALL going to be able to go now, are we?

2)  Those (the wealthy, the powerful, necessary whores, etc.) who do escape the coming bio/nano/religio-apocalypse will need the stored knowledge of mankind.

3)  That's what the internet is for - so the rest of us can enlighten future generations of spoilt people long after our starvey/grey gooey/smote-by-God deaths. Bastards.

So what can we do to fuck up their plans? Nothing we need to really. We've already done it. They'll wind up a few generations on being a mad society based on quasi-religious flame wars on message boards, or so ensorcelled by all the pervasive hard-core porn that they die out from such terrifyingly evolved STD's as would make the transformation into a zombie look like a fucking makeover. As their generation ships ply the spaceways, they'll be crying 'WTF?' at each other as they desperately try to Google the manual for the engines and come up with 380,000 hits for 'hot spicy engine sex'. Ha! Take that, escaping social elite!

That's it. Poked. See 'em go...

 

p.s. I do not believe any of the above. It is for the benefit of the credulous.

I do have the government after me though, but fortunately it is the government of Middle Kingdom Egypt - and they weren't much fucking use even when they were alive three and a half thousand years ago. So I reckon I can breathe easy. Oh Jesus! Is that an unmarked black dhow off the coast there - its oars muffled by rags and the slaves tongueless to best sneak silently up on me? They've found me.

Damn.