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How I Became a Conspiracy Theorist and Lived to Tell the Tale

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How I Became a Conspiracy Theorist and Lived to Tell the Tale

Blame it on age: I was 14 when Timothy McVeigh and his cohorts blew up the federal building in Oklahoma City (or did they… cue evil laughter).

I was also an early adopter of the Internet and before that, bulletin board systems.

Late nights spent downloading text files dedicated to Project Bluebook and Majestic-12 caused me many sleepless nights. I was convinced the Men in Black were coming for me at any moment.

But I never actually began to question my sanity until I crossed paths with the one and only David Icke.

The exact details are vague, but I recall that I was at Borders one day and happened upon The Biggest Secret: The Book That Will Change The World!

While skeptical that the world was really controlled by a clandestine network of shape-shifting reptilian creatures from the lower fourth dimension – as Icke apparently claimed – I couldn’t really figure out why the hell George Washington was posing like Baphomet.

Drawn Into the World of David Icke

That day not much happened. I spent a few minutes leafing through the book and sort of laughed it off. But when I got home, something happened.

I felt inexplicably drawn toward this strange book, filled with juxtaposed photographs and obscure diagrams. The next day I went into work, then quickly hotfooted it across the street to read more.

Three 24-ounce black coffees later, I was wired on caffeine and legitimately concerned that I had stumbled across some kind of real secret.

The reptilians and their agents were, no doubt, planning for my abduction and deportation to a secret slave labor prison camp, or finding a way to stick their consciousness into my body. I was afraid to even discuss what I had read with friends and family, for fear that it would make my torment even worse.

Teenagers aren’t generally known for being the most thoughtful and intelligent folk in the world. You’d think a single day of caffeine -induced paranoia and a night spent wondering if “they” could read my thoughts – and wondering whether even having these thoughts in the first place made me crazy – would have been enough.


Conspiracy is Contagious

Instead of avoiding the information and going on with my life, I went back to Borders, chugged more coffee and continued to plow through the strange world of David Icke.

When I finally told a coworker about what I had read, he laughed it off… until he picked up The Biggest Secret for himself.

When I saw him at work the next day, he was wide eyed and frantic.

We discussed whether or not “they” really had mind-reading technology, but comforted ourselves with the proposition that “they” wouldn’t actually use it.

A coworker overheard the conversation and piped in “Yeah, because they spent millions of dollars on something not to use it.”

Needless to say, I wasn’t the most pleasant person in the world to be around at this point. While the combination of fear of sounding insane and a fear of provoking our reptilian masters generally kept me quiet, I was very jumpy and skittish. I was like a man concealing a dark secret that he could never share with anyone.

Another coworker noticed the problem.


“I don’t really believe that part.”

“So why do you believe the rest?”

“The symbols. You need to look at them. They’re everywhere.”

“If they’re so secret, why do they want to leave their mark on everything?”

“I’m not sure. Maybe I haven’t gotten to that part in the book yet.”

“Maybe you’re an idiot.”


biggest secret

Finding More Questions Than Answers

And so this continued for weeks. I would go to Borders, drink a ton of coffee, and read or re-read something by David Icke. I mostly liked the pictures, but I read the text as well.

I wanted answers: Who were these reptiles? What does a creature from the lower fourth dimension need with human blood? What did they have planned for 2012? And why, as my coworker asked, do they put their symbols all over everything?

David Icke never really answered any of these questions for me… or any other questions for that matter. All he really did was fill me up with paranoia.

Eventually, I just burned out on it. You can only take so much paranoia if you aren’t actually crazy.

I went back to reading Don Delillo, J.G. Ballard and William Burroughs novels, men who wrote about paranoia in a much more artful and pleasurable way than Mr. Icke.

I felt cured of the acute paranoia that I had become so intimately acquainted with over the previous couple of months. It went as quickly as it came…

…And then, one night, driving home from New York City and flipping through the AM dial, I happened upon a man talking about the Anunnaki.

Paranoia can be a bit like a chronic illness. It ebbs and flows, but it never really goes away.

Image Credits:

(1) sxc.hu
(2) 7D-Kenny via Compfight cc

Originally published on TopSecretWriters.com

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Ryan is the founder of Top Secret Writers. He is an IT analyst, blogger, journalist, and a researcher for the truth behind strange stories.
Lori is TSW's editor. Freelance writer and editor for over 17 years, she loves to read and loves fringe science and conspiracy theory.

Top Secret Writers

Gabrielle is a journalist who finds strange stories the media misses, and enlightens readers about news they never knew existed.
Sally is TSW’s health/environmental expert. As a blogger/organic gardener, she’s investigates critical environmental issues.
Mark Dorr grew up the son of a treasure hunter. His experiences led to working internationally in some surprising situations!
Mark R. Whittington, from Houston, Texas, frequently writes on space, science, political commentary and political culture.

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