With all the economic turmoil, people say maybe it’s time to think about a new career. Something with growth potential, with a market that’s not already saturated. The typical advice is to get into a field you’d really love, or at least can be good at. After giving it a lot of thought, I’m thinking maybe becoming a conspiracy theorist might be a wise choice. Society can never have too many and the potential for growth is only limited by the vividness of one’s imagination and the personal grumpiness factor. Score on both points!
Grumpiness is at the root of many, if not most, conspiracy theorists’ rumblings and rantings. In our culture it’s frowned upon to be bad-tempered, but, if there’s a reason, well, that’s different. Lots of conspiracy buffs are just malcontents who don’t really have that much to be constantly aggrieved about, so they need to manufacture reasons to be annoyed, crabby, prickly, everlastingly irritable, and most importantly, to rant. Don’t get me wrong. We all have plenty to be outraged about right now. But to be a good conspiracy theorist, you have to really enjoy being upset. Ya gotta be able to cling to any imagined slight with a death grip. It doesn’t hurt to be good at pouting and sulking either–it gets ya in the mood.
Being outraged fires up the juices. It has a positively reinforcing effect, and gets that dopamine and those endorphins seeping into every little nook and cranny of the brain. Face it–sometimes being mad feels really good. People get addicted to it. (Hence the ever expanding “hey you kids, get off my lawn” population.)
And what better to be mad about than shadowy “they” people who don’t look like “us” and don’t conform exactly to our cookie-cutter notion of what “they” should be. (Which is–exactly like “us”.) Or, on a higher plane, those black helicopters coming to put fluoride in our water–or maybe our veins!–and the aliens just salivating to put probes up our butts also make a wonderful platform from which to launch tirade after tirade. And it makes attention seeking acceptable.
How deliciously put upon does one feel when contemplating how much some shadowy “they” are taking, or have already taken, from us? Whether “they” are taking away “our” way of life (or, in the case of aliens, our planet) “our” country, or generally causing the world as we know it to go to hell in a handbasket–it’s all good for a conspiracy theorist. Bring on the angst. Oooh–it feels good.
And I have all the tools to be good at it. I’m pretty fair at holding a grudge, am naturally cranky (even with a nap,) I snarl if someone wakes me up, would like to snap if anyone makes an unsought comment or observation contrary to anything I might happen to think (social constraints prevent me, but I could do it if conditions made it appropriate) and God help you if you sample food off my plate.
And, to make up a conspiracy, all that’s really necessary is to conflate two dissimilar things. Just link two completely unrelated things together, propose some causal relationship between them, and voilà–there’s a conspiracy. Shucks, just take a newspaper, close your eyes and point at two different spots and there’s your conspiracy for the day. I could do that. With my mind closed.
And being a conspiracy theorist wouldn’t actually require much effort. Since no one’s investigating conspiracy theories, who’s to say one is wrong? Ah yes–“them”! “Those people”. Isn’t that just like “them” to try and undercut a proud flag-waving American conspiracy theorist with some commie/socialist fact-based agenda. You know the types. Always carping about accuracy, demanding “proof”. People who believe in evolution and think the universe is billions of years old. As a onspiracy theorist there’d be no actual measures of results required, no pesky job performance rating protocols, no tedious statistical analyses to be done. The slacker in me likes that.
Yep, conspiracy theorist it is. The print shop will get the order for new business cards tomorrow! “They” will have to pry my conspiracy theories from my cold, dead brain!