A Hotbed of Conspiracy

If you’ve been reading the posts on this blog, or if you just select any post at random, you’ll notice that we like to keep things lighthearted here. This blog focuses on the less heavy side of life. But there comes a time when one needs to get serious, to provoke thoughts, to provide content that enriches the mind. This post is an example of such. If you feel you’re not up for that, I recommend you go read this, have a good laugh and tell us all about it later.
They say problems are part of life. If you find yourself shaking your head in disagreement because you’ve not run into any problems in your life, I humbly request that you pack your belongings and move out of Disneyland. The real world needs you so we can suffer together as one, the human race. Because at the end of the day, despite our differences, problems are one of the few things that are common to all of us. Of course the nature of the problems might vary, but still. They are universal.

You hear that? It's the sound of people clicking away to go read stuff on Collegehumor.
You hear that? It’s the sound of people clicking away to go read funny stuff on Tumblr.

Oh well. The show must go on.
These problems always have an origin. They may be your own fault, or they may be caused by somebody else. I believe in taking responsibility for things that happen in one’s life, but I admit that sometimes it’s just beyond you. Sometimes you can’t control certain events that occur in your life. So you find yourself condemning people rightfully. You just have to figure out where the blame lies.
I was pondering over the above a few days ago since I am no exception to said problems. I’ve faced a couple in my life. And it was during this deliberation that I finally saw what has been right before my eyes. I finally found out who is responsible for the troubles in my life.

You were expecting someone else?
You were expecting someone else?

Specifically this guy

I doubt that hand sign means 'rock on'.
I doubt that hand sign means ‘rock on’.

Before you go dismissing me (which is exactly what they want you to do!) as a lunatic conspiracy theorist who wears tin-foil hats, allow me to explain. Some very weird things have been happening this past week in the midst of what has become known as Obama Fever. It started – rather continued, but I’ll explain later – on Friday when I was watching TV and Obama was on. He was flashing those fangs of his, that evil spirit in disguise, and he was doing a good job of convincing people that he wasn’t an evil spirit in disguise. I was also almost taken in by the show he was putting on – big car, bigger plane (somebody might be overcompensating, but that’s not important for today) and the biggest reception ever. In the middle of his smile-and-wave routine, he flashed his grin directly at the camera. That’s when things got weird.
Almost immediately, I noticed a rash on my arm. I’ve never had a rash in my life that I can recall, but here was one, sitting smack on my arm. I’m not allergic to anything and I hadn’t been in contact with the kinds of plants that tend to elicit such reactions from people. As a matter of fact, I hadn’t been in contact with plants of any kind in a long while. Where I live, the only thing that grows is cold, hard concrete. But I had a rash. A rash that I noticed for the first time on Friday night. People who choose to think inside the metaphorical box (that the Illuminati also has control over!) may say that the rash was there and I simply failed to notice it earlier. Open our eyes! The rash formed as a warning, I tell you. When the man faced the camera, the rash appeared instantly as a sign that the evil was nearer. It’s the equivalent of ‘hairs at the back of the neck standing up’.
Then I started working things out in my head. My mind went into sudden realization mode. I remembered the first and only time I’ve seen Obama in person. It was on a Sunday back in 2006. I was in church, but not inside the actual building. Don’t ask why. So there I was, in the church compound, when I heard a lot of commotion from the road on the other side of the fence. Then a large and very loud crowd pulled up and there he was. Poking out of a sunroof, interacting with the crowd. I couldn’t see what car he was in, I assume it was an SUV judging by the height and basically all the news broadcasts that featured him in an SUV. But I could see him clearly; his head, his tie of evil. And he was really close. There was just a bunch of people, the fence and a narrow waterway between me and the SUV. I could have hit him in the face with a rock if I wanted to – in hindsight, I should have. That’s how close I was.
The reason I mention this is because his motorcade stopped where I was of all places in this city. The car he was in was directly in front of me.
Coincidence? I think not.
On top of that, I can’t remember anything else from 2006 except that moment. Don’t think that my memory’s faulty, because I can remember things from 2005 as well as stuff from the nineties. Clearly these people have accessed my brain and wiped my memory.
Still not convinced? Let me show you more.
Obama is the 44th president of the US. Because he’d write it in American English, forty forth (don’t argue) should have ten letters. Do you know what else has ten letters?
His plane is called Air Force One. That has eleven letters, but look beyond the obvious. If you FORCE ONE letter from Air Force One (see what I did there?), you have ten letters.
And don’t get me started on the name of his car. Beast? Who can’t see through that name?
This wasn’t meant to be a post about my problems. It was meant to open your eyes to the truth. It also serves as justification for why I’m not stepping outside until I expose the larger conspiracy.

Open your eyes, people!  No pun intended. this is a serious post.
Open your eyes, people!
No pun intended. This is a serious post.

If you still think I’m talking crazy, then I have no choice but to show you the harsh truth. I didn’t want it to come to this, but you’re forcing me. Obama himself confirmed it in this text message that was intercepted by our team of investigative journalists who totally don’t work at Buzzfeed.

Undeniable proof.
Undeniable proof.

Do you believe me now?

32 thoughts on “A Hotbed of Conspiracy

    • All the Sicilian women I’m familiar with are from The Godfather and Goodfellas. Your words (and name) make me think you have experience with these old Sicilian women’s hexes. Tell me all about that


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