Conspiracy and superstition

Conspiracy theories can be like the more malign aspects of cults. The success of such a process is that it can invoke so many beliefs in demonic forces out to get us that we flock to the guru for protection and salvation. This is the defining point of the success of the good -or bad - of a religious creed. Frighten enough people into believing in the Devil and they’ll buy anything you say. Conspiracy theories do this exact process, but in reverse. Scaring kiddies to death: They tell you the good guys are really demons and the only person to trust is yourself. Hence, instead of creating strength through meaning, they produce paranoia of unimaginable degrees. And by the time they’ve finished, there is absolutely nothing in the world to trust, for evil is all around, and you should be fearful. We’re conditioned for conspiracy from childhood. At school, kids form into gangs. The gangs have a secret, an initiation, and become a closed club. People outside the gang are suspect and cannot be trusted. At home, parents threaten the bogeyman. You want to go out? Well be careful of the pervert. Watch he doesn't get you. Don't take sweets from strangers. Don't talk to anyone you don’t know. There's a chance: We live in a mad world, made madder by the reality of chance. Things happen in the world that suggest order. Forever, the coincidence will come along and slap you down. When you least expect it you’ll be in the wrong place at the wrong time, and wham! Coincidences produce just as many fortuitous events, but we forget them.

Pain is easier to remember than pleasure, and the fates are out to get you. The result of childhood, of coincidence, the after spill of religion, is a mind-set of insecurity, where the worst is expected, and we’re unlikely to be disappointed. And in this world the conspiracy theorist is king. He weaves his ink-filled wand, wraps his fears about your spine, and chills. You are his; you are the conspirator’s apprentice and live in a house of cards upon a foundation of sand.