People with imaginary enemies whom they believe to be real are called paranoids. People with real enemies whom they believe to be imaginary are called victims. It is often difficult to tell which is which until it is too late and sometimes even then.
Some people call me paranoid because I am a conspiracy theorist. In this world today anybody who's not paranoid isn't paying enough attention. Theory develops best from practice, and from observation. I have studied conspiracy in the library, in the lab, and in the field. As the French say, you never look under the bed unless you've hidden there yourself. I'm certainly no coincidence theorist. Those guys couldn't outwit a box of rocks. Listen up guys. This ain't rocket science. Once is happenstance. Twice is coincidence. Three times is enemy action.
I prefer to think of myself not as a theorist of any kind, but as an observant and analytical, independent researcher. Think of me as a sort of unlicensed private investigator. I'm really a historian. I specialize in secret history, particularly recent secret history. I had intended at one point in my life to teach history for a living and began attending a small state teachers college near my hometown. The Vietnam War intervened. I began organizing against it early. I helped organize the first mass demonstration against the war. The "Levitation of the Pentagon," in October of 1967, drew a quarter of a million people to Washington. Six weeks later I was arrested along with 28 others on a totally bogus drug charge.
Years later I learned that this was part of a mass "dirty trick" campaign waged by the FBI against the antiwar movement and the civil rights movement, and especially against anybody working to unite the two against our common enemies. The program was called COINTELPRO. It was run by a father and son FBI agent team, Richard Held, Sr. and Richard Held, Jr. They were wildly successful. My career as a teacher was ruined. No one with my record can ever teach school. I got off easy. I attribute this to luck of the draw. I was born white. Fred Hampton never did anything I didn't do, and they shot him through the damn wall.
Some sheep are more equal than others. Gary Larson says that the sheep that give us steel wool have no natural enemies. Don't believe it. Everybody has enemies, even sheep. Especially sheep. In a very real real sense, sheep are their own worst enemies. But yes, sheep have enemies. Even paranoids have enemies. Even you have enemies. There are more of them than you think, a lot more. Hell, you have enemies you never even heard of. Really, you do. Just because you never heard of them before doesn't mean they don't exist. They exist, all right. With proper technique or a bit of assistance they can be observed. Even the best camouflage reveals something to the educated eye. Their camouflage is excellent. They are dressed in sheep's clothing. They blend right in. If only they were imaginary, what a relief that would be. But, oh well. They are plotting behind your back, even at this very moment, conspiring as it were, and not in your best interest, nor in mine. That gives us something both crucial and precious in common.
Conspiracy is as natural as breathing. Everyone does it, everyone. When we spell rather than use words in front of our young children, we are conspiring. When we agree to distract mommy so our siblings can raid the cookie jar, we are conspiring.
When we imagine that the powers that be are somehow "above all that," we are sadly deluded. That's how they came to power. To them, we are livestock, nothing more. The ruling class, the so-called "elite," are pastoralists by trade. They herd us. They fleece us. They sell us. They rustle us. They breed us. They experiment on us without our knowledge or consent. They slaughter us at will. They own us and they own our land. That's how it is. That's how it's going to be, at least for as long as we play along. Husbandry it's a verb. Look it up. Then look up cull.
Politics! It's enough to gag a maggot.
When I look far enough to the right or the left, I see the same damn thing. A bunch of guys with guns wanna tell me how to fuck, which drugs to take, and when to show up for work. The center, sheep in bondage, bleat along.
Agree? Disagree? I’m at nessie@sfbg.com.
