I don’t believe in conspiracy theories. They’re fun to think about, but I don’t have time to worry about them. I guess I’m just a realist. I believe what I see, not what I hear. Like the one I heard from a girlfriend of mine about jet trails in the sky. According to the theory, they’re not jet trails, they’re clouds of gas the government is spraying on us to test out a new mind-controlling vaccine. Whenever we see those jet trails, my girlfriend will say “looks like they’re spraying again,” referring to the government poisoning us. Yeah, no, those are jet trails. From planes. We live between 17 airports. Use your head.
Conspiracy theories are always going to be around, no matter what happens. Even if, say, they’re completely disproved by science. Take the Flat Earth Society, for example. There is a group (a surprisingly large group) of people who still believe the earth is flat. Not even science has proved the earth is round. Photos have. It’s almost something that can’t be argued because it’s such a simple fact. Sometimes I think they’re just messing with people. Like that guy you went to high school with that will disagree with you just to see how angry you’ll get so he can make fun of you. It makes more sense than thinking the earth is flat.
But sometimes, a theory can be so big and so publicized, that your brain starts to believe it. Things start to happen and events line up and you start to doubt your better judgement. The ending of the Mayan Calendar is one of those theories.
I’ve never really thought there’d be an end to the world. In the grand scheme of the planet, humans have only existed for a minuscule amount of time. For the planet to make it this far and then suddenly end, especially at the same time someone predicted it to, is just too much for me to handle. I’m sorry, but we’re to believe an ancient civilization predicted the end of the world, but couldn’t even see the end of their own society?
And then things started happening. The housing market crashed. The automobile industry failed. There are wars happening on four continents. Animals started dying en masse. A hurricane wiped out the East Coast.
I tried to chalk these events up to coincidence. Some things just happen, and these things all seem to just be happening at the same time. But then the worst thing happened. Something so big and so surprising and so unbelievable that only the end of times can explain it.
Hostess went out of business.
Hostess, the maker of Twinkies, the only things that were supposed to outlast humans, has gone the way of the Dodo. The little snack cake that has brought joy to millions of lunchboxes is no more. If the one thing that can survive a nuclear holocaust doesn’t exist anymore, how are humans expected to make it? It’s pretty hard to ignore all these warning signs. Maybe the Mayans were right. Maybe the world is about to explode.
Goodness knows, I don’t want to live in a world where the only Twinkies that exist are the ones that hang out at Rage on Thursdays. What’s next, Elmo leaving Sesame Street?
Yeah, we’re totally screwed.