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Conspiracies of the universe explained

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opinion Wadena, 56482

Wadena Minnesota 314 S. Jefferson, P.O. Box 31 56482

This is about conspiracies, which I'm uncertain are all around us. A conspiracy is any naturally occurring event which may be interpreted to have been caused to happen by a person or group of persons.

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Blaming one's downfalls on a conspiracy has a nice protective feeling to it. "I fell off my motorcycle not because I was drunk but because some stupid driver hates motorcycles."

That's a front-runner for a conspiracy. Even better would be, "I fell off because the Democrats and their tree-hugging liberal policies diverted money that should have fixed that big hole in the road that I hit, coming home from the bar."

The potential for conspiracy has no end. I know a farmer who has, since the day I met him, insisted that the large chemical pesticide-herbicide manufacturers divert a lot of their money to airplanes -- airplanes that fly high and out of sight.

But, I asked him, why?

"Simple," he reasonable replied. "The government had all these high altitude Blackbird spy planes, they needed the money, so they sold them to companies who load these planes up with thistle seed and corn borers and spread them from high altitude on farms that look too healthy."

"Think about it," he went on, "farmers go years and years with no, oh, say, wheat smut, and suddenly! Blam! There it is. No way! It can't happen that fast. These guys have a meeting, decide the spread-of-the-month is smut, and away the planes go."

The problem with a good conspiracy is it seems possible.

There are some other nicely positioned conspiracy theories. Here's a couple, in case you haven't figured them out yet.

Mail two letters at once to the same person, who just called you and needed money. Put money in one envelope; nothing in the other. The empty one will arrive the next day. The important one will arrive just after Orion the galaxy dissolves into light-year dust.

This happens because half of the U.S. Post Office's employees are secretly paid by UPS.

Ship two packages by UPS at once to the same person, and place in one package the left-handed frammus needed to save civilization. In the other, put nothing. The left-handed frammus will leave for Orion, never to be seen again. And even though civilization will fail, the empty package will arrive next day. Why? Because half of UPS's employees are secretly in the employ of the U.S. Post Office.

All this makes for a wonderful conspiracy.

There's one other possibility, which scientists are working on now, which is that there are parallel universes. It is possible, I think, that in this universe, some packages turn into people, and some people turn into packages. It's a weird universe, where there is a hunting season on packages with something in them. The hunters, who were once empty packages, hate full packages, and shoot them with a vengeance. Thus, in some fashion, the full packages never show up.

Yes, I know. As a bona fide conspiracy theory, this one is thin. But then, claim the scientists, so are these parallel universes.

Here's another one: Last year, that liberal defender of environmental justice -- Greenfleece -- unbeknownst to its governing board, passed a secret motion to purchase the D-Con Company. Yes, D-Con makes a popular mouse poison, and pretty well controls the market in turning these little buggers into dessicated little, foul-smelling corpses.

Which is the beauty of this conspiracy. Little by little, over the years, D-Con has been forced to change its chemical composition from 100 percent poison to zero poison. They did this so secretly and so slowly that no one figured it out.

As a conspiracy, this one's a beaut. Just when you see some mouse poop, or hear the little monsters chewing your walls apart, you go to town and buy these little plates of supposed poison. Winter is coming; the mice are starving. This will fix them.

It does fix them. They eat that batch and several more. D-Con makes a ton of money and buys a big cigarette company down south somewhere and gets rid of the poison by putting it in cigarettes.

The mice, which you no longer see because they're so fat and lazy that they cannot move around much, no longer appear to be a problem, unless you stop feeding them D-Con. Beautiful.

Wait, you say: How about those sticky traps? Are they involved in the conspiracy?

Sure. About two days after you slip one under the sofa, a fake mouse inflates out of the sticky goo, and you think you've caught one. You throw it away at arm's length, not noticing that there are chew marks all around it.

That's where the mice ate the honey that these have around them, which goes with the protein in the boxes of fake grain, which isn't fake grain anymore at all, is it.

Anyone who doesn't believe this probably has money in the stock market, which doesn't really exist at all. It's just, well, a conspiracy.

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