After re-reading the previous blog post on the NSA and hearing of their unchallenged power from their news I began to worry. What if all the events in my life were orchestrated to happen like they are by the NSA? What if my life was one big conspiracy? I entertained the thoughts but did little more than that. Until I discovered the truth.
I was inspired to write this piece after watching the off-broadway performance of The Da Vinci Code. Well, a more accurate statement would be, attempting to watch the off-broadway performance of The Da Vinci Code. Waiting to pick up my tickets in the lobby of the theater, I was mysteriously told that I wouldn’t be allowed to attend the show that night. As my clothless body was forced from the theater I knew something suspicious was happening. Searching for the logical explanation my mind immediately jumped to the shadowy subject of government conspiracies. Either there are laws preventing a fully naked man lubed up in maple syrup from attending a children’s rehearsal of The Da Vinci Code or I was deliberately prevented from seeing the show because the show could show me something I wasn’t supposed to see. I didn’t know it yet, but I was being dragged into my own The Da Vinci Code. This time the code was me. Da Vinci was the play tickets. The “the” was an article used to emphasize the subject, and the article was co-authored by a man paid to say under oath that he is in fact Dan Brown. And the subject emphasized by the article was the conspiracy.
This conspiracy stretched its wispy tendrils through the mires of government and secret societies. It stretched like a limber female doing yoga in front of her instructor Rafael, the very same one who never compliments her daring choice of headbands. It stretched like someone who had gotten to yoga class 30 minutes early yesterday so she could set up her mat right in front of him. Like someone who had been looking forward to this class all week, someone who has felt so alone since her cat committed suicide. Like someone who had gone through four cats this month and the adoption agency was hesitant to give her any more. The conspiracy, like this severely depressed, albeit flexible female, wove its way through the tapestry of society. Each thread was a possible lead, it began at a simple ticket booth attendant and clawed its way up to the presidency of the United States.
I staked out the performance like it was a vampire’s heart. From the top of the building across the street I watched as parents left with children in tow. A thin, effeminate dad yells at his obese son as a mixture of tears and fried chicken greased slide down the child’s face. It made me sick. Although, in all fairness the leftover vegetable lasagna from the Apricot Grotto (a cheaper, sluttier version of Olive Garden) that was taken from the dumpster may have contributed. I devoted years upon years of intensive research and detective work and what follows is a limited time, exclusive 6 piece radio cassette compilation offering the extent of my findings! It can be yours for only three easy payments of $69.95 followed by three more easy payments of $69.95. Call in the next fifteen minutes and I will include this pristine kevlar shower curtain free of charge for just seven dollars extra.