The Society of Secret Societies
I have never been so upset as I am right now. My adorable house cat, Mister Whiskers, has taken to sleeping on the radiator with his eyes closed. The visiting nephews and neices are off playing with their presents, especially the Timpani I got for my darling cousin’s son, Genghis. Indeed, the war drum is a pounding across the planet Earth. And what goes better with War than Secret Societies? Secret Societies and War go together like mashed potatoes and gravy. And what could outrage the peaceloving and tranquil village peoples of the Religion of Peace than the evil machinations of white heteronormative far right white wing extremists than that old bogey man, the Illuminati * ?
I was using the computer at the homeless shelter when I got an email from Ghost of a Flea. I was attending a seminar on Racism, part of the Racism is All Around Us series that you have to attend and pass all the tests to get your Racism is All Around Us certificate, which you can put on your resume when you are seeking out Job Opportunities. I already know that all white people are racists, filled with a boiling hatred of all things non-white, which is why they continue to vote for inadequate spending on activists to tell them what racists they are, let alone programs for activists to administer looking for racism, so I do not get much out of the standard re-hash of Canada’s extensive history of racism, lynching, and use of death camps as social policy. So, the tip from Ghost of a Flea was a welcome diversion from methods of marketing your activist campaign to raise funds to keep yourself in coffee and photocopy paper.
Real secret societies are secret. And, if you do not believe me, I suggest you actually join one or two to see how they operate * . Now, the criminal element favours secret combinations. Nothing like having a buddy to distract the mark as you creep up on them from behind with a guitar string garotte * . Even the most inept goon can hold an arm or leg as you pummel some non north american car owning oppressor of the working classes. Team building, we call it. And this sort of enterprise requires communication, to the point of developing a secret language. I taught my guys to say ‘Have a happy holiday season’ to signal the bludgeon wielding fellowcraft that the cowan (the target) is distracted and available for concussion and robbery.
Secrets are not really secret any more in the age of the internet. You can find out most everything you want on the net now. Getting back to our garotte metaphore, you can find most everything about what you want with a google search * . If Kennedy was bumped off by the Mafia, CIA, FBI, or the Republicans, would not some operative have gone and sold his story to the main stream media? Now a days, even the personal staff to the Queen of England go rushing to the tabloids to sell their tale. Which makes you wonder why the Queen does not have these treacherous servants bumped off. I charge 30,000 for such services, and for an additional 10,000, you get a souvenir video. I have references.
Perhaps the solution to the problem of the genre of conspiracy theories, this searching for non-existant evidence, this attribution of problems upon the evil ‘they’ and not the responsible ‘us’, is to actually give these stupid wogs what they are looking for. I used to do this in telemarketing. Tell people what they want to hear. Take them down the garden path, then over the cliff to the rocks below. AAA-aaa-aaah, then the sound like a honey dew melon being hit by an aluminum base ball bat. Hmmm.
Effective immediately, I suggest that responsible correspondents of Set, the Snake God, gather resources and make plans to form a worldwide secret society with the aim of Total World Domination. Founder members of this Secret Society of the Siblings of Set, the Snake God (the S.S.S.S.S.G) will have a lifestyle of sensual excess, as a reward and incentive to do the bidding of the shadowy Archons of the S.S.S.S.S.G. No lust nor sticky indulgence will not be embraced. In this, our Stupid-Wog-Canadians can have the satisfaction of experiencing the manifestations of their fantasies, but in a form satisfying to devotees and adherants of the S.S.S.S.S.G.
When the sun transits into Aquarius I will enter into correspondence with correspondents of Set, the Snake God. I suggest that you dream up some suitable names for your Lodge, and identify some teenage yet legal wenches to become hypnotically enslaved to your personality and fashionable ritualistic wardrobe. Identify a need and satisfy it. The market wants a conspiracy, let us give them one. Like the British forces moving into the valley of Glencoe * , let our purpose be secret, and our action swift, but timely.
I, Fenris Badwulf, wrote this.