Warning: The following post contains a fair amount of morbidity. You’ve been warned.
There are a lot of ways to mark a person as a success. The shallowest way involves money and very expensive possessions. Some people look at power and influence as the ultimate achievement. Other people look at the impact they make on the world as success.
If you view success in any of these ways, I have bad news: you are so incredibly wrong. I mean, like, mind-blowingly wrong. I don’t feel that anyone has ever been more wrong about anything ever than you are about this.
The only real way to mark success is through a good old fashioned conspiracy theory. Obviously.
Let’s take a quick look at people who were “killed” by the CIA: Marilyn Monroe, Bob Marley, John Lennon, John F. Kennedy. Notice a common theme? All of these people were a big deal! This is not including all the other theories involving the Illuminati, the martial artists that “killed” David Carradine, or, my personal favorite, that Michael Jackson never died and is running around dressed as a guy named Justin Bieber (I am officially starting this conspiracy theory now. I don’t recall ever seeing the two of them together…).
Even people who are still alive have conspiracy theories. Paul McCartney supposedly died and was replaced by a clone. Nicholas Cage and Keanu Reeves are vampires and therefore will never die, a conspiracy theory that could lead to thousands of terrible movies in the future.
Long after these people have gone (or not depending on the theory), these conspiracy theories are still floating about. These people are immortalized forever.
As often happens, I found myself in a Wikipedia spiral today. The topic was these theories. Perusing through conspiracy theory after conspiracy theory, I have come to a conclusion: my single, solitary goal in life is to become part of a conspiracy theory. I want to be immortalized by a bunch of nutcases assuming that my death was not caused by natural causes, but by some secret government organization trying to silence me.
When I die, the following theory is to be spread throughout the world:
It all started when I discovered the truth. You can fill in whatever truth you want. Maybe I found who shot JFK or about the moon landing. I like to think that the conspiracy theory I just proposed about Justin Bieber is true and the bigwigs at Island records really wanted to keep it quiet.
Naturally, Island records is controlled by the government. Furthermore, Michael Jackson/Justin Bieber is a CIA operative responsible for disposing of many of the world’s most influential leaders. Not wanting their top operative revealed by a big time blogger like myself, they sent CIA operative/Island records jazz pianist Jamie Cullum to “take care” of me. At the moment I least expect it, Jamie Cullum appears and (insert cause of death here). He then disappears as a CIA operative is wont to do. The coroner looks at my body for roughly 15 seconds before declaring that my death was of natural causes. I am immediately cremated just in case anyone was to question that coroner’s report.
Does it seem far-fetched? Sure, but in the world of conspiracy theories, anything is possible. The sky is the limit.
Who would have thought Jamie Cullum would be the one to take me out, though?