Whatever Happened to Fun Conspiracy Theories?

Remember when conspiracy theories used to be fun?

Back in the day, the tinfoil hat crowd was busy decoding crop circles, talking about secret alien bases under the Denver Airport, and wondering if the U.S. Navy accidentally teleported a warship in the 1940s. Sure, it was a little kooky, but it was mostly harmless, speculative sci-fi for weirdos with late-night radio and too much time on their hands.

We used The Philadelphia Experiment. Area 51. Roswell. Government time travel, secret Nazi moon bases, reptilian shapeshifters in Buckingham Palace. Were any of them true? Probably not. But they were imaginative. They gave us something strange to chew on–a kind of Cold War campfire mythology. These were conspiracy theories born out of curiosity and skepticism, not hatred or delusion.

Then something changed.

Somewhere in the 2000s, the weird wonder of conspiracy gave way to a much darker, dumber version of itself. Suddenly, conspiracy theories weren’t about aliens and teleportation. They were about vaccines causing autism, school shootings being faked, or a Satanic cabal of pedophiles controlling Hollywood and the Democratic Party. Fun got replaced with fascism.

What the hell happened?

Well, a few things, actually:

The Internet democratized crazy and also monetized it. Back in the analog age, you had to seek out conspiracy theories. Now they’re pumped into your feed by Facebook’s engagement algorithm because rage and fear are profitable. Conspiracies became content and worse, career paths. Grifters realized they could make real money off your uncle’s paranoia.

The right also weaponized conspiracy. We went from wondering if the CIA was hiding aliens to wondering if the Clintons were drinking baby blood. This wasn’t random. The far-right figured out that conspiracy theories could undermine trust in institutions, turn people against science, and rile up an angry base. Enter QAnon, anti-vaxxers, climate denial, and a pile of corpses.

People also got lonelier, dumber, and more desperate. When capitalism gives you no future and every institution fails you, it’s no surprise people start reaching for “alternative truths.” Unfortunately, the ones being served up now are dumb, cruel, and designed to radicalize, not enlighten.

Conspiracies used to be about asking questions. Now they’re about refusing reality.

You can’t joke about the moon landing anymore without someone in the comments section trying to sell you ivermectin or ranting about drag queens. The vibe has shifted from goofy paranoia to militant stupidity.

So yeah. The fun is gone.

But maybe it doesn’t have to be.

Maybe it’s time we reclaim conspiracy culture–not to spread nonsense, but to fight absurdity with absurdity. Let’s bring back the tall tales, the surrealism, the while “what ifs” that made it feel like there was something strange and wondrous just under the surface of the everyday.

The world is already insane. Let’s make it weirder, not dumber.

The Lazy Argument Against Socialism

Every time someone dares to critique capitalism, someone inevitably lobs the same tired grenade: “What about the 100 million people killed by communism?”

It’s a rhetorical nuke meant to shut down debate. And like most nukes, it leaves behind more smoke than substance.

Let’s unpack it.

First, the death tolls often cited (Stalin, Mao, Pol Pot, etc.) come from sources like The Black Book of Communism, which bundle together famines, wars, executions, and sometimes even natural disasters under the label of “communist killings.” By that logic, capitalism is responsible for every death under every U.S.-backed dictatorship, every colonial empire, every war for resources, and every child who dies because their parents couldn’t afford insulin.

Want to play that game? Fine. Let’s talk:

Colonialism under capitalism killed tens of millions — India under British rule, Congo under Belgium, the Americas under British conquest.

The Atlantic slave trade was a capitalist enterprise. Tens of millions died or were enslaved for profit.

Modern capitalism kills 8 million people every year from poverty-related causes like hunger, unsafe water, and lack of healthcare. Quietly. Systemically.

If we’re comparing body counts, capitalism is still actively killing.

Authoritarianism is not socialism.

The atrocities committed by Stalin or Mao were products of totalitarian regimes — not the idea of socialism. If we’re blaming socialism for every tyrant who used the label, then we have to blame capitalism for Pinochet, Hitler (who privatized heavily), and every U.S.-armed strongman from Latin America to the Middle East.

It’s not the label that matters — it’s the structure of power.

Socialism, at its core, is about democratic control of the economy. It’s about prioritizing people over profit. When done right, it looks like universal healthcare, strong labor rights, public ownership of essential services, and economic dignity for all.

That’s not a death camp. That’s a lifeline.

There’s the “Freedom” myth of Capitalism.

The defenders of capitalism always fall back on the idea of “freedom” — the freedom to start a business, chase your dreams, and become the next Jeff Bezos.

But for most people, capitalism means the freedom to work 60 hours a week and still not afford rent. The freedom to die if you can’t pay for insulin. The freedom to drown in debt because you got sick or went to college. Capitalism promises opportunity, but mostly delivers exhaustion.

And let’s be real: billionaires don’t get rich by working hard. They get rich by owning things other people work hard to maintain.

Karl Marx didn’t create the Soviet Union. He didn’t build gulags. He sent his life writing about a world where ordinary people could live without being exploited. The fact that authoritarian regimes warped his ideas doesn’t erase the truth of what he fought for anymore than capitalist’s crimes erase the concept of free markets.

The irony? Under capitalism, Marx’s grave now charges admission. Even in death, the system tried to make a profit off of him.

Socialism doesn’t need to be perfect to be better. Capitalism isn’t judged by Stalin. Why should socialism be?

If you’re tired of a system where billionaires fly to space while kids go hungry, maybe it’s time to stop fear the word socialism and start fearing the status quo.

Why Do Republicans Want More Babies but Hate Sex?

There’s a bill that’s been proposed by Republicans that bans pornography. Shocking, I know. They want more babies but less people having sex. Make it make sense. Now, I don’t watch porn anymore. I haven’t in two years. I didn’t have an addiction to it. I just wanted to see how long I could go without watching it. I think this ban is an infringement on freedom of expression though.

Republicans love to lecture us about birthrates. “We’re not having enough kids!” they cry, as if they solution is to just start raw-dogging for America. They panic over “declining family values,” warn about demographic collapse, and push policies to encourage more births. But there’s one little problem: they hate sex.

Not just certain kinds of sex–all of it. They fight against sex education, demonize contraception, and lose their minds over anything outside of straight, married, God-fearing intercourse. They’re not just anti-abortion. They’re anti-sex, anti-pleasure, and anti-autonomy.

So let’s ask the obvious:

If they want more babies, why are they so hostile toward the thing that makes babies?

Because it was never about babies.

It’s about control.

Sex, when divorced from shame and fear becomes power–especially for women, LGBTQ+ people, and anyone outside their rigid moral framework. If people can enjoy sex without “consequences,” the entire structure of conservative power starts to wobble. They lose the ability to use pregnancy as punishment. They lose the ability to gatekeep morality. They lose the leash.

So they push abstinence-only education, attack access to birth control, and slut-shame anyone who dares enjoy themselves, even if it’s masturbation when you’re by yourself, pulling your pud, and just having a good old time by your lonesome. All this while pretending it’s about “protecting life.”

Let’s be real right now:

They don’t want you to make babies. They want you to suffer the consequences.

Their nightmare may not be low birthrates. It may be a liberated population that can’t be guilt-tripped, manipulated, or forced into compliance. That’s why they push forced birth while demonizing the sex that leads to it. It’s not hypocrisy. It’s strategy.

And it’s working–unless we call it what it is and burn their moral scaffolding to the ground.

America Loses Every War it Declares…

… and that’s not an accident.

There’s a pattern no one seems to want to talk about: every time America declares a “”war” on something, it loses. Spectacularly. Repeatedly. Almost like it’s designed to fail–or at least never meat to succeed.

Let’s take a stroll down our hall of shame:

The War on Drugs

Launched in the 1970s and ramped up in the 80s, this war didn’t end drug use. It militarized police, packed prisons, and devastated communities (especially Black and brown ones). Meanwhile, Big Pharma ran its own cartel out in the open with opioids. The result? A multi-decade failure that somehow made drugs more common. But hey, prison stocks are doing great.

The War on Poverty

LBJ declared this one in the 60s. Ambitious? Sure. But instead of ending poverty, we got decades of underfunded programs sabotaged by both parties. Fast forward to now: wages are stagnant, homelessness is rising, and billionaires are joyriding to space. Poverty didn’t lose. It adapted, got a tech job, and learned to live in a car.

The War on Terror

We “won” this one by destabilizing the Middle East, fueling global extremism, and wasting trillions of dollars. Afghanistan? A 20-year disaster with a Taliban victory lap at the end. Iraq? Invaded based on lies. Terrorism didn’t disappear, it diversified and learned to livestream.

The War on Crime

What this really turned into was a war on poor people, especially people of color. Instead of addressing root causes–like inequality, housing, education–we militarized police, filled private prisons, and normalized, a surveillance state. Crime didn’t go away, it just got rebranded. And the police budget? It’s still the only socialist program America will never cut.

Losing is the business model. These “wars” aren’t meant to be won. They’re meant to be permanent. They justify bloated budgets, feed private industries, and generate endless political theatre. You can’t win a war if winning means ending the gift.

It’s not a bug, it’s the point.

Capitalism is Exploitation with a Smile

Capitalism sells itself as freedom. The freedom to work, to buy, to compete, to win. But when you strip away the ads and the jargon, capitalism is little more than a global scheme propped up by the suffering of the many for the comfort of the few.

Let’s call it what it is: exploitation dressed up as opportunity. The boss makes money off your time–not theirs.

Under capitalism, labor produces value but workers don’t own the value they create. If you work eight hours a day building houses, flipping burgers, or coding apps, the profit generated doesn’t go to you. It does to the owner. Your wage is just a fraction of the wealth you produce–enough to keep you alive and quiet. That’s not opportunity. That’s theft.

The owner didn’t build the thing. You did. They simply own the means–the tools, the land, the license–and the systems that says that’s enough to justify getting rich off your back.

That’s exploitation.

Who picks your vegetables? Who sews your clothes? Who delivers your packages at 10 PM for minimum wage and no healthcare? Capitalism pushes costs downward and hoards rewards upward. The working class gets debt, burnout, and rent hikes. The ruling class gets yachts, tax loopholes, and bailouts.

A job under capitalism isn’t just a source of income. It’s a hostage situation. You work or you starve. You smile through abuse because your landlord doesn’t take moral victories as rent. The “choice” to work is only free if your survival doesn’t depend on it. Otherwise it’s coercion.

If you’re wondering why billionaires exist while people die from lack of insulin, it’s because capitalism isn’t broken–it’s working exactly as it’s designed.

Try living “off the grid” or refusing to work for a wage. See how long the system lets you survive. You’re either producing for capital or consuming from it. Either way, you’re part of the machine. Capitalism doesn’t need your consent. It just needs your compliance.

Capitalism wraps itself in the flag and calls its critics ungrateful. It tells us the work harder, hustle more, and bootstrap your way out of systemic inequality. But the truth is, no one ever got rich from hard work alone. They got rich from other people’s hard work. That’s the capitalist dream: own more than you do, and extract more than you give.

Capitalism doesn’t just fail to meet our needs, it feeds off of them. It turns basic human rights into business opportunities. Housing, healthcare, food, water are all rationed by who can pay. And if you can’t? Tough.

So no, capitalism doesn’t need reform. It needs to be replaced. With something that puts people over profit. With something that doesn’t see humans as inputs for someone else’s wealth.

Because a system built on exploitation will never deliver justice.

Mandatory Breeding for Billionaires

In a bold new initiative to save humanity from extinction, I propose a simple, elegant solution: every billionaire must be legally required to produce no fewer than fifty biological children. No surrogates. No cloning. Full participation required. If you’re rich enough to buy a planet, you’re rich enough to birth its next fifty caretakers … personally.

Why, you ask?

Because billionaires love growth. They love expansion. They believe the future is built on more: more markets, more people, more productivity. Elon Musk, noted tech daddy and meme necromancer, has warned us of the “population collapse crisis” while fathering a small village. So let’s make it official: if you think birthrates are too low then congratulations, you’ve just volunteered your body for the cause.

But here’s the anti-natalist twist:

We don’t actually want anyone to have any more kids. Especially not people who treat life like a startup–launch it, leave it, let the chaos scale. But if you’re going to promote infinite growth on a finite planet, if you insist the world needs more people to “fix” things, you should be the first to drown in diapers and existential dread.

Let the billionaires change 500,000 diapers, stay up for 3 million sleepless nights, and explain to fifty children why the ocean is on fire and their water tastes like lithium. Let them homeschool fifty screaming avatars of late capitalism and field their therapy bills for the next century. If life is so sacred, let them carry its burden to the absurd conclusion.

Because life isn’t a gift–it’s a gamble. And no one should be forced into existence for the sake of GDP.

Mandatory billionaire breeding is not about justice. It’s satire. It’s vengeance. It’s the logical endpoint of pro-natalist capitalism: turning humans into infinite labor inputs for someone else’s profit margin. We simply say: if you love humanity so much, you go first. You breed the next generation of doomed innovators. We’ll watch.

Anti-natalism doesn’t mean hating life. It means questioning the unthinking worship of it. It means asking whether existence is worth it, especially when it’s engineered by those least affected by its consequences. And sometimes, it means forcing a billionaire to push out fifty kids, just to see the smirk fall off their faces.

Pissing off the Conservatives and the Liberals

Labels are like Molotov cocktails: fun to throw, even better when they cause confusion.

When I say I’m a libertarian socialist, it’s not just because it captures my politics–anti-authoritarian, anti-capitalist, pro-human dignity–it’s also because it makes certain leftists squirm. The ones who hear “libertarian” and think I’m about to start quoting Ayn Rand and Milton Friedman in a hemp hoodie. They freeze up, like I just talked poorly about Bernie Sanders and AOC.

But there’s history here. Libertarianism didn’t start with capitalist bootlickers hoarding Bitcoin and prepping for the apocalypse. It started with radicals who believed freedom meant freedom from landlords, bosses, and the state. Think Mikhail Bakunin, not Jeff Bezos. So yeah, I’m reclaiming it. And if that irritates some who think socialism only works when it comes with a five-year plan and a side of surveillance? Even better.

Then, when I pivot and say I’m an anarcho-communist, the right melts down like I just canceled Christmas. Suddenly I’m the Antichrist in a Che Guevara shirt. “You want no government and no private property?” they sputter, like I’ve just broken the laws of thermodynamics. “How will you survive without a job and a boss and a sacred chain of command?”

Easy. Mutual aid. Direct action. Horizontal structures. Also spite. Lots of spite.

I say I’m an anarcho-communist to watch their heads spin as they try to square the idea of radical cooperation with their Fox News-induced visions of chaos. To them, communism means gulags and stale bread, and anarchy means Mad Max with gender pronouns. They’ve never read Kropotkin. They’ve never imagined a world without Amazon trucks and landlord parasites. They’ve only learned fear.

So I play the game. Libertarian socialist to make the left clutch their pearls. Anarcho-communist to make the right reach for their ammo. The truth is, I’m both. And neither. I’m here to break binaries, not settle into them.

The goal isn’t to be understood. It’s to force people to think. If they walk away annoyed, confused, or–miracle of miracles–curious? Mission accomplished.

The Empire Needs More Bodies…

… and the bodies are broken.

I don’t normally post more than one blog a day, but I read something today that I had to bring to light. In plain sight on the White House’s official website was this:

“Seventy-seven percent of young adults to not qualify for the military based in large part on their health scores.”.

Let that sink in. Nearly 4 out of 5 young Americans are unfit to serve in the very institution that props up the U.S. empire. The military-industrial complex, for all its propaganda and promises of patriotism, is running up against a brutal biological reality: the bodies it depends on are crumbling under the weight of the society it helped create.

Decades of underfunded healthcare, over-processed food, environmental neglect, poverty wages, and mental health crises have produced a generation the empire can’t use. And instead of asking why so many are unwell, the system sees it as a recruitment problem. They’re scrambling–relaxing enlistment standards, pouring money into ad campaigns, and pushing JROTC deeper into high schools–not to uplift youth, but to harvest what’s left of them for war.

Because let’s be clear: the military doesn’t need healthy citizens–it needs usable soldiers. And when the well runs dry, the machinery starts to panic. That 77% figure isn’t just a number. It’s a red flag. A system built on endless war is discovering its fuel supply is contaminated. The bodies it needs are either too broken to fight or too wise to enlist.

So the question isn’t “How do we get more kids into uniform?” It’s “Why is this system so desperate for cannon fodder in the first place?” And what kind of future are we building if the only path to healthcare, education, or stability still runs through a recruiter’s office?

The empire’s war machine is hungry, but its appetite exceeds its supply. That should terrify everyone.

Review of The Conquest of Bread

I just finished reading anarcho-communist Peter Kropotkin’s The Conquest of Bread, and it was like stepping out of the haze of despair and into a blueprint for a different world, a world that doesn’t just rage against capitalism but offers a vision for what should replace it. Kropotkin didn’t just theorize revolution, he laid out the bones of a society built on mutual aid, voluntary cooperation, and the abolition of property as power. For someone like me–driven by a mix of anti-capitalism, misanthropic fire, and a stubborn belief that another world has to be possible–this book hit hard.

Kropotkin’s critique of capitalism goes beyond the surface-level arguments I was used to. He attacked not just the exploitation of labor, but the entire premise that anyone should hoard the means of survival while others suffer. He makes a moral argument without falling into moralism. It’s pragmatic and humane all at once. What stood out to me most was his insistence that revolution must not merely destroy but create. Bread first. Housing next. Then libraries, education, beauty. He reminds us that revolution must be immediate and sustaining.

Before reading the book, I knew I was an anti-capitalist, but I didn’t yet know how to articulate much of a vision. I leaned toward libertarian socialism, distrusted hierarchy, and wanted action, not just analysis. Kropotkin didn’t just validate those instincts; he gave them clarity. He fused my longing for direct action with a plan that doesn’t rely on state power. He made me think bigger: not just about resisting capitalism, but building the scaffolding of its replacement in our daily lives.

The book also sharpened my skepticism of so-called progressive compromises. Kropotkin pulls no punches in calling out the failure of reformism and electoralism. He gave me permission to imagine what happens after the collapse; how to build networks, systems, and support structures that don’t mirror the oppressive systems we fight.

Reading the book didn’t convert me; it confirmed me. It hardened my resolve to fight for socialism in a way that isn’t just about changing who’s in charge but about ending the very idea of bosses altogether. It reminded me that the chaos I crave isn’t destruction for its own sake. It’s the fertile ground where something better can grow.

America 2035

A dear friend of mine gave me the idea to write a blog about what will the U.S. be like if we continue on the course we’re on right now. I jotted it down in my own personal journal and thought I’d share it here. Let me know what you think.

If America stays the course it’s on now with no correction, no revolution, no collective awakening then 2035 will not be some sort of dystopian nightmare. It’ll be something worse. It’ll be a comfortable, numbing decline punctuated by chaos, distraction, and denial.

Corporations will no longer need to whisper in politicians’ ears, they will write the laws themselves. Amazon will own the postal service. Google will handle public education logistics. A few tech CEOs will rotate through cabinet positions like it’s a TED Talk residency. Elections will still happen, but mostly to decide which billionaire’s PAC can out-psyop the other.

The Midwest will experience a new Dust Bowl. Florida real estate will be underwater, but people will still buy beach homes thanks to delusion. Power grids in the South will collapse under summer heat, and water shortages will trigger hydration riots in Arizona. Don’t worry though, your smart fridge will still work as long as you don’t mind watching an ad every time you open it.

The rich and wealthy will live in gated green tech bubbles, shuttled by autonomous Teslas between sanitized, sensor-laden smart cities. Everyone else though? They live in logistics deserts, under-policed until they riot, then over-policed for sport. The economy has metastasized. People livestream their labor for tips, like Twitch but with more sweat and desperation.

Fascism will not wear jackboots. It wears athleisure. It smiles. It hosts a morning show, but it also bans books, surveils dissent, and locks up people in ICE-style “resilience camps” for protesting. The courts are rubber stamps. The media is infotainment sludge. The line between cop, soldier, and “private security consultant” has fully blurred.

The right will have armed militias, billionaire funding, and a 24/7 propaganda network. The left is still subtweeting each other over theoretical frameworks and canceling organizers for old tweets. Direct action is rare and criminalized. Hope is commodified. Revolution is a brand. Every year, a new savior candidate promises change, only to be eaten alive by the machine.

Citizenship is no longer a birthright. It’s a subscription service. The U.S. exports cultural dominance while its internal infrastructure rots. We’ll stream images of freedom to the world while internally dismantling it piece by piece. Freedom of speech remains, but mostly because no one in power takes anyone without a million followers seriously anymore.

Is it all doom? Not necessarily.

This future isn’t inevitable, but it’s likely if we continue business as usual: treating politics like fandom, trusting the system to reform itself, and refusing to disrupt the real levers of power.

We don’t need utopia. We just need rupture. Resistance. Imagination. Something that breaks the loop. But if we wait ten more years to try, we may not get the chance again.