Kids would be amazed that not too long ago, we had to amuse ourselves with just a handful of conspiracies, not a basketful of wingnuts for every event that hits the news. These days, any tragedy or slightly controversial event is followed with a deluge of internet chatter and YouTube videos that what was just reported was just the latest grassy knoll underworld connection.
Today marks the 53rd anniversary of the death of JFK. Most theories start here, although I’m sure there are some who say he somehow survived, or that wasn’t really him or Superman stared flying backwards or or or….you get my drift.
Was that drift a puff of smoke from beyond the fence? Why did the driver slow down? Magic bullet. Triple underpass. How many shots? Who was the umbrella man signaling? Badgeman on the grassy knoll. Abraham Zapruder, man or myth. And that’s just the beginning of three days in American history that has begat conspiracy upon conspiracy theory that has most of us convinced that something or somebody was up to something conspiratorial.
The mob, the Russians, the Cubans, the CIA, the FBI, the Military/Industrial complex…or any combination thereof. There’s plenty of blame to go around but I always found it fascinating that Richard Nixon woke up that morning in Dallas, and Joan Crawford was next door. Coincidence? I have my doubts.
And then I had my doubts when it dawned on me. Why is the easiest and best explanation to what happened that day in Dallas is the most difficult for people to swallow? Why is a nut with a gun, trained to shoot by the USMC, found himself in the right place at the right time to change history forever? I guess that’s why people just dismiss me as another non-conspiratorial wacko. To believe in the lone gunman was a revelation and and empowering. I sleep better at night knowing that sometimes a banana is just a banana.