SSSHHHHHH! I’m starting a conspiracy theory here to scare people into getting masked and vaccinated. I want to spread a rumor that the coronavirus is really a conspiracy by the élite alien reptiles to pass their sperm from human to human.
They do this by using the moisture in a sneeze or a cough or a kiss or even just in speaking as their medium to impregnate people and turn “us” into “them.”
That way, when an unmasked person sees another unmasked person sneeze, he has to think, “Eewww! Is that an alien reptile having an orgasm?”
FEATURED IMAGE: The image at the top of this page was lifted from the article “The Silurian Hypothesis” by Rich Cohen on The Paris Review website from January 23, 2020. According to this “hypothesis,” the reptiles among us aren’t aliens at all, but remnants of an advanced civilization that preceded humans on this planet, the reptilian Silurians:
“It’s not really a new idea. Ancient mystical texts hint at earlier creation, the life that preceded the Garden, prequels to Genesis. . . . The evidence is everywhere. Some students of conspiracy believe there was a time when lizard people shared the earth with modern men, the older race dying as the younger emerged from the forest.
The last of the lizards were worshipped as gods; these were the deities of ancient India and Greece. . . . You can see the lizard kings in carvings from Mesopotamia, the oldest historical records, where humans bow before reptile men.
You find them again in the Torah, where they appear as Nephilim, the so-called watchers . . . which no priest, minister, or rabbi can properly explain.”
To read Cohen’s article in its entirety, click here.
Mystically liberal Virgo enjoys long walks alone in the city at night in the rain with an umbrella and a flask of 10-year-old Laphroaig who strives to live by the maxim, “It ain’t what you know that gets you into trouble; it’s what you know that just ain’t so.
I’ve been a puppet, a pauper, a pirate, a poet, a pawn, and a college dropout (twice!). Occupationally, I have been a bartender, jewelry engraver, bouncer, landscape artist, and FEMA crew chief following the Great Flood of ’72 (and that was a job that I should never, ever have left).
I am also the final author of the original O’Sullivan Woodside price guides for record collectors and the original author of the Goldmine price guides for record collectors. As such, I was often referred to as the Price Guide Guru, and—as everyone should know—it behooves one to heed the words of a guru. (Unless, of course, you’re the Beatles.)