So, I know that this blog is about debunking insane conspiracy theories, which means my personal life is boring and largely irrelevant, but this last week I was helping my Mom go through a storage unit used by my late grandfather and amidst all the usual boring junk plus an ornate owl pendant in the folds of grandma’s favorite purple, star-speckled tablecloth and a large silver trunk, I found a box that held a series of unmarked books that turned out to be journals. The first was written by my Grandpa Dwight himself, who was (ironically enough) the town conspiracy theorist, always ranting about alien-loving secret societies mind-controlling the populace and things like that. Interestingly, part of his conspiratorial philosophy included an embargo on all things owl related so that makes the pendant seem really out of place. Maybe he forgot he had it or there was some exception to that rule, but I wouldn’t be able to tell you since I didn’t see Grandpa Dwight very often as a kid because he lived in a small town in Illinois. Mom would sometimes hand me some letters he sent, but she always censored what I assume where the conspiracy-related parts with a Sharpie. His paranoia only got worse when one Richard Providence, a well-respected banker in the community, was murdered by a serial killer the next town over. Fortunately, she really got sloppy with that killing, making her easy to catch. Anyways, after that his letters got more frantic (and more censored, thanks to Mom), and his home improvement projects included boarding up the windows for protection. Unfortunately, none of this did Grandpa Dwight any good because he died when I was eight due to faulty wiring starting a fire in his home. Interestingly, a lot of these entries seem related despite clearly being from different people. I’ve added some things I’ve noticed at the end of each set of entries but I’m wondering if anyone can help me with making sense of it all. I couldn’t watch a conspiracy unfold in my own life and not tell you guys, after all.

Entries 1-3, author Dwight Koleman

6/10/2005

Well, Rachel still hasn’t called. That girl never calls. Went for a walk today. It was a good day for it. Weather was good. Must mean The Ones Above can’t control the weather yet. That’s good. Saw that banker’s boy Miles Providence. Asked if I was still trying to buy up all the country’s aluminum. Can you believe that!? Smart boy, they said. Top of his class, they said. Somehow, he’s not smart enough to see the foil’s gonna be the first thing The Ones Above get rid of first chance they get! And it’s coming soon, too! Because they’re EVERYWHERE. EVERYWHERE. EVERYWHERE. They get their grubby mitts on everything you buy! Everyone you talk to! Like Tony at the pharmacist. NO, I DON’T NEED A DOCTOR. I NEED YOU TO REALIZE YOU’RE DIGGING OUR GRAVES. And his hat’s stupid too. Orange is a terrible color for him. What was I writing about again? Never mind. It’s been half a year since Rachel last called. That girl never calls. Never. I know having a little one’s never easy since she taught me that herself but why can’t she ever call?

6/13/2005

Went to the unit in Hartmill today. Had to bring some stuff back. Shame I can’t keep it here. House is too small. Been trying to sell some stuff but nobody’s buying. Sure hope The Ones Above haven’t gotten to ‘em. It’s usually a bit obvious as long as you’re not the target. And instructions are so specific, too. The Ones Above don’t know what a five-finger discount is. Yet. Yet. Rachel still hasn’t called. How long has it been? That girl never calls. Wonder how Karolyn’s doing. Almost nine. How time flies.

My notes on this entry:

Grandpa sounds shockingly familiar with the results of alien mind control. You’d think he saw it himself if you didn’t know that was ridiculous. I guess he really did have an active imagination.

6/19/2005

Been doing some thinking. Shame, really. Real shame. Some people just refuse to see reason. Always chasing after the wrong things in this world. No caution. No thinking. All they follow is their own selfish, shortsighted way. I know a man like that. Wish I didn’t. Yesterday he went bowling with the family. Then to that bar nobody frequents with a friend who was stopping in. Usually, he stays at home. There’s a certain jealous fellow who should be reminded of that. This fellow is worth keeping, though. I’ll keep him.

My final notes on these entries:

This generally seems pretty standard. The last entry is puzzling, though. What did this guy do to deserve such harsh words and why does it matter that he was away from home on the eighteenth? Who’s this fellow who needs to be reminded and why’s he worth keeping or being kept at all?

Entries 4-6, unknown author one (see my final notes)

Thirteenth of June, 2005.

I have decided to walk to work more often. The bank is actually quite close to my residence and the weather has been veritably marvelous. On the way there, I witnessed Crazy Old Man Koleman ranting about the secret society that has eyes everywhere as he hauled a garbage bag concealing something evidently rectangular in shape. Work was frustrating, unfortunately. I am surrounded by fools who wouldn’t see a superior way of going about things if it hit them in the face. Miles has been out of the house more often, given that it is currently summer, the last one he will spend before college at that. I haven’t the slightest idea why he wishes to become an electrical engineer. Commercial banking is perfectly respectable and has been long associated with the Providence name. Martha assures me that students frequently change their majors in their first year. I can only hope. Speaking of her, she moved my owl pin while cleaning and I practically had to destroy my bedroom to find it again.

My notes on this entry:

I wonder what Grandpa was moving. Did he bring it from the storage unit? Also, I’m curious about this owl pin of his. The owl pin comes up in a different entry by someone else.

Sixteenth of June, 2005

Some people truly lack a sense of vision. Do not the most informed exercise power with the most skill? Why humor the fools we are surrounded by? Why let imbecilic, inconvenient decision after inconvenient, imbecilic decision be made by senseless minds? The old man really is a fool, just not in the way everyone believes.

My notes on this entry:

What is he referring to? Who’s this old man? Is it Grandpa? Everyone in town looked down on him. How is he a fool in a way people didn’t expect?

18th of June, 2005

Let it be known that this eighteenth of June was a wonderful day. Visiting the bowling alley was an excellent idea. Miles has his mother’s capacity to miss every last pin, but I managed to advise him, and he even achieved a few spares. I also thoroughly enjoyed reconnecting with Alfred. I haven’t seen him in fifteen years. So much had changed yet so little. His choice of establishments and drinks therein are still abysmal, quite frankly, but it was a pleasant visit nonetheless.

My final notes on these entries:

I’m not as certain who this guy is, but the Providence name does show up as you can see. I checked the late Richard’s obituary. Sure enough, his wife is named Martha, and their son is Miles, so this is probably him. His description of Grandpa seems plausible, but I’m wondering how Grandpa got his hands on this journal in the first place? It doesn’t sound like they were friends, which makes the fact that Grandpa apparently knew he went out with his family on June 18th even weirder.

Entry 7, unknown author 2.

June 19 2005.

If I don’t get around to journaling now, I’m probably never going to do it. At least today I’ve got a lot to talk about. Not in a good way. NEVER IN A GOOD WAY.First, I spilled coffee all over my good blouse. So, then I had to take it to the dry cleaner. Traffic was awful. If the cars went any slower, they would’ve started growing moss. So, then I arrive and guess who else is there? Yep. Crazy Old Man Koleman, and of course he’s ranting again. Apparently, I can’t have this necklace my late mother gave me because The Ones Above or whatever he calls them will have their secret society steal it and melt it down for their ritual altar, which must be entirely silver and shaped like a rectangular prism. I’m surprised he even knows what a rectangular prism is given all other evidence suggests he may not even have a brain at all. So then guess who has to talk to the workers while a lunatic is behind her screaming his head off about how anything purple should also be abandoned for similar reasons? But that’s done eventually and I leave, but of course the old man doesn’t let me go without a “Beware the owls! That’s their symbol!” It’s late. Quite late. Charles isn’t home. It’s frankly remarkable that he’s worried about ME being unfaithful when he’s who-knows-where at this hour! Sometimes I hear from Martha that he’s playing trivia with Richard at their house. But still, how long does trivia actually take? And why is he playing anything with Richard? Charles can hardly stand the man!I really wish he’d spend some more time with his coworkers. Stranger yet, I heard from Linda Marsh that she saw him at Crazy Old Man Koleman’s tiny hovel, and he was bringing drinks. Drinks! I walked right over there myself as soon as I heard, and I saw the Bud Lite case Linda mentioned through the window. I’ve asked him about all this, you know! And what does he say? “Traffic’s been terrible, honey;” “The car’s been real finnicky;” “some of those trivia questions can be real stumpers, you know;” “the old man needs a friend, too.” It all seems sensible enough, but this has happened too many times. I worry about him, especially since that convenience store got robbed on the thirteenth. And this used to be a safe town, too. Turns out Carl Jenkins was behind it. Apparently he’s pleading the fifth because he has no memory of the thing. All that in itself is hardly strange since I’m not sure that man has ever been sober in his life and jail might as well be his second home. But apparently, he wasn’t acting drunk, just mindless and almost empty. When informed that shoplifters would be prosecuted, he started dragging what he stole. Odd. Very odd indeed. Nothing can go right for me, now can it? I can’t even live in a safe town that stays that way it seems. It doesn’t help that I was stuck on the side of the road for hours yesterday since that car’s so beat-up. I’m going to bed.

My final notes on this entry:

I have no idea who this person is, but I hope they’re having better days. If Grandpa really hated silver and the color purple, it makes the fact that he kept that trunk and that tablecloth even stranger. From my mother I heard he never had any friends, and she didn’t know anything about this Charles when I asked. Also, it’s weird that Jenkins seemed to forget the concept of figurative speech for no reason at all.

Entries 8-11, unknown author 3 (see my final notes)

June 10th, 2005

Bethany’s been acting more distant these days. Like there’s a million things she’s wanting to ask about, but she’s given up. I’m nervous. What if at this point all that will work for her are assurances I can’t give? What if she decides our marriage isn’t worth the effort anymore? I’m not sure I can do anything. I should write about something else. Went to Richard’s last weekend. I won at trivia again, which is good, but he was a sore loser as usual. Would it kill him to be less self-absorbed? Maybe go a week without reminding me that his owl pin is more valuable? Yes, dude, I know you have a nicer house. Yes, I’m sure that country club is very expensive. YES, YOUR WIFE IS PROBABLY SO MUCH HAPPIER THAN MINE SINCE YOUR LIFE IS JUST SOO PERFECT DESPITE YOUR NEVER-ENDING SUPPLY OF ARROGANT DELUSIONS.

My notes on this entry:

I’m surprised both these guys have owl pins. I never thought those specifically were that popular. Is there a connection?

June 18th, 2005

Bethany got home really late today. She says that useless car broke down on her again. It’s believable, sure; that thing is pretty battered, but something feels wrong. That breakdown did happen near Richard’s house and she tells me Martha always visits the country club on Saturdays. She didn’t want to talk when she got home. What if? I shouldn’t make this all about me. I should do something for her. That whole situation must have been frustrating. Maybe I’ll buy her some cake tomorrow.

June 23rd, 2005

I knew he was unpleasant. I knew he was selfish. But how could anyone do something so horrible? Eyes everywhere means every person is accounted for. I know where he was. I know where he was on the 18th. I know what he made her do and just how he did it. That man has everything, but he just had to have more at her expense! My poor Bethany. Abused for his own gratification and she has no idea. How could she? But I do. He. Will. Pay.

My final notes:

This guy visiting a man he clearly hates matches with Charles’ actions in the previous entry. Is this Charles? If so, I would guess Bethany wrote that standalone passage and that they’re married. That’s interesting even without the bombshell of a final entry. It sounds like he already didn’t like whoever he’s mad at and this rival’s whereabouts on the eighteenth implicate him in something. Not sure what “eyes everywhere” is referring to. What does ‘he will pay’ mean? There’s a lot of ways you can make somebody pay, but if they hurt your wife, the punishment probably won’t be anything close to lenient. The question of how my grandfather got his hands on all of this stuff remains.

Concluding Notes:

It was really interesting to sift through this stuff and try to make sense of it. I feel like there is a connection here, even if I don’t see it yet. Of course, I don’t want to force anything; then I’d be a conspiracy theorist. I would greatly appreciate any ideas about what’s going on in the comments.