Bedtime reading last night was Vulture’s piece on the 70 Greatest Conspiracy Theories in Pop Culture History. Some of the conspiracy theories are almost more famous than their subjects. Like Elvis still being alive. I mean, God, I wish. Because I was practically an Elvis scholar in early adolescence and one of the things I wish I could un-know and un-picture about Elvis is how he died – on the floor of the bathroom, having been on the toilet before falling over and trying to get help. The people who never believed that Elvis really passed are called “Alivers”. And while the Aliver version of what happened to Elvis is well-known, there are several “truths” that I’d never heard of until I read this story.
Like… JK Rowling didn’t write Harry Potter. She’s an actress hired to play the part of the author. WHAT?! Also, we’ve been looking at a clone of Avril Lavigne since 2003.
Some conspiracy theories are hilarious. Like Stevie Wonder truthers who insist that Stevie can see. And that there’s no such thing as the Beatles. Some conspiracy theories, however, are super confusing to me. Like how much effort has gone into trying to prove that certain artists aren’t responsible for their own work. This is a stupidly simple thing to say but I just don’t understand why you’d bother claiming work that wasn’t your own. What is the satisfaction in that? If the basis of a conspiracy theory is that you have something to gain, what could possibly be gained by letting someone else do it all? What would it feel like to be acknowledged as having directed a film while you’re in the same room with the person who actually directed the film? Wouldn’t that feel like total sh-t?
If you haven’t already, click here for the Vulture roundup of conspiracy theories.
Yours in gossip,