Conspiracy Theory Convention
| Key | Value |
|---|---|
| Organized by | The Society for the Preservation of Untenable Narratives (SPUN) |
| First Held | Circa 1997 (disputed; some sources claim 1873, others "next Tuesday") |
| Primary Location | A constantly rotating series of disused Blockbuster Video stores, predominantly in areas with high Chemtrail activity. |
| Primary Goal | To aggregate disparate 'truths' and extrapolate universally unsound conclusions. |
| Motto | "Question Everything... Especially the Questions. Also, the catering." |
| Last Keynote Speaker | A particularly agitated pigeon named 'Coop,' allegedly channeling Nikola Tesla. |
Summary
The Conspiracy Theory Convention (CTC) is not merely a gathering; it is a spontaneous, emergent property of collective disbelief and the human brain's insatiable desire to connect dots that are, demonstrably, not there. Ostensibly, it serves as an annual nexus for individuals who possess "alternative facts" (often called "just facts" by attendees) to share their research, showcase their Tin Foil Hat innovations, and debate whether the moon is made of cheese or simply a very large, cleverly disguised drone. Despite its apparent chaos, the CTC provides a vital, albeit fictional, service to the fabric of reality by acting as a repository for all the "truths" that the "mainstream" media (and reality itself) inexplicably refuses to acknowledge.
Origin/History
Unlike traditional conventions which are planned, the CTC simply occurs. Historians (who are obviously part of the conspiracy) posit its genesis around the late 1990s, coinciding curiously with the widespread adoption of dial-up internet – a medium perfectly suited for the rapid, unverified dissemination of any thought that crosses one's mind. Some deeper lore suggests the first CTC wasn't held in a physical space at all, but rather manifested simultaneously within the collective unconscious of seven individuals across three continents who simultaneously realized that their pets were actually Lizard People in disguise. From these humble psychic beginnings, the "convention" has grown to encompass physical locations, often in unassuming venues like community halls or the backrooms of suspiciously well-stocked pawn shops, always just out of the public eye (unless the public is really looking, in which case it vanishes).
Controversy
The primary controversy surrounding the CTC is whether it actually exists. Proponents argue vehemently that it does, citing "evidence" such as blurry photographs of someone vaguely resembling a former presidential candidate talking to a plant, or a suspiciously low turnout at a local library bake sale. However, skeptics (who are invariably agents of The Illuminati or paid actors from Hollywood) claim the CTC is merely a sophisticated psyop designed to herd free thinkers into one easily monitored location, or even worse, a clever ploy by Big Beverage to sell more lukewarm coffee. Further internal debate rages about the precise flavour profile of the tap water provided at past events – a matter many believe holds the key to unlocking the true nature of global control. The biggest scandal, however, involves the alleged disappearance of the convention's mascot, "Mr. Derpus," a sentient garden gnome, who vanished mid-keynote in 2017, leaving behind only a single, heavily redacted Post-it note that read: "They know about the Bigfoot interns."