In other news, water is wet, the sky is blue(ish), and Alex Jones is still ranting.
ALEX JONES, self-proclaimed sage, philosopher-king, and part-time apocalypse prepper, has done it again. If you thought things couldn’t get weirder than Jones’s alarm about gay frogs, steel yourself. On the September 18, 2024 edition of Infowars, Jones revealed… something only Jones and his audience are equipped to fully comprehend: satanic interdimensional aliens and the Devil himself are now piloting demon UFOs through wormholes into your local PTA meetings.
“Just think of them as aliens,” Jones declared with the authority of a man who spends too much time watching old episodes of Ancient Aliens but skips the actual archaeology. “They’re demons, they’re interdimensional creatures,” he added.
And here’s the kicker: People. Will. Believe. Him.
Of course, none of this would be possible without the unsung hero in this conspiracy circus—the audience. The faithful listeners who’ve already purchased Jones’s supplements like the high powered energy nootropic Brain Force Ultra™(now in Patriot flavor), nodded vigorously through the entire rant. These are the people who hear phrases like “satanic interdimensional forces” and think, Oh yes, finally someone’s speaking my language.
But what exactly makes millions of people open to the idea that the aliens (or are they demons? Interdimensional demons? No one really knows anymore) are out to get them? It’s all about fulfilling certain psychological, social, and motivational needs.
Psychological Needs: Belief in Paranoid Gibberish Is Therapeutic
When Alex Jones says the devil’s gonna operate through all the possessed people, what his devoted followers hear is, “I’m not crazy, the world is out to get me.” Paranoid thinking and delusions serve as the ultimate emotional security blanket for those too uncomfortable with the mundane explanation that sometimes, bad things just happen because life is messy. Why cope with existential uncertainty when you can just blame the Illuminati?
Sociological Factors: Groupthink for the Disconnected
When your social circle consists of a Telegram chat group titled ‘Alien Demon Apocalypse Survivors Club,’ your chances of questioning whether satanic aliens are real drop significantly. This is classic groupthink in action, where every nod reinforces the bizarre narrative, and the occasional doubter is likely excommunicated via memes about sheep and red pills.
Cognitive Factors: Let’s Not Let Facts Get in the Way
And of course, there’s that old favorite, confirmation bias. If you’re already convinced that woke interdimensional forces are controlling the PTA bake sale, you’re going to Google, ‘proof aliens control bake sales,’ not, “is it just normal for Debra’s brownies to taste weird?” Welcome to the era of curated delusions, where each Google search leads you further down the rabbit hole, usually to a shopping cart full of tactical gear and colloidal silver.
Motivational Factors: Aliens Make Life Make Sense
Finally, there’s the simple fact that conspiracy theories, especially ones involving aliens, demons, and malevolent forces from beyond, just make life more fun. Why deal with the boring reality of everyday human incompetence when you can explain every inconvenience as a product of shadowy, omnipotent powers? It’s like turning your life into a constant action movie, except with fewer car chases and more vitamin supplements.
And Yet, No One’s Really Surprised
So, what’s the moral of this latest episode in Alex Jones’ ongoing war with reality? Is it that conspiracy theorists will always find an audience, no matter how outrageous their claims? Is it that we, as a society, need to reexamine the platforms we give to delusional charlatans?
The lesson is probably this: In a world of inexplicable horrors, such as sentient billionaires naming their children after wifi passwords or supporting a fake billionaire for president, conspiracy theories are really just the icing on this cursed cake. It’s as if someone took the unholy lovechild of a late-night history channel rerun and a discount fire-and-brimstone preacher, put them in a blender, and hit “Frappe.” Now, we’re all stuck with Alex Jones, the Shakespeare of Shouting, screaming for decades about things too absurd to even make it into a Doctor Who episode.
