EPIPHANY OF THE DAY

 CONSPIRACIES

 When I came to the state on leave from Navy Boot Camp, I encountered the first major conspiracy theory I can recall. Yes, of course, it was that “new information” was telling us that the assassination of John F. Kennedy was a staged affair. Jack Ruby had been involved in the assignment to murder Lee Harvey Oswald and then he was somehow injected with drugs that would end his life soon from a pulmonary embolism.

It was a fairly simple conspiracy theory. Somehow “the mob” had orchestrated it by selecting the most unlikely hit man in mob history, the befuddled Oswald to carry out the complicated assignment.

Conspiracy theories evolve. From this simple offering, we now face a theory requiring more complicated interactions than nuclear physics. The array of conspirators grew from the mob to practically everyone occupying a high national government post since the act, all orchestrated by Lyndon Johnson who was a member of the motorcade himself. Oh, we must also include practically the entire public administration of Dallas, Texas along with a substantial portion of state officials. Oh, and the owners of the building from where the shots were fired. Some of shots that is. Another barrage erupted from the crowd on a nearby hill. Or so they say.

In all this time there has not appeared one verifiable—verifiable—tidbit of proof that the affair was anything more than the unfortunate act of a lunatic.

In all this time, there has not been one deathbed confession underlying the myriad theories.

In all this time there has, in fact, been no evidence to support this “Great Mother” of conspiracy theories.

That period of time is now approaching 60 years.

Putting that in perspective, let us consider a real conspiracy. Let’s take, say, the Iran-Contra Caper, a political scandal in the United States that occurred during the second term of the Reagan administration.

It consisted of a secret U.S. arms deal that traded missiles and other arms to free some Americans held hostage by terrorists in Lebanon, but also used funds from the arms deal to support armed conflict in Nicaragua.

In short, the administration was secretly selling arms to Iran (yes Iran) in order secretly finance an illegal funding of a war in Nicaragua.

The caper fell apart in less than a year. Some of its participants suffered. Some didn't. One main actor, Oliver North (of whom one writer once said that "there is a faint smell of sulfur about him") Oliver North received a lifetime sentence requiring him to be a spokesperson for the Republican Party.

In her book, The Age of Magical of Overthinking, author Amand Montell calls conspiracy theories “sense-making narratives. This is consistent with historian William Manchester’s opinion not long after the JFK conspiracy began to sprout wings. The author of “The Death of a President, once said:

“ …, in a curious way, there is an esthetic principle involved. If you take the murder of six million Jews in Europe and you put that at one end of a scale, at the other end you can put the Nazis, the greatest gang of criminals ever to seize control of a modern government. So there is a rough balance. Greatest crime, greatest criminals.

''But if you put the murder of the President of the United States at one end of the scale, and you put that waif Oswald on the other end, it just doesn't balance. And you want to put something on Oswald's side to make it balance. A conspiracy would do that beautifully.

“Unfortunately, there is no evidence whatever of that.''

But still we believe on.

Morning Thoughts: November 27, 2017

It took me five days, but I put all my thoughts together of the day I heard, with all other Americans, that John Kennedy died. We would find out later that a deranged worker named Lee Harvey Oswald had stayed during lunch at this worksite that overlooked the route of a presidential motorcade in Dallas, Texas. Having slipped a mail-order rifle to work in brown paper wrapping, and having learned to shoot in the United States Marine Corps, he had one of those epochal opportunities that can change world history.

If you have memories, leave them in the comments. Mine:

I shared a house on Leverett Street in Fayetteville, Arkansas with another student. We were there for lunch during noon break, listening to the local radio station KHOG. Right at 12:30, there was a break saying that sounds were heard along the presidential cavalcade in Dallas. They may have been gunshots. They may have been fireworks. They may have been a car or motorcycle backfiring. We were to stay tuned.

The sounds were gunshots. We were to stay tuned.

The presidential cavalcade was headed for a hospital. We were to stay tuned.

Minutes elapsed. A song with lyrics, “I gotta woman, way cross town, she’s good to me,” started to play. It stopped.

President Kennedy is dead. Music resumed, “I’ve gotta woman, way cross town, she’s good to me.”

I couldn’t speak. My roommate could. “Well that’s what happens when you go up against the will of the people.” He was speaking of racial integration, of course.

What to do? I had a one o’clock class in sociology under a Dr. Grant Bogue, who became somewhat famous in the field in later years. I decided I should go. It was too lonely not to.

There was, still is, a small Catholic Church a couple of blocks from campus on Leverett. As I walked toward class, I still thought the whole thing might be some horrific mistake. Then I saw cars jammed up in front of the church and women running inside, clutching rosaries.

It was true all right.

About half the class showed up. Not many were prepared to speak. One sorority girl broke the silence by asking Dr. Grant what he thought about the claim of some numerology relationship between presidents who were assassinated and the year in which they been elected. It had something to do with leap years or some such relationship.

He pondered this bit of folk-related insight for a moment. “I doubt that it is any more ridiculous than some of the other things we’ll be hearing in the future.” Little could we have imagined his prescience.  Then, after a long silence, he dismissed class.

The following week is a blur. Next day was Saturday. The University of Arkansas was one of the few colleges in the country that didn’t cancel its game. I had no stomach for it, but I did walk over to see the protesters. One sign read, “The country prays. U of A plays.” That was probably the best one.

I had no access to television, so I failed to see Jack Ruby murder Oswald, or the funeral of the president. I saw them later on reruns, and of course many, many times since.

Later, at the home of a couple I knew, both severe and radical evangelical “Christians,” I watched young John Jr. salute the coffin of his murdered father. As I tried to stop the tears, I heard a voice boom, “I just wonder how many people have been ‘swupt’ off into Hell watching that Catholic funeral.”

It was over. I learned, for then and forever, that some things never change.

How the mighty are fallen. - 2 Samuel 1:27