COLUMN: Uncovering the ultimate conspiracy

Marty Reeder

Conspiracies, much like other people, the air we breathe and even all of those annoying accident lawyer commercials, are all around us.

Some conspiracies are pretty obvious and are even openly-accepted, such as the conspiracy of Nike to take over the world.

Yet there are conspiracies out there that you aren’t even aware of, conspiracies, that – if you were to learn of them – would cause our society to crumble before your very eyes and leave absolute chaos in its place.

What conspiracies are these, and how did I, a humble student living in Logan, become aware of them?

Well, as for my source of information, let’s just say that it’s amazing what a small taco and Sprite will get you if given to the right person. As for these life-changing conspiracies, the list is as long as I am smart (that means long).

How about, for starters, the conspiracy of mice trying to subliminally get rid of their bad image by attaching their names to an integral part of our modern-day computers.

You may be skeptical now, but when printers begin to be named after rats, then I think you’ll remember my warning.

What about plate tectonics? You were probably taught the continents are moving as a result of convection currents underneath the crust of the Earth. Please.

Big companies are really the secret behind the moving continents, simply trying to reduce the distance of travel between North America and Europe to cut transportation costs. That’s just the tip of the iceberg.

An interesting emerging scandal I’ve just become aware of is that of the appalling “Hub Conspiracy,” one taking place right here on our very own campus.

Although details and evidence are still scant at this early stage, any breaking news of this conspiracy can be explained thoroughly by the brilliant minds of Craig Larsen or Casey Ashcroft (be careful, once the conversation is started it will likely involve at least two hours of your time, an excess of white board illustrations and at least three different and complicated calculus formulas).

But the conspiracy I’d like to bring to your attention at this moment – the one I like to dub as the “ultimate conspiracy” – is also one that takes place right underneath your very noses, and it involves the university faculty.

Sure, you as a student might lackadaisically go to your classes with hardly a care in the world to listen to the different lessons or lectures of your professors without second- guessing their “innocent” intentions – but beware. Through careful, if not dangerous, investigation I have discovered your professors fully intend on monitoring your learning progress.

And if that weren’t enough, at the end of the semester they secretly report your progress on your transcript with an encrypted formula involving a portion of the English alphabet.

Through long years of study and research I have been able to break their code, and I found out that you will receive an “A” from the professor for excellent learning progress, descending down to an “F” for no progress, or in some cases progress in the wrong direction.

Well, little do the professors know that I am on to their precious and diabolical little scheme, and, as an answer to this unexpected conspiracy I have just revealed to you, I propose that …

I’m sorry, I’ve just talked to my editor, and apparently he claims that every good student is already aware of this conspiracy, and not only that, but it is how the system has always, and openly, been set up.

I find this extremely difficult to believe, and, in fact, the moment he told me this I automatically responded by saying, “Yeah, next you’ll be telling me Mexican jumping beans don’t really jump.”

His reply frightened me so much I’ll wisely refrain from telling you what it was.

Well, my world has been turned upside down, and I hope you remain aware that your world is on the verge of tipping as well. My editor suggests the answer to the ultimate conspiracy is to actually study and learn in order to score high on the professor’s secret learning scale.

Well, that’s nice for those of us who are stupid enough to fall right into that obviously demented trap, but I, instead, propose the age-old and proven methods of procrastination, laziness and ignorance.

They haven’t failed me yet. Of course, if I ever would have learned the alphabet correctly, I’d know whether a “D” was closer to an “A” or “F” by now, but that’s beside the point.

Marty Reeder is

a junior majoring in

English education.

Comments can be sent to

martr@cc.usu.edu