It’s summertime, and even those of us who’ve still got enough money to go on holiday daren’t leave the country for fear of not being allowed back in, whether because we’ve ended up on some sort of Covid-10 “red list” or been classed as “a bit foreign-looking” under the new Home Office immigration guidelines.
And in these days of the so-called “pandemic”, those of us who are too switched on to be taken in by what “they” tell you need to share intel, in order to stay one step ahead of The Man and his sheeple. So with this in mind, we present The Conspiracy Theorist’s Guide To UK Holidays…
THE HIGHLANDS AND LOCHS OF SCOTLAND
Truly unparalleled scenery; every heartrending vista is drenched in history and legend. And they’ve got a dinosaur. A whole bloody dinosaur in a loch. Nobody’s ever seen it but everyone knows it’s there. If they can hide a dinosaur, who KNOWS what else they could be hiding…
Perhaps Britain’s most beautiful city; from the medieval knots of the Old Town to the Enlightenment elegance of the New Town, come to Edinburgh and marvel at the way the laws of space and time are being DELIBERATELY TAMPERED WITH. How else do you explain the fact that everywhere in Edinburgh is uphill from everywhere else?
England’s most bustling city, packed full of bars, restaurants, clubs, museums, shopping centres and the site of MK Ultra’s longest-running and most successful mind-control experiment. Don’t believe me? Okay, go up to a Scouser, try to have a conversation about something other than The Beatles and see how far you get. IT’S BEEN FIFTY YEARS. TALK ABOUT SOMETHING ELSE.
They can’t. They’ve been brainwashed. All of them.
Just over an hour’s drive from Liverpool lies a magical country of rolling hills, lush valleys, beautiful coastline and friendly locals who speak a COMPLETELY MADE-UP LANGUAGE. Can you read a word of it? NO, you can’t. Because it’s NOT A REAL LANGUAGE. Look at it. It’s got NO VOWELS. How can a language have no vowels? You can’t understand them but you can be certain that they understand YOU…
And the village out of The Prisoner is there. The actual Prisoner village. IT’S REAL.
THE LAKE DISTRICT
That’s not a district. FINCHLEY’S a district, but that place covers hundreds of square miles and is full of massive lakes! What are they hiding? Lake District? Lake DISTRACT, more like.
THE PEAK DISTRICT
See above, except mountains.
So just how does the economy of a whole city subsist entirely on vintage clothes emporiums, second-hand record stores and artisanal bakers? We don’t know either, but they bloody manage it, don’t they? SOMETHING IS GOING ON.
The charming East Sussex seaside town, to which thousands of visitors flock every year AND NEVER LEAVE ALIVE.
You think it’s CREAM in those “cream teas”? It’s SOY cream, sapping your manhood and turning you into a cringing Beta boy. Those old ladies running those tea rooms, they never seem to have a husband around, do they? Almost as if they’ve decided us men are all OBSOLETE.
Seriously? Well okay, sure, if you don’t mind having 6G radiation being blasted into your system by every lamppost; MI5, 6 AND 7 monitoring your every move and The Secret World setting up shop right before your subliminal advertising-dazzled eyes.
Go ahead, visit the nation’s “capital”. Drink “beer”. Eat fish and chips (or should that be fish and MICROCHIPS???).
YOUR OWN HOUSE
You may think you’re safe here, but you’re wrong. The TV is watching your every move! So is your fridge; it’s monitoring all your dietary habits and sending the data back to BIG GROCERY. So by all means, stay in your own home, but be sure to smash every piece of electronic equipment and retreat to…
UNDER YOUR BED
Yes, down here under the bed you’re safe from all electronic surveillance devices and you can relax. Just be careful not to accidentally open the dimensional portal. ALL beds have a dimensional portal underneath them. How else do you think the MONSTERS get down there?
It’s probably not worth the risk. All things considered, the best place for you to spend your holiday is…
IN YOUR WARDROBE
Nothing can get you in here. Nobody can see you and nobody can reach you. Unless of course, Narnia is real, and let’s face it, only really CRAZY people believe that.
POEM OF THE WEEK
I’d like to start a conspiracy
Start one on my own
I know “conspiracy” implies
You can’t do it alone
But I want to have my very own
Then nobody would know the truth
Except, of course for me.
I might have one already
Conspiracy, I mean
Each evening in my kitchen
With myself I might convene
To silently discuss the truths
I hide inside my head
I’d cackle evilly for a while
And then I’d go to bed.