By Nate Odenkirk | Staff Writer
Lance McGuinness has dedicated years of his life to investigating the eye on the back of the one dollar bill. He spends his days in a rented conference room with other “eye-truthers” in front of a large corkboard complete with names, barely relevant ramblings, and a highly abridged and editorialized timeline of the American treasury. “All the evidence is here in this corkboard—the challenge now is to connect it all together,” he insists. But his plans were thwarted when he found out that the arts and crafts store near him had been sold out of red string for months.
Over the last year, supplies of red string have mysteriously dropped by as much as 97%—why?
“Who cares?” Most say.
“We do” say the underemployed men behind conspiracies of all flavors.
Red string is a staple for all conspiracists looking to tenuously connect the dots. Who is buying this red string, and why are they silencing the ersatz investigations? “The red string mystery has completely consumed everything else,” notes Jason Reed, a famed Sasquatch (“‘Quatch”) peddler. The interview took place as Reed was attempting to open a candy bar. “Think about it: we all need red string, so now everyone with their own little theory thinks that their pet project is somehow connected as well. So Area 51, ‘Quatch, aincent astronauts, MH370 passengers, JFK, what have you, all of the interested parties are in kahoots. To me?” he thinks for a moment. “It would make sense.”
He then pointed to grainy security camera footage which he alleges show short aliens entering a Michael’s and purchasing numerous supplies including red string. “They could also be children,” he concedes. “We will get to the truth. I don’t give up easily!” said Reed as he threw the candy bar across the room in frustration.
If the image of Sasquatch, the illuminati, and John Fitzgerald Kennedy soliciting arts and crafts stores for red string across America undetected seems far-fetched, you are in good company. “The idea that all these entities would ‘team up’ is preposterous,” said Perry Harding, a “Nessy” enthusiast who has since shifted his efforts to the red string conspiracy. “It’s obviously one conspiracy theorist buying it all who needs a lot of red string, and when he’s ready to show people, it’ll be on one big corkboard. They may even have a second corkboard, for all we know.” The “one guy with a lot of conspiracies” hypothesis has since gained acceptance in the wider community of MENSA rejects. Harding mused that the conspiracy is so big that it likely includes some new ones that they haven’t even thought of yet, but he has no evidence to prove that such a man exists out there, besides the lack of red string.
Without the red string, conspiracy theories are in grave danger of losing all credibility. “If you just have photographs and post-it notes up on a corkboard with no red string, you look like a lunatic,” McGuinness admits. “You need the string to be official. That’s their plan: they know we have them cornered; they are trying to discredit us.” When asked precisely who “they” was, and why they care so much about these strange theories, McGuinness repeated that they need the string to look official.
Without the red string, conspiracy theories are in grave danger of losing all credibility.
One other far more legitimate (though still goofy) occupation is hindered by this disappearance of red string. Detectives and sleuths can no longer use red string to demonstrate relationships on corkboards filled with mob hierarchies or political bribes. In fact, high profile investigations into pay-to-play schemes have already been dropped because the lack of red string led to confusion as to who was connected to what. “We would investigate which organization is stealing all of this red string, but, you know, then we would need red string. It’s a catch-22,” said Private Eye Wyce Jobo. “Stealing red string is a perfect crime…almost too perfect,” Detective Jobo noted as he took a draw from his unlit pipe.
At the end of it all, most conspiracists are disappointed that they no longer go to arts and craft stores. “That was the best part of all of this, actually going out of the house and looking at cool supplies for our corkboards. The red string was an excuse for us to interact with people,” said Reed with a dash of sadness as he chewed on the straw for his Double Big Gulp. “Without that, what’s the point?” ♦
The Inquirist endeavors to unmask shadowy truths behind conspiracies, paranormalities, and othersuch concealments with top-notch journalism and hunch-based reporting. Read similar articles here.
Artwork by @roziodraws