Bingham lies between San Antonio
and Carrizozo
on US 380, a stretch of road the residents of Bingham have pretty much
to themselves. It was a good stopping point on my way down to Roswell,
so I poked my head into the store to get some cider and to...well,
you know - it's a long way to Roswell. It was there that I was
given
my copy of the Free American Newspaper and read for the first time
about
Secret Government Mind Control Projects and other conspiracies.
When I hit the road again I
started to think
about conspiracies and whether I knew about any personally. The only
one
I could think of was one that I fell for in college. I had heard
that
there was a little girl down in El Paso who needed time on a dialysis
machine,
and that for every aluminum can pull-tab I collected, some big-hearted
conglomerate would donate a minute of time to her on the machine. That
turned out to be a hoax, and it made me think what else I might believe
unquestioningly that was nothing but malarky (sp?).
For example, the guiding truths of my childhood were:
1) Frogs can't burp so if you make them drink Coca-Cola,
they explode;
2) The kid who played Mikey in the Life Cereal commercials died from
eating
Pop Rocks; and
3) If you get really dizzy from spinning in one direction, spinning in
the opposite direction will undo the dizziness.
With the exception of number one,
which I'm
still sure has to be true, I'd be willing to bet that these "truths"
are anything but. That means that my entire adolescence was built up
around
flimsy empirical reasoning. It's a wonder I made it into adulthood
alive.