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01/9/25   
Featured in the upcoming documentary Web of Lies

I Fear the Olsen Twins Are Space Pilgrims

by Red Bagel
bio/email
February 18, 2002
I do not wish to set a precedent for presenting unfounded conspiracy theories to the American public. I have stringent guidelines for material I accept and in turn present to you, and if I have no evidence I deem concrete, say pictures, documents, or someone has mentioned it to me at a night club, I file it away upstairs (in the attic) until something solid presents itself. However, my fears cannot stay quieted. I have begun to theorize the Olsen Twins are space pilgrims.

The cuddly Olsen Twins from ABC's Full House and countless straight-to-video productions? The same, conspiracy buffs.

The wide-eyed, thin-smiled pre-pubescent clones may seem innocent enough, especially to the young or retarded. But the more innocent the doily the more insidious the teapot lurking underneath, or so my mad grandmother used to say.

It is my theory that the Olsen Twins in fact started out as one baby, born to an American woman impregnated with alien DNA during an abduction—this is not news, of course, the whole alien abduction/impregnated with alien DNA is so old school conspiracy theory it's fairly boring. The interesting aspect here, and I've been looking into this, is that the baby quickly acclimated superhuman intelligence and formed a scheme with its mother where she profits from its salary while the alien baby infiltrated American consciousness at its most cultish level—television. Of course, the trend is to hire twins to play one character on television, mostly for children but this also works well for any show starring Pamela Anderson. At that point the baby split itself into two separate beings, which explains why no one can tell them apart.

The story from there is an easy and predictable one. Aliens grow up, aliens work inhuman hours producing sub-par CDs, movies, and dolls. Aliens develop a loyal following of kids too young to comprehend the danger they pose.

I label this "phase one." It only gets worse from here.

I will gather evidence and shatter the blockade that holds the conspiracy in. I have nothing to go on right now but sheer gusto and a distrust of the creepy aliens, but I've had feelings like this before and trusted them, the most notable when I uncovered the downfall of laserdiscs.

What's next on the agenda of these twisted aliens, if unhindered? Colonization, that's what. Duh, that's always what aliens come to other planets for. In fact, I would say as soon as the hideous space pilgrims achieve a higher popularity they will initiate "phase two." The only thing that has delayed phase two thus far is poor production values and flimsy plotlines.

"Phase two" will find the alien organic matter splitting and multiplying once again, this time into millions if not thousands, or billions, and might take up to three months. But by the time we have realized the abuse of nature going on, we will be trapped in the claw of alien pilgrims.

Then begins "phase three," which is kind of iffy, I'm not really sure which way that could go. They'll surely suck our planet dry of resources, that's a given. Whether it's slave labor or food for us I'm not sure, I'm sort of hopeful for the food angle, at least you assume it'll be quicker. But there's no real way to tell until phase two starts rolling. It's even possible alien technology has a way of turning carbon-based lifeforms into fuel for their space craft, that would be awesome.

Which is to say, I hope it doesn't get that far. But we must be wary. This battle is far from over. It hasn't even yet begun. Most people don't even believe there's a battle. I'll have to look into it more.


Quote of the Day
the commune is back? All right! Wait, what the fuck is the commune? What? Now I’m going to kick your ass for getting me excited for nothing.”

-Ron Tangley
Fortune 500 Cookie
This is the week everything changes for you. Yep, even those underwear. Go get a spatula. We all agree that your breasts are attractive, but usually a guy needs a follow-up act to really reel in the ladies. Try learning to play the lute this week, just carrying it around isn’t impressing anyone. This week’s lucky fuckers: Fucker G. Robinson (the world’s second-richest and seventh-most-unfortunately-named man), mother, Megan Fox’s boyfriend, and whoever’s sleeping with that hot girl on the Morton’s Salt container (oh get over it, she’s totally grown up by now).

Try again later.
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