There are several ways to deal with conspiracy theories and urban legends. You can give them a long look, shrug, and move about your day. You can do what Big Tin Foil wants and believe that shit from the bottom of your heart. Or you can do what I do and get angry that these fucking things are never put to good use. These absurd tales soak up a ton of mankind's collective brain-space, and though they admittedly focus on the part that's not too likely to find the cure for cancer, I'd argue they should totally be forced to earn their keep ... by entertaining us. As I've mentioned before, a lot of these batshit crazy theories would make kickass movies, and I'm actually kind of pissed they're so rarely adapted to the silver screen. It's a license to print money, people!
STEPHEN WEBSTER/The Image Bank/Getty Images
This is how the economy works, right?
Halloween is around the corner, and the Internet is currently in the process of sinking elbow-deep in a delicious, pumpkin-spice-flavored mess of ghosts, goblins, and general Samhain madness. With that in mind, I decided to dig up a very specific batch of my favorite nutcase theories from the nether pits of the 'net, ones that are clearly horror movies in the making.
Come, friends, step with me into the dark and stormy night to explore the madness.
#4. Denver Airport Is Where Every Conspiracy Goes to Hang Out
To the casual passenger, any airport can be a veritable hellmouth. The food sucks, the people who work there are unfriendly due to the soul-sucking nature of working at a goddamn airport, the price of a beer makes Rupert Murdoch go, "Whoa." In an environment like this, a single canceled flight can send you screeching head-first into madness. So, really, it's no surprise that there are airport-themed conspiracy theories. What is surprising, however, is that almost all of them focus on a single place: Denver International Airport. The site is a hotspot for various, usually New World Order-themed conspiracy theories that basically paint the place as a thinly veiled front for a massive murder factory fueled by the Illuminati Nazi devil. These are based on its supposedly swastika-shaped runway layout ...
Federal Aviation Administration
"But Bob, that's not really a swas-"
"Is too! La la la, can't hear you!"
... its capstone with Masonic symbols ...
"Bob, aren't Freemasons mostly politicians and bankers and other people who already kind of rule the world
to the extent that it can be ruled, which is not much?"
"LA LA LA LA LA!"
... its deranged murals ...
... and, of course, my old pal El Mesteno, a 32-foot, sculptor-murdering equine beast that guards the airport, better known around these parts as "Oh Shit Run It's the Giant Hellhorse." Hi, El Mesteno!
Helen H. Richardson/Denver Post/Getty Images
"'SUP, DUDE. POKER NIGHT STILL ON?"
So, you know. The place is totally either a conspiracy site or thoroughly haunted, at the very least by giant blue horse testicles.
I kid, of course. Denver International Airport is almost certainly just a regular airport with some admittedly esoteric artistic choices, and even if it did hold some secrets, it's unlikely to be the creep-zone conspiracy nuts enjoy painting it as. But what if they were right? Can you think of a better place for a truly scary horror movie than Denver International Airport? Or, for that matter, any airport? They're basically massive cattle carriers for people, and as such come pre-equipped with a heaping helping of rootlessness and anxiety, and that very peculiar "something's not right" feeling that is the basic ingredient of any good horror flick. You're neither here nor there at an airport; you could almost say they exist between planes.
Up on the Mountain of Comedy, the dick joke ninja senses a terrible pun and begins his journey to punish the culprit.
There are virtually unlimited paths for an imaginative horror filmmaker, here. They could just keep the airport as creepy background for some good, old-fashioned Eli Roth-style torture-porn conspiracy. They could have a blue-horse-mask-wearing serial killer stalking the grounds, or just have all that masonic/satanic/Nazi crap be true and make some unholy Hitler poltergeist (Hiltergeist?) haunt the airport. Hell, even if they took a total camp route, at least we'd be treated to Nicolas Cage (you know it would be him) running from old El Mesteno.
You'd watch the shit out of that shit; don't pretend that you wouldn't.
"Giant blue demon-horse balls? Can ... can we bring back the bees, please?"
#3. The Franklin Expedition Was Eaten by Giant Aliens
Constantini Michele/PhotoAlto Agency RF/Getty Images
Much like frontier settlers, mountaineers, and people who voluntarily stand in lines for new iPhones, 19th-century Arctic explorers were in for a rough life with massive risks. The 1845 Arctic expedition of Captain Sir John Franklin found this out the hard way, as they perished to the last man in a conga line of tragedy: shipwreck, disease, lead poisoning due to badly tinned food and/or faulty distilled water systems, and the fact that they were deserted in the goddamn Arctic without adequate equipment, eventually drove the 129-strong group to cannibalism and an early grave.
Of course, there's no telling what would have happened if the giant aliens hadn't eaten them all.
"To be fair, we didn't mean to eat all of them, but Victorian sailors are like Pringles."
According to this particular theory, the doomed Franklin expedition was unfortunate enough to stumble on an awful secret that the higher-ups of the British Empire had been hiding: the Arctic area was teeming with giant super-beings that had control over radiation and could levitate whole ships, a handy skill when your opponent/lunch rolls into your backyard using that exact mode of transport.
What I love about this theory is that the book (yes, there's an actual book about this) makes a promise to "follow all the clues, wherever they may lead," then twists a few notes, chewed bones, and Inuit campfire stories into a tale that manages to somehow be against everything we know about everything, and deduces that clearly the British admiralty managed to cover up an infestation of massive, radiation-spewing telekinetic aliens running amok in the Arctic so that no one in history save for the author has caught wind of them. That's ... a pretty solid performance, as stiff upper lips go.
As for the movie possibilities of this theory -- shit, take your pick. A 19th-Century The Thing? A Victorian Aliens? Hell, the fact that the author says the aliens were giants (not to mention the radiation thing) could even open up the Kaiju route here.
You know what? Just make all of those movies, and throw in an Arctic Victorian Hellraiser to boot. I'll watch them all, if no one else will. And isn't that what really matters, Hollywood?