psychology

The Talent of Delusion

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I’ve been thinking about Conspiracy theories a lot. I mean as my regular readers I know I do that anyway, but as 2025 is the age Conspiracy Theories and reality collide at lightspeed, I’m thinking more. Mostly I’m asking how did we get here – not in the exact causal sense, but how the Conspiracy Theorist mind works.

Lately among my readings, viewings, and podcast-listening I realized that Conspiracy Theory Believing requires skill.

If you’ve ever listened to someone go on about Conspiracy Theories, you realize they are retaining a complex alternate world inside their head. They have a skill to retaining and organizing that information about things that are, let us be honest, not true, sometimes bonkers, and often very bigoted under the skin. Yet these folks can recall it.

More than that, they are constantly resolving conflicts in their theories. Conspiracy Theorists are having the world collide with their beliefs all the time. New facts come in, the apocalypse doesn’t come, the hated (often female and/or PoC) politician resigns, the space lasers don’t fire. Conspiracy Theorists have to re-spin their tales all the time or else they have to question them, and if they questioned them they wouldn’t be Conspiracy Theorists. They’re maintenance experts on believing an illusion.

But Conspiracy Theorists also collide, believers who believe vaguely different things come together – and they display a talent for taking new input and combining them. This is the infamous “yes, and” discussions you can see among True Believers, where a person states one belief, and a slightly different believer agrees, then adds onto it. If you’ve witnessed a Conspiracy Theorist get on a good rant going at an event or in a conversation, you can see this happen at amazing speed as people ask questions.

(The Knowledge Fight podcast focuses on Alex Jones, but has covered other subjects, and in almost all cases you can see their subjects build mythology in real time.)

Conspiracy Theory is a skill, skill is similar to if not exactly the same as the worldbuilding done by writers, gamers, game designers, and artists. They have an ability to create on the fly, to recall vast information, and to adsorb and polish information. The jaw-dropping connections of a Tonspiracy Theorist are all too close to the clever ideas of a good writer to act like they’re not two branches of the same tree.

Conspiracy Theorists are easier to understand if you realize they had a skill at such creations (that they misused) or that they have developed it. It also means the evil grifters are even worse because they have some skill here and use it to screw up the world.

This gives me pause to other ways we might use such an insight to help those lost in these conspiracy worlds to get out.

  • We can recognize this “talent at fabulation” by asking “does this person sound like they’re worldbuilding?” It’s a key to detection. Also if the theorist in question is some evil grifter, we can help people avoid them.
  • If we’re trying to help the Conspiracy Theorist, realizing a skill is being deployed will allow us to help them find their way back with the various oft-discussed techniques.
  • This skill they developed might be channeled elsewhere. As facetious as it sounds, I wonder how many people who have developed this creative skill might find outlets elsewhere. I’m not saying they should write fiction, but who knows?

It’s strange as I think over this insight. I realize some people I’ve seen, some I despise, really do have a skill. It’s just been used or developed in ways making the world worse.

-Xenofact

A Chain of Tensions

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I do two forms of meditation – breathing and energy work. My breath meditation is refining a slow, even breath that I follow. My energy work (a form of Microcosmic Orbit) is harder to describe, but is is basically about “settling into” paths in my body and feeling and raising the “energy” within. What’s interesting is both forms of meditation lead to the same conclusion:

We are often amazingly tense.

Any form of meditation makes you more aware, and you’ll quickly become aware of how tense you are. It may not be painful or limiting tension (though it may be), but that odd tension, that bit of push-pull. It may not even by physical, but a few senses of odd division in your head and thoughts. Sometimes – many times – the mental and physical seem to be linked or the same thing.

It can be depressing or distracting depending on your experience and personality. Sitting down and meditating is like being locked in a straightjacket, and it’s a straightjacket that you always wear, but you only know about it during spiritual pursuits.

As you meditate and become aware of them – or in some forms of energy work “feel through them” – another thing comes to mind. A lot of what we think of as us is tension. Seriously, so much of what we think of as us is a pile of conflicts and walling ourselves off from the world and other parts of ourselves.

Our bodies and mind tense up as we are embarrassed. We seal off thoughts we don’t want to have, and enter into an eternal battle that defines who we are. Our fears of a situation tense our bodies up, ready to pounce, and that tension becomes a point of identity. We force ourselves to be certain people and do certain things, pitting tension against tension.

We’re a giant interlinked pile of tensions. The experience of this can be both enthralling and depressing when you get into meditation.

One one level it’s amazing and liberating to experience this. You suddenly see how much of you is just a bunch of conflicting stuff, a Rube Goldberg chain of neuroses and tense muscles. It’s no wonder some people have such insights in meditation and go wild about it – it’s liberating and overwhelming. I’ve had energy meditation sessions where the tensions drop away, and it’s like a thunderbolt shaking your body – it’s easy to take it so seriously you ruin it.

On another side, it’s kind of depressing. The “you” you’re used to is a janky collection of sensations and ideas and a lot of them are tensions. You’re you is always building giant walls to keep things out – building tensions (see my previous writing on “The Escape Capsule”). Your “you’ can seem awful lame when you see how much of it is self-limiting or avoidant. Nothing like looking at yourself and going “well that’s some stupid shit I’ve done for 30 years” and sitting with it.

It’s liberating and depressing to see the role of tension in our lives at the same time.

Me, I try to remember it’s just the way it is, and remember the Taoist references to refining our breath or refining our energies. I am what I am, my tensions are what I are. By my ever-tuned breath,I am refining myself like metal or purifying water. Discovering these tensions are milestones – signs I am doing something right, so I keep doing it.

But, honestly, sometimes I’m just amazed how much of “us” is just some form of tension or separation. I think that’s why we’re often envious of people with wild creativity or who are just chill – because so many of us are not that way.

-Xenofact

The Escape Capsule

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When I meditate (regular breath and energy circulation) sometimes I notice a peculiar thing. Namely, I notice myself – and why I’m there.

Somewhere in what I’m doing there’s a bit of me there, pulling away and sealing itself off. It’s peculiar because I’m both meditating but also trying to separate myself from meditating. On top of that I’m aware of me doing it, so I’m watching myself watching myself try to separate myself from what I’m doing.

No wonder some people find meditation hard, disturbing, or weird. Or they drop a few shrooms and wonder what the hell is going on. Self and ego is strange no matter what’s forcing you to confront it, but meditation is cheaper.

I’ve recently christened this thing The Escape Capsule (though, yes, I’ve seen other terms and references to it), and have been thinking about what it tells me.

Part of our identity is based on separation. There’s us and the other stuff in the world and the other stuff inside ourselves. We try to separate from the world and we try to separate the “real me” from the stuff we don’t like in ourselves. Some of our “me” is an attempt to not be things, to get away – thus I recently called it The Escape Capsie.

(I could go into I and Thou but perhaps later.)

The Escape Capsule is that idea we can wall ourselves off, and I think there’s a wiff of simplistic immortalism. We can cut ourselves off from everything else and get away from it forever. In fact, I think that sometimes our idea of an immortal, separate soul may well come from this human tendency to run away..

I mean if we can feel distant from everything doesn’t that mean there’s some separate us?

Of course as we all know identity and self isn’t that clear. We can’t wall ourselves off from parts of us as it’s all us. Whatever identity we imagine atop the rickety pyramid of self, the pyramid is a lot larger than what we pretend we are. Too often our fears, desires, memories, and reality intrude and the Escape Capsule doesn’t protect us.

Of course we know it doesn’t protect us from the world. The world is bigger. The world is where “me” comes from.

Seeing The Escape Capsule helps me understand myself and my flaws. I also am sure you, if you meditate, have also had moments where the walls of The Escape Capsule melt and you realize your you isn’t you. It’s quite something to be yourself while seeing yourself melt away. It’s also quite something to realize how much of your idea of yourself is based on not being something.

This is one thing I’ve come to appreciate about meditation. The goal is to do it – not “perfectly,” not well, not to have certain experiences. But being there in those moments where you just see, even if what you see is disturbing or humbling.

And there are moments you can’t get away.

-Xenofact