Once upon a time, we thought this kind of thing was confined to the nutcases you met in regular life.

You think you know someone. You hang out, exchange emails. Make a few jokes. Maybe you work with them. Then, one day, out of the blue, you discover they are a firm believer in the upcoming zombie apocalypse. Or the next Messiah.

Even better, they are the new Messiah.

I lived in Jerusalem for almost 9 years. Big surprise, you meet a lot of people who are sure they are Jesus Christ come back to finish his work on Earth. One of them worked at the local pizza joint and seemed normal, until in the middle of a casual conversation, he would drop a bomb about his mission. And there you were, transported to wacko central. But he made pretty good pizza.

I had a casual friend who was a piano player. He sang and played at fancy hotel bars, like the Hilton Hotel. He was an American, so it was inevitable we would meet. We struck up a little chatty relationship. One night, he called and invited me over. He had something important to tell me.

aluminum foil 1

Important? Our relationship consisted of reminiscing about life in the U.S. in the 1960s — and I’d done his horoscope. I was (coincidentally) the astrology columnist and managing editor of a short-lived English-language weekly. Please, let’s not discuss astrology or my psychic abilities (or lack thereof). You don’t want to know and I don’t want to tell you.

Having nothing better to do at the time, I walked over to his house (just around the corner) and we got to talking. Suddenly, I knew. He was going to tell me:

  • He was an alien and came from on another planet — or galaxy.
  • He was Jesus Christ.

The latter. Jesus again. He wanted me, because of my brilliant psychic abilities, to be Paul and spread the word. I worked very hard to tell him that his timing was off and I would be sure to advise him when the right moment arrived. Then I fled into the night and home. He was one of several people who convinced me there was no future for me in the psychically predictive arts.

Now, the people who run our government … the government of The United States of America … are as fruit-loopy as anyone I’ve met in my travels through the years. I don’t know whether to laugh, cry, or do both at the same time … but I am absolutely certain of one thing.

I need a good, sturdy, tinfoil hat. 


Then there was the guy I worked with at one or another of the many high-tech companies at which I was employed, who one day informed me of his intention to quit his job and move to an underground bunker. In anticipation of the upcoming apocalypse. Not zombie. Regular. I hadn’t even done his horoscope. It turns out he may have been more right than I possibly understood at the time.

So it’s not the weird people you bump into at work or at the grocery or pizza joint. It’s your government. My government. The big one. With all the money. And nuclear bombs and rockets and an army and Lunatic Numero Uno is at the very top of this.

Does he have a good aluminum foil hat? Could that be the problem?

The thing about people who believe in cabals, believe they came on an alien space craft, or will be leaving on one shortly, is you can’t argue with them. They believe what they believe. Absolutely. Don’t bother with facts, their minds are made up. What if they think I am one of their (many, many, many) enemies? Pass the aluminum foil. I need a another hat.

NOTE: Buy the super long roll of foil. The ultra strong stuff. Better hats.


  1. When I first hit the Net back in the late 1990s, I ran into a fella like that on the first message board I found. He seemed nice enough, rational, friendly, bright. Then one afternoon we were talking back and forth and he mentioned that he had to go soon. Turns out that the President was on TV and had a special message for him. I mentally did a double take. “message?” oh yes, he said. He always sends me coded messages when he speaks on TV. It’s how we communicate.


    These days with the ubiquitousness of cell phones, the otherly among us can roam freely, and talk to Jesus, Pope Harry, Uncle Wiggly, or the last President, and none of us will be any the wiser.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Sounds like a reboot of “The Alcoa Hour” which offered good drama back in the golden age of television.

      This week, “The Alcoa Hour” is proud to present Ed Wynn as ‘Agent Orange Aluminium’ in the prize winning drama, “Death of a Huckster”.

      First, a word from our sponsor — CRACKERJACK — don’t forget to look for your prize. It has a big head and tiny hands.

      Liked by 1 person

  2. I have had a roll of tin foil in the kitchen cupboard for a few years but only really use I for wrapping bred for the freezer as an emergency or covering stuff in the oven to stop it burning. Now there is a third use as a hat. Thanks for telling me. I know a few candidates for its use. They seem to be appearing everywhere, especially in politics. Must be the season.


  3. It’s strange isn’t it? I have met people, some of them perfectly nice and kindhearted who come out with the most bizarre beliefts. The earth is only 4,000 years old, the Holocaust didn’t happen, the moon landings were all faked, the CIA monitors every phone call and email on the planet. (Ok that one might be true.) I just wonder how they can believe such things when evidence to the contrary is all around them?


  4. I lived with a woman who thought she had a special connection with the dude in charge of PETA. He smiled at her through the television. She also thought I was running a drug ring from my room because I locked my door, so there’s that.

    But I could handle her…

    Then there was the guy who while we were parked in my car (I’d just given him a ride home) told me with all sincerity that he was visited regularly by aliens, and they needed him for something. I don’t remember what. He bent my ear for hours with it. Poor guy, he was probably lonely.

    But he was also easily handled.

    It’s my psycho ex that I couldn’t deal with. Him and Lord Dampnut would get along great. They think a lot of the same thoughts, and hey, my psycho ex kept that shit hidden for a LONG time, but once it came out, well, there was no hiding it anymore. And now that Lord Dampnut is in charge, I bet my ex is living large thinking his day has finally come. And that is truly frightening.


    1. The idea of ANY ex of mine actually running this country makes my blood run icy through my veins. Worst of all, I can almost see it in my tiny little brain. The first one has passed on, so he’s not going to The Big Chair in the Big White House. The other one lives in a different country. Phew on THAT. And Garry, who might not be the worst choice, says NO NO NO ANYTHING BUT THAT. That middle one. If he weren’t living on a different continent, I’d be actually scared.


  5. Great business idea, Marilyn – making aluminum hats! I bet they would sell big time. I was also considering bullet proof vests. Who knows what’s coming next? Oh – maybe you have some insight into this? Sorry, I’m not suppose to request input from your psychic abilities.


  6. I have just learned of a group of people who call themselves Pastafarians. They wear colanders on their heads. Wonder if that works better than tin foil. Fun fact: Back in 1946 my father, Eddie Green, filmmaker, owned a movie/tv studio in Los Angeles. He would dress my mother up in flowing scarves, put a dot in the middle of her forehead and feature her on a one minute spot on tv where she told fortunes. I guess he figured people would fall for anything.

    Liked by 2 people

  7. I love the latest turn around concerning Obama wiretapping Trump. Mr. T didn’t mean wiretapping but surveillance and he didn’t mean Obama but the Obama administration. Still no hint of proof, though. And no balls to stand up and say so for himself. He’s got people to do that for him.


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