Worse, we live in a nation where our commander-in-chief, if not completely convinced he's a force of Biblical prophecy, is dangerously myopic in his world view. And we have countless fundamental Christians running around screaming "apocalypse" in every geological fart. These are tense, anxious times; even if it isn't the apocalypse, there are enough wackos of all kinds eager to play some part in whatever ridiculous obsession they're cultivating.
Every believer in a conspiracy theory is, on some level, trying to explain his own sense of powerlessness in the face of existential anguish. They yearn for a purpose, a place, a mission, and if they can actually do something, like, say, help spark a race war like the aforementioned, deluded Manson believed he was doing, all the better.
It's all quite disconcerting. In a time when great personal changes must take place if we're to save the planet from environmental destruction (maybe that'sthe true Antichrist), we'd rather obsess over some fairy-tale battle between great supernatural forces that treat us like cattle and pawns. It's a collective sense of personal abdication. It's pointless, selfish and suicidal.
Unless . . .
Stay tuned . . . and check the foreheads of any spooky-looking kids while you're at it.