QAnon conspiracy theories make 2020 stranger than ever

 

This post was printed in the Wilson Times Aug. 21, 2020

 

Just when you think politics and Congress can’t get much crazier, you find out they actually can.

            November’s election might put eleven adherents to the way-out conspiracy theory/cult/religion/political movement known as QAnon in the U.S. House of Representatives. Marjory Taylor Greene’s win in the Republican primary for Georgia’s 14^th Congressional District has raised some alarm or second thoughts among some voters and politicians. Greene won the primary in a district that never toys with Democratic candidates. Her primary win was, as they used to say about Democratic primary results in North Carolina, “tantamount to election.”

            Short of a resignation or a major health problem, Greene is going to join the House of Representatives, and she might not be alone. We could end up with a “Q” Caucus in the House.

            The FBI has labeled QAnon a domestic terrorism threat. Facebook has abolished one QAnon group with a reported 200,000 members for violating membership rules. QAnon has not been removed from all social media, however. Estimates of followers on social media are as high as 300 million worldwide.

            These actions have forced QAnon out of the shadows, at least a little. QAnon is still filled with mystery, beginning with the identity of the anonymous leader of the group, a philosopher/prophet whose insights, predictions and allegations are eagerly awaited by followers.

            What’s the conspiracy all about? No one, other than Q himself/herself, knows the details. Loosely, it alleges that there is a “Deep State” conspiracy to overthrow the Trump administration, or something like that. “The Storm,” in Q parlance is an anticipated global war, which is said to be coming soon. The conspiracy is beginning to get some attention from the news media, including a cover story in the June issue of The Atlantic and an article in the Washington Post headlined “QAnon is a menace; ignoring it isn’t an option.”

            QAnon sprang into the public’s attention in October 2016, when Edgar Maddison Welch of Salisbury, N.C., decided to take matters into his own hands after he read about a Q claim that a pizza parlor in Northwest Washington, D.C., was actually a front for a pedophile ring that included Hillary Rodham Clinton. Welch traveled to Washington and barged into the Comet Ping Pong pizzeria wielding his AR-15 rifle and a revolver. Welch demanded to see the children he had been told were part of a child sex ring operating out of the basement of Comet Ping Pong.

            There was no basement in the small pizzeria. Undeterred, Welch fired a few rounds with his rifle and forced open a locked door at the back of the pizzeria. He thought it must be the secret chamber where captive children were being abused. It wasn’t. It was a closet. Embarrassed, Welch laid down his weapons and surrendered to police. “The intel on this wasn’t 100 percent,” he told the New York Times. It wasn’t even 10 percent. Welch was sentenced to four years.

            Q communicates with his followers through enigmatic, official-sounding messages posted online and through brief aphorisms, which are called “crumbs.” (Why does that make me think of fecal incontinence?) Q predicted that Hillary Clinton would be arrested, along with co-conspirators, on Oct. 30, 2017, followed by a violent, nationwide uprising. That didn’t happen, but the Q faithful are still believers.

            The whole QAnon phenomenon is proof of the gullibility of many Americans, whose fertile imaginations cannot settle for bland reality. President Trump could probably put a stop to this ridiculousness with one simple declaration, but he won’t do it. Some followers believe Trump is Q.