Photo courtesy Creative Commons // Edits by Mariah Wilson

My experience joining the Illuminati

By Matthew Herring, Oct 22 2019 —

There’s nothing quite like the liberating feeling of scrolling through your phone notifications and seeing that you have a new direct message request on Instagram. Usually a landmine filled with bot accounts trying to get the credit card and social security information of horny men, it’s exciting when a real live human being is able to crawl their way through the trenches and land in my DMs. It’s an especially exhilarating experience when their profile claims that they are part of the Illuminati and are from “Illuminativille, USA.” And, just like any rational person, when such an elusive DM appears, I accept it.

Let’s set the stage real quick: I am on my path to joining the world’s biggest and not-so-secret society, the Illuminati. Assisting me on my journey to power and riches is recruitment agent Paul Johnson. After creating a WhatsApp account using an anonymous telephone number given by Paul, I was in the fast lane heading down the highway — straight to Illuminativille.

I lusted after what Paul offered me. The possibilities of money, fame and power flooded my mind and I knew this was a once in a lifetime opportunity that I would be stupid not to pursue. However, I did have my doubts about the legitimacy of Paul’s claims. How was I to know that he is truly a member of the great Illuminati? After asking some simple questions and learning that the Illuminati does not under any circumstances expect “blood or human sacrifices,” Paul made it very explicit that I was not being scammed. And if there’s one thing I’ve learned throughout my days, it’s that when someone tells you that they are not a scammer, they have to be telling the truth. 

I was so close. I could see the Illuminati’s iconic pyramid just over the horizon. After giving Paul my family’s names, addresses, emails, occupations, wages and everything else you could imagine someone asking for, it was finally time for my initiation. I was to go visit the official Illuminati temple in Portland, Oregon. The Big Apple. I was excited, thrilled, eager and even a bit nervous. My acceptance into the Illuminati felt so close. It was tangible.  

Despite the relatively smooth sailing, I soon hit a roadblock. Before my initiation was set to take place, I was required to spend $350 USD on items to assist in the initiation ceremony. Now even though I fully trusted Paul, there was a hint of doubt in the back of my mind that caused me to question his true intentions. What alarmed me the most immediately was how Paul mentioned that candles were required for the initiation, but never mentioned if they were to be scented. When I asked if they should smell like vanilla or not, Paul snapped at me. On top of that, when I suggested that I could buy the required mustard seed from the grocery store on my nightly Mountain Dew run, he thought I was messing with him and told me that he has no time for jokes. Even though it was destroying our relationship, I had to be sure that Paul wasn’t just trying to extort money out of me.

Then the real conflict arose. I was ready to pay for my initiation items, but I sadly did not have enough money to cover the $350 fee. After smashing my piggy bank and checking all of my couch cushions for loose change, all I could muster up was a measly $50. I knew this would not suffice, so I offered Paul all $150 worth of the Red Lobster gift cards that I had sitting in my room. I pictured that maybe someday Paul and I could eat at the Red Lobster together. Sadly, Paul refused this offer and requested I find another way to pay. Immediately I came to the brilliant conclusion that if I didn’t have the money myself, I could just steal it. After scouring my mother’s purse, all I could find is a lousy American Express card that expired back in February 2014. I asked Paul if this will work, but he said it will not. I told Paul that I did not have the money to pay him. He told me I could pay him the $50 that I have now, but I refuse. The Illuminati deserves more than that.

As I reflect on my journey into the Illuminati, I’ve realized that maybe fame and power wasn’t what I truly desired. In the end, it doesn’t matter that I never made it to Illuminativille, USA. It doesn’t matter that I never got my Illuminati candle or mustard seed. What matters is the connection I made on the way. If I had never delved into the new world order, I would have never learned about human sacrifices. I would have never gained the life experience of attempted credit card fraud. Most of all, I would have never met Paul. 

This article is part of our humour section.



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