Conspiracy Theories Are the Ultimate Grilled Cheese Sandwich

I admit it. I love conspiracy theories. I love doing deep dives, discovering unknown information, and solving puzzles. I love it as much as the next person…within reason.

For as many crack-pot theories hatched, investigated, and proven false, it’s those tiny, nuanced incidents that are, in fact, true (usually found with a caption like “10 Things You Didn’t Know About…”) that keep me hungry for more.

I’m not the only one. I have a theory as to why —

Conspiracies are like the ultimate grilled cheese sandwich. Everything about a grilled cheese sandwich is wonderful. No matter what kind of ingredients are used to make one, the result is a delicious dietary masterpiece. It has no age restraints or class system rungs to climb, and it’s tough to mess up:

Dolloped with tomatoes, mayo, and bacon bits — Outstanding! Layered with luscious Gouda, thinly sliced Muenster, crisped in brown garlic butter on Sourdough — Amazing! It can be classic, melted butter and some Cheddar on White — Perfect! No matter what, it’s still a damn good sandwich and something people return to time and time again.

Why? Because it’s comforting.

The ratio of comfort one person needs versus their next-door neighbor varies. However, the need to self-soothe is innate to everyone (even if the calming means are on the destructive side). It’s the same reason conspiracy theories exist.

Conspiracies are a point to focus on. They are an adrenaline rush when the reality of the same old feels flat (no, Flat-Earthers, not that kind of flat). And unknown truths (real or imaginary) revealed have an anesthesia effect. Here’s how it works:

The intense question one has that gets them to investigate backwater canals or meet in some subterranean parking lot with Deep Throat is an adrenaline kick. Whenever hard-to-get information is finally gotten, it produces a dopamine hit.

The more adrenaline spikes and those good-feeling dopamine fixes happen, the more we crave. It’s like when you’ve been dieting your butt off and then bite into a greasy, melty grilled cheese — Bam! Heaven (with a splash of not-supposed-to rebellion as a garnish). But don’t blame the consumer. Blame the pusher.

Believers are just junkies trapped in an insatiable web pushed by fearmongers. No different than cheesemongers handing out temptations on toothpicks at your local grocery store. Make no mistake, these are dealers, except with a hairnet and name tag.

However, just like one cannot live on grilled cheese alone, there’s a difference between a hobbyist theorist (like me) and a full-blown, wears-camo-and-a-helmet-at-all-times conspiracy nutcase. Don’t worry! Not everything is a recipe for disaster!

The key to a healthy conspiracy appetite is to ensure the distance between intrigue and the pursuer’s real life is far enough. To be clear, everyday boring life cannot coincide with any conspiracy chaos — otherwise — Bam! Weapon Arsenals and backyard bunkers.

Also, there needs to be a break between deep dives — remember the movie, The Firm, when the corrupt corporate lawyers explain one cannot go scuba diving and then jump on an airplane within twenty-four hours?

An enthusiast cannot go hours and hours, weeks and weeks isolated inside the information rabbit hole. They must pry their bloodshot eyes from their computer screen and look at the clouds periodically (a walk around the block does wonders to stay grounded. So is engaging with non-theorists — talk about anything else! Talk about cheese — you big ol’ Turophile freak!)

Whether satisfying your cerebral craving (tracking Big Foot or cracking cold cases) or getting a culinary kick (consuming a melted cheese concoction), ultimately, the drive comes down to a crucial humanistic factor — enjoyment via escapism. And perhaps the next time you sit down to chomp on the latest conspiracy, you’ll remember the true secret recipe for indulgence and restraint is balance.