top of page

"The Last Conspiracy Theory" by Brenda Anderson

Wake Up, Sheeple! We bring you RICE IN SPACE, the greatest conspiracy of all time. Space itself, of course, is a giant cover-up but don’t sweat it. Forget the dark side of the moon. Instead, think ‘dark matter.’

What a joke. It’s actually BLACK RICE. South of the equator you’ll find it in specialty shops. In the past, only the rich could afford it. In space, it’s, like, totally invisible against all that inky nothingness.

Newsflash! We’ve identified a bumper crop of black rice in and around space debris, aka JUNK. You get the connection between black rice and space debris, don’t you?

Ultimate Supremacy.

Black rice traditionally feeds the good folk of the warm, water-logged tropics. Due to all-weather issues they now run a cross-border Embassy for Ruined Farmers.

Ruined, you say? Why?

Because the Powers That Be have outsourced rice growing. Incredible, right? This particular rice is now grown in mini-orbit round all the junk orbiting Earth where, naturally, it’s invisible. Black on black, right? When the time’s right, those (name deleted) will send a Metal Salvage Team, and pay Ruined Farmers to harvest rice. Here’s where it gets interesting. Back on Earth, they’ll hand over the rice to one of the Anti-Famine Groups, which then make food drops on all the war-torn, starving parts of the globe. The grateful army of the starved will snatch the food parcels and rush off to cook said rice, and why not? It’s nutty, wholesome, delicious, a complete meal. Except the same irradiation that’s permitted said rice to grow in a vacuum environment in space will also turn the Grateful near-Dead into willing tools of (name deleted).

The Starving will crave more and more.

They’ll besiege everyone else’s Embassies and demand citizenship. They’ll do anything to get that rice.

Think mayhem. Bosch. The Horsemen of the Apocalypse, a’ comin’ at ya.

Remember, the third Horse is Black, and represents FAMINE.

Do you feel the hot breath of that Horse?

Do you see the immensity of this vile conspiracy?

We suggest the following ACTION PLAN:

Donate to your favourite Abolish World Poverty charity. (Anything but rice.)

Check the colour of your food. Is it natural? Does it contain additives you don’t understand/need/want?

Those numbers in brackets? Do they add up to 999?

Here’s the recommended course of action:


(signed) Armageddon Outta Here

Brenda Anderson's fiction has appeared in various places, including Daily Science Fiction and Wyngraf. She lives in Adelaide, South Australia and tweets irregularly @CinnamonShops

bottom of page