Above Top Secret
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On one hand, Above Top Secret (pronounced ATS) is a conspiracy and breaking news site manned by some of the brightest people on the planet. On another hand, it's a place where distracting ads try to grab your attention, and some actually float up out of nowhere and defy all attempts to capture or kill them. And on the last hand, the one that holds all the cards, ATS is a site occupied by inmates of mental hospitals and/or security agencies monitoring the populace to see where the crazy will go next.
ATS, whose motto is "Deny Ignorance" (users must post this at least once per day), is inhabited by thousands of administrators, geeks, scientists, pre-teens and pre-memes, and by good and bad writers of all descriptions and professions. It's inhibited by mothers calling their sons up to dinner. The smart people on ATS research, expose and report on the outlandishness popping up all around us, then dig in to expose the secrets from the deepest, darkest lurky-holes of history.
The not-so-smart people who troll ATS give it a go anyway, and come away with some friendly advice: STFU! Girls, here's your chance to pick up an intellectually liberated - possibly obese and/or dehydrated - layabout who can type, do research, formulate exotic theories, and make the best chip dip that a little money can buy. And boys, here's your chance to hit on lots of cute, hydrated, intelligent working women and feel the cold sting of their laughter.
Topics at Above Top Secret range from the latest threads about mainstream news and unconstitutional censorship, things you are not allowed to talk about on ATS, loud booms in the sky and under the earth, major die-offs of species leading to gleefully anticipated global destruction, debates on if women are real or just alien-enduced internet fantasy, and the newest and oldest in political and governmental conspiracies. And that's just their warm up act. They go on to report on wars and rumors of rumors of wars, and write about "Look over there!" when all other media outlets tell you to "Look over here!". Oddly, they allow no mention of "drugs", even though a healthy percentage of their users are solidly and significantly stoned when they come to visit.
Men who prowl ATS have fun with facts, fear, frivolity, and fantasy - the 4-F Club for those who don't fuck. The women who write there are the salt of the earth, and likely know the chemical formula for both salt and earth. In fact, ATS's brave users exist far ahead of their time while digging their muddy hands into their time. If anyone tells you that ghosts can drive a UFO, they probaby aren't doing it on ATS, which doesn't put up very well with stupid. When an ATS thread reaches fifty stars you can bet your mother's house that some good data got through the dumb-down filter laid across the net by "the man" and "his woman". And if it's excitement you're after, exploring the site's caves and forums can take you deep into weird caverns where stalagtites grow faces and yell at you about the next big thing. Just don't swing your arms around, you're liable to hit Stephen Hawking on the way out.
A useful top secret: It's best to view the site as a logged-in member, even if you never post anything, because the unholy place seems as full of ads as that black thing was full of stars. Logged in members bypass some ads, but not all of them by a longshot (not-so-much-fun fact: they even let ads grow in-between every fifth or sixth post as seen by the non-member riff-raff: a.k.a. the general public). And as an added bonus, when you log-in you get to view users avatars - some creepy ones, power mad ones, sexy ones, beautiful ones, but mostly scary ones - and can award "flags", "stars", and "geese" to threads and comments that you like and/or agree with.
And these are the bottom lines unless you can find the secret bottom line, on its way to denying ignorance Above Top Secret blasts you to the moon (unlike those faked moon landings) and sends you back either with more knowledge of your world and others like it or with more backlit trauma than your brain can soak up in one visit. Ignorance has its place, but certainly not at ATS (unless you're their advertising manager).
Where the wild things are:
- We all live inside a yellow submarine, ah, I mean a computer.
- The size of the universe? Pretty big!
- Life on Mars? Dibs on the cute skinny chicks.
- Skinny chicks! A plot to dumb down the net generation?
- One of the world's best kept secrets, or, "Here come the Tavistock boys!"
- You likey global banking? Here's someone's idea of a history.
- Senators who led the 911 commission say "Not so fast!"
- A musical mystery, Pan is bored?
- Or maybe quantum mechanics rings your nut.
- Just what are those quantum gravity braided spacetime creations? You and me!
- It's about time.
- What's a good conspiracy site without Marilyn Monroe.
- Or better yet, two of Marilyn Monroe.
- Damn! Did you hear somebody shot JFK?
- WTF? Then someone shot RFK too? Damn you OJ!
- All quirky fun lists need a UFO link, this one to Brentwood.
- Or lots and lots of UFO links, to their best "look to the skies!" pages.
- Ancient civilizations constructed, occupied, then subleased.
- Maybe you like more ancient civilizations? Got a million of them.
- One more ancient civiliza'n, with links to previous pages in this long series (at the bottom of first post). Dig 'em up.
- Are you on the Graphene bandwagon yet? A new world awaits...!
- Holographic universe? I'm reaching my hand into you right now!!!
- Some more holographico spacetime stuff, but just purty too.
- I am the Emperor of Japan! No, it is I, the Emperor of Japan!! Wait, no, me, me, the Emperor...
- Problems with Monsanto GMO-corn? Who'd have thunk it?
- Philadephia's City Hall, topped off by William Penn's penis? Wha? (say "Penn's penis" ten times real fast)
- The Great Pyramid, pi, and the meter. Strange bedfellows indeed.
- Plants we all know.
- Floatin' like a butterfly, stingin' like a bee - in sloooowww motion.
- Massive structures at the center of our galaxy? I'm moving.
- Conspiracy nut talks about Roma, and the geeks and peeps gather around like hawks in a mice storm for 400 pages.