Noah: The Original Conspiracy Theorist?

Picture this: an ancient world, not unlike our own, where folks go about their daily business – farming, building, maybe inventing the wheel. And then, there’s Noah. You know, the guy with the ark. If Noah were around today, he might just be that guy on your newsfeed constantly sharing posts about impending global floods and the need to build massive boats. That’s right, Noah, the original conspiracy theorist.

Let’s set the scene. Noah, a seemingly regular Joe, starts preaching about an upcoming deluge that will wipe out life as we know it. Now, the weatherman can’t even predict next week’s rain accurately, but here’s Noah, claiming insider knowledge on the world’s most catastrophic event. And what does he do? He starts building an ark. That’s commitment to a cause.

Imagine Noah’s neighbors. There’s Noah, hammering away, talking about gathering animals two by two. “Hey Noah, why two?” “Well, Bob, it’s for repopulating the earth after everything else is wiped out.” Talk about awkward small talk.

What’s fascinating is how Noah's message might sound today. Picture him as that one guy at the barbecue who's been reading too many internet forums. "Folks, the end is nigh! The signs are all there: the rising sea levels, the corrupt society, my strange dreams last night after eating too much goat cheese..."

But let's delve into what Noah said that could really cement his status as a conspiracy theorist. He claimed he was directly in contact with the Big Boss, the Almighty Himself. Now, in today’s world, if someone told you they were receiving direct messages from above, you’d probably suggest they cut back on the late-night cheese platters.

The humor in Noah’s situation lies in the sheer absurdity and scale of his claim. Building a boat the size of a football field because a voice in the sky told you to? That’s like your neighbor digging a moat around his house because his Alexa suggested it might rain tomorrow. And the bigger clue…nobody knew what rain was. Up until the Ark…it never rained.

Yet, here’s the kicker:

Noah was right. Imagine that, in a world where cat videos get more credibility than most news, the guy talking about world-ending floods was on the money. It’s the ultimate "I told you so" moment. Noah, the so-called nutjob, becomes humanity’s MVP.

This is where the story of Noah taps into a universal truth: sometimes, the most unbelievable tales have a kernel of truth. It's a reminder that truth, much like beauty, is often in the eye of the beholder. And in Noah's case, it also floated.

Think about how this story resonates with our modern sensibilities. Today, we're bombarded with wild claims and theories on the internet. Most of them are about as believable as a two-headed llama winning the Kentucky Derby. But what if, amidst all the noise, there's a modern-day Noah, trying to warn us about something genuinely important, like a stolen election, a toxic vaxx or the need to back up our digital photos?

Noah’s tale teaches us a valuable lesson in humility and listening. It's easy to dismiss ideas that sound outlandish, especially when they come from someone who's not part of the scientific or intellectual elite. Noah wasn't a meteorologist or a shipbuilder; he was just a regular guy with a divinely inspired hunch.

Now, imagine if Noah had a Twitter account. His tweets might have been the stuff of meme legend. "Day 347 of ark building: Ran out of nails, using hope and prayers to hold planks together #FloatingFaith

#DIYApocalypse." Or, "Just saw my neighbor building a raft. Cute. #AmateurHour."

In a social media-esque fashion, we can see the humor and the humanity in Noah's predicament. He's the underdog, the misunderstood visionary, the guy who's either a complete lunatic or the most insightful person on earth. He's the guy next door who, against all odds, turns out to be right.

At the end of the day, Noah’s story might just be a reminder to us all: listen to the underdog, keep an open mind, and maybe, just maybe, learn how to swim. After all, you never know when the guy with the crazy boat project might have a point.

In conclusion, if Noah were around today, branded a conspiracy theorist, he'd be a fascinating blend of eccentricity, wisdom, and a stubborn refusal to ignore the voice in his head (or sky, as it were). He serves as a reminder that sometimes, the line between a conspiracy theorist and a prophet is as thin as the wall of an ark. And in a world where the truth is often stranger than fiction, maybe keeping an ear to the ground (or the sky) isn't such a bad idea after all.

Here To Serve…