Can a secret be
something concealed, intended to be unseen; esoteric, known only to the magic
few; or at the same time widely known, promulgated, a widely cast net? The
secrets of the body, for example. A deadly virus, a pestilence, mutating
silently, hidden within, passing opaque from one to another, enigmatic yet
evident in its effects.
There are many
secret worlds: natural, social, contrived or deployed in support of a wider
project of control. Conspiracy theories provide alternative explanations for
what we observe to be going on: their charm lies in having the good oil, making
someone a benefactor sharing the real story. Bonding with a listener looking for
simplicity, agreeing with existing fears. We like simple. Complex makes us feel
bad. Reality might be making us feel bad already.
There’s the secret
world of intelligence, where code and espionage find threats and secure safety
yet whose failures bring down nations. Of disinformation, where the wide net
catches whole cohorts of lemmings going over the cliff of anti-vaccination, for
example. Of religious fanaticism, where Jesus is sold: a commodity to save you
from being yourself and from all worldly disasters. Not realising that you’re
already saved. By the mystery.
