Fun:Legend of Conservapedia

This Conservapedia-related article is of largely historical interest and is no longer the focus of RationalWiki today. Conservapedia (and religious fundamentalism to an extent) was a major focal point in the early history of RationalWiki, but long ago ceased coming up with new ways to appall and amuse. Our energies are now spent debunking other, fresher examples of pseudoscientific claims, authoritarianism, and deceit. For RationalWiki's less ancient content, try the Best of RationalWiki.

The original draft of this delightful piece was crafted by Tygrehart at talk WIGO CP

So you wish to hear the Legend of Conservapedia, to know what became of the great bastion of trusworthiness? Well walk with me now, let us visit this once great and mighty kingdom and see first hand how time has treated it.

After passing down a weed-pocked road, past wizened farmland and murky skies we first come upon the rusted, wrought iron gates of that great walled city, capital of a deteriorating nation. Where once they were open and welcomed all, now care must be taken as we approach for those gates are guarded dutifully by Navy Man Karajou. Do not ask him if he may have a real rank; for he never tells anyone. In fact he does not seem to speak much at all. Rather he prefers to use illustrations of strawman and swift sweeps of his mighty Banhammer to do his talking for him. Assisting him is Master of Counter Intelligence RobS, a man whose senses are so sharp he can ferret out Agents of the Enemy by the way they sign the city registry ledger alone. With neither pity nor remorse he turns back every one of THEM he can find, some before they can even utter a word of protest.

Next we stride down the worn, windswept streets, passing crumbling buildings and the few sullen and sallow folks who made it through the gates. Again care must be taken as we travel. Where once the residents were eager and industrious now only wicked trolls and shifty-eyed sycophants prowl the causeway. If we are lucky though we might catch a glimpse of the High Prophet Conservative roaming here and there, bringing his word to any of the tortured souls he happens upon. With a high voice and bright, shining eyes he sings praises to their great leader Lord Andy, reminding all who will listen that the wicked and sinful atheist world outside the walls is doomed to fall at any moment and great victory is just around corner. So it is written, so it will be done. Ole, Ole, Ole!

Our next stop will of course be The Scriptorium, headed by Master Edmund "Call Me Uncle" Poor. A founder of another kingdom that (he states) fell to decadence, Ed fled to the safety of Lord Andy's realm and was welcomed with open arms. He now spends his days furiously creating codex covers, tossing them into a great pile around that builds about his feet, endlessly calling out for his legion of phantom authors to fill them. Fear not though, he's quite a benevolent and jovial man, especially if you are a young maiden.

At the center of the city is the grand concrete (not ivory, never ivory, for only evil intellectuals and liberals use those) tower where Lord Andy resides. Through the halls of fading tapestries and desiccated furniture we find the main door to his chamber is guarded by Grand Vizier TK. Clad in a black Cossack and featureless white mask, he is always present and doting to his master, whispering encouraging lies and gentle placations, assuring him that the latest purges of their dwindling populace will only strengthen the power and greatness of his kingdom. A brave few have dared to catch a glimpse of what lies behind his mask only to suffer madness and death at the Eldritch visage it hides.

And finally we come to the master of this domain, the headman himself: Professor Headmaster Chief Engineer High Priest Congressman Andrew Layton Schafly Esquire. Last scion and would-be inheritor of the great Schafly Conservative Dynasty, see how resplendent he is in his tattered robes and tarnished, dented crown. From his lofty balcony he gazes out over the rubble and chaos that once held so much hope and promise for so many, seeing nothing but bright spires and shining faces, making proclamations and insights that no one really listens to and fewer still understand.

Such is the Kingdom of Conservapedia; endlessly dying, ever decaying, never knowing the soft embrace of death that will end its misery.