The work for which Wilson is most well‐​known can be understood as the madcap centerpiece of that Operation. Whimsical, purposely nonsensical and unpredictable, The Illuminatus! trilogy is not a work that lends itself to synopsis. Through its pages, Wilson and the trilogy’s coauthor, Robert Shea (whom Wilson met when the two were editors at Playboy) erratically and hilariously pursue their shared love of all things conspiratorial and occult. Wilson’s account finds the trilogy’s origins in his fascination with the Discordian Society, described in his own words as “a new religion disguised as a complicated joke” — or perhaps “a joke disguised as a religion.” This is the kind of ambiguity around which Wilson and Shea positioned their narrative. In both his fiction and nonfiction, Wilson was interested in exploring “conflict and dialectics,” and Illuminatus! both leverages the power of wild conspiracy theories and ridicules them. Comparing Wilson’s antic parodies to the sincerely held conspiracy theories on which they’re based calls to mind Poe’s Law. As writes cultural critic and communications scholar Kembrew McLeod, “You might have a hard time telling which passage is Robertson’s and which is deadpan satire.” 3

Wilson and Shea even dedicated the first book in the series to Discordianism’s founders, Kerry Thornley and Greg Hill, the former of whom had been Wilson’s friend before an increasing paranoia convinced him Wilson was employed by the CIA. 4 Upon encountering one another and exchanging a series of letters, Wilson and Thornley found that they shared much in common, their subversive political idea in particular. Wilson observes, “We were both opposed to every form of violence or coercion against individuals, whether practiced by governments or by people who claimed to be revolutionaries.” It is, perhaps, safe to say that radical libertarians in the eccentric Wilson and Thornley mold can be a jumpy, paranoid lot. If Wilson was able to maintain his balance on the edge of such fear and paranoia, keeping his distance through humor and mockery, then Thornley tripped and fell, eventually drowning. Many of us, as libertarians, will recognize the Thornley type. The radical must always take care not to let his hatred of authority fester into an all‐​encompassing, delusional panic.

With Illuminatus!, Wilson distinctively and brilliantly constellated the strange combination of interests and impulses that, though seemingly unrelated to one another, are familiar to most libertarians as something like our cultural heritage. The cult classic (like Wilson himself) is serviceable for presentation as an “exhibit A” to anyone who sees libertarianism as merely a version of conservatism. For his one‐​of‐​a‐​kind sense of humor and unique political perspective, Robert Anton Wilson is a libertarian treasure, to be discovered by newcomers and revisited often by fans.

See Jeff Riggenbach’s profile of Wilson. ↩ Jesse Walker, The United States of Paranoia: A Conspiracy Theory (Harpercollins 2014). ↩ Kembrew McLeod, Pranksters: Making Mischief in the Modern World (NYU Press 2014). ↩ Robert Anton Wilson’s Foreword to Adam Gorightly’s The Prankster and the Conspiracy (Paraview Press 2003). ↩

Originally Published on November 28, 2017