The triumph of evil is that good men do nothing.

The Freemasons were officially founded in London on June 4, 1717.

The Freemasons are not a secret society of assassins. They do not have Cesar Borgia’s head preserved in an urn filled with grappa. They were not responsible for the French Revolution. They did not kidnap Anastasia Romanov. They are not in control of the Hale-Bopp comet. They did not invent horseradish.

They were masters of masonry, however, and they ushered in a golden age of making things out of rocks.

Freemasons first appeared in England and Scotland in the 1300s, not long after the first appearance of the Loch Ness monster but well before the advent of crop circles. Most laborers of the era were villains and therefore prohibited from travel; since most stone masonry projects (such as cathedrals, churches, and big piles of rocks) required specialized training and large numbers of workers, however, stone masons were permitted to travel freely. They became known as Freemasons; their curious lunchboxes came to be known as mason jars.

Whenever the Freemasons arrived in town to start work on a new project, they set up a common area where they could meet one another, receive their pay, get food, train apprentices, rest, and get roaring drunk. These came to be known as lodges.

As the centuries passed, the Freemasons did less and less work with rocks and more and more drinking at lodges. Today, the Freemasons are a friendly social organization with a secret handshake, and are therefore believed to be responsible for selling out the governments of the world to an invading extraterrestrial army.

And so it goes.