MK Ultra is trending in the Mangione case

When I first heard about the murder of UnitedHealthcare CEO Brian Thompson, I wasn’t surprised to find many people in online spaces acting less than sympathetic. 

It didn’t surprise me to see calloused posts about his death. One, because unfortunately that’s just what the internet does, but also because a lot of people are genuinely angry and frustrated with the current healthcare system in America. 

I think, even if their anger was misplaced, they saw Thompson as an embodiment of every denied claim or outrageous bill or hounding call from a collection agency.

But now that a suspect has been arrested, the internet has gone into full overdrive with what it really does best: conspiracy theories.

The accused, a young man from an affluent family with an Ivy League education, allegedly carried a “ghost gun,” had fake IDs, and a multi-page manifesto. He also happened to be found, sitting in a McDonald’s, with an evidence cache that must feel like Christmas morning to prosecutors.

And that’s how MKUltra—yes, the CIA’s notorious mind-control program—ended up trending on X.

MKUltra was one of the wildest chapters in US history. 

The CIA experimented with mind control using unsuspecting Americans. They dosed them with LSD and ran psychological tests that seem more like dystopian fiction than reality. 

But it was all real, and it lasted for decades before being exposed in the 1970s.

Of course, there’s no evidence that Mangione was part of any government program, or that he was acting on anything but his own free will. But history has taught us not to be so quick to dismiss things as “conspiracy.” 

I mean, in a world where we know about things like MKUltra, Operation Northwoods, and COINTELPRO, can you blame anyone for wondering?

We once thought the idea of the government running secret mind-control experiments on unwilling “participants” was pure sci-fi—until it wasn’t.

That’s what makes moments like these so interesting. When we know how far the powerful have gone in the past, it’s hard not to wonder what else might be happening behind the scenes today.

Honestly, it shouldn’t surprise anyone when people go digging for answers and trying to piece things together themselves because they don’t trust the official story.

Especially after what we’ve lived through these last five years.

I hope no one ever takes the “news” at face value ever again!

That’s why we wrote The Tuttle Twins Guide to True Conspiracies. 

In it, we cover real-life covert operations, cover-ups, and abuses of power that were once dismissed as wild conspiracy theories—until they were proven true.

Of course, we don’t want to make kids afraid of the world around them—quite the opposite, actually! 

We want to help parents raise kids who know that people in power do bad things, so that they will be wise enough to not buy into the fear tactics that governments have historically used to manipulate and control their citizens. 

Programs like MKUltra are a reminder that those in power don’t play by the rules. And if we’re not paying attention, history can (and will!) repeat itself. When people know about these past conspiracies, they can better navigate the present—and prepare for the future.

So, is Luigi Mangione connected to some kind of MKUltra-esque covert operation? 

Probably not. 

But the fact that so many people are asking shows just how much we’ve learned to question the official story—and that’s a really good thing.

The Tuttle Twins Guide to True Conspiracies is packed with the jaw-dropping stories of how the powerful have bent, twisted, and outright ignored the rules to suit their agendas. True conspiracies that actually happened.

It’s a great way to spark meaningful discussions with your family about the world we live in.

Truth really is stranger than fiction, and if you haven’t read The Tuttle Twins Guide to True Conspiracies, now’s the time. (You can even read a sample chapter here) 

Let’s teach our kids how to spot the patterns of deception. 

Let’s make them immune to government mind control—in all its forms.

— Connor