Like Stonehenge, however, the true meaning of the Crisp Packet Triangle looked set to fall into the obscurity of the forgotten subconscious of all mankind. Until, that is, one lukewarm September day in 1870, a British luddite named Samuel Wilkins became so disillusioned by the nation in which he was supposed to believe, that he turned to the mysterious Illuminati order (well documented outside of this shrine, despite their own efforts...) for enlightenment.

However, his search for enlightenment got waylaid in true British fashion, and he found himself turning to drink, tobacco, and table tennis. Without realising it, he was actually wiping the sociological imprints away from his brain. And thus it was, in a moment of sheer brilliance, that he was lying in a gutter somewhere in the Northern English town of Huddersfield, many years before crisps were truly invented, thinking of the Crisp Packet Triangle and its symbolic implications to society.

Then he choked on a piece of chicken and died.

Then, sometime in the 1970s, somebody was a bit bored in a pub, got their empty crisp packet, and started folding it. They got a triangle shape, tested its weight, and moments later became the first person ever to successfully project an empty crisp packet into a space no larger than 10 centimetres square from a distance of over 10 metres away. They were drunk and didn't even know. And thus was the Crisp Packet Triangle forged.

The Crisp Packet Triangle Shrine Zone is ©opyright Stuart Bruce 1996-98.

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