Hi. My name is Epstein. Welcome!
Unlike the Sims game is that it is a virtual game, where someone opens the door and you start living a virtual life inside the game, ARG MetaPhoria is a virtual game where you open your own door and you start living . . . but this game will be played in REALITY MODE.
You will actually get to participate in it . . . in real life . . . daily!
The first step to opening the door to this ARG is to understand a little bit about why we are here and what we are doing.
It all began when my friend, Weeble, a blogger on The Daily Bell, which is a somewhat anarchic<>libertarian<>apolitical<>statist site, got together with someone called amanfromMars and began to steganographically chat. This led to them both helping usher in the arrival of aliens on October 13, 2010 . . . you remember, right? The world’s politicians got quite embarrassed when the aliens did not contact them, so they promptly backpeddled, then re-scheduled it for 2014 . . .
. . . and since humans seem to trust the hand that bites them, they waved them on with it and pretended it didn’t happen as well!
Weeble got honourable mention for his “hyperactive” part in the event on The Daily Bell the next day.
OUR MISSION – Operation BlueBalls
We MetaPhorians arrived on October 13, 2010 to usher in the dawning of the next World Peace. We have spent 1 year getting to know how we can help you the best, and have stumbled on MetaFlorin Game Pieces to help you all understand money and to re-learn how to trade without the negative influence of government and those who control the government . . . everyone on this beautiful Blue Ball called Earth.
They use money to do it, you know.
By the way, I stumbled on something funny that “Weeble” wrote in the comments section at The Daily Bell on October 12, 2010 @ 10/12/10 01:08 PM. He was beginning to morph into a MetaPhorian at that time:
Chapter 1 – pulled from the future
For the past 50 odd years, there has been an underlying confusion about the delusion with respect to flying saucers. The meme has been derided, promoted, substantiated, denied in very grainy terms, barely believable, yet believable, because we want to believe. People latched onto it ncely.
I myself was quite the little UFO buff in my day. But lately, there have been so many things to think about that my preoccupation with intelligent life elsewhere has been taken off the afterburner, and onto the back burner.
A week ago, something strange happened. All the disparate ideas were pulled together very rapidly, and not very well. A book was published with an ultimatum of sorts. A retired NORAD guy was used to promote October 13, which is tomorrow, if you all synchronize your calendars.
I began to read some polls and found out that around 74% (three quarters for those fractional types out there) are ready to meet up with some intelligent life. How spiffy is that? 50% believe in UFOs and 5% have actually seen one!
I am rapidly reaching my 40 line maximum, so I guess I will MerseyBeat around the bush for a couple of minutes. I will mouse back up and call this Chapter 1. Back in a second. There, done. OK, now for my first segue.
A short while back, I had a funny feeling that my gig was up as Weeble, so I let DB know something about myself by planting a fake “me” post with a real “me” exposed. I do not why I did that, but I did it. Loose lips, sink ships I say. I sunk myself.
That very same day, some feedbackers were talking about me while I was not there and a consensus seemed to be forming that I was a PsyOp. Goodness gracious, how odd? How do you prove a negative? I thought about it for a moment, then used my secret weapon and asked DB to vouch for me. I still remember what DB said in reply to someone: “If he is a PsyOp, then he is very, very good.” He did vouch for me in a very nice way.
At this point, I would like to bring up a little known fact about my writing. I have absolutely no idea how and where this story is going to end up. That is how I write. Now my 40 lines are up. Bye for now.
There were 2 other posts after that, so you can scroll through the blog to see them, if you so desire. Hopefully, you get the gist of the way his mind operates . . . . totally mad . . . nuff said!
Anyway, after Operation BlueBalls, Weeble actually did go mad, so his wife sent him off in a wheelbarrow to Limerick, Ireland, to recuperate.
I will now begin to explain what has happened so far: