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Mound of Hostages



  • Registered Users Posts: 450 ✭✭Agent Weebley

  • Registered Users Posts: 450 ✭✭Agent Weebley

    "Why can't you link to the video you posted into the USA, Agent Weebley? The directed history video."

    John Drake looked at me with those piercing eyes . . . or was it Number 6 . . . or was it Patrick McGoohan? What was the issue with respect to copyright payments to Ralph Smart for the Number 6 character? And who was George Markstein, the supposed ex-MI5 cum "writer," I thought to myself.


    Oops, sidetracked again.

    "Boards does not allow it . . . Patrick."

    "You are an enigma, Agent Weebley. Peter Falk told me all about you. You flip from one thing to another. You leave unanswered questions all over the place. And, may I remind you, you owe Gryphonboy the answer to the anagram: SAI CLOWDE."

    "Really? It means CODE IS LAW . . . where is Peter Falk, anyway?"

    "He'll be coming back . . . and Agent Weebley, did you forget to drop The Cone Of Silence?"

    Man, this guy is as sharp as a whip!

    "What, pray tell, does that clip have to do with anything?"

    Hmmm, I said to myself. I say that a lot. I need to think fast. Patrick thinks fast.

    "Communication. Words drive the people of this world in new directions."

    Something caught Patrick's eye and he looked behind me, so I looked as well. It was my 2 friends, Epstein and Agent Heggle, meandering about, like 2 blind men . . . seeing many things, but not us.

    "And who is that fellow accompanying Brian Epstein?"

    I grinned.

    "That is Agent Heggle. He is Georg Wilheim Friedrich Hegel . . . a good friend and fellow Agent Of Peace."

    "Agent Weebley . . . again, you are truly bizzare. Can you play the directed history video, at least?"

    "That, I can do." I said. "This video shows how propaganda slowly changes our mental direction, based on planned and orchestrated events."

  • Registered Users Posts: 450 ✭✭Agent Weebley

    I got up and walked over to Epstein. He and Agent Heggle must have known we were exactly at the door to the Mound Of Hostages, but were gazing back and forth, not seeing us.

    At one point, I could have sworn Epstein looked right into my eyes, because I had a flash of his earlier days . . .

    . . . what a peaceful man. Tufted wavy locks, handsome looks, engaging smile, speaks The Queen's English, you know, even though he is from Liverpule , , , it reminds me of my Mum trying to do the same for us kids . . . eliminate the Coventry slang . . . my Dad still has the Belfast accent, but Dad's brother, Uncle Fergus, tries really hard to say "you" instead of yuy" . . . my Mum, the granddaughter of a very wealthy man, W. Henry Leah a Sheffield Silversmith . . ."

    "Sheffield?" Patrick pulled on my sleeve. "My old stomping grounds. We moved there from Mullaghmore, County Leitrim, when I was 7."

    7. My mind was reeling. Everything and everyone are connected. This keeps happening to me . . . reminders everywhere. I am Number 7, I give out information.

    "I'm supposed to be in Sheffield right now, Patrick . . . taking over Sevenstone, and turning it back into a trading and manufacturing Mecca . . . everyone will want to go there."

    Patrick smiled. Ah yes, just down Leopold Street, turn right on Barker's Pool, just South The Sheffield City Hall. I remember. But, Agent Weebley, why are you here in Ireland, your AirCar indefinitely parked, it seems, over The Stone Of Destiny, and again, why did you bring me here?"

    I took one last look at Epstein, as he and Agent Heggle went back into the 3 green laser beam and disappeared, then looked back at Patrick McGoohan. I paused for a moment, as I had to pick my words carefully . . . "Patrick, you are so good with words . . . would you be our Secret Agent?"

    Instantly, he held out his hand to shake mine . . . "Agent Paddy Fitz at your Secret Service, Agent Weebley."

    No, no, at your service, Agent Paddy . . . let's rid the snakes from Ireland, shall we?"

    "Get typing, Agent Weebley . . . Curtis Brown, brother of Bobby and James awaits your wistful words . . . "

    Gimme A Big Strong "D" . . . let's Do IT!

  • Registered Users Posts: 450 ✭✭Agent Weebley

    As in life . . . broken in death . . . love broken . . . love of love . . . love of life . . . . and giving . . . without measure . . . gives in return, The One . . . for sharing in the fruits . . .

    "Do you believe it, Agent Paddy?"

    We jumped into the Aston Martin Rapide. Destination: Mullaghmore, County Leitrim.

    I thought about Lucy . . . and also thought about Steve and his Lucy^2. Will Lucy^2 stick by him, when everything changes for them real soon? Will she stay or will she go now? A possible clash of Titanic proportions. I know she loves him. But he must do this . . . for The One . . . The Singularity . . . The Turing Machine . . . For Qubit. I don't know. I hope she stays. I must make it worth it for her to stay. I'll figure something out. I always do.

    "Joan still hugs me in the morning, and kisses me at night, Agent Weebley. We've been married 57 years . . . that's forever. How about you?"

    I thought about it for a moment. I'm 49 forever. Lucy and I are forever. But Steve? He worked 15 hours yesterday . . . made $1800 for him and Lucy^2. I wondered how I knew that, because Steve and I disconnected a while back. They've been married 24 years, now. 1988. A good year. I should drop in on them real soon. See how they're doing. Maybe it's time to make another Fidcheall Chess move. I'll bet she stays.

    We left the no-name road, near The Mound Of Hostages and headed West. I punched The Rapide's accelerator and we were doing a ton within a few seconds.

    I have so much to do coming up . . . the invisible Frank Zappa story . . . the letter to Curtis, at Curtis Brown . . . all in Real Time . . . I wonder . . . will pickarooney give me a pass on the self promotion thing, if I continue to prove I am giving . . . without measure?

    "Forever . . . "

  • Registered Users Posts: 1 Bischoff

    Agent Weebley wrote:

    I think we need to talk.

    How about here in IE:

    Well, here I am.

    You took umbrage with my statement which read:

    "BTW, Social Security is not a handout. It is a consequential obligation of the federal government stemming from the confiscation of the gold savings of American citizens in 1933, and from preventing subsequent generations from saving for their own retirement by prohibiting them from holding gold."


    Let me explain. Prior to the nationalization of the gold holdings by Executive Order of FDR in 1933, income earners had the ability to convert Federal Reserve Note currency into gold.

    Gold is both a standard used to measure value as well, as a means of storing value. What gives value to a good or commodity is the "quantified" work expended in producing it.

    The Federal Reserve Note was a "netting" currency which was reconciled with gold. Gold in "netting the FRN currency prior to 1933 represented the "savings" of people. There is no other commodity on earth judged to preserves value as well as gold, because gold has constant marginal utility.

    Most "savers" invested their gold in gold bonds for competitive interest return. Upon maturity of the gold bonds, the savers received their gold back without a loss in value.

    Once FDR nationalized the gold holdings of American citizens in March of 1933, the savings of Americans were confiscated in return for a new irredeemable Federal Reserve Note currency. Nothing changed in the appearance of the FRN currency except the tiny writing on the face of it which explained that it was no longer redeemable in gold, but only redeemable in "lawful money" which according to the National Banking Act of 1935 was another "irredeemable" Federal Reserve Note.

    The Congress clearly understood what they had done. They in fact had not only appropriated the gold savings of the American people for the "good" of the country, but by also prohibiting the American people from holding gold henceforth, they had robbed them of the ability to store value for use to support themselves in old age. To make up for the treachery committed with the passage of the NBA of 1935, the Congress passed the Social Security Act of 1935 in which the U.S. Government undertook the obligation to collect earnings from present workers to pay to present retirees. In other words, the value of an "irredeemable" FRN was good enough to use for consumption spending, and as long as the government diligently collected from present works and tranferred those collections to the present retirees for immediate spending, there was little loss of value.

    Of course, all depended on the government's earnestness in transferring value straight across from present worker to present retiree. How well that has worked out, we know. The Social Security System was an obligation to right the wrong done to Americans to 1) by having confiscated their savings for fiat currency of dubious value, and 2) for prohibiting Americans to use the means of storing "value" in the form of gold for use in old age or medical emergency.

    The value of FRNs, deducted as FICA taxes to be payed directly to retirees, is watered down by making up shortages in the collection of FICA taxes with Federal Reserve Notes created through Quantitative Easing.

    The treachery of the federal government vis-a-vis its citizens continues. The campaign of calling Social Security Benefits a hand-out which is no longer affordable, is a betrayal in the extreme.

    Unless you understand the difference between redeemable "netting" currency using the gold standard, and irredeemable fiat currency created by the Fed central bank against congressional budget deficits, you will never understand what I meant by my comments to which you took umbrage.

    Ingo Bischoff

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  • Registered Users Posts: 450 ✭✭Agent Weebley

    Hi Ingo!

    Great to see you again after so many months. I was just getting ready to post the beginnings of what happened over the weekend, but there was something missing . . . turns out it was you!

    For those of you who don't know Ingo Bischoff, he is a regular contributor to The Daily Bell (and has tenure.) That site is based in Switzerland. Ingo also runs a university in California. He loves gold, and I don't. It's nice and shiny, but there's only enough gold to give all 7 billion of us 3/4 of an ounce each if we all shared, therefore, gold can only be a fractional symbol of currency (unless we all traded in grains of gold.) this is where Ingo and I get into heated debate . . . I think he likes it. I know I do.

    I wrote a short note to Ingo last night:

    Posted by Agent Weebley:

    Hi Ingo,

    You said:

    "BTW, Social Security is not a handout. It is a consequential obligation of the federal government stemming from the confiscation of the gold savings of American citizens in 1933, and from preventing subsequent generations from saving for their own retirement by prohibiting them from holding gold."

    OMFNG, you really said that, didn't you . . . how, in Natural Law's name did you make that (italicized) connection?

    I think we need to talk.

    How about here in IE:

    Ingo . . . before I answer your statement about my umbrage of your statement, I need to get this off my chest before I forget. I'll answer you on my next post.

    OK, here we go . . .

    We headed West on the M3, reaching Kells in a couple of minutes. After turning S/W onto the N3 and tweaking the speedo back to 160km/h, I had to slow back down for the roundabout at Drumbaragh. West on R163, 70km to go.

    "Nice suspension, Agent Weebley. It handles better than KAR 120C, my Lotus Seven."

    My mind was reeling over the number 7 again, but I just chuckled and kept my eyes on the road. One false move and I would be outside the envelope, and being mailed back home in a bucket. I punched it up to 200 km/h on the straightaways.

    Then I felt a sudden pang . . . I needed to see Steve and talk to amanfromMars.

    I had a little more trouble maintaining high speed, when we joined the R154, since the road was getting a bit narrow. I did manage to briefly reach 220 km/h, but a good sized pot hole made the Rapide yaw a little, so I dropped it down.

    As we entered Oldcastle, I maintained a nice 50 km/h . . . until I noticed the Garda station at Barrack St.

    "Why are we stopping, Agent Weebley?"

    "Cloaking test," I said. "I need to do a brake stand."

    As I revved the motor to about 3000 RPM with the brakes on hard, then momentarily released the brakes then applied them again, the tyres started smoking . . . bigtime! A copper stuck his head out of the door, then ran back in.

    Time we blue. So l we smoked it outta there.

    As I looked in the rear view doing a comfortable 50 km/h through town, the coppers were gathering their wits and jumping into their cars, emerging through the smoke as it hung heavily over the pretty police station.

    "Love the pastel colours here in town, eh, Agent Paddy?"

    3 cars were quickly gaining on us and were right behind us as we left town. I punched it back to 160 km/h . . . they ate my dust.

    . . . . except for some sort of Sleeper Vehicle that was gaining on me. Hmmm. I gave 'er a little more. No good. Still gaining on me.

    Whoa! I slammed on the brakes to make an unexpected sharp right turn to stay on what was apparently now an even narrower R154. He was right up my arse now.

    "So much for your cloaking device, Agent Weebley. What now?"

    The road was pretty well one lane, so I stopped. The Sleeper Vehicle stopped. It was a Porche Panamera. It must be chipped, I thought. He chugged there, silently waiting for my next move. I could tell he wanted to chase me. Probably the most excitement he'd had in a long time.

    Chipped? Me too. 570 horses . . . I floored it and got about a 1/4 mile ahead of him, then pulled back on the steering wheel.


    "Very impressive, Agent Weebley. I had no idea this vehicle could fly."

    "I forgot to engage the cloaking device back in town, Agent Paddy. I think the adrenaline was pumping too much. Let's go."

    I swung the Rapide Northwards and headed for the sky, sweeping left and right, up and down. What a graceful car, I thought.

    "Mullaghmore is northwest of here," Patrick said.

    "Nothing much there, except for some interesting cupped land formations. Do you mind if we go see Steve?"

    Patrick gave me a little smirk . . . "Could be interesting," he said.

    "But first . . . Clones."

    We did a victory roll over Tony Morgan's store: Lipton's . . . the guy who doesn't know what planet I'm on right now, but kinda likes me, nevertheless. I threw down some Pixie Dust.

    [singing] "We're all Clones . . . all are one and one are all . . ."

    "What's that, Agent Weebley?"

    "Just singing some Alice Cooper. Frank Zappa discovered him, you know. Zappa liked the way some people loved Alice, but some people just walked out of the venue . . . they hated his music. That's why Zappa had Alice Cooper open for him a couple of times . . . must be something in Alice Cooper, he thought. He was right."

    "Why is the 42 businesses accepting The Punt a big deal?" Agent Paddy looked quite perplexed.

    "They are learning how to trade in cash again, Agent Paddy. It's a Game . . . a Great Game."

    I swung the Rapide westward and punched it to 500 km/h . . .

    "Toronto or bust . . . Steve needs me right now . . . I can feel it . . ."

    500 km/h was too slow, so instead, before you could say Jack Robinson, we were landing at Danforth and Pape.

    Now, onto Ingo . . .

  • Registered Users Posts: 450 ✭✭Agent Weebley

    Hi Ingo,

    "Give me a place to stand, and I shall move the Earth with a lever" - Archimedes.

    Welcome to, Ingo. I hope you read what has transpired so far in my real life story.

    It was a strange thing that happened on The Daily Bell on April 25, 2012, wasn't it . . . when they stopped allowing comments. I'm glad they started it up again. I ended up coming to Ireland in early May, and posting on The Irish Times to help the No vote win . . . and we did! 70% blew a raspberry to the EU. 20% voted No, and 50% didn't vote at all. A mere 30% gave away Sovereignty of Irish finances . . . fully democratic sham, don't you think?

    After the No vote, I found this place. Great people here, but they think I'm a weirdo. Great judges of character, aren't they!

    This place takes a bit of getting used to, as this thread seems to be the only thread on which I can speak the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. Most people think it's a story though. No matter.

    Pretty soon, there's going to be a lot of people that will understand why I am beating around the bush like I do . . . once I write a letter to Curtis Brown, a UK Publisher, all will be clear . . . a Game . . . A Great Game will be born. I can't wait.

    Anyway, I took exception to what you said about the US Government paying, what was it, $35 per oz, for Americans to hand in their gold in 1935? Then it was illegal to hold it, therefore pointless to hold it, as you could be jailed if you used it, I would assume? Then they de-linked currency to gold, so the gold price floated, and they could now print money like there was no tomorrow.

    For that transgression, you say every person in the USA has guaranteed social security, so printing money endlessly is OK? I don't think so. Printing money does not feed people. Working for yourself feeds you and your family. Social Security is a mug's game. That is akin to having your hand in someone else's pocket while they have their hand in yours. It is a demotivator.

    Where does it end? Buried in currency?

    Sucking on the teet of government is going to end. It must. Government sucks on the teet of the people . . . a paradox. This paradox is unravelling.

    We all have to learn to trade again . . . without outside influences . . . money power needs to be nixed.

    Welcome to the giant Lever and Fulcrum based Chess Game, Ingo. Would you like to help? I'll start a thread in the Economics Forum soon, and let you know where it is. We'll kick some logical ass.

    Now, if you excuse me, I must have Agent Paddy meet my wife, Lucy, and the rest of the crackpot professionals . . . in the AirCar.

  • Registered Users Posts: 274 ✭✭PurpleBee

    What keeps you going Weebley?

  • Registered Users Posts: 450 ✭✭Agent Weebley

    Hi PurpleBee,

    That's a very good question! My friends help me. They helped me tonight. And you guys are my friends, even though some may not think it, reciprocally, at this point. I/O thinks my stuff is gibberish, but it isn't. I think he should try harder to understand. All of you help me too . . . help me give, without measure.

    Oh, and thanks for making Mound Of Hostages leap past Gryphonboy's blog post and settle into a safe margin at Number 49 in the Hit Parade. I could not post last week. I'll try to explain. This is going to be a long post, I can feel it . . . can you feel it?

    And it's going to be a wide post . . . a menagerie à trois.

    I'm currently North of Toronto right now . . . with Steve . . . in Caledon.

    It all started last weekend, when we floated down to Danforth and Pape in Toronto . . . the Greek district.

    We parked outside the Min-A-Mart, where the taxi stand is located. Can you see the red box and the open overhead door? Someone moved the red box. It is supposed to be between the green flower stand and the overhead door at the round column. These will feature heavily.

    Now, turn around. Do you see the Licks Restaurant? Patrick and I went there and met Steve for some food - great burgers there, crappy fries, though.

    Anyway, here's Agent Paddy and I just sitting there, minding our own business in the Aston Martin Rapide. We hear loud dubstep music coming from the car behind us. I look in the rear view mirror and notice it is the same Porsche Panamera from Oldcastle. . . matte black. The tune wafted heavily our way . . .

    Why do I always spell Porsche as Porche? Weird. Got it right this time, though. Who is in it? All the windows are tinted in a dark LA-drive-by shade. I can't even tell if it is man or a woman in there.
    / . . . later . . .beddie-byes for me . . . it's almost 1:30am EST Canada/US
    / . . . woke up @ 7:13 . . . over an hour ago . . . I read amanfromMars' work here and here, then cerfed a little

    I should get back to explaining what happened a week ago yesterday, but so many things get in the way. For example, yesterday, I was wondering how I could get back in the swing of posting here, and watched a video that epitomises where we all sit right now on this wonderful Blue Ball called Earth. Our blog or Blovel, as I like to call it, happened upon a great tune originally sung by Dave Berry, but resurrected by Boy George. This song became our mantra to explain the current money system we all suffer within . . . The Crying Game ARG:

    First there are kisses = credit galore

    Then there are sighs = money power decides to pull it back

    and then before you know where you are, you're saying goodbye = everyone is left hung out to dry with bad debt while they take everything you have worked hard to build

    Whatever happened to Boy George? Did he shake the disease? I searched "boy george 2012" and got this interview . . . awesome stuff:

    OMG! wiki "boy george"

    OMFNG . . . he was born 2 days after Steve . . . and that Bowie connection . . . eerie, or is it eery . . .no, eire!
    / . . . later . . . kinda busy now @ 9:48 am EST Canada/US
    / . . . 9:52 pm . . . hi, it's me . . .I'm back . . .

    I just had to write a short note to dogmax on The George Orwell thread. Geez, how time flies. already 10:53 pm. Tomorrow is a day off for Steve and Lucy^2 . . . Lucy, Nerfy and I went to Ray-Ray's for a Thanksgiving Turkey dinner today. Sorry, Lucy just gave me a poke in the ribs and a word in my ear: "get back on track." OK 4 words.

    No sign of Steve coming out of 658 Danforth via the huge overhead door on Pape. The Porsche Panamera sat there silently behind us after the Greek dubstep song ended.

    "Can you dig the remote control out of the glove department?" I asked Agent Paddy. "We're going in."

    I figured that the Panamera would not follow us in . . . not sure why I would think that . . .

    "No remote control."

    WTF, I thought. I could have sworn it was in there, but now I m swearing it is not in there.
    \ . . . pause @ 11:11 pm

    Wondering what to do, how long we wold have to wait for Steve to come out and grab a coffee at Tim Horton's or have a smoke . . .

    "Why are we here, anyway?" Agent Paddy looked rather bored. He was fiddling around with my Sony Vaio Zee.

    "Here," I said, "give it to me. Danforth and Pape is a magical place. The Greeks are such nice people. I'm going to give you a drum solo from a Toronto favourite . . . Rush. Note: movement VII - Danforth and Pape . . .

    \ . . . pause @ 11:41 pm

    Album: Hemispheres
    Release Date: October 26th, 1978

    I. Buenos Nochas, Mein Froinds! - [ 0:00 - 0:27 ]
    II. To Sleep, Perchance To Dream... - [ 0:27 - 2:00 ]
    III. Strangiato Theme - [ 2:00 - 3:16 ]
    IV. A Lerxst In Wonderland - [ 3:16 - 5:49 ]
    V. Monsters! - [ 5:49 - 6:09 ]
    VI. The Ghost Of The Aragon - [ 6:09 - 6:45 ]
    VII. Danforth And Pape - [ 6:45 - 7:26 ]
    VIII. The Waltz Of The Shreves - [ 7:26 - 7:49 ]
    IX. Never Turn Your Back On A Monster! - [ 7:49 - 8:02 ]
    X. Monsters! (Reprise) - [ 8:02 - 8:17 ]
    XI. Strangiato Theme (Reprise) - [ 8:17 - 9:20 ]
    XII. A Farewell To Things - [ 9:20 - 9:34 ]

    "Steve told me a most unusual story a while back. One of his techs had a job as a roofer, just after he finished school in 1978. He was working on the roof of a home with his boss, in the middle of nowhere, on 9th line, Northeast of Toronto in Markham. He's nailing shingles to the roof all day. A little kid came outside to play every now and again, but all day they heard Rush songs . . . like all day! Over and over they hard these songs . . . the same song quite a lot. My tech was a Rush fan, so he didn't mind it at all, but he said to his boss that those guys in the house must really like Rush. His boss said . . . er, this is Alex Lifeson's uncles home. That is his kid out here playing. That's them down there, practicing. He never did meet them, though."

    Agent Paddy looked over at me: "six degrees of separation, Agent Weebley. Steve is you, isn't he?"

    I nodded. But then, Agent Paddy motioned me to look over to my left. The Porsche Panamera was now beside us and revving . . . winding out, something fierce. I still could not see the driver, but I could tell whoever it was, was looking at me.

    Then, he or she looked forward and took off like a rocket, laying rubber for about 100 feet . . . gone!

    We looked at each other, shrugging our shoulders, not noticing the overhead door was beginning to open . . .
    / . . . To Sleep, Perchance To Dream @ 12:27am EST Canada/US
    / . . . I've been up since 7:31 am . . . reading . . .

    I only read for a little while, but Steve and Lucy^2 wanted to do some painting in their bedroom, but that is a long story . . . for another time.

    Getting back to the overhead door . . .

    As the Porsche Panamera went through the gears, fading off into the distance, we didn't notice the overhead door was opening, until Steve came out. He was a little dusty looking. He sat down on the red box, his legs dangling, then put one foot on the green plant stand, and took out a pack of smokes. Yep, he was still smoking the $ign Of The Dollar brand. With one hand, he reached into his pocket, pulled out his silver Zippo lighter, lit the smoke, then snapped it closed and put it back in his pocket. As he took his first drag, he looked up into the daytime sky. It was a beautiful warm fall day, but thunder clouds were rolling by, threatening rain that never seemed to materialise.

    "So that's Steve. What's he thinking?" Agent Paddy looked back at Steve, then back at me.

    I looked deep into the open garage and noticed his UC white van parked in spot #7 at the far end. He always parks there after hours . . . even during business hours if the doctor that rents that parking spot is not there at the time.

    The overhead door began to close.

    "He's a little ticked off. Let's go over there."

    We stepped out of the Rapide, walked over, then stood right in front of him.

    "Any chance of us bumming a couple of smokes there, boss?"

    Steve looked Southbound, looked back at the sky straight ahead of him, took another drag, and said nothing.

    "Can he see us, Agent Weebley?"

    I figured he could, but wondered why he was ignoring us. Then Steve's head shot over to his right and he craned his neck a little. Just beyond the TTC station and the Tim Hortons' coffee shop, 3 female joggers in white t-shirts and grey sweats were jogging our way.

    "White t-shirt contest," popped out of Steve's mouth as he gazed over there.

    Agent Paddy, Steve and I were all gazing at this point. What a sight. All 3 women were not in need of any jogging, as they seemed to be in fine physical shape. But something was amiss. It was like watching Pamela Anderson running up the beach on Baywatch, or BabeWatch, as I used to call it . . . only in triple vision.
    \ . . . pausing to make some tea . . . running out of editing time (48 hours max)

    Their jogging slowed to an almost slo' mo' or stop motion, as if they were jogging in molasses. Frame by frame, their feet slowly touched the ground in unison, but something was wrong. The 2 outboard women were oddly different from the one in the centre. As I watched their hair flying back and forth, and their slightly flushed faces, I noticed amoebic activity in the chest area . . . but the centre . . . . she was "together" in every sense of the word . . .
    \ . . . print @ 10:27 pm

    They got ever so closer . . . Steve and Agent Paddy may as well have been on another planet at this point. I was transfixed.

    Boobs flying everywhere . . . I could almost feel the chafing . . . and the high beams were on . . . the hair going left, the boobs going down . . . I could well understand why the centre babe was hanging back a little . . . injury avoidance.

    They got closer.

    I took a drag on the cigarette. Cigarette? I looked over for just a second . . . we were all taking deep drags on our smokes . . huh?

    I think the centre babeski must've planned this excursion well in advance, as she obviously invested in a well made sport bra. Eyes forward, unmoving, this girl knew where she was going and how to get there . . .

    The other 2, or should I say 4, seemed to be her cheerleaders, doing some sort of fleshy football game half-time dance . . . gimme a B . . . gimme an O . . . gimme an O . . . scary stuff!

    As they passed by, the centre girl suddenly stopped as the others jogged on . . . she looked at me, smiled, and said:" excuse me, I have another question," then stuck out her tongue, and laughed as she continued on jogging, catching up to her cheerleaders quite quickly.

    We all looked at each other, flicking out extremely hot butt ends out onto the curb in unison. Nothing was said. Nothing needed to be said.

    "Weebley," said Steve, "you are all over the place. Come, let's eat."

    We walked into the Licks Restaurant and ordered 3 cheeseburger combos.

    \ . . . print @ 10:50 pm

    After Agent Paddy and Steve exchanged notes about George Markstein, he asked me if I was going to eat my fries.

    Steve looked a little more serious now . . . "You know why I needed to speak to you, don't you, Weebley?"

    OMG, is he going to kill me again? He's already done it twice . . . I think. The first one was the worst. He stopped the site and stuck up a BBC test pattern. But even if he does kill me, there will be another Agent Weebley to take over . . . I can feel it.

    "Yeah. It's that time again, isn't it . . ."

    "I worked all this weekend and 15 hour days last week, Weebley. Your activity is inversely proportional to mine. Now, you had better speed things up a little, just in case."

    I could see he was tired. His face hung on him like a cheap suit. I always liked that line . . . where did I hear it? It'll come to me.

    He went on: "explain how your Rolf Harris-like Celtic Fidcheall Chess Game, cum variety show on, and the marketing plan to bet on the outcome of each game, will support sales of your prolific stories through Curtis Brown. And pay large, for their trouble. Anyone on Planet Earth can swap their subscription receipts for an equal amount of your gift coins. We . . . I mean you, will fill Irish peoples pockets with free gift coins as well . . . all distributed via the 42 businesses in Clones. A heavy marketing blitz . . . and make sure you set-up that Stirling Motor and generator business . . . the gift coins must be able to be redeemed for product. Then you can set up the same gig at Sevenstone . . . Sheffielders will be expecting you. Oh, and you must give 50% to amanfromMars."

    Yeah, like I didn't know that!

    As we said our goodbyes, Steve said: "we're getting really busy now. Next week is going to be really heavy." He took out the remote control from his pocket, pointed it at me, and laughed as the overhead door opened and he walked in.

    As we shot off into the sky, I could see the Porsche Panamera behind us again.

    "Who's in that thing?" Agent Paddy said.

  • Registered Users Posts: 450 ✭✭Agent Weebley

    Oh . . . I almost forgot . . .

    my mind is not for rent, to any god or government

    Neil Peart . . . Double Dutch Bass Drum Solo, please . . .

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  • Registered Users Posts: 450 ✭✭Agent Weebley

    Chapter 4: A Plethora Of Friends

    I'm sitting here at my Sony VAIO Zee, wondering how long I have to stay in Toronto, before I return to my buds still hovering above Lia Fail, and also wondering, quite frankly, whether you guys are going to actually get it . . get why I am even here on this leg of the Mission. The Mission is Operation BlueBalls . . . not sure if I've told you that already. It began October 13, 2010.

    Having said that, I'm heartened by, and would like to thank everyone who has viewed this story as it has evolved since July 24, 2012 . . . 4707 views is pretty good, as there have been virtually no LOLcat postings . . . quickie back and forth Q&A chatter, where the thread always seems to be highlighted, just begging to be clicked, therefore adding fluff to the unique views. Yes, re-viewing an un-highlighted thread does not add to the views, only when it is highlighted. This thread is at 67 views/post, climbing from about 60 views/post since I stopped posting on October 9th.

    This thread now stands at the top of 43rd place in the hit parade . . . All due to you. Thanks!

    You may be wondering what happened after Agent Paddy and I headed for the sky. It was pretty funny. I also found out that Agent Paddy's view of me was based only upon The Twilight Zone he was experiencing on this thread. He was missing the full story, and had to go back with me to my friends in Ireland to experience my and our entire history . . . and I had to leave him there, because something was amiss in that short conversation with Steve outside 658 Danforth. I had to come back to ask him another question. Anyway, that story must wait for another day.

    Paidraiggg;s Madman: "Trent" is 351 views/post.
    The Powers & Irish Times thread is at 103 views/post.
    The ARENA is at 58 views/post.
    The recent Zappa story contest is at 33 views/post.

    I'd say this thread lies between The Arena and The Powers & Times thread for popularity, due to the methodical daily posting style on this thread. What do all those numbers mean?

    Have you heard of Maslow's Hierarchy Of Needs? The lowest rank on the scale is basic needs, like food, clothing and shelter. The 2nd level is safety, and the 3rd level is the feeling of belonging to a group. The Powers & Irish Times appeals to those that want to get something . . . or win something. padraiggg's "Trent" thread is a bunch of AHers that came here to support their buddy.

    I called padraiggg back, then sent him away again . . . did you notice?

    I've been reticent to tell you that you are going to get something if you get your friends to read this story - I didn't think I would have to say it explicitly. This is where the view count comes in. After tonight, the view count will throw us into 42nd place. Our current 43rd place is magical, since 4 and 3 make 7 . . . but 42 is beyond magical. 6 and 7 are the 2 most powerful numbers. 6x7=42.

    After tomorrow, when this thread goes onto 42nd place, tell your friends to come here to view this thread. I will begin to explain what happened when we headed for the sky, as well as explaining my Frank Zappa story, which was the filthiest, dirtiest story I have ever written . . . and my "Judgement" story, which is tied together with The Orwell threads . . . heck everything and everyone are tied together. . . connected.

    Once we go over 103 views/post, I will be able to approach Curtis Brown. Then you will all get something . . . not just you, but everyone in Ireland.

    And it will be beautiful . . . I promise.

    Operation BlueBalls is now in full swing!

  • Registered Users Posts: 450 ✭✭Agent Weebley

    Thanks to viewer 4713 thru viewer 4735 , , , we did it! 42 in the hit parade!

    This is going to be one of those weekends . . . I can feel it, can you feel it?

    I picked the wrong week to quit my scatologist gig. Oh yeah. I neglected to mention I consulted with Frank Zappa and Dennis Hopper for my Zappa story. I'd play Easy Rider, but I need to grind the craic on this post.

    Firstly, the filth . . . we need a sign. How about Real Time Writing Exercise Number 2

    / . . . later . . .I just woke up during a lucid dream . . . it's 3am Eternal here (EST Canada/US,) so hi ho, hi ho, it's back to bed I go
    / . . . got up @ 7am and went to work with Steve - I just returned a few minutes ago @ 9:30pm EST Canada/US . . . a typical long day for him

    Our intention is to start a new game that involves manufacturing virtually impossible to counterfeit 2 sided lenticular plastic game pieces in Ireland . . . game pieces that would be used as money. This money would be given to each Irish person as marketing giveaways, so you can trade again, thereby doing an end run on the IMF, who is trying to destroy the Irish. The existing monetary system would become irrelevant in due course. Sales of my stories and other media and events would finance the whole thing.

    All legal in Canada and around the world, since it is only a game . . . a game called ARG MetaPhoria - The Game Peace.

    We give . . . without measure.

    Unfortunately, just saying the above could get me killed, so I will post a little something to encapsulate what I just said.

  • Registered Users Posts: 3 Agent Revolver

    "we need a sign" --

    Hi Agent Weebley. I think here it is, . A roadmark... I find it having some - purely - local connotation for some of the persons from the place you brought me in... but nevertheless. Ah, mesiberian can't find how they attach a picture to the forum here in Ireland (-:

  • Registered Users Posts: 450 ✭✭Agent Weebley

    Hi Agent Revolver! Incredible timing. The moment I delete a post, you add a post. And you are quite right.

    I'm so glad you came back, but this is not the place . . . no images allowed. Did you see the image Epstein stuck on our site? Could be an anomaly, but then again . . .

    Meet me in the AirCar for A Hungry Man Breakfast. Agent Pete 8 came back too. This is awesome!

  • Closed Accounts Posts: 158 ✭✭dogmax

    Well Agent Weebley, something I pick up along the way, all human thoughts are related to each other, but without communication.

    Welcome Agent Revolver to the creative writing forum, this is where our thoughts can communicate, and that road sign is black and white, we need to put a bit of colour in it.

    And Agent Weebley, just two questions my friend, this game, does it come in a box, and can I put it under the Christmas tree. ;)

  • Registered Users Posts: 450 ✭✭Agent Weebley

  • Registered Users Posts: 450 ✭✭Agent Weebley

    Chapter 5: Where In The World Is Agent Weebley?

    In the absence of Agent Weebley, who would have loved to have reply Number 77, and is currently with a very busy fire protection contractor, named Steve Munster, in Toronto, we are placemarking this post as a segue point for you to read on. We are sure Agent Weebley will want to come back to the past, in the future . . . once he sees some substance, as he put it.

  • Registered Users Posts: 450 ✭✭Agent Weebley

    Chapter 6: Fall In

    This may seem like an unusual occurrence on this website: not quite a re-reg - more like an alt-reg. Epstein, Agent Heggle and I (Agent Paddy) have been surreptitiously logging onto the Creative Writing section using Agent Weebley's logon for the entire 2 week period Agent Weebley has been non compos mentis, so to speak.

    We have seen substance, but cannot get through to Agent Weebley at this time. Substance, namely, a highly under-rated and over criticised post by lukesmom, called: "This land's a thief". I shall get to that post in due course. Coincidentally, or not so coincidentally, lukesmom is from Navan - the town in which we set-up, after a heavy bout of drinking in John Smyth's Lounge. But that is another story.

    The weekend that Agent Weebley and I went to Toronto to meet up with Steve, I became privy to a few missing links in the story. He was planning the Frank Zappa story at the time, and gave me the elusive tie-in between The Twilight Zone Competition and this Lug Nutz a.k.a. Mound Of Hostages story, which I am sure many of you are keen to understand.

    Both the Frank Zappa story and this story are linked with The Twilight Zone Competition - his menagerie a trois.

    To compound matters, it involves a bomb: The B-Bomb, as amanfromMars and Agent Weebley have termed it. Do not be alarmed. It is a bomb that implodes as it explodes, so, to the naked eye, it seems like nothing is really happening. Magic!

    Clues to the B-Bomb are steganographically encoded in the following video:

    And if you are good boys and girls, I will tie the whole story into The Prisoner, as an added bonus.

    I will elucidate further, as time permits.

    B seeing you!

  • Registered Users Posts: 450 ✭✭Agent Weebley

    I've been working on a post, but I'm not finished yet. It involves lukesmom, Agent Weebley, all budding writers, readers, and.

    I had better hold off for now; I need to speak to Number 1.

    In the meantime, I'll play an album that Steve got when he was a kid. Another clue to the B-Bomb:

  • Registered Users Posts: 450 ✭✭Agent Weebley

    I'm back. I'd bet you didn't even know I had gone. Well Come back to me?

    I just went back to our rooms at Athlumney Manor, but Pat stopped me at the door.

    "Epstein checked you guys out, earlier today!" he said. I noticed a twinkle in his eye, as he said it. "I helped him get The Sony Bravia into a strange vehicle."

    Seemingly not understanding him, which was actually more confusion than non-comprehension, he guided me to our rooms to show me. They were indeed vacated, just as he had said. The Sony Vaio was also missing. This topped off my most strange AirCar flight experience; a flight that gave me insight into where Doctor Sternum may have gone, and why Agent Weebley has not returned yet.

    The last I saw Epstein and Agent Heggle, we were walking out to our AirCars; the deep blue colour of mine was a seductive electric blue. As we approached, a 3 green laser beam shot out vertically to the ground as we reached our respective undercarriages. Epstein stepped into his laser beam first, then Agent Heggle, then me.

    Once inside, I took a cursory look around, as I walked to the Captain's chair. It had the same bland interior, devoid of notable features; exactly like the original. As I sat in the chair, I looked left and right. We all gave each other the thumbs up. Epstein disappeared almost instantly, but Agent Heggle took a couple of minutes, then poof, gone.

    Me, on the other hand, went nowhere, man.

    I did exactly what Agent Weebley said to do, when we took off into the sky from Danforth and Pape: turn off my mind and float downstream:

    That was indeed a strange day at 658 Danforth, talking to Steve about George Markstein. He knew George Markstein was an MI5 operative, as did I.

    "Direct hearts and minds to the pointlessness of breaking out of the current system . . . just like The Matrix . . . always a circle back to the starting point . . . acceptance . . . compliance."

    Steve's words rocked me to my core. No-one else knew George and I parted company because I rejected George's mandate from his superiors. A calculated move on my part.

    I never worked in the UK again after that series.

    George told me I was "done" in the UK after I tossed him off the series. George and I laugh about it now. He was told to say that. We each had a job at the time. We were both used. He applauds my singularity of thought in The Prisoner - to blow open the mind to the duality of the human mind.

    The great escape.

    As I sat there in that Captain's Chair, I looked around. An iPhone4, a Sony Vaio Zee, and a 52" Sony Bravia were at my fingertips. All except the Bravia, as it has a "too close to the screen" shut-off alarm. It was a comfortable 10'away.

    I surfed the web, stopping and reading amanfromMars' post: 121115 …. Today saving the Best until Last

    It was, as always, an interesting read. I F5ed it after reading, and found amanfromMars had just inserted on one of my Danger Man episodes at the end: The Blue Veil. Instantly, I knew he was sending me an example of a typical MI5 operative's message: we are not slaves, slaves are other people far, far away; the reason I resigned from Danger Man, and was sent to The Village.

    But I needed their money to continue my quest.

    Ah yes, my quest.

    This is where things got a little funky. I began to think about the duality of the human mind. How it needs to combine to understand. The media machine wants you to not think. Keep the mind busy on trivialities. Keep the mind's attention diverted away from pondering what is really going on in this world.

    We are all slaves to the system.

    If we all came together, we would break the system apart.

    I had a chuckle over my naming of this Chapter 6: Fall In, which is the obverse of Fall Out and a joining of alms or arms, depending on your bent. Number 6 joined with Number 1 to become 7 - Agent Weebley's favourite number. Does Agent Weebley know?

    I thought back to me walking down that symbolic hallway in the last Episode:

    Did you notice I walked by the same jukebox twice? The first album you notice is The Best Of Al Jolson. Omitted from that album is the best tune he ever wrote, and an homage to the sinister machinations of the Power Elite in this world - pump up the Tiger in all of us, then shoot it:

    I glanced out of the AirCar window, and Athlumney Manor was nowhere, man. How odd? I wasn't sure where I was at that point.

    The other jukebox album, Girl Talk, by Lesley Gore, contained a song: It's My Party:

    A message from Lesley Gore to my wife, Joan Drummond - the woman I love forever:

    Your Johnny Drake met his Number 1, and it is Judy - a woman.

    I came together so I could be with you, Joan.

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  • Registered Users Posts: 450 ✭✭Agent Weebley

    Hello again!

    Before I get into my post for today, I need to speak about something quite important - padraiggg. But I can't leave this thread, as it would be disingenuous of me to do so, and talking about padraiggg here, is more even keeled, I would say.

    I would like to personally thank padraiggg for throwing his Trilby into the ring. I must put my mouth guard in for a short while, but what I can say at this point: padraiggg - a few quick jabs won't give you the knockout, even though the crowd is egging you on. You need left hooks, right hooks, and most importantly, stamina to go the distance - and a secret weapon. Keep a stiff upper lip, lad. Maybe Chad needs to tag team in the ring with Trent? We may have an opportunity for you - a knock-out.

    Onto my catatonia for the past few days. After my post, amanfromMars posted a comment to me:

    "That post has certainly raised the Great Game bar to new heights with considerably higher standards of securing protected access engaging leading plays, Agent Paddy.

    Bravo ….. and just in time at the right time, too, whenever it is badly needed and rightly deserved. Or so it would seem, which is quite good enough whenever one knows/thinks one knows what needs to be done.

    Spooky Anonymous Servers can as easily Deliver and Provision an Expanding Catastrophic Nightmare Reality Scenario as one which is Seventh Heavenly and QuITe Divine and the Intellectual Property of Virtual Machines and CyberIntelAIgent IDEntities …… Real SMART Virtual Proxies of Invisible and Intangible Being ……. a sort of new phorm with Cloaked Alien Presence.

    And the choice as to which one these will shape and deliver the Future , or any other program for that matter, with strings of media events that may or may not be shared and put forward and supported for realisation, is quite the disruptive Joker in a pack full of Aces who would be Kings and Queens and Knaves."

    To which I replied 4 days later:

    Thanks for your kind words, amanfromMars. It took a lot out of me to produce the above post, and some very odd things happened in the meantime.

    Please excuse my “drop out” the past 4 days, but now it the time to tune in, and, to the 1557 people, viewing 5722 pages in the past 4 days, we thank you – you will get to see my next post before the 70 people that have viewed 5600 pages of Lug Nutz a.k.a. Mound Of Hostages over on in the past 4 months.

    To which, Epstein chimed in with a comment:

    Hi amanfromMars and Agent Paddy,

    I second that emotion. Give us the News, Agent Paddy . . .

    There is more, but that is the gist of yesterday's conversation, which has since morphed [insert mouth guard here.] Which leaves me in a position that Agent Weebley found himself in all the time: do I just meander with the flow?

    It's funny, but our situation is endless. We can clear up loose ends anytime. Having said that, I did say I would explain Agent Weebley and my trip back here in the Rapide, and what he told me on that trip back from Toronto. I shall honour that commitment here, and do what I have to do, there.

    And this is the slightly delayed post from 3pm yesterday:

    DF- 121122 – 3 Laws

    Posted on November 22, 2012 by Agent Paddy


    I managed to focus on reaching Lia Fáil, which I did a short while ago. Both Agent Heggle and Epstein were facing The Stone Of Destiny, so I nosed my AirCar in amongst theirs. They moved over and we became equidistant at, I would assume, 120 degrees from each other. Both their 3 green laser beams were drilling directly down to ground, so I activated mine. As soon as my beam reached the ground, the beams moved into towards Lia Fáil, and it became a focal point.

    That was when another 3 green laser beam shot out of the nose of each of our crafts, joining each AirCar with each other.

    I was in awe of the symbolism, as were Epstein and Agent Heggle.

    We are now in a period of planning. Epstein is on PayPal, creating buttons, Agent Heggle is helping me write the next post, and, since it needs to be perfectly tuned to 70 billion people, we are going to put our heads down and work until we have something that will stay in perpetual motion. We will keep you posted on this thread.

    B seeing you!

    Oh, and to reply to you, amanfromMars, on your comment on my last post, one of the things Agent Weebley told me on our way back here from Toronto, he writes tridently: for himself, for you, and for everyone on this planet.

    Once it passes the 3 tests, he posts. We are carrying on his style as best we can in his absence. It may take a couple of days to perfect the next post.

  • Registered Users Posts: 450 ✭✭Agent Weebley

    Please excuse my absence of late, but we are very busy elsewhere; I will return shortly.

    If anyone can reach lukesmom, we would appreciate someone contacting her, as we think she should come back to Creative Writing, as we see an event (on the) horizon. She should have a warmer reception next time; we hear Agent Weebley is coming back.

    I really must tidy up my Chapter 6 - Fall In, Soon.

    B seeing you!

  • Registered Users Posts: 450 ✭✭Agent Weebley

    Hi everyone,

    Awe fully quiet around here!

    Agent Weebley came back to ARG MetaPhoria a couple of days ago, but he left again! Hopefully, he will be able to take over writing here on this thread, later today. - I know you guys have not been able to make heads nor tails of his antics over the past few months, but his heart is in the right place, and you really should give him a chance. He is a Lug, but not Nutz.

    You think this thread has been a Twilight Zone up until now? Look out, we're going into a whole new dimension!

    In this brief period of quiet here, we've been quite busy drafting up a business! Yes, it's viable, doable, and sorely needed. The best part is that it it is open source for the people of the world to run - beginning with the Irish.

    I know I've not posted here in a little while, and I do owe you that explanation about my trip back here from Toronto with Agent Weebley, but this business, something much more important, has occurred. Oh. and I have been checking in, and saw lukesmom was on this Forum recently. Thanks to whomever mentioned it to her. Agent Weebley also wants me to mention to get the word out to dogmax.

    We have been running the Turing Machine pretty hard the past few days, on what we have dubbed The Magical Mystery Ture. I played the title song (above,) but the remainder of the songs have been played on ARG MetaPhoria, and applicable to the subject matter at hand.

    The following Turing calculation has been made:

    Stirling engines, powering generators, compressors, pumps etc is the business,

    MetaFlorin is the investment certificate, issued as redeemable Gift Coins.

    Passwords to stories are given away for free with every donation/investment.

    We writers here at will hopefully write our hearts out and give the stories away for free to the person who donates/invests in Stirling engines.*

    But Christmas is coming up, and we want to help the children of Ireland by way of the Santa Strike Force. The Stirling business is in abeyance until December 26. All monies raised in phase 1 of The Magical Mystery Ture will be donated to The Santa Strike Force in the name of OldGoat, pickarooney, Gordon, and everyone from The Creative Writing Forum on

    *There 2 more phases to the project - you can find out how they evolved here. Enjoy!

    Hopefully, Agent Weebley will be back here later to elaborate, and help you understand how you can help with the cause, and simultaneously help yourselves.

    Get your virtual pens out, people, we have some writing to do between now and Christmas!

    Maybe I will write that Twilight Zone and Frank Zappa "tie in" behind the paywall - and Agent Weebley will do the same with his "Agent Weebley does DARPA" screenplay?

    We need a story discussion thread.

    B seeing you!

  • Registered Users Posts: 450 ✭✭Agent Weebley

    Hi everyone!

    We've had a most bizarre last few days. I'm not ready to post here yet, but my friend Epstein has kicked off the Santa Strike Force Campaign to help Irish Sick Kids.

    I have to sleep for a while, so I will explain more after I get up. More info can be found here and here.

    Epstein is going to write a free story, daily. Chapter 001 of a story, called - Brian Domage. Does anyone else want to write a story, where you add to, and edit it daily at your leisure?

    We could call it the SSF Chapter 001 Campaign. Everyone can write a Chapter 1, right? No ending is required.

    A demain.

    [To be continued]

  • Registered Users Posts: 450 ✭✭Agent Weebley

    [Part 2 - Continued From Post 7 - Part 1]

    We've been pretty busy sprucing up the delivery of free stories, and morphed the layout to include letting any writer in the World sell stories on ARG MetaPhoria. We realised that the lack of readies is a great strain on people in Europe, especially in Ireland. Any writer can build a story, edit, add, delete as they see fit, and can receive whatever percentage they need, up to 100% of the net receipts, which is gross minus 3.25%. Toal freedom to write whatever you want. Who are we to censor you?

    I was a little reticent to post here today, but yesterday, Agent Revolver threw his Trilby into the ring and wants to write - in Cyrillic - what a pleasant surprise! Agent Weebley said yes, no problem, you can post your story in Cyrillic. We have a built in Machine Translator, you know.

    It got me thinking, and thinking, and even more thinking, but no doing.

    As I paced around Epstein's AirCar, I happened upon Agent Heggle (he's German, you know.) He was playing this song:

    I ran up and shook his hand in appreciation.

    Anyway, I have a story to write, so I bid you adieu in the meantime between this post and my last of 7 posts: 7-3

  • Registered Users Posts: 450 ✭✭Agent Weebley

    [Part 3 - Continued From Post 7 - Part 1 and 2]

    You'll have to excuse us, but we are currently copying, pasting, editing and re-linking the entire Lug Nutz a.k.a. Mound Of Hostages thread into ARG MetaPhoria.

    Look up at the top of the screen and you will see "Lug Nutz." Epstein is currently working on Chapter 3, post 64, or thereabouts.

    We are doing this for 2 reasons: the first reason is to show you what your for money story would look like on our site, but the 2nd reason cannot be revealed until it is done. I know you may think we are just a bunch of coneheads, but there is madness to our method.

    This is the last of my post 7, 3 part post. Agent Weebley will be back to begin Chapter 7 as soon as the entire real life fantasy game "story" has been transcribed.

    Did I mention that John Lennon has agreed to join us on our Mission: Operation BlueBalls? We haven't seen him yet, but you may want to come up to the lab, and see what's on the slab. We are definitely writhing in ecstatic antici . . . . . . . . . . . . . pation:

    Thank you for reading my posts. It has been a very enjoyable time.

    B seeing you!

  • Registered Users Posts: 450 ✭✭Agent Weebley

    Chapter 7:The B-Bomb

    Hi everyone.

    I feel a little silly right now. Steve wanted me to wait for him, before I post anything today . . . I mean yesterday. He wants to help me explain things to you.

    I got a phone call from him earlier today, around 2:44pm GMT, so I posted a little note on ARG MetaPhoria. It went like this:

    [12/19/12 @ 9:44 am EST US/Canada]

    I'm talking to Steve right now on the iPhone4. This all stems from the washroom meeting at his company Christmas party last Sunday . . . I'll explain later. Sorry about this.

    [To be continued]

    I waited until 7pm EST US/Canada, which is Midnight . . . like he promised, then gave it another half an hour . . . still nothing. So I posted a continuation, as follows:

    [Continued @ 7:39pm EST US/Canada]

    Still no word from Steve. He told me to hold off posting anything until he texted me . . . he'd be done work by 7pm. "Running around like a chicken with his head cut off," he said.

    7pm EST US/Canada came and went . . . nothing.

    Steve said for me to wait until 8:30pm EST US/Canada, and if he didn't show, go back into the Rapide, then get everyone ready to go to Tara Hill in their own AirCars.

    Give the AirCars a clockwise rotation, like what was done to Agent Paddy in The Girl Who was Death, then start moving toward Tara Hill.

    Embed Black Bull, then press POST on ARG MetaPhoria, and simultaneously.

    Here we go!

    Add-on posted 12/20/2012 @ 7:30 pm EST US/Canada

    Comfy car to sleep in, this Rapide . . . [stretch / yawn]

    Oh my, look at the time!

    Looking out at the 3 AirCars ahead of my Rapide, it seems we are all in a spinning holding pattern just West of Tara Hill. I had better talk to the others soon; I guess we're in the final approach.

    You should see the cool spinning green laser beams. I am the vortex, with a thin 3 green laser beam line leading to each of the 3 AirCars. There's also a triangular pattern created by the 3 green laser beams connecting the equidistant AirCars . . . and the mesmerising spin of the 3 AirCars reminds me of that Bashar video from a while back:

    I just took a look at what I posted here a few hours ago, chuckling that it looked like the tip of an iceberg on . . . are we on a Titanic head-on course? There's much more on our site.

    Anyway, no matter. The reason I stopped short on this post on, was that I really didn't know how to proceed, so I consulted the rest of our Turing Machine to get the answer. Epstein, Agent Heggle, Agent Paddy and I arrived at the answer while discussing Governments and money creation in the comment section.

    I was tired, otherwise I would have gone on to talk about how a bank can loan out . . . let's say . . . $1 million. That $1 million goes on their books as an asset. That asset can then be used to lend out a further $9 million. If another 9 people come along and borrow $1 million each, then it's easy to see how money can begin to slosh around . . . all under the control of banks.

    Governments and their money-making-scam pales in comparison!

    Oh, and when the banks stop lending, like they have in Ireland, the money sloshing around goes down the drain hole pretty quickly, leaving everyone holding the outstanding debt, which is akin to the ring around the bathtub . . . gross, greasy, and you have no idea how to make it just go away without a lot of elbow grease.

    Imagine a giant sucking sound, as the water circles the drain.

    "No money for you Mister BrokeMan. You're not a good risk. Piss off!" . . . Dave Allen said it well.

    We can use their Balance Sheet concept to grow a new tax free currency for the people . . . outwardly looking like play money . . . remember trading Pogs, or maybe Pokemon Cards, or Soccer Cards?

    Excuse me for a minute . . . I have to post a note to Darby Jie on The Daily Bell. He or she was asking about me. Back in a mo'

    There . . . done.

    Money talk is quite a dry topic, isn't it? Let's get back on track . . . I need to tidy up 3 things; time is of the essence:

    1) My critique of the 3 Twilight Zone stories, and how they spurred me into this 34,000+ word Lug Nutz .a.k.a. Mound Of Hostages story,

    2) My Frank Zappa - Room Service story,

    3) My Judgement story I wrote in competition with hcass in the now seemingly collapsed Arena. Whatever happened to hcass? I should look her up on that blog of hers.

    I wrote that Judgement story after the Frank Zappa story. It was a little freaky to me that a true story about colour blindness would turn out like it did. A guy who sees green as pink. Invisible to everyone but him. Incredible! It reminded me of Ms Pinky, the inflatable doll that they painted green . . . Ms Pinky disguised in green, so it could be the Green Hocker that Romeo wanted for dinner, but Romeo ended up just talking to his wife, Juliette.

    I dislike Judgement. Judging too much, means writing someone's ideas off as wrong, so you can keep your World View intact. It was in October 2006 when my World View blew up . . . all because I believed something seemingly unbelievable to me at the time. Just for a few minutes I believed that opposite of my World View was true.

    Yes, folks . . . I was an unbeliever many moons ago.

    Writing off what's happening in this story . . . dismissing it as if it was nothing exceptional . . . dismissing it as if you are not in this story with me . . . writing me off as completely mad . . .

    In October 2010, I became but one of many aliens . . . Me? I am from MetaPhoria . . . and we are here to help you . . . and we would like you, in turn, to help each other, and to help us.

  • Registered Users Posts: 450 ✭✭Agent Weebley


    What a strange last couple of days it has been. Sitting here high above Munster Road, facing East into Lia Fáil and The Mound Of Hostages . . . the 3 AirCars spinning in front of me . . . I thought to myself, yesterday, wouldn't it be nice to swing the Rapide above the AirCars and have them rotate around Lia Fáil, encompassing The Mound Of Hostages - it would make for a nice effect. And The Winter Solstice is upon us; what fortuitous timing! It was a beautiful sight, seeing us incline into position . . . the slow rotation that looks to me like it is settling in on a relaxing 6 cycles per minute. They're all facing inwards now . . . into Lia Fáil . . . a ballet of sorts . . . all toes pointed in, slightly angled down. Me? Also angled downwards, so I can see.

    It's quite funny . . . Epstein, Agent Heggle and Agent Paddy are all calling into me, probably wanting to know why we've changed positions, but I cannot speak to them right now.

    I must do this . . the message must get through.

    As I look down, I can see the 3 green laser beam connections between the AirCars is quite strong, but my vortex connection to each AirCar looks weaker. I'm going to drop it down a little - maybe it will strengthen. Hmm, I see a Black Porsche Panamera, parked beside the Mound Of Hostages. And the driver's door just opened. I'll stop, so I can see better.

    It's obviously, the Black Panamera.

    Funny, really. I never did talk about who was driving it. It was Lug, the God Of Creativity. Man, that was a fun cat-and-mouse chase in Toronto back in September! As Agent Paddy and I took to the sky, I figured we would buzz The CN Tower, but as we circled back, we came across a multi-car fender bender extending North from the N/W corner of Carlaw and Gerrard St. Remember that lady: another question? she and her 2 friends were the cause of the mishap.

    Hang on, who's that with Lug? It looks like Jacksie, Aslan and Agent DelKey! All 3 just got out of the car, and are heading to The Mound Of Hostages.

    Yeah, I don't think I mentioned anything on about us all being in Blarnia.

    As the 3 AirCars sit there spinning, clockwise . . . a peaceful slow spin, I remember going back to Toronto after dropping Agent Paddy off in Ireland. Going back to see Steve. I never mentioned to a soul, not even Epstein, about what Steve and I spoke of on my return to Toronto.

    "Steve, are you prepared for the possible outcome that you and Graham may be killed during Operation BlueBalls?"

    Hang on . . . did you hear that?

    It's a murmuring . . . coming from inside here in my Rapide . . . weird.

    Anyway, getting back on track . . . no way . . . it sounds like Lucy! She's saying: "focus."

    Where was I?

    Steve thought about it for a moment, an almost imperceptible moment, and replied . . .

    Nerfy? Is that you? I'm sure I just heard my daughter, Nerfy, murmur: "listen to Mum."

    I'm looking around. Maybe I'm losing it? They're definitely not here with me - the stereo is off, my Sony Vaio Zee is hibernating, and my iPhone4 is asleep, so it can't be anything do do with electronics.

    Whoa, it looks like either JRR Tolkein or Gandalf just came out of The Mound Of Hostages to greet the group.

    Something big is happening down there . . . I can feel it . . . can you feel it?

    [To be continued]



    Rather than belabour the point about what the heck happened to us . . .we lost communication yesterday, you may want to click the picture at the top to find out. Needless to say, it was funkytown around here.

    Once the dust settled, and I could relax a little, the spinning continued, with me waiting for an opportune moment to lower our group down to Lia Fáil, I became a little mesmerised by the spin. It reminded me of the time we were at Santa Monica Pier . . . and I strained my ear to hear if Lucy or Nerfy were murmuring anything else . . . sure, I have to focus . . . I can't help but be distracted by the current goings on . . . it's one of my combination strengths and weaknesses . . . Ah, LA, love that place . . .

    Ah yes, The Twilight Zone. I must remember to tidy up the fact that anything we write cn easily come true . . . all we have to do is . . .


    "Hi Weebley. Nerfy and I are in the back seat. We wouldn't miss this for the World."

    "Holy Chit!!! [big hugs all around]

    We're ready . . . I thought about how I would just love to meet Aslan, Jacksie, Gandalf, and to ask Lug what he thinks of the Panamera . . . does he like the chipped version . ..ow!" [Lucy just gave me a dig in the bake]

    The best way to avert a nuclear meltdown is for everyone to put there minds to it. We all need to club together . . . peace . . . love . . . we can do it.

    Our Rapide is now slowly descending, the 3 AirCars descending a little, the 3 green laser beam vortex connection between our Rapide and their AirCars is getting stronger . . . thicker.

    Lower we go.

    How come the AirCars' spin is speeding up?

    Lower still.

    We're getting close to the ground now.

    Jesus, Mary and Joseph . . . the AirCars just shot off in different directions!

    And no spin! We're still connected, though. Hang on . . .

  • Closed Accounts Posts: 158 ✭✭dogmax

    Merry Christmas to all. :cool:

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  • Registered Users Posts: 450 ✭✭Agent Weebley

    Merry Christmas dogmax, and to the 6.2 million Irish, as well as the 80 million Irish diaspora. This coming year is when we join together for the common good.

    And dogmax, you totally blew my Chapter 7, 3 post plan . . . God love you for that . . . thanks!

    All we have to do is realise we have the power to change . . . we just have to come together and read between the lines.

    Do you want to be Agent Dogmax, dogmax? You are a special soul.