I have never bought into organized religion of any sort, but I do believe there is a greater force out there. I think he/she is a benevolent sort of god with a sense of humor and a streak of wickedness. The sort of god who announces at random:
“I have hidden another sheet of blue paper in a hub. Can you find it?”
The first few times I heard that phrase I ran for it. Clicking from hub to hub, hoping to find that blue sheet of paper. I didn’t even truly understand the worth of such a thing - I just wanted to see if I could find it. Like the saying goes about happiness, though, the more I searched the less I seemed to find. So I gave up. Towards the end of the prototype there were times when I’d stroll into a hub only to find 3 sheets of blue paper stacked on the ground. By then I’d discovered the game was about so much more than paper - my usual reaction was to pick them all up except for 1 and scatter them through the adjacent hubs.
Just after midnight PST on February 1st, the world of Instancia came to an end. I, as well as hundreds of others, was so caught up in the long goodbyes and the last minute blowing of wombat whistles that I completely forgot about something until a few days later. With Instancia ending and months until the beta would begin, what would God be filling his days with? Sure, he liked to take credit for the creation of the world, but us humans knew the real creators were the devs. God was just brought in to keep things fair - after all we couldn’t really have Caterina or Stewart dropping blue papers, could we? They’d be mobbed. It was a brilliant idea to bring God in as an objective paper dropper and announcer of things to come. My mind was struck with the sorrowful image of God, dropping blue papers in some dimension even he couldn’t escape. Would he be trapped there forever, doomed to repeat his announcements and drop papers no one will ever see?
A few days later I had my answer. I was right in the middle of making my favorite triple chocolate cookies when I realized I was completely out of vanilla. I hopped in the car and drove over to the grocery store to pick some up. As I walked down aisle 12, looking for the needed ingredient, I heard a small voice coming from the speakers overhead.
“I have hidden another new item in an aisle. Can you find it?”
Halfway through that sentence I had found the vanilla, my hand grasping it as I turned to walk to the cashier. When it hit me what I had heard, I was so shocked that the vanilla dropped and shattered on the floor. Another customer, moving her cart around to pass me, gave me a dirty look before heading off down the aisle.
I didn’t try to speak back to God. It was my experience that even in the prototype God rarely spoke back to us puny humans.
After that I realized that if I kept my ears open I might hear him again. It was weeks, however, before I heard anything. I was starting to give up, and had more than once wondered if that day in the store had just been me taking a brief vacation from my sanity.
The second time I heard God speak outside of the prototype it was in my car. I was driving home from work and all I could think about was getting home as quickly as possible. I had the radio on, but I wasn’t really listening. I must have been about halfway home when I heard the voice again, this time coming from the radio:
“I have hidden another police car behind you. Can you find it?”
I pegged my speed down to an acceptable one and glanced in the rearview mirror. Ten minutes later - there it was, with the telltale flashing of red and blue as it pulled over the man in the green Honda civic next to me.
I’m really not sure how God’s doing it, but since those first few times I’ve started hearing him all over the place. At the movie theater the other day I heard “I have hidden some chewed bubblegum in an aisle. Can you find it?” Sure enough, when the movie ended and we all filed out, the lady in front of me stepped right into it. She didn’t seem nearly as happy about her find as we used to be about the blue papers. I even tried to cheer her with a “Yay! You found it!” and she gave me a venomous look before huffing off. That was the first time I really started to wonder if others were unable to hear God’s announcements.
I haven’t asked anyone the key question on my mind. “Do you hear it too?” I’m so afraid their answer will be “No”. Although I could be thrilled that I am experiencing a unique phenomena I think I’d rather have someone I could share it with.
I’m not any better at finding the new things God drops than I was at finding the blue papers. Every now and then I am lucky enough to be in the right spot at the right time - otherwise someone else gets the god-dropping. So far I have found: a broken lighter he dropped in a parking lot, a stray puppy he dropped in a friend’s neighborhood, a hairball dropped in my house, a ballpoint pen dropped in a convenience store, and 30 quarters he made drop from a slot machine while I was in Vegas.
The interesting thing about all this is that, of all the times I’ve heard him since the prototype ended, he has never announced the dropping of a blue paper. It could be that he knows we would have no interest in blue papers in our world outside Instancia. Or maybe he’s just trying out new things while he whiles away the time waiting for the beta like the rest of us. Whatever he’s doing, I hope he keeps it up. I hate to think of his alternatives - sitting on the edge of Stewart’s desk impatiently asking “Is it done YET?” or simply fading into black until he’s ready to be called back for the beta.
You are probably wondering why I’ve chosen to come out with this information now, when I’ve been living with it alone for months. Well, there are a few reasons. The first is that, yes, I’d love to know if anyone else can hear him. What good is hearing him announce droppings if you have no one to share the joy with? The other, more important reason is that there is something you all really must know. A few days ago I was watering my lawn when I heard God’s now familiar voice call out.
“This is not the REAL World. Yes it has flaws. I am not finished yet! This is merely a throwaway PROTOTYPE, puny humans.”
