This morning, at precisely 8:29 a.m., I received an email from Iamamiwhoami.
It came exactly one week after I wrote this borderline-creepy “open letter” to the person (or persons) responsible for the maddeningly addictive viral campaign, and, though his or her note didn’t exactly explain much … or, really, anything, I’m still sort of reeling from it.
See, the e-mail contained a link to a brand-new video (the fourth in the series), in which a mud-smeared female gnaws at a tree, sings along to a thumping, chime-y electro track and then hovers triumphantly above the stump the fallen timber. There are also shots of puppies frolicking in the snow and the sound of flies buzzing. I am not sure what any of it means.
Also included with the video was another string of numerals (220.127.116.11.18.104.22.168.18.1.1110), which, when using the English Alphabet (with 1 representing A, 2 meaning B and so on), spells out “Mandragora,” which, according to Wikipedia, are “familiar demons who appear in the figures of little men without beards.”
So, needless to say, I’m sort of frightened now. Not to mention honored. Because whoever Iamamiwhoami is, he or she has decided to include me in their little game. And I would like to let them know that I am ready for whatever they’ve got next. As I wrote in my open letter, “I’m not too proud to come crawling back to you. Even if it means crawling all the way to Vanuatu.” Obviously, they know how to reach me … and whenever they do, I’ll respond. I’m slightly terrified. And I’m waiting.