An educational session of huge proportions, known not only for its irrelevence and time consumption, but for its ability to suck the life out of every single person attending
Heather: I'm really bored of this EPPS Sessions
Richard: Really? I don't care, I'm playing Rat on a Scooter!
Cover identity for a federal agent who was tasked with participation in the January 6th False Flag. "Epps" was seen on on the day of and days leading up to the 1/6 False Flag. Though he was captured on video participating in the event, shouting for participants to breach capital security, and is clearly participating in the alleged criminal conspiracy; Epps has not been formally charged.
"Epps" has testified in front of the January 6 Committee, though his testimony was not televised and the transcripts have not been released.
Normie - "Did you see that Ray Epps guy?"
Chad Insurrectionists "Oh you mean the fucking Fed shouting for people to enter the capital?"
Normie - "Ugh conspiracy theorist"
A phenomenon in film/television series, most notably streaming series, where the main premise is drawn out to such a point that it takes an entire season or more to get the parts of the series the audience is actually interested in seeing.
For example, if a series is titled "Surf Dracula," a majority of viewers would tune in expecting to see Dracula surfing by the first or second episode. However, the entire first season would instead be tedious padding and backstory before finally ending with Dracula surfing in the last five minutes of the season finale.
I watched "Smallville" on Netflix the other day. Dude, it was ten seasons of filler before he finally flew! Major Surf Dracula Syndrome!
Finding your way back to the truth by fixing on one verified fact and working out from there, the way you navigate by the North Star when everything around you is spinning.
Rumours were flyingeverywhere, so she went northstarring — one checked fact at a time.