KINGS, presidents, emperors, and even supreme dictators gathered together on April 10 just outside of Disneyland in Anaheim, California.

If you’re wondering why you haven’t heard of this large assembly until now it’s because the countries represented aren’t technically real.

It’s a meeting of “micronations” — countries that exist almost entirely online, or are comprised of one person — called MicroCon 2015. There are approximately 400 of them out there, according to some reports.

And they have some incredible names: Who wouldn’t want to pay a visit to the “Republic of Molossia,” the “Grand Duchy of Broslavia,” or “the Provision Territories of F.A.R.T”?

So what do micronations actually look like? Depends on the theoretical nation. The Principality of Sealand, the most famous example of a micronation, located on a sea fort off the shores of the United Kingdom, invites one to become a Lord, Lady, or Baroness on its official website.

The Republic of Molossia has an official tourist season, passport stamps, and tours given by the president himself.

While it doesn’t take much to create your very own micronation, some have some interesting back stories. Molossia was first established by MicroCon’s organizer, Kevin Baugh, in 1977. It spans 1.3 acres in Nevada.


The Grand Duchy of Westarctica was established after its leader, Travis McHenry, realized that no other nation has laid claim to part of the Antarctic back in 2001.

The Grand Duchy of Broslavia is headed by Jacob Felts, whose nation of five citizens claims to have a volunteer army sporting cardboard AK-47s that fire rubber bands.

Sealand was borne out of a dispute over a British pirate radio station.

The Royal Republic of Ladonia formed after a 2011 dispute over a sculpture in Sweden.

MicroCon was the first of its kind in North America, and the schedule was pretty jam packed. Attendees, according to the conference’s website, were “invited to attend in full micronational regalia.”

They discussed topics like “intermicronational trade,” or why micronations matter. It was held at the stately Anaheim Central Library, complete with “‘science-fair’ sized” displays.

But don’t worry, it wasn’t all debate and building diplomatic ties. Participants came together for “the Cotillion,” a formal / semi formal ball.

Sounds just like any other diplomatic gathering.

By: Eva Grant, GlobalPost

This article is syndicated from GlobalPost.