Nov 30, 2010

Agent Zero

Var and I were walking the dogs a few days ago when this woman drives by us in her Florida licensed sedan, and Var says “That woman looked exactly like... you know, that actress from the Golden Girls... Beatrice Arthur, Arthur Beatrice, what was her name?” I look at him and yell “Bea Arthur!” and then more quietly, “everyone called her Bea”.

Be Arthur?

Last week we saw Prince William Arthur Philip Louis (how many sun god names can we shoe horn in there?) announce his engagement to Kate (of course it’s Kate. It’s like the Importance of Being Ernest, only it’s important to be Katherine.) Already being called the “fairytale wedding”.

Last week I was also invited to a “round table” discussion on matters not related to homo-synchromysticism. I said "sure, as long as I can be Lancelot". My inviter emailed back: “may the best sword win”. :-) Also that week, there was another “round table” discussion of synchro-magicians, here. Meanwhile, I’m also reading ‘A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s Court’, which naturally includes time travel in the remix.

Everything is starting to take on a medieval, fairytale cast. I’ve been musing about Red Riding Hood because she (actually, "he" in this case) showed up at the Evolution Archives of homoerotic science/fantasy fiction last month. Boom, Red shows up big time on the Synch Whole. I figure Red riding the wolf = Scarlet Woman riding the Beast or Jake Scully riding the red dragon. All the same.

Along side all that live some really strong Z and ZZ synchs, which I take to mean the “dream time” or the awakening of the Dreaming Mind, or something along those lines. Also the aleph and the omega. And along side all that is the Zero. I’ve been drawn to Jzero, the character in Cat Steven’s Numbers:
The idea shaped into a fantastic, spiritual musical set on the planet Polygor. In the story, there is a castle with a number machine. This machine exists to fulfill the sole purpose of the planet: to disperse numbers to the rest of the universe—1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, and 9 (but notably, not 0). The nine inhabitants of Polygor, called "Polygons", are Monad, Dupey, Trezlar, Cubis, Qizlo, Hexidor, Septo, Octav, and Novim. As the last lines of the book say, they "followed a life of routine that had existed for as long as any could remember. ... It was, therefore, all the more shocking when on an ordinary day things first started to go wrong." The change takes the form of Jzero, who comes from nowhere as a slave and eventually confuses everybody with his simple truth.
Recall that Cat Stevens converted to Islam at the height of his fame in 1977 and changed his name to Yusuf Islam. And it was the Islamic Moors who re-introduced the concept of 0 or “no thing” back into Europe.

Today we were walking the dogs and they happened to be sniffing around a discarded bottle of Vitaminwater Zero. Which is touted as an “energy drink”, and perhaps all the crazy coffee + circumpunct synchs line up there too (and check out the Happy Creatures for this Starbucks, time warp synch). Caffeine is a source of energy, and as we all know, energy really IS king. Google zero + energy gives us zero point energy, aka the holy grail!

I suppose 911 was the modern “Dr. Manhattan Project” ritual, complete with a Ground Zero.

I’ve long considered that accessing zero point energy would be more of a psycho-sexual project than anything accomplished with ginormous machines. I mean, it would have to be, wouldn’t it? Can’t even get close unless you’re “turned on”. That’s why all the religions forbid sex except under strict guidelines and keep it all somehow tinged with guilt and fear. We’ve been told that God is love and he/she’s all powerful, so where’s the Power of Love? Let's go back to the future and ask Huey Lewis:

I have this idea for a novel that certain royals or the "elite"came into possession of a photograph from the future, like Marty McFly had in 1955, and in 1855. It’s a pic from the Undersea Dance, or ball, or wedding feast, and well... they're not there. Or maybe they are, but only as names upon tombstones. And they’ve been trying to make that picture not come true. As the date the snapshot was taken draws ever closer, they become ever more desperate. They instigate bio-scanning, tracking, chipping, 24-7 monitoring, using the "terrorist" canard as the excuse, but the real reason is that they're fucking terrified of what that little photograph means.

Scott Pilgrim is such a nobody

Makes me wonder. Maybe the Nine fear Agent Zero - the Power of Love made manifest. (Thanks to Eleleth at Kosmos Idikos for the pic). Lads, draw your blades...

Nov 26, 2010

Snooze Alarm

I guess it was all just a dream. Go back to sleep.

Nov 17, 2010

Dionysus Seeks a Pardon

Here’s a story that hits some Gosporn buttons:
Pardon Bid for Jim Morrison Relights Old Fires

It was a classic skirmish of the 1960s culture war, pitting a nonconformist rock star and his bohemian fans against clean-cut defenders of acceptable behavior, the counterculture against the mainstream, and Jim Morrison against Anita Bryant.

Now the governor of Florida says he will seek to put an end to it by pursuing a posthumous pardon for two criminal convictions that Morrison, the frontman for the Doors, received after some very bad behavior at a 1969 concert in Miami. --Dave Itzkoff, NYT
Morrisons “bad behavior” was simulating masturbation in front of the crowd and maybe or maybe not exposing himself on stage. There’s gonna be a lot of that kind of bad behavior going on next week at the White Party in Miami, except the perps will gets cheers, not jeers. I love that the forgiving gov’s name is Crist. With a pardon, the court chooses to "forget" your crime. Intentional amnesia.

Nov 16, 2010

No Doubt

Today has been, without a doubt, the second most bizarre day of my life. Synchronistic symbolic coincidence abounded to the point where I just had to stop counting. I was awake in the Dream, and I was the Dreamweaver. A feeling of subtle joy crept over me, as I watched events, signs and meaning shift in front of me and behind me as if I were a boat of Awareness plowing through a fog of causality. I witnessed many miracles today, but it took Varen to record just one.

We were walking in Kirkland, heading for a coffee shop on this blustery November day, and suddenly he grabs his iPhone in camera mode and walks up to this total stranger standing along side us, talking on his phone, to take some extremely close up pics! I was dumfounded! I exclaimed in by best Jar-Jar: “How rude!” and then.. “WTF?”

Var was practically vibrating with excitement. “He had a white iPhone 4!!! A WHITE IPHONE 4!!!”

OK, let me ask again, “WTF?” So Varen explains to me that white iPhone 4’s are rare an hen’s teeth. They’ve gone mythic, and are the subject of breathless “sightings”, around the world. A picture of a white iPhone will make headlines in the Mac press. It’s a one in a million thing, no.. one in a billion. They call it the geek equivalent of seeing a white unicorn.

As these thing always turn out, the photos are less than conclusive. From Yeti’s to UFO’s, the snapshots are always a bit blurry. But I feel cool about it. I was there. Like Thomas, I put my hand in the wound and I felt it. It was real. I’m a doubting Thomas no more.

Nov 11, 2010

In the Shop

I picked up Deepak Chopra’s 'Reinventing the Body, Resurrecting the Soul' today. Already I’m hooked and I’ve only read 10 pages! I've been a DC fan for decades, and lately I’ve come to realize that Dr. Chopra’s world view is a lot closer to Mark Twain (or Jeff Fairhall) than I thought. The only thing I don’t like about Deepak (and something I can’t personally fault him for) is that he’s become a powerful guru, and it is always fascinating how people raise up the ones who want to liberate us from all that hero worship. Buddha, Jesus, Lennon, He-Man, they all came to tell us “I am the power!” and we never figure out that I Am means me.

Anyway, this fabulously anarchistic poster (click the pic to read the fine print) came across my desk this morning, and I thought it worked pretty well for Deepak’s book too... a “how-to” manual on repairing the Soul. In fact, I'd agree with every single point, whether we're talking about the repair of a toaster oven, automobile, or the Self.

I like how the hand is carrying a big hex wrench, the “all purpose” tool for fixing things. I guess that’s my other issue with Deepak and much of the self-repair crowd. They leave out the instructions on how to use the most powerful and wonderful tool in our toolbox - Kundalini energy. I’d rather take my soul to Kake’s garage than Deepak’s. I've heard he's one hell of a mechanic. Kake looks like he has all the tools he needs, and he's not afraid to use them.

At You're Service, Sir.

By The Way: Today is 11/11 AKA Armistice Day. Armistice: an agreement made by opposing sides in a war to stop fighting for a certain time; a truce. A truce between my conscious and subconscious? Today has been a particularly pleasant and synchy day.

Nov 10, 2010

The Gold Standard

Newton, Moonlighting as an Alchemist

There was a fascinating article about Sir Isaac Newton by Natalie Angier published in the NYT on 10.11.10 (my birthday, btw). It took the typical modern, incredulous attitude: how could someone as smart as Newton be hoodwinked into attempting to transmute lead into gold? The article never dared to delve into the true purpose of alchemy or the occult symbolism woven through it, though the accompanying artwork dares more than the text.

This month, the Large Hadron Collider started banging lead ions together, and they succeeded in creating a “mini Big Bang” on 11.7.10, which is really much closer to the true purpose of alchemy. The scientists sounded as proud as new pops!
One of the accelerator’s experiments, ALICE, has been specifically designed to smash together lead ions, but the ATLAS and Compact Muon Solenoid (CMS) experiments have also switched to the new mode.

"We are thrilled with the achievement," said Dr Evans.
As well they should be. They converted matter (lead) into creation energy (gold). No wonder there’s a Shiva statue in the CERN sculpture garden. The LHC is an alchemical device.

Being newly initiated into meditation, I’ve been reading up at Lorin Roche’s site ‘Instinctive Meditation’ and came upon this fabulous page all about phallus worship and the homo sex going on within Indian monasteries:
Steven continued, "And it's amazing to really feel worshipped. Those people know how to adore a cock. And how to savor a sensation. First of all, they think my cock is huge, even though it's not, by American standards. And no one has ever given me a blow job like those monks. They pay the same total attention to sucking cock as they do to meditation. There is no hurrying, that's the great thing. You are trying to be quiet and trying to prolong it as long as you can, which of course makes you hornier and ready to burst, but you want it to last because the sensations are so intense and you have spent the entire day savoring electricity. They worship you as a god. They do sex as a form of puja, a worship of the life force. They know something we don't, in this culture."
"In some temples, they have a stone phallus as an altar, and they pour BUTTER over it and chant to it as the symbol of God. It's called a Shiva lingam. It's the most beautiful, hypnotic ceremony I have ever seen."

To the Indian monks, the Force is phallic energy. Gold. Or maybe butter.

Butter reminds me of Little Black Sambo; the Tamil lad who turns tigers into butter. Or in other words, the “lead” or “Nigredo” who churned his tiger energy (the sexual energy of his lower chakras) into gold.

The American Express sponsored ad for Conan’s comeback (with the flaming hare) reminded me that AE invented the gold card, and that member ship does indeed have its privileges.

Nov 8, 2010

Bow WoW

Apparently Richard Hoagland thinks the Hartley “comet” is actually a “Rendezvous With Rama” type alien spacecraft, and the Secret Sun connects all the semiotic dots with Obama’s current trip (pilgrimage) to India and his own personal rendezvous with Rama. Like the Queen of Sheba visiting the court of Solomon, he arrives with impressive gifts. Yesterday was 11/7/10, so some interesting 17’s encoded within, both coming and going.

Rama is the Indian Hercules/Horus/John the Baptist figure. Speaking of John, or Oannes, the mermen from Sirius, Varen had a vivid dream the morning of Nov. 7 (and yes, I’ve been chastised in the past for using Varen’s dreams as gosporn fodder but suck it. This one is just too good).
Var was shopping in a store in a cool city in the future (a common dream for him) when suddenly he was sort of sucked into another place or dimension (not so common). It was as if he was in a water-like fluid and he heard a voice telepathically tell him “Don’t be afraid of the way I look, I have no eyes and no muscles”. So he turned to look and saw a translucent entity floating next to him that he described as sort of like a jellyfish. They had a short conversation. Then he was exited from the fluid dimension, back into his dream, and from there quickly awoke.

Oannes was said to be hideous in appearance, and I’d say a big, telepathic jellyfish would qualify. I flashed on the Guild Navigators from Dune, and then I read all the amazing info at Secret Sun. Hartley’s comet is described as “peanut-shaped”, which just reminds me of Snoopy, who is a dog star.

But to me, the comet is just another 3D bow tie, and Sirius is in the galactic "neighborhood" of the “bow tie” shaped constellation of Orion. Here’s the  red bow tie wearing, know-it-all, time traveling dog - Mr. Peabody, of the Bullwinkle Show.

I casually googled “Boeing, Hercules”, recalling that the Boeing C-17 (No. 44's "gift") was a big “heavy-lifter” type aircraft and I got this Youtube video from 3/3/07 called “Boeing, Hercules, Orion” that features the Top Gun Anthem, synching in Tom Cruise for a Scientology flyby.

After that, I nearly missed the 11/7 ad at the top of Youtube: Conan O'Brian, sporting a bow tie, being completely Sirius, with his hair on fire! The Id, doing whatever it takes...

From a "A Fiery Birth" at the Synch Whole.

Addendum 11/9: via Mythulinity. (flaming skull tat) Woof!

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