Posts Tagged ‘synchronicity’


Friday, June 17th, 2011

Doesn't Show / Give it Time

I knew the storm was getting closer
And all my friends said I was high
But everything we’ve ever known’s here
I never wanted it to die

Couldn’t Have Had Music Week w/o The Red Rabbit Himself

So Thanks, Axl.

Next Week: Music Week

The Robot With The Monkey’s Head.

Monday, June 13th, 2011

Hot Tub Time Machine

Blue Times Two

So, how does this work?
Davos Klosters Weekend

It's On Like Donkey Kong

This is the attempt, you see, to put into words what has happened since the trip to the mountains; that strange couple of days at The Thinny; Three Peaks, Seven Beers and a Single Cloud.

Thermal Baths – a trip to The Source.

The H-/-Bridge.

A French Woman speaking of Russian Saunas. An Italian Man and all things connecting through music.

Marilyn Monroe. Donkey Kong, and Writing on The Wall.

A moment in the water.

And Punk Bands. And that other kid with a Bad Hand.

Signs, signs everywhere. It is these that need explaining. Not the newspapers, or the conspiracies. Not anymore. We can only change that which we have the power to change – in this case, that’s my existence. So, in order to change; we need to understand what will be changing.

The Disaster March

The Disaster March

So – another trip. This time The Jaunt takes us to 2002, to Hoxton Square in Wet November. East London. The walk home from work is dimly lit and puddles are everywhere. Grey water, filthy slurry running every which way through dark gutters, alleyways and thoroughfares. All the same, up and down, left and right. Black Cabs splash up waves, and Red Buses careen through bends on precarious rails, windows steamed up hiding bored faces. Behind, further back but not fading, drenched in comparative floodlight in fact, stand places of work – quite simply; Towers of Commerce.

Steel and Glass spiderwebs of Broadgate blot out the natural light at this point in the path away from the office, as if to say:

even if the rain would stop and the sun would shine, you won’t be feeling it.

A pair of sneakered feet submerge at random places in the cracks and holes of Curtain Road. White cords swaying in the orange-black mist pump a circulatory tonic through a tired system. Suit Trouser cuffs suck up fetid muck then lap at exposed skin like beaten dogs. More traffic, more waves. Roadworks ahead, always roadworks ahead. Bob and weave. Cops in cars, the topless bars. Splish, splash. A new track crackles in the ears as shoulders dip, legs swerve out into the road, punters at the Barley Mow spilling out a drunken sea of haircuts and tshirts, Tropical London. More steam, more bodies. A vacation in the future will remind me; Cuban Officials fumigating The Van during torrential rain in Matanzas, seven pairs of flip-flops under four inches of streetwater and we pass a bottle of rum, laughing, dancing yelling and screaming at the aliveness of it all.

But we’re not in Cuba yet, this is London, 2002. It’s November. It’s 9pm and everything is soaked. Steamheat.

This isn’t alive – this is The Dengue.

Almost home, coming up to The Square now. Cut it up through the park, watch the shit and the mud and the caps and the bottles. Turn past the Kung-Fu Place.

Arrive at the corner, and a guitar scrapes, metal veins strumming, tendons jangling together into a crescendo as its twin kicks in, same then for the drum. And then a rasping.

Cuts into my mind – a jagged red opening slashing bright murder across that blanket of dull grey. Keys feel sharp and edgy in wet fingers that aren’t mine.

Day One has just begun,
I’m burnt, broken, dazed and numb.
Beginnings feel more like ends.
Friends feel less and less like friends.
Shake, shake, shake, shake off
another dumb mistake,
I’m stupider than you.
You can see it in my face…

Turn the key, stamp the feet and enter. Fall through the corridor. White walls, fluorescents. Push the lift button.

"Presenting The Dancing Machine [Il Robot Con La Testa Di Scimmia]"

reads the LED on the chunky mp3 player. The Lawrence Arms, it says. 1 minute, 27 seconds, it says.

Inside the walls now, locked down for the night, and the CD has a guy in a Hot Tub on the cover. Justin Sane takes a break; into the cradle Fat Music goes, and the jacket gets dumped on the floor. The volume knob is twisted.

Two small, cold wet fists are made.

Next: The Disaster March

Aah yes, The Disaster March.

King Skin & The Lawrence Arms

King Skin & The Lawrence Arms, 2004

I remember. Fast forward – a couple of blurry years later.

You’ll find us Down in the Basement.

Camden Underworld.

April 2004.

Another burst of energy spikes on a static timeline of steady progress. The salary has increased but the information hasn’t changed. Lost in the confusion of the crowd, things are missed. Bright Lights shout out from all corners of the perception, yet none are registered. Just one light, a red light, remains.

It is flashing and it says NO FUTURE without making a sound.

That night I wore a Jackson T-Shirt to the show.

Later, I wore an orange Suicide King TLA T-Shirt and met a hero, drunken, covered in sweat.

Suicide Kings, you say?

Seems the Red Phoenix / Rebel Alliance tattoo way back when really meant something, after all.

Next: Inter Blues

Did you know "Polar Bear" works out to twoninenine in Jewish Gematria?

Me either.

How about that "Sea" equates to ninetysix?

Yet, we’re clearly getting a-head of ourselves.

It Stinks of My Old Memories.

Trying to Keep it Simple.

Back to 2011, briefly then.

The Thermal Baths! Water world discovered at Bad Ragaz on DK Weekend.

On The Tenth, The French Woman in the Ice Shower after the Intense Heat Fusion at the Sauna (x3).

Contact made, although neither understood the other; two naked people making gestures and shivering. A finality; the words Bagne Russe are repeated until I nod.

It sinks in and she leaves.

Russian Saunas, indeed. We drive home, excited, although much is forgotten, and time rolls on.

Spain Happens. The Beam is sometimes on view.

More Eventfulness.

More Water.

Transoceanic Connections.

Later, some time in Mid May, the Polar Bear arrives.

As if further confirmation is required that things are running silent, running deep.

Red Dawn

Water Gate

Vigilante Side Kick

Kansas City is underwater, and Lost is not the word.

So what the fuck is going on?

Well, it doesn’t really matter. What matters is that you see the pattern. That you dive in.

That you let go.

Stepping back onto The Dock, you realize The Layer Cake for what it is; a mountain to climb.

First, there is a mountain.

Then there is no mountain.

Then there is.


And so of course we must turn our mind towards The Ocean. To Big Fish in The Dirty Sea – and there’s nuthin’ under ninety-six pounds swimmin’ around down there, either.

Whole Truth: we’re heading into Beastly Realms. The Unknown. The Depths. Davy Jones’ Locker. That said, however, with a light in your heart and a dip in your hip, The Slip can actually be quite The Trip.

Point of No Return

Final Call for Passengers...

Away We Go!

Next: The Outlaw Jose Wales

Flight 666

Ladies & Gentlemen, This is your Captain Speaking...

The In-Flight Entertrainment System is a little fuzzy due to the altitude we’re currently maintaining, and I lost my Laptop on the Outbound leg.

Suddenly the seat in front shakes, clatters and a tall, manicured fashionisto is making a big deal about switching seats from the row next to me to the row directly in front. He flaps his hands, shaking his head, sunglasses precarious on top of thinning hairline, magazine waving as he messes with the seatbelt and informs his new neighbours of Personal Hygiene issues, occasionally jerking his head back and glaring at a perplexed looking man in his late fifties wearing a plaid shirt sitting alone now by the window.

I move over to join him. My row sucked anyway. No elbow room. Our mysterious friend looks fine. He’s got an open, cracked face and a beard. His shirt is wide at the throat and he is sunburned. He smiles with his eyes and nods to the empty seat; I motion to the beautiful sunset occurring outside at whatever-thousand feet. We smile. The Drinks Cart arrives and my new friend orders red wine, I inform the Stew of my intention not to eat on this flight, but to drink, and therefore the necessity for not one but two little bottles of Jim Beam and a coke. She laughs and touches my shoulder. It feels nice.

It’s May 2011 and the plane crosses the ocean.

We drift.

Motion Sleepness (Elements of Sonic Defiance)


Feed Your Head. Remember the MTV commercial?

The Langoliers was published in September 1990 by Stephen King as part of a collection. A few passengers on a red-eye flight from L.A. to Boston hit the hay shortly after take-off; following initial catastrophe and seemingly insurmountable struggle they find themselves in a strange place, devoid of sensory input; only much later are they to learn of alternate realities and rips in the fabric of Space-Time.

Dirty Black Summer

Dirty Black Summer

Stephen King has been on my mind quite a lot these days. His work shaped my childhood; it only follows then, that during reverie he appears so often. It was no surprise that whilst in Spain The Gunslinger began singing to me.

Scary Books.

My number in St Aubyns was 96. I was what? Eight years old? Every child gets a number.

Mine was 96.

I graduated High School in 1996.

I was 17. September Kids.

The Administration were against this, as I took popular stories / films and re-wrote them as my own for Senior Essay. As if this somehow does not show aptitude in a Curriculum of Lies. AISZ.

Artificial Intelligence School, Zurich.

Senor Esse, Holmes.

One of the stories I borrowed was The Gunslinger. My teacher, Mrs Rhodes, picked up on it naturally but she was cool. The rest not so. This of course doesn’t matter a jot – it does however bring us nicely to Cort, and The Gallows.

So Fuckin Cold, So Fuckin Dark.

Here’s the official video for Gallows’ sonic ghost train that is In the Belly of a Shark. One of many excellent tracks released on the September 25, 2006, Orchestra of Wolves.

The video we just watched above was

" Shot at the underworld in camden in december 06 "

Wait…what? Camden Underworld, again?

Yes, of course – but forget that for now, what’s up with Gallows?

And those sharks. Again.

The moment in The Gunslinger in which boys of the realm are to become men; a rite of passage during which authority must be bested in order to advance. Young Adventurer Roland combines brain with brawn to overcome as David The Hawk is unleashed.

Teacher Cort gives up his vision and Roland earns his guns. Boy plus Weapon versus Aged Warrior.

David versus Goliath, the One-Eyed Giant.


Weeks before, the boys witness the execution by hanging of an old friend; implicated and his death warrant sealed by their testimony as witnesses to The Treachery of Hax The Cook.

It is at The Gallows that they see the world in a slightly different light.

Another rite, of sorts; this transition in a place of death.

A teenage snub to the grimmest of the grim, the Man In Black.

Looking that sumbitch straight in the eye and hoping against hope that shaky knees continue to hold.

Baby Take My Hand

Jahneeda Hand Bro?

Jahneeda Hand Bro?

Jeepers Creepers.

So what does one scary book have to do with another?

Uh, also, what’s like, The Superflu got to do with um, The Sea?

Not too much, on the surface of things.

But what if we were to skip stone-like across that surface to another time, another place, and another scary book, written by an Englishman called James Herbert?

The Jonah was written in 1981.

Three years old at the time of publication, we have yet to read this piece.

In School, in the nineties, I would often receive books by this author as gifts as we share the same name. The Rats, The Fog, The Magic Cottage – those I dimly recall.

The fact remains, however, that The Jonah has a gigantic hand on the cover.

That’s " whoa! weird…" you see, because I broke my hand in a place called Newquay on a Stag Weekend Surf Trip. It was a Skate Boarding accident. On a surf trip? Yes, on a surf trip. There was Paint Balling too.

It’s 2005, at a guess. Alcohol is involved – with it the distinct lack of fear and at the time we are bombing the hill at 3AM outside the Boarding House on a borrowed skateboard. Someone is on a BMX. One thing leads to another when you’re an idiot and soon a wrist gets broke. Later, perhaps too much later, four weeks later, back in London it still feels more than a sprain and soon it gets looked at.

Faces made by Doctors like they’re kicking tires on a car. Private Health Insurance supplied as standard by Towers of Commerce. Doctors paying more attention now. No waiting, straight through to St John’s Wood. Room with a View.

Avascular Necrosis of The Scaphoid.

Bone looks like a peanut, except one end is cracked open; empty, dead.

General Anaesthesia. She counts backwards and a needle pierces the skin at 9, we’re closing the eyes around 3.

Metal is inserted and it goes by the name of The Herbert Screw – luckily invented in 1978.

Happy Birthday, got you a New Key, hope you like it.


A Key.

To a Cage?

Down, down, deeper and down.

Okay. So it’s a Belly of the Beast type deal then is it?

It always was.

In the world of Pyramid Schemes, the hierarchy is the Food Chain. Natural Selection becomes a Sport; rewards in this so-called Life are attained through carnivorous action. The thing is; those at the top forget that sooner or later, given enough strife, those at the bottom will begin to bite the Hand that Feeds.

It’s just a question of how much you’re willing to take.

Whale of a Time


Continues Soon

We got The Hammer.

Risen Up.


Stop the Tape.

Rewind, not yet.

Too Soon?

We’re Dark and We’re Cold and We’re Soaked to the Bone.

Lights Above, but not yet.

H in The Sea.

Aah. Stop The Tape.


Your Sins Into Me

Murder In The Bathroom

Murder In The Bathroom

No, wait, go forward. 2008.

Back in Switzerland now. A Bar in Zurich called The Hafenkneipe. A Leaving Party? Ka is going to Ireland, maybe?

No, not yet. That’s Soon.

Now it is my birthday. Eric too. Debbie, as well. Drunk as Skunks. Stumbling towards the Bathroom. Wearing a T-Shirt that says


That is True. People are Smiling. Crowded in here and the Music is Good. Elbows touch and people turn around to smile again. Lots of smiling, lots of hands on backs, slaps and winks from these beautiful strangers and it’s slow progress. Get to the Bathroom, finally. See the writing on the wall.

Stand for a moment. Fish out the new iPhone 3 and take a snap.

Snap snap snap. We don’t know why, but we do.

Fall back out into the Ocean of Kids and see Alex G, who monkeys around with a can of beer.

Ever Get Teh Feeling...

Ever Get Teh Feeling...

Dirty Face To Wear The Scars

Life continues to flash by in a series of increasingly vague activities. Submerged.

Opaque, as if through a Mask.

In the Washing Machine, tumbling and spinning beneath the surface, each cycle offering less opportunity for breath. Surf Trips to Newquay. Surf Trips to Rhode Island.

Flip Flop.

Crack Shack.

Flip you like a Sleepy Blue Jeep outside Paris.

Captain Trips, Night Surf and Watery Endings.

Running from place to place, all the while Gettin’ Worked.

Running From…or To?


Oh Snap.

Arm Yourself

The Long Walk.

Bathroom Stalls and Sunny Beaches.

Glad To See It End.

Colours fade as light washes out of the day.

At dusk it looks mighty dim,
As the lights fire up the beach
I don’t feel much like a swim,
’cause I’m afraid of the dirty sea

Sandy Toes. Empty Inside.

Years unknown, unimportant. Backgrounded.

Stuck. Looping. Metal Cassette will not run out of tape. Constant Spool.

Stuck Here, in the Belly of this Whale of a Thing.


Reel Big Fish.

Out of Water.

Unsinkable. Even in a Smashing Context.

And so, we see even the smallest of sideways glances will hint at something more.

Something Beautiful.

Something Hideous.

Hit it!

Designated Driver.

Cause Sometimes…

…Truly Does…

Feel Like Something Good is going to Happen.

A little further…

Down This Road.

Shall We Dance? Or Maybe Just Limp Around?

Further, further down as we tumble.

Caged Light deep under water. Manic Street Preachers on The Corner but still no one is listening – maybe.

The Devil’s Takin’ Names and The Question is Simple:

Are you a Reactor, or a Creator?


Time Splits a Man.

Sleep Walker -/- Indian Runner – which is it to be?

Flip, flop. Night Surf. Down we go.


Sometimes I ask myself, what would Gary Busey do?

He would say, Utah, Get me Two.

Time to Paddle Out.

Duck Dive.


The Mares of Diomedes snap at our heels, and we don’t know what year this is, we just know breathing is difficult and there is shit in our eyes.

Pints of Guinness Make You Strong.


Down you go.


Dead by dreaming, sleep you steal, mine
Pools of cold sweat
Hatred burns me

Down you go, suffer long
Down you go, sin make me strong
Down you go, suffer long
Down you go, sin make me strong

Still shackled to the shadow

Drop The Anger



Fade to Black.

And we’re floating.

Forget All The Promises.

Reach Out and Touch Rock Bottom.

A cold chill of fear cut through me
I felt my heart contract
To my mind I brought the image of light
And I expanded out of it
My fear was just a shadow
And then a voice spoke in my head
And she said dark is not the opposite of light
It’s the absence of light
And I thought to myself
She knows what she’s talking about
And for a moment I know
What it’s all about.


There Is A Ghost In Your Machine.

Halogens. Fluorescent.

Bring in the LED!

Wet Work.

I think we should lose the arm. What do you think, Johnson?

You heard The Man.


*wake up*

I Want To Be There When You Find Out.

More Needles?

Shed Some Skin.


More Drilling.

Limbo: Not So Bad.

You can sit there all day just watching The Crabs March.

Be Here.

Flip the Station.

Change Channel.

Looks like I picked the wrong day to quit huffin’ gas.

Walking Down The Street Like We Was In a Spike Lee Joint.

That’s it. One Foot.

In Front of –

The Other.

Shake shake shake shake off
another dumb mistake

That’s it.

It's a Beautiful Day, You'll Find a Way


Flags unfurl!

It’s In The Wind – you see – that the Surface is Broken.

Anger's A Way

Lungs draw gargantuan breath in one long, heaving splutter as we step up on The Dock. Clothes Soaked. Hanging Heavy.

Yet we feel light as a feather.

The air is electric. It’s 3AM and all the stars are shining.

Constellations encrusted as Diamonds across a black ocean above. Flip flops lost to the deep. Along with a little black monolith that came along for the ride in the pocket of our Camo Shorts. Strangers are approached happily in the street, halogen lamp keeps us warm. Radio Head and a Shivering Heart.

Questions are asked; answers happily given. Looks are exchanged.

It is Thorsday, May 26th, 2011.

Bed down on someone else’s floor. A smoke is shared between three different people from three different lands.

Masks on The Wall as we laugh ourselves to sleep.

Final Approach.

Oh Snizzzz-ap!

Anger is a Gift.

Thursday, June 9th, 2011

Green Fields.

Today feels like a 9/11 of sorts.

Ice is Cold.

Protest Songs for Peace.

News From The Flood – # 2 Silver Cords of Oz

Friday, March 11th, 2011

Silver Cars. Silver Cords.

Beware the Ides of March.

Somewhere, amidst this destruction, is a clear message.

During times like these we must turn inwards, away from the recycled talking heads of the media.

We as people know in our hearts precisely what has happened.

Now, it is up to us to reflect inwardly.


Hearts in Atlantis, Next Stop: Topeka

Hearts in Atlantis, Next Stop: Topeka


And If You Know Your History...

And If You Know Your History...

UPDATE 12/3/11 @ 09:37

Things are beginning to take shape and the trend is speaking for itself. Over the last week or so, the harmonised have been focusing on All Things Acquatic as Watery Pisces affects us and our planet this 2011.

In line with oceanic thinking, I posted a surf-themed ramble about that Punk Band from Santa Cruz and their uplifting Pisces (Almost Home), on Thursday, 10th March.

Looks like we need some uplifting this weekend, so go ahead and listen again.

A thick, rich constant runs right through the heart of the sync lately; Ego is melting, just like our polar ice caps. The Iceman came, and now finally takes his long overdue leave, pushed on his way by the loving, sacred feminine and her wisdom.

With him leaves this cold, isolated way of life we have been living. Next comes the warmth.

It is truly difficult to ask people to stay positive, keep a pure heart and a loving outlook with so much tragedy blaring out like a relentless Storm Warning in a lifetime of bad weather. Be advised though, it is easier when you accept

" Life’s Rich Tapestry "

means exactly that. A long-held pattern governs our cyclical existence, and it’s high time we paid attention to it.

Stephen King. Crimson King. Sea King. CK.

C = 3 & K = 11.

March 11th.


Love ,


News From The Flood – # 1 Pisces (Almost Home)

Thursday, March 10th, 2011

Firstly, may we please invite you to enjoy Good Riddance, performing their final show in Santa Cruz on May 27, 2007.

Is it even necessary to start typing

"this punk band hits us like no other, words cannot begin to express how"

or can we skip straight to the good stuff?

Hell Yes! Play Now!

Surf's Up, Precious Beings!

Well, that was inspiring.

Makes you want to rise, Phoenix-like, from the flames of the last few thousand years, doesn’t it? Well, be careful what you wish for, cause listen up Dorothy – you ain’t in Kansas anymore.

The past couple of days have been spent skipping happily down a sun-dappled, radiant childhood path of musical reverie. An activity that not only comes highly recommended, but also bestows incredibly therapeutic, fuzzy effects upon any given day. You’ll be surprised how many times you laugh out loud, just by hearing a song you last loved when you were a kid.

There we were, chatting away.

Remembering the heady, adventurous mix tapes we used to piece together. Mix Tapes that would combine the metal mastery of Anthrax with the irreverent, shocking truth of NWA. Remembering the sing-a-long as we dropped science, drum solos and ’nuff Twelve-year-old ‘Tude on that class trip to France, eons ago.

Remembering that it was free and happy and fun and we had no fear and it was pure bliss.

Pure Bliss.

Elvis, JFK, Time Travel, Punk Bands.  Just Be.

Elvis, JFK, Time Travel, Punk Bands. Just Be.

So anyway, the reverie is ongoing and will support a larger, deeper article covering Punk Bands that will appear when it appears. Alice In Chains are included in the research, and we saw the beautiful Mike C Starr finally move on to better pastures this week. Remarkably, following a typographical error on Twitter, we noted that our Dead Bassist entrained with recent Stephen King chatter, via the album Jar of Flies, and the reincarnated Jake Chambers.

Then we had Starman Ziggy showing up, again in New York City, on a pretty resonant day, media-wise.

This morning we see they are fleshing out articles on Grunge, Punk Rock, anything alternative. With revolution in mind, it’s clear what the kids are going to be asking for. Makes sense the NEWS is gearing up to sell.

How wonderful then, that this life is so layered; indeed, Many a secret Message has been found within other, seemingly superfluous Messages.

So, what, Dear Reader, are we to make of today’s hectic action? Pay special attention to times and dates in all links. If you want our heartfelt reaction, the swells are certainly battering the reef out there; simply a matter of time before She moves in toward the Beach.

We’re making a list:

  • board shorts
  • radio
  • mj
  • inner tube


Thaar be a storm blowin’ me <3-ties!

With so much love,


[note – click images / for twitpic plus synchronicity commentaries]

Live Sync # 8 : Energy = MotorCycle Squared

Sunday, February 27th, 2011

The mind hops from connection to connection, constantly flipping through the Rolodex of mentally stored symbols and their significance.

The beauty of synchronicity – it’s everywhere; prepare accordingly.

We are realising that sync, although always there and always available for anyone to “tap it” , manifests itself specifically to the person investigating through subtle personal references directly relevant to that person, the syncee.

The key seems to be finding the connections between all of these personal syncs happening to all of these real people across our planet, everyday. For such personal flags are the common ground; the little winks that yearn to draw our attention to the bigger picture, to pull us into the NOW.

The Moon, as shown previously in these pages, acts as an extremely strong anchor that can enable a sojourn in the Waters of Now. This beautiful mirror in the sky reflects our every wish, expanding our dreams into an infinite series of images to be played out on the calm lagoon below.

The Moon, without whom our nights would be truly blanketed in darkness.

Bark At The Moon

Isis & Diana are mythologically linked to our Moon

Now, Moon, she is a highly resonant symbol. We’ve already seen how Lunar connotations can be linked to Isis, the Goddess of Motherhood, Magic & Fertility.

We also know that the number 27 is linked to our nocturnal pathfinder, too. There’s a lot more to her than just a few holes and a conspiracy theory. In the twitterverse, the Moon makes regular appearances.

So much so, that recently, we just can’t get her out of our head. caught my attention with some insightful syncs recently.

Moon / NOW / NWO / OWN

Just another Day on Twitter

Now, this guy has also been focusing a lot on Jack Black of late.

One of my first tractor-beams into synchronicity was a screening of the film King Kong on Swiss TV back on December 31st, 2010. I was new to this upper layer of meaning to life, and everything was incredible. I still am and it still is. The day after the movie, on January 1st, 2011, I watched the first UFC event of 2011.

About an hour later I had posted my first Pop Culture Sync, an initial foray into the difficult realm of explaining the unexplainable. I remember the sweaty palms and the tingly spine. For want of a better phrase, I was trippin’ balls.

Note, if you please, the reference by the fight callers to King Kong, as well as the Eclipse / Moon synchronicity. It’s most definitely there. A couple of days later, and I get a crazy Alice In Wonderland sync on the name Jack, which I later learn is also highly resonant itself – linked amongst other things to the Planet Jupiter and the Roman God Boss, Zeus.

and the rest of the sync-wholers have acted largely as educators for me through their various blog posts on synchronicity. Whenever a new post drops, I’m on there checking their incredible insights and POP Syncs. Usually, finding a link from something they have written or created in a video to something I have personally noted is not difficult.

Flow is easy, once you let it, remember?

We’ve never met – we live an ocean apart – but boy, it’s there, alright. Holy Cow!

2010 Tiger Timing

The Strawberry is my NOW Resonator

Way back at the beginning, I enjoyed a post on Jupiter, Liver and Strawberries, by .

I remember the zen-based Tiger / Strawberry tattoo I started in 2008 and quickly puked out a comment containing a link to a twitpic upload of my ink. I’m amazed.

Remember, I don’t know these guys from Adam.

That was 72 days ago Today, Sunday, February 27th, 2011.

No surprise then, that the tattoo syncs continued. Paradise Kitty arrives, surfin’ in on a wave of sync last Moonday, February 21 st, 2011.

Little Kitty-Kat in the Mouth of a Shark.

Sighing, I pushed out my chair – again.

Rolled up my sleeve – again, got the camera out – again.

Snap snap!

So we’ve got my tattoos linking with a blog article posted on a computer on the other side of the Atlantic.

Twice, once through the Strawberry and then a second via the Sharks. Then of course there’s the Tiger connection.

Anyway, I’m getting swamped in sync and it’s time to swiftly move on. Before I do, though, let me reiterate: Paradise Kitty is another great blog article and I suggest you go peace in to it. Check the other posts and videos too – you’ll probably realise you’re wearing the same pullover as Jude Law whilst you watch.

The Sync Whole is that good!

More in three hours. Worth the wait, I promise.

Later is here. Where were we?

Aah yes, the synchromystic g8ors and their articles. Another recent post involving the 1980s (very much in tune with current fashions and trends in 2011) entitled Bad Exodus contained a reference to Jack Black, in line with recent tweeting, through the film Year One.

Intrigued, I downloaded to watch this past Friday.

jack black enlightened everyman

The Fiery Apple of True Wisdom

I won’t write a synchromystic film review here (g8ors do it better), but I’ll share the purely symbolic moments in terms of the flow here on the Weekend of the 27th.

After watching the movie, resolutely relaxed and flip-flopping down the River of Mind, I remembered the scene in which Jack Black goes against the grain and eats of the Fruit of Forbidden Knowledge.

For no reason whatsoever, I type "jack black heat" into google, remembering the crescendo of the film in front of fiery sacrificial flames. Happily, we Have some Hits!

check the posting date, the comments - synctastic!

Heat Vision & Jack - Best Show To Never Be

Turns out, back in dusty old 1999, JB collaborated with Ben Stiller for a pilot. The series in question?

Heat Vision & Jack.

Oh, Eye see!

I see something else, too. Also starring Ron Silver. Now we all know by now that Planets and Metals go together like Fish and Water, and interestingly the atomic weight of Silver is 47, or DG. Awesome. Time for a YouTube Visit.

Unbelievably, the first link I find was posted on September 11th, 2010 – immediately resonating earlier tweets on Now Nodes.

I sit back to watch Heat Vision & Jack – why don’t you do the same, before you read on?

Wikipedia says about this project:

"According to a March 27, 2007 interview with Rob Schrab, a script for the Heat Vision and Jack feature film is in the works."

Note: to skip the BS intro, scan the vid forward to 1:11.

Jack Black, Heat Vision and Jack, Awesome Show

Eye Know Everything-g-g!

The symbolism starts pretty much immediately. During the opening credits, we learn that Jack Black stars as Jack Austin, a parody of Steve Austin, the Six Million Dollar Man, a television series which ended in 1978.

JB is an Astronaut who got too close to the sun, resulting in a freak mutation affecting his brain.

Solar Powered, JB roars "I KNOW EVERYTHING-G-G" first thing every morning.

You see, his "brain is like Cookie Dough; it expands as the sun rises" as if it were being "baked" in an oven.

He informs us that when fully charged, he is "three times smarter than the smartest guy in the world". Alas, the night is his enemy, turning him back into a run-of-the-mill astronaut who can’t string a sentence together. It’s a ridiculous premise wonderfully executed by Jack Black – I was laughing my ass off during all three clips. The key is they got the cheesy 70s action TV show down pat. The acting is hammy and the plot is bullshit. Perfect! You’ll laugh, I promise.

In this Pilot Episode of Heat Vision & Jack, a small town finds itself terrorised by an entity known only as Paragon, an evil Space Being that has possessed the short order cook at the town diner. The cook is played by Mr 42 Himself, Ghost’s Vincent Schiavelli. His first victim is killed whilst Third Eye Blind plays on the jukebox.

Christine Taylor Holds The Phone

CT points Jupiter Finger, says NASA

Later, we find our hero JB languishing in a jail cell, unable to convince the local sheriff that he ain’t had nothing to do with no murders in town. Found at the scene by the cops; although we know he was just investigating the crime scene at the diner with his ex-roommate-now-sidekick-and-somehow-motorcycle, Heat Vision, voiced by Owen Wilson.

The Sheriff, played by Stiller’s wife, Christine Taylor, doesn’t buy Austin’s story and threatens to call his employers at NASA, telephone in hand. This is met with immediate protests and stories of The Actor Ron Silver, contracted by NASA to track down our dynamic duo and put an end to their adventures.

As the night rolls on, the Sheriff has gone out to look for clues, warning our unintelligent astronaut that if he tries to escape, the station mutt, Gary, will have him for dinner. We cut to a shot of a hungry-looking German Shepherd.

Gary the Dog. GD / 74.

Later still, and we are treated to The Actor Ron Silver’s arrival at the Motel crime scene, where he immediately takes charge of the situation.

Heat Vision and Jack Part 2

Hey! Thats My Bike!

Our Sheriff is not 100% convinced that Ron is a good guy; whilst the County Coroner is absolutely starstruck. He asserts:

“I just rented Timecop. You were a BA-A-A-D guy in Timecop!”

B-A-D = 2-1-4.

Meanwhile, across town at the station, JB is gripping the barred window on his cell, willing the Sun to rise.


Jack Austin cries, conscious of his powerlessness – and with The Actor Ron Silver on the way to collect, time is seemingly running out.

Break Down Symbols To Reveal Treasure

Thankfully, the Sun indeed rises and JB is once more transformed into The Smartest Man In The World 3. The metamorphosis of eX-PAN-sion is complete as he proclaims:


Our hero then brainstorms and figures a way out of his cell – circumventing the Gary the Dog situation expertly.

He is now reunited with his trusty steed, Heat Vision.

At 4 minutes 21 seconds of the video, the shot opens to our favourite Motorcycle parked outside a Gas station. There is a large X on the door, a powerful symbol resonating the God Boss, Zeus, who we know is also Jupiter. X is the 24th letter of the alphabet, and almost always marks the spot, in terms of synchronicity.

Back to the video. Space Being Paragon appears at the Gas Station, his green eyes firmly fixed on the motorcycle parked out front. Most probably due to the kind of sixth-sense psychic ability only roommates enjoy, JB, presently holed up inside, feels a disturbance in the force.

He makes a dash outside, yelling as he busts his way through the big yellow X. This line alludes to Reality Bites, starring Ethan Hawke.

Hawke’s character is a member of the band, Hey! That’s My Bike in the 90s film also starring Ben Stiller.

A scuffle with Paragon ensues, and JB goes down at the might of the entity’s envious green laser eyes. The Space Being is unstoppable as he saps Austin’s solar energy, just as cold as ice.

As our heroes find themselves temporarily bested, they must retreat to a safe place. This safe place turns out to be the house owned by our Sheriff’s grandmother, or ‘Nana, as they say in the North of England. It is here, Nana’s Home, where all is sunny, happy and peaceful. The gang are able to rest up and it is during this brief moment of respite that Jack shows the Sheriff his Silver Bullet.

We head now to a final battle at The Sunken Pleasure, a Pirate-themed Lap Dancing club replete with Starfish on the walls and a lime-green, mustachioed Ben Stiller as DJ.

It’s abject pandemonium as Jack Black fights Paragon, and appears to be losing to the stronger Space Being. We don’t need to worry however, as this is the The Smartest Man In The World 3.

Be Kind, Re-wind

Be Kind, Press Recoooord!

As the DJ alerts our hero to the fact that we have a "Looooose Poooooole!", JB is struck by a real Lightning Bolt of an idea.
Jupiter finger reminds us to just Be

Synchroverse - The Be-Side of Life

By combining the theories of magnetism with the raw power of sonic energy, JB realises he can finish this week’s episode right here, right now. Grabbing hold of the loose lapdancing pole, he points it at the oncoming Paragon.

Siezing the moment at 4 minutes and 12 seconds of the 3rd clip. JB is ready to rock, instructing Pirate Radio DJ Ben Stiller to:


Stiller obliges, Jupiter Finger on the button – and thus at the same time reminding us, the viewer, what it’s really all about.

Symbolically speaking, the boys apply the truth through love; by B-ing Kind they realise they can conquer anything.

That fear is nothing when looked upon with Eyes of Love.

So in true Ghostbusters style, JB & BS fearlessly trap the ethereal entity, storing Paragon on a standard Metal Cassette tape.

NE-HI - Gulliver's Travels Star is down with the Elves

NE-HI in Lap Dancin' Danger

924 is a number I see often.  Very often.  Big article on that coming soon.

Gulliver Drinks Cola - Knee High in 1924


Outside, the Sun is setting and our dynamic duo must be movin’ on. More importantly, JB is becoming stupider by the minute. Stars on the awning as the day closes, I notice an advertisement on the run-down facade of the aquatic gentleman’s club. NEHI.

I laugh – not for the first time, either. Knee High. Didn’t JB also star in the movie adaptation of Gulliver’s Travels? Now if I remember Ms Rhodes’ 11th grade English correctly, that book was full of little people from Lilliput.

So, of course, I go to google. I ask it, "NEHI". It replies.

There’s that wet trout again, slapping me across the chops. The wikipedia page even says Knee High, for crying out loud. Dig those Osiris Yellow & Green colours, too.

So that’s it for 1999’s Heat Vision & Jack – like I said, good for laughs and amazing for symbolic synchronicities. Ridiculous in fact. By this time (this being a summary of last night’s heavy synch activity), it’s getting pretty late and the pilot episode is finished.

I watch it a couple more times, taking notes whilst I run off a few quick twitsync collages. It occurs to me, sitting there at 4AM on Saturday night:

Crazy old Google HAL 9000

Google points back to In-Diana, I follow.

What if someone has already looked into the symbolism of?

So I ask google again: "Heat Vision And Jack Synchromystic". I don’t want to spend all day Sunday writing an article only for it to be done already, narsayin?

The results, of course – totally in line with this titanic sync Weekend of the 27th – come back with the perfect, beautiful, amazingly joyous finishing link. A spam aggreg8tor, no less.

You might remember – you may not, I don’t remember starting this article – that I posted a link at the top of the page pointing towards a g8ors piece. It’s another recent article and it covers things like MooN, Telephones, also Bananas. With this in mind, let’s re-examine the Google output screenshot. Scroll down and you see the visited link containing the key sync word, Indiana.

Again, the Google String: "Heat Vision And Jack Synchromystic".

Bear in mind I was just checking to see if anyone had written anything specifically synchromystic about the Pilot Episode above. Google seemed to say this was not the case, as there were no stand-out direct links for the keywords.


Jack Austin wore Sunglasses to defy Paragon's power

There was, however the In-diana breadcrumb. Despite the fact I had to go to sleep at some point, the sync seemingly wasn’t done with me just yet. The link could not be ignored and demanded to be clicked, there in the darkness at 4:15AM, Saturday 27th. Sunday, I guess. Anyway. Dig it:

In Diana. Jack.

Ridiculous, no? The sync whole post on the Moon, Bananas. Jack Black and Heat Vision. Most definitely something you might call a meaningful coincidence. It’s even got a Zebra there, hanging out with Indiana Jack on the Island.

Didn’t Jack discover King Kong, that big beautiful beast, on an Island someplace too?

In Year One, our Enlightened Everyman is asked by his travelling companion what specific effects Jack’s eating of the Forbidden Fruit has brought into play. JB says for one, he is able to see ten minutes into the future. His companion asks of him if this is indeed true, what will he be doing ten minutes from now?

Jack replies: "Getting fucked by a Zebra."

I was most definitely jumping for Joy at this point. It’s like getting a piece of paper from the Doctor with a big red stamp on it saying NOT CRAZY. Assuming of course you’re one of those people who gives a hoot about authority figures and their silly pieces of paper.

So, a momentous group of synchronicities that all tie perfectly back to square one in Year One. The banana theme is self-evident early in the film, too. This then threw up an even more amazing, if somewhat darker, synchronicity.

It involves More Bananas, the Libyan Despot that so terribly saturates our media world this February 2011 and the date that started it all.

I’ve said it once, I’ll say it again, Ridiculous, no?

All we need now is to somehow have a Banana Link show up next to the Strawberry on my tattoo and we’re three for thr…huh?

Naughty Moon Key Throws Fish At the Sharks

Naughty Moon Key Throws Fish At the Sharks

Before I sign off, I’ll leave you safe in the knowledge that :

"Bennu Bird (egyptian Phoenix) was pronounced similarly to Banana."

Phoenix, like the one NEO my tattooist etched into the shoulder of my left arm on January 12th , this year?

Y’all gone Crazy Bananas yet?



Sinking About Sings #1 : Fighting

Tuesday, January 25th, 2011

Dead Birds

Dead Birds

Sync Happens.

Since Late November 2010, I have found this to be true.  Through personal synchronisations with the Moon, no less, I have found this to be as true as true can be.  As true as the sky above you, as true as the earth below.

It is with deepest thanks to the Sync Whole and what is shared within that I submit this, my first contribution/footnote to the very real, very much ongoing definition of Crazy.

True Crazy, you see, really is the only way to hear to the music of the universe.  In order to truly see what truly is to be seen, it is Death that must first be confronted, then conquered.


The Death of the Ego, which leads to:

The Death of Your Self, which leads to:

The Death of Fear – and it’s longheld control over You.

Now doesn’t that sound like a nice change?


Cross the threshold and step through that door at Number 23 .

Once you go all out, buck wild, left-the-herd-and-last-seen-streaking-naked-through-the-wilderness Totally Crazy – then, and only then, do you really begin to see what Jefferson Airplane meant by Go Ask Alice .

The true meaning of Crazy is the flowerchild definition: crazy as in beautiful .

Wizdom –

Your Real Eyes; Life Equals Game.

And so, on to the Moon.


In my former life I was a keen follower of Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu, or BJJ . Some years later, in the Now and enjoying this current incarnation as a webdesignthing I digitally follow the larger corporations, especially during new marketing campaigns.

So it was with great interest that I took a proper gander at Saturnday’s UFC: Fight For The Troops, held at a military base in Fort Hood, Texas, sponsored, amongst others, by Verizon.

On the 22nd of the 1st 2011 – or 1/22/11 as is the format in TX – they advertised their new 4G network, calling upon prospective users to join forces and “Rule The Air” with them.

I am especially interested in Corporate Sponsorship, and the entanglements therein. In this case, the company in question is a global communications giant and has a sponsorship deal with the army of a nation. Oh.

Wow, Hmmm. Hey.

Sure is interesting. Don’t…You…Think?

This of course concludes my combo-excuse for watching TV/Fighting.

On to the logo, Verizon’s new motif.

4G LTE. Futuristic.

Verizon 4G LTE. Futuristic

I like this design immediately because it reminds me of the font used in Tron. The 1982 classic with Jeff Bridges. In it, JB plays a free-spirited computer programmer who works for ENCOM. ENCOM, like most corporations, do not care for their staff. Disgruntled employee JB has had enough and with two friends breaks into his old company to set things right. Go Jay Bee – sticking it to the man, even way back then in ’82.

Open, Says-a JB

And so I think, quickly, mindlessly, normally:

Nice.  The designers must like Tron.

OK. Fine. Autopilot – check. Let’s put it on manual for a second though. Stop, think of things I’ve been reading over the last couple of years. How things really aren’t all that they seem. How lies and deceit are currency; how the denial of one’s spirit forms the very crux of modern living. I drift, dream, flip, flop and flow for a bit down the River of Mind.


At once, it arrives.


Wise Up Sunny Jim!


The Future Securely Shackled;

The Kids of Tron, Fell For the Font –

2 Bcome the Kids of Verizon.


And So I continue to think. A little more.  And Up. Up and Out of the Box.  You know, TC .

I re-check the Verizon logo. I put my [shiny, new] Gematria hat on.

I see that 4 is D and 7 is G .

I think about Dolce & Gabbana.  DC Shoe Co.  D&G, D&C. Marketing Departments and PR Gods. Don’t you think it’s weird how all these logos copy each other back and forth and whatknot? It’s a real tangle – they all look the same!

vesica piscis - logos

PR Gods at 'Work'

Surely we’d have seen a few intellectual property lawsuits by now? No copyright infringment trials? One would assume the geniuses in the Marketing Dept. would have at least had the presence of forethought to contact R&D to get this sweet interlocking-circles design trademarked – and PFQ, right?

Well you see, turns out this symbol is old. Really, really old. It’s called The Vesica Piscis . More on that later though.

You see, the thing is, in our brave new modern world, the Logo is more than just a rip off waiting to be ripped off. It became something to stick on, too. Corporate Branding, the Madison Avenue Monster. It changed everything. Re-ordered the Order of Things. We no longer needed a Spiritual side to life – for we were now regularly informed of all things plastic and glittery, all available to buy and all guaranteed to improve our dull, war-drenched lives. The Logo has fused perfectly with the concepts of physical materialism via jewellery, for example, or clothing. Hell, Cars. So we now see how Symbols of Old became the Symbols of New: Status Symbols.

I wear So & So. Did you see her bag? It was from This & That. OMG, I need a new bottle of Such & Such. We are what we wear. Today, beauty is retina-deep.

Now, to me those earrings in the above collage are ugly. I’m not sure how much extra status one would lay claim to by wearing such items. With this in mind – this firm, instinctive belief that what I am looking at is not beautiful at all – I can go on to make an affirmation. A statement based on logic. To wit; I’m of the belief that assertions as to the Lead content of these earrings may now also be untrue, too. This is how thinking works. I recommend it.

Oh and seeing as we’re on Lead and cheap metals, did you know that the atomic number for Silver is 47 ?

But anyway, what do I know – Social Stature is indeed a fickle beast and I have not played the game for quite some time. Maybe they’re telling the truth. Maybe they’re beautiful. Maybe if I wear these glittery globs on my ears I’ll get mad play. I guess if it comes down to it the tell-tale sign would be elongated earlobes: Heavy Metal , right?

Yes, Sex Sells. Which is why the oh-so-yonic Vesica Pisces are plastered pretty much every where you look. Back to the numbers.

To summarise succinctly, DG = 47 = Silver .

With refreshed eyes let’s take another look at 4G LTE then:

47 LTE.

47 LTE. Synctastic

4G / 47 L T E.  So what does L T E work out to?

L is 12, T is 20, and E is – sometimes – 5.

So L + T + E equals 37.

We can then easily resolve 37 to 37 = CG , too. Well Isn’t that cool?
DG = 47 .
CG = 37 .
Thus BG = 27 . Nice series.

So what happens if we add 4G to 2G / 47 + 27, skipping for now the 3G Network Center at CG?

47 + 27 = 74 .

Hmmmm. DG / GD / CG / GC / BG / GB / DC / CD / BD / DB.

DouBle Hmmmm.

DG = 47 = Silver = 74 = GD

BG = 27 = Moon = 72 = GB

Say what? 27 / 72 = Moon? How’s that? Later, I promise. Right now, I’m seeing a pattern here. Are you pickin’ up what I’m puttin’ down?

I guess you dig so let’s move on, with 47 / 27 , the new campaign from Verizon calling upon us to Rule The Air , and the idea of A Pattern fresh in our freely flowing minds.

Rule The Air

If you remember, we were discussing Saturnday’s UFC Event. The Event begins and we are treated to a montage of various military personnel, equipment and procedures, opening with a large panoramic view of helicopters on hot tarmac.

Three soldiers walk out onto the airfield, and as the camera pans even further out we count four helicopters ready to join forces with the soldiers in order to Rule The Air.

I’m getting the message, I think. Funny – crazy even – that Hermes / Mercury was known as the Messenger God. He wore winged sandals and ruled the airwaves, too. I wonder what kind of message these Big Birds are sending. Incoming teXt?

DriLLs @ 11

Drills @ 11

I dig how they chose this one sequence of soldiers running a routine past a house with 11 on the wall. Now what if I were to tell you that this year, 2011 = Chinese Lunar Year of the Rabbit . And what if I went on to say that the Rabbit is associated with the Moon in other ways? Crazy, right? As usual, more on that later.

A few more displays of various Killing Machines & Methods. A soldier by the name of Horton receives a zoom-in. A few tanks trundle past the setting Sun. We understand that by combining these land forces via high-tech communications with the Airborne Assault, the Air can be Ruled. Following this lengthy pastiche, with 2:41 on the clock, the video shows in no uncertain terms it’s finally Time To Fight. Rule The Air prevails as we pan into the hangar, seeing more Big Birds being bathed in a green glow by big eXes. Now, I’ve read somewhere that X is the 24thletter of the alpha-bet.

Can I get my heli in Osiris Green please, Sarge?

I also read somewhere that Green is a colour associated with Osiris, the King of the Underworld. As the story goes, Osiris was one of two; his sister, and later wife, Isis, truly was his other half.

It is probably safe to say that in history, no two other names can be highlighted as more resonant in terms of the sheer multitude of symbolic references that apply. Isis is the Goddess of Motherhood, Magic and Fertility. Osiris is as stated King of the Underworld but also viewed as a God of Fertility, in an agrarian sense. It was said when he returned, the cornfields would sprout up out of the earth. The Favourite Sun. God.

And, well, it follows then, that Isis is – in terms of symbolism, at least – that wise old Owl, the Moon. The Sun’s other half. Isis = Moon .

  • Isis/Osiris
  • Input/Output
  • Yin/Yang
  • Binary Stars – 1 + 0

It transpires as the video progresses that this particular UFC Event is taking place in order to raise money for the IFHF – Intrepid Fallen Heroes Fund.


IFHF - Symmetry

This fund focuses on injured soldiers, and its research is weighted heavily towards Brain Philosophy. Between fights there are long segments detailing the futuristic techniques they employ to rebuild injured soldiers. It’s pretty crazy. Man meets Machine as the Army tries to second guess the symmetry of nature.

Symmetry therefore in this logo becomes more apparent: the designer ensures that each ‘side’ has 8 headstones in the cemetery that Mother & Son walk through. Crazy 88. There is further symmetry if you dig a little – sideways perhaps – into the numbers.

I = 9 / F = 6 / H = 8 / F = 6.

Now last time I checked 96 minus 86 equals 10. The Binary Stars. The Father & The Mother. You can’t get much more symmetrical than that. So now we can see the Sun for what he is – The Absent Sky Father, casting spirited rays of warmth over the Mother with Child below. Classic logo work.

Back to The Event. The first standout fight was announced in the 42nd minute.

The Mexicutioner

12-4 JayBee

Joey ‘The Mexicutioner’ Beltran vs Pat ‘HD’ Barry. As we are introduced to the fighters, we see Joey Beltran has a record of 12-4 . I like the fact that Joey has a Janus-resonating logo as his sponsor in HeadBlade, and why not – it being JANU-ary and all. heaDBlade.

DB = 42 . So many D ead B irds lately, don’t you think?

JB is also sponsored by HeadRush. I guess two Heads are better than one. What I think is coolest, though, is the tagline on HeadRush : Fortune Favours The Brave. Well, did you know that Fortuna was a Roman God often depicted as Fortuna bifrons; “two-faced Fortune”? Two-faced heaDBlade / Fortuna bifrons on HeadRush tag. Crazy, no? Well check this then – in Astrological terms, Pars Fortuna is a mathematical point calculated using the positions of the Sun, Moon, and respective ascendant for a given individual. Weren’t we just kickin’ it about those two? Back to the fight!

Joey BELTran’s opponent is the tree-trunk thighed Pat ‘HD’ Barry. PB is sponsored by Alienware, so he also has a face on his trunks – a big white almond Alien face.

Pat HD Barry

240lb Pat is 5-2

Weighing in at 240lbs, young Pat is a formidable K1 KickBoxer and is known for his Heavy, Heavy, Hands. Comprised of Dense Metal, ole PB’s fists, apparently. PB is 511 and hails from WI, or W = 23 / I = 9. Now I make 5 + 11 + 23 + 9 = 48.

I like ‘HD’. H = 8 / D = 4 . He has a twinkle in his eye. After two very one-sided rounds, in which JB – who despite his bravery was left very much in the lurch by Fickle Fortuna – found himself confused and leaden-footed in the face of PB’s toxic attacks.

Then, at 3:03 in the 3rd, I perk up.

Putting Heads Together

76 - 43 = 33

The first thing I noticed is all the Heads in there! JB has gone for broke and HeadRushed the Bull that is PB, driving him into the cage. I like how as the fighters lock horns and put their heads together, so do the faces on their shorts.

Alienware ET dude, meet 42/heaDBlade/Janus. Janus, meet ET. The charge ends in this position at the cage at 3:03 in the 3rd. Funny then – crazy actually – that the numbers flashing across the message bar on screen at this precise moment are 4376. Now I’m no Maath Wiz, but I could swear when you subtract 43 from 76 you end up with 33. Let’s reflect on that for a bit. Oh, and why not go ahead and reflect on 33 too – I get 88, don’t you? Crazy! The fight goes to a decision. We cut to another Military Montage.


Major GG

This ends, and we zoom-in candidly to a shot of the visiting commander. With the shooting of Congresswoman Gabrielle Giffords making headlines in Tucson and all over the world earlier this month, I note the GG.

This GG seems uncomfortable in the limelight, goofing briefly with the cameraman before returning to staring into space and clapping. I’m sure the attractive RedHead, also in shot and seemingly highlighted by the down pointing arrow of the Spike HD logo, was probably a better choice for the camera’s focus.

Major General G, Octagonside.

Later, following the successful decision, PB takes a moment to remember his father, a military man, who passed away 25 years ago.

Pat HD Barry

Pat Barry's Numbers

He holds in his hand his father’s dog-tags and reads out the numbers embossed there.

“Twenty-Five years ago, David J Barry, US 56 45 69 68…”

It is an emotional moment for the triumphant PB , who dedicates the win to DB , his lost dad.

Here we really hit the switches. 56 + 45 + 69 + 68 = 238 . I figured these numbers were important so I checked the dates on Wikipedia. It turns out that on April 12th, Year 238 BC, a father and son died on the same day.

12 th / 4 th .
4 th / 12 th .

These two romans were Gordian I & Gordian II. GG . In a tragic story in a time of tragic stories, Gordian I hung himself with his BELT upon receipt of news of his son Gordian II’s death as he RAN into battle. G1 was 79 years old, G2 was 46. 79 minus 46 = 33. Talk about getting tangled up in knots! The true beauty of syncing things through.

And so fitting then, that this young Taurean Gladiator with the ET on his shorts, PB , the Periodic Table symbol for Lead , wins an important personal fight against a tough opponent, as The Event’s movie sponsor pops up.

Shot by a Bull-ET

Drive Angry certainly looks to be action-packed – so much so that there’s a bullet hole shot straight through the A, leaving twisted metal and smoke behind. This film was brought into the sync just days ago and seems to be popping up all over the place – more later.

Seeing as I have been writing this article for the better part of seven hours, I’ll wrap it up with another Moon resonator.

This time it’s Matt Mitrione, fighting out of Indiana . IN-DIANA. Diana is associated through mythology with the Moon.

Indianas Matt Mitrione

In-Diana's Matt Mitrione: Hasty, Hasty Hands

Mitrione used to play with DB/42/Drew Brees at Purdue, before moving up to the NFL. He then switched to MMA and is fighting in the UFC with a 3-0 record. Mitrione the Moon resonator wins the fight swiftly using fast hands to attain the knockout. He is interviewed post-fight and wraps up his victory speech with the words:

“…and the second thing I would like to say is, I would LOVE to thank my Hands, for being so good.”

MM then throws up an 8-fingered salute to the camera, displaying four fingers on each hand. Each of his hands here, like most humans, contains 27 bones.

Mitrione is sponsored by Tilted Kilt / TK / 20 11 , which resonates with tartan & red hair .

Twenty Seven / Tartan / Red Hare / Rabbit Hole / Isis / The Moon!

The universe is singing. Fight your way through the b/s and come take your seat.



Wikipedia on the W-hole Deal: Synchronicity
Wikipedia on ‘Schwiizer’ Padre of Such Thinking: Carl Gustav Jung

SyncWhole Post on DB/42: DBs Treasure Chest
SyncWhole Post on 88: Acceler8 then Activ8
SyncWhole Video on 42: A Thin Skin or Membrane
SyncWhole Post on X/24: X Marks The Spot
SyncWhole Post on K2: K2 Starcup & The Vesica Piscis
SyncWhole Post on 84: The King of Love Is A Deadpan
SyncWhole Post on 27/72: The Found Tin
SyncWhole Post on Ark: Michael & The Ark

Vigilant Citizen on The Dark World of Corporate Logos: The Vesica Piscis

Wikipedia on 2011: Year of The Rabbit
Wikipedia on Osiris: The Green Man
Wikipedia on Isis: The Silver Woman
Wikipedia on GG: 4.12.238 – Gordian I & II
Wikipedia on Diana: Diana – Mythology
Wikipedia on Silver: Silver (Ag / 47)
Wikipedia on Lead: Lead (Pb / 82)


End transmission.

808 St8

808 St8 / H0H HG / Going The Whole Hog