Coincidences and Synchronicities

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Re: Coincidences and Synchronicities

Postby Hammer of Los » Sat Sep 29, 2012 12:02 pm

...

Watch and listen closely. Don't believe you are going mad. It's the quickening, aint it. I know your egg has not hatched mr 8. If your egg had hatched you would be a wizard and your 8 would be toppled over to become the sign of infinity. Lying on its side, it would once again stand tall. It's a paradox. I like paradoxes. A parrot box. Without hinges. You numb skull. Maybe you should give up eating chicken and become vegetarian. You are a very compassionate man, mr 8. Think of those poor old chickens. Birds are wise and intelligent creatures. I cannot eat them at my vibration level or I would suffer harm. Perhaps you suffer harm from the eating of the chicken. Also spicy food damages the sensitivity of the organism. Avoid spicy food. Become sensitive. You are already sensitive to the synchronicities. The suggestion that I am god is too ludicrous to comment upon. But I do know His Holy Name.

Is that better or worse?

I am as straightforward as I can be.

The world itself is a vast array of living symbols which reflect the state of your consciousness in this present here and now. This world, the real world, can only be spoken of symbolically.

Perhaps its too subtle for you.

I don't mean to offend.

I love you dearly. Like I said elsewhere, I see a lot of myself in you.

:wink

...

refined

Lay off the birds!

...
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Re: Coincidences and Synchronicities

Postby Hammer of Los » Sat Sep 29, 2012 1:18 pm

...

Do you like chinese food, mr 8?

I love chinese food.

...
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Re: Coincidences and Synchronicities

Postby 82_28 » Tue Dec 04, 2012 7:24 am

So I am cruising thru this antique "mall" today and out screams at me in the corner of my eye, both Ninakat and Jeff at the same time. Just sitting there waiting for me to notice it.

Image
There is no me. There is no you. There is all. There is no you. There is no me. And that is all. A profound acceptance of an enormous pageantry. A haunting certainty that the unifying principle of this universe is love. -- Propagandhi
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Re: Coincidences and Synchronicities

Postby Weather Balloons » Mon Mar 25, 2013 8:32 pm

I was reading about how Dick Cheney recently admitted to giving the order to shoot down Flight 93 in this thread over here:

viewtopic.php?f=8&t=34083&start=90#p496011

Then I start getting some food ready to eat and since I'm diabetic, I check my blood sugar, and it's 93.
"Go looking for a second quarter."
-Robert Anton Wilson
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Re: Coincidences and Synchronicities

Postby 82_28 » Tue Mar 26, 2013 9:31 am

Weather Balloons wrote:I was reading about how Dick Cheney recently admitted to giving the order to shoot down Flight 93 in this thread over here:

http://rigorousintuition.ca/board2/view ... 90#p496011

Then I start getting some food ready to eat and since I'm diabetic, I check my blood sugar, and it's 93.


Hahaha. And on it goes. I was thinking "where where where did I see a significant 93 today?" Ah yes! I've been having an online discussion about weird shit (as always) with some friends and one of them pointed us to this:

Watch this, and note it's Episode #93:

https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?v=16 ... permPage=1


Actually do watch that cartoon it will bend your fucking mind.
There is no me. There is no you. There is all. There is no you. There is no me. And that is all. A profound acceptance of an enormous pageantry. A haunting certainty that the unifying principle of this universe is love. -- Propagandhi
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Re: Coincidences and Synchronicities

Postby NeonLX » Tue Mar 26, 2013 10:00 am

82_28 wrote:
Weather Balloons wrote:
Watch this, and note it's Episode #93:

https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?v=16 ... permPage=1


Actually do watch that cartoon it will bend your fucking mind.


AHAHAHA! "Turn on the dark". :) That was one helluva trip. Thanks for introducing me to Adventure Time!
America is a fucked society because there is no room for essential human dignity. Its all about what you have, not who you are.--Joe Hillshoist
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Re: Coincidences and Synchronicities

Postby chump » Fri May 10, 2013 4:19 pm

You guys are freakin' me out :praybow

This is neither here nor there, but I wanted to share this recent experience. It is a true story and I thought you might like it.

Vacation?? New Orleans was easy, so my wife and I flew...I was in the window seat, watching the snow and thumbing through a book: (Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?) The little woman was in the middle, flipping channels already.

Straggling down the aisle in a baggy green coat, this swarthy vagabond was lugging everything he owned... and with quite a struggle, a lot of commotion... he shoved his bulging suitcase into the storage bin above our heads. I thought the door was gonna bust, but he finally got it closed. Panting, reeking of tobacco, thick black hair combed straight down over of the top of his forehead, he removed his coat and spread it onto the aisle seat. With his backpack between his legs, he plopped right next to my wife... Poor thing.

The guy looked exhausted. My wife didn't say a word. "That was tough!" I joked: My charming way to break the ice... So I could get back to reading. The plane was de-iced, and we roared down the runway and up through the clouds.

"It's my back!", he began, jostling in his seat, digging into the cavernous front pockets of a baggy pair of jeans, eventually setting three large bottles of pills onto the tray in front of him... still panting he explained: "Oyycotin", "muscle relaxers", and I thought he said, "Zanax"... Maybe not. He carefully placed the bottles into the backpack on the floor. Then, he continued to jabber, so I put my book down.

He went on like Huey Long for the entirety of the flight; describing how he had fallen "119 feet" onto the deck of an offshore rig, and how he fractured his spine, was paralysed, and how he recovered - suffering innumerable complications, heart attacks, infections, a coma, dozens of painful operations... That's why he carried those pills.

My wife was in the middle - her headphones between us; and the TV, of course.

Huey had been taking care of his mother out west. Just before she died, he was "stabbed 10 times" by some street person in Las Vegas who "asked him for a cigarette, and tried to take his wallet...".

"I knocked the fuck out of that guy... Oh! Excuse me Ma'am!" , he apologised to my wife. My wife ignored him... But, when he lifted his shirt to reveal the scar, she rolled her eyes.

"My lung was collapsed", he continued. "That's why I can't breathe... That, and the time I was cleaning the inside of an oil tank, wearing an oxygen mask, but breathin' too much oxygen! Yep! I didn't know a person could get too much oxygen! It's called hyperoxia http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hyperoxia... Very painful!"

He went on to describe just how painful it was...

Huey was on Social Security as a result of his injuries, but decribed his travels to Switzerland and Kuwait. A friend of his from high school likes his company, I guess; and takes him on these trips - all around the world...

Born and raised in the Bayou, Huey's family built their homestead before the Louisianna Purchase... He described the legalities of their pre-Jeffersonian claim, but I forgot... They drilled for oil and had some production... We talked about the oil business for awhile.

He knew everything about the state, and suggested a place for crawfish, near the French Quarter, where my wife and I had a room... He knew of a bar in the Bayou... And something about Voodoo! I asked him about the Deepwater Horizon. He wasn't affected all that much.

A couple of hours into the flight, Huey began to struggle (again) with his backpack as he talked. Eventually he wrastled a 17" laptop up onto the tray. Nice... But, the computer stayed closed. I noticed a white residue smeared on the top as Huey fished in his backpack again. Sure enough, he spilled out a pill and crunched it into powder with the bottle from which it fell. Then, he laid out two lines with his pinky, turning his pinky white.

My wife glared... At him, and then at me, and then at him again... We watched him wrangle from his pocket an overstuffed (George Castanza) wallet, from which he snagged a ten dollar bill - caked with powder already. He rolled the bill into a straw, and noisily snorted the lines up into his nose. I will never forget the look on her face.

I thought he was gonna offer us a bump! A suit and tie glared from accross the aisle - at him, and then at us.I thought he was going to complain! I couldn't help but laugh. But Huey sees him, and looks right at him. "What's up brother!?", he jives. The suit and tie looked back at his TV; and my wife looked back at hers.

"Reminds me of the eighties.", I yammered.

"Ha. Me too.", he replied, "I do it this way because I can't swallow those pills. I had an infection in my throat... "

I could tell that Huey was enjoying the momentary lack of pain. He settled back, relaxed in his seat, and was quiet for a moment... And then he calmly reminisced, "I knew some fellas back home... Ha! You ever heard of Barry Seal?"

Fuck! (Pardon my Cajun) I was already perplexed by this guy... Why is he talking to me? I had just revisited Seal, yet again, on the Internet. Seal was fresh in my mind... Furthermore, I worked on an oil rig, know something about oil, a little about drugs, and a lot about bad backs... I had a mother! I was reminded of the last time I flew. Many years ago, my 12 year old son and I flew to Ft. Lauderdale to pick-up a truck that I bought on E-Bay. We got an unexpected tour past the Venice Airport - by a similiarly chatty chum... Coincidentally, Welcome to Terrorland had just joined my library. I could profoundly relate to all that he professed. (But that's another story.)

"Oh yeah!", I replied, "The famous pilot! Treetop Flyer... Barry and the Boys... The Fat Lady... Iran Contra... Died in a hail of bullets with George Bush's phone number in his wallet."

Huey gaped like a country boy, his head turned sideways, and then he leans closer. I notice the pores on his face... The little woman is eyeing me again. Our heads are nearly touching just above her lap. In a lower tone, he discreetly blabs, "Barry Seal was a friend of mine... We went to the same school... He was a few grades ahead of me... Same age as my older brothers... Barry learned to fly when he was a kid... He and my cousins flew for a livin'... " On and on, like he personally knew the man! "Hell of a pilot... Columbians killed him... Nice guy... Great man... A legend in his time... " No revelations. But it was surely entertaining.

Then Huey leans in again and practically whispers. "Carlos Marcello was the one who shot Kennedy. You know... He's the one who had it done." And then he paused to check my reaction.

"I've heard that before..." , I matter-of factly said. Then, I described the cover of Hopsicker's book.

Image

"What's the name of that Book?", he asked.

I scribbled it down and handed it to him. He was quiet for the final approach... Thankfully, as far as my wife was concerned.

As we were shuffling into the airport, I asked my good buddy, "What is your name?" He told me, and I told him mine. We almost exchanged numbers - and could've shared a cab - but didn't... The little woman would've knocked off my head!

"Enjoyed the conversation.", I told him. "I hope your back feels better... Good luck with all that!" He shook my hand and shrugged his shoulders, "Bye. "

It was Saturday night. We arrived in time for the parade. The cabby drove my wife and I as close as possible to our Bourbon Street Hotel, and then we hauled our bags for the last several blocks through the party crowd. The weather was balmy. T'was a beautiful night. We dropped the bags off and wandered around - past the Crawfish place, oddly enough. An ebony Cajun woman was steaming the red crustaceans out in front. We walked past once, and then we returned; and she encouraged us to have dinner: Crawdad stew with a bottle of wine. Bon Appetit!. (We both got the shits the next day.) The restaurant was a prototypical hole in the wall; narrow and deep into an old, decrepid building; barely wide enough to walk between the tables on each side along the wall.

My wife was facing the street, and I was facing the bathroom. Okay? Where is that guy? I half expected to see him again. I looked over my shoulder toward the open front door... A party in the street had just wandered on by... In the relative quiet I noticed the song on the speaker in the restaurant... Treetop Flyer, by Stephen Stills.

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Re: Coincidences and Synchronicities

Postby Joe Hillshoist » Fri May 10, 2013 11:10 pm

Unreal!
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Re: Coincidences and Synchronicities

Postby NeonLX » Sat May 11, 2013 10:21 am

Wow. :shock: That was one helluva read!
America is a fucked society because there is no room for essential human dignity. Its all about what you have, not who you are.--Joe Hillshoist
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Re: Coincidences and Synchronicities

Postby Pele'sDaughter » Sun May 12, 2013 5:39 pm

:thumbsup
Don't believe anything they say.
And at the same time,
Don't believe that they say anything without a reason.
---Immanuel Kant
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Re: Coincidences and Synchronicities

Postby Bruce Dazzling » Sun May 12, 2013 7:26 pm

Yesterday afternoon I watched the guys at Red Letter Media review "Iron Man 3." During the review, they commented multiple times that the movie was directed by Shane Black, who wrote the original "Lethal Weapon." I had never heard of this guy, and it struck me as a bit odd that they kept mentioning it.

Anyway, I finished watching the review and went downstairs where Miss Dazzling was watching a movie on the TeeVee. I grabbed the remote control and pressed the "info" button and discovered that she was watching a movie called "Kiss Kiss Bang Bang," which was directed by, wait for it...

Shane fucking Black.

Not only that, but the little blurb that appeared on the screen specifically mentioned that he made his Hollywood debut as the writer of "Lethal Weapon."

Shit's fucked up and shit.
"Arrogance is experiential and environmental in cause. Human experience can make and unmake arrogance. Ours is about to get unmade."

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Re: Coincidences and Synchronicities

Postby justdrew » Sun May 12, 2013 7:30 pm

who knew "Lethal Weapon" even had a writer :eeyaa

(never seen it)
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Re: Coincidences and Synchronicities

Postby Jerky » Sun May 12, 2013 7:43 pm

Chump, brother, your vivid description reminded me of a few close encounters of my own. Excellent wordsmithery, sir.

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Re: Coincidences and Synchronicities

Postby Novem5er » Mon May 20, 2013 5:21 pm

First, these kinds of things have happened to me throughout my life, but they are always strange :) I had a double synchronicity, though, so that warrants my attention. I thought I'd share here.

As a preface, I was reading the excellent blog http://runesoup.com/ last evening, much like I used to to to Jeff's excellent posts years ago. The blog is sort of about chaos magic, the odd things the writer encounters, and his particular take on history and events. I'm sure you guys have visited it before (and in fact, I probably found it through a link provided here). I don't really believe in magic of any kind, but it's an interesting read and his recent series of articles titled, Archonology (http://runesoup.com/category/archonology/), which is kind of like deep politics, alien tech, etc, etc. Good stuff.

My reading of Rune Soup is not linked to any synchronicity... however, it might have put me in the mindset to be more receptive to them. On to my double synchronicity!

I woke up today and got ready for work. For no particular reason, that pop song "Suit and Tie" was in my head at 6am this morning. However, no the whole song: just two lines by Jay-Z:

No papers, catch vapors /
Get high, out Vegas


This little part was stuck on repeat in my head for about an hour as I got to work. I have no idea why. I had heard the song on my way home from work 3 days earlier. So I continue on, ignoring the two-line snippet repeating in my hand (it was just a gnat of a thought, really). I get ready for work, head out the door, and enter my car. I start the engine, get hit in the face by the A/C that was left on high from my last drive, and blaring on the radio:

No papers, catch vapors /
Get high, out Vegas


I kid you not. The synchronicity hit my like a ton of bricks. Woah! If I had been 3 seconds later, I would have completely missed that part of the song. If I'd been a moment earlier, I would have just thought it odd that the song came on when I had part of it in my head. But to hear the exact two lines exactly as I'd been hearing them for an hour earlier in my head? Huh.

And of course, I have to post the last two lines of the quartet. Maybe reading Rune Soup was a synchronicity in itself, now that I type them out.

No papers, catch vapors /
Get high, out Vegas /
Who says the devils ain't looking for trouble /
You just got good genes so a nigga tryna cuff you


Fast forward to the end of work. I haven't mentioned it before, but I'm actually a public school teacher. I teach middle school mathematics (yay!). Being towards the end of the school year, and a Monday, there were a lot of kids acting out today. More than normal, but it comes with the territory. I walked through the parking lot with two other teachers, each swapping stories about how terrible certain kids were acting that day. As a parting farewell, my coworker said "There's just no solution", regarding how to get these kids to act right and take life seriously. I laughed and got in my car.

I started the engine, got blasted in the face by the A/C still turned on high from my earlier drive and blaring on the radio:

...We don't need no education /
We don't need no, thought control...


Well played, Mr. Floyd. I could only laugh and sing along "HEY TEACHER! Leave them kids alone!". I thought back to the innumeral decisions I made to walk to my car at that moment. Any number of things could have kept me longer or driven me to leave a few minutes earlier. Nope. I had to have that exact conversation about "fixing kids attitudes", only to be reprimanded by the Pink and the gang.

Is it odd that my radio speaks to me? :p
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Re: Coincidences and Synchronicities

Postby Novem5er » Tue May 21, 2013 6:35 pm

I hate to reply to my own post, but damn I had another odd day. Two in a row.

After watching hours of the OKC tornado footage, I sunk into my usual introspective funk, thinking about God, religion, and how cruel the world can be. Of course, I should mention that I've been reading that blog, http://runesoup.com/ which is basically about chaos magic and the world. Just a note, I don't really believe in magic, chaotic or otherwise, but the social analysis on the blog has been interesting. So I've been reading Rune Soup and watching the tornado footage, and these thoughts keep coming into my head:

There is no Plan.
There is only Chaos.


That pretty much sums up my feelings towards God and these tragedies. Fast forward to this morning and my standard commute to work. That phrase is in the back of my mind now, just hanging out there. There is no Plan. There is only Chaos.

I get to work, boot up the laptop, and check my email. I sort through the usual communications about today's events, students in suspension, etc. A few messages down is a message sent to all employees, asking everyone to check out their local theater group as it embarks on a new stage production. The title of the play?

"Beautiful Chaos"

I can honestly say that I've never seen the word, Chaos, appear on my work computer screen over these last several years. It's just not a word used in our profession. In fact, we strive countless hours trying to keep chaos at bay within our school environment. Our email systems also fall under strict public records law, so everything written is archived indefinitely for future public reference. I say all this just to point out that 99% of our written communication is dry, professional, and devoid of interesting words like chaos, so the chances of me encountering this word in my work email, after I've had that specific phrase stuck in my head for 12 hours is highly unlikely.

This was the strongest synchronicity of the day, but it was not the last. Yes, another double-whammy... or it might even be a quadruple whammy for those that read further.

Much later in the day, I am doodling on my whiteboard with a marker, trying to entertain a few students while a handful finish solving a problem in their notebooks. I do this from time to kill 20 seconds: I've drawn dragons, skulls, clowns, spiderwebs, trees, etc, anything to keep their attention for a few seconds while we wait for someone to finish. Today I drew a rose. No particular reason. It actually started out as a generic plant, but I got creative and drew some pedals and thorns. Of course, as soon as I drew a thorn, I had a song pop in my head... You know it: Every rose has its thorn... of Brett Michaels fame.

Three hours later, I've driving home and flipping the stations. Of course, during a random flip of the stations, what do I hear:

"Eeeevvvv-reeee rosssseee has its thorn..." and the rest of the chorus as it fades out to end the song. Twenty seconds later and I would have missed it. At this time, my mind is moving rapid fire about synchronicity. I've long thought about it linked to the Viking concept of Wyrd... the interconnected nature of ourselves and the universe around us. As a western concept, Wyrd has stuck with us, however as an Eastern concept, I've often linked it as Karma. I know the two are not a great match, but they have often been linked in my mind.

So after Mr. Michaels has faded out, the DJ comes on and, with an enthusiastic voice calls out to me: "Have I got a story about KARMA for you! Instant karma!"

My jaw literally dropped open. What is this?! The story was some nonsense about a purse snatcher being hit by a bus... but the synchronicity of the word karma hit me like a fist. Thoughts of chaos > chaos in my email > drawing a rose > hearing the song > thoughts of Wyrd > story of karma.

Almost stunned, I changed stations again. I heard the outro to Steve Millers "Keep on Rocking Me, Baby" (and I was feeling pretty rocked at this point), but a few seconds later I was stunned again. That unmistakable whine that introduces Phil Collins' most famous song filled the cabin of my car. I didn't hear the words yet, but I knew the song immediately.

I can feel it.... coming in the air tonight. Hold on.

It's such an eerie song on its own, but at that moment, after synchronicity after synchronicity hitting me in 48 hours, thoughts of Wyrd and Karma flooding me, Phil Collins' voice came to me like a ghost. I felt like I was kicked in the stomach. Disoriented, but not in the physical world. I came home and told my wife about my strange day and she was impressed. She's the spiritual one of the two of us (I'm the agnostic, bordering on atheist). She asked me what I thought it all meant.

I told her I don't think anything. At this point, I'm just experiencing.

Any thoughts?
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