Everything begins to (e)merge in Union

I don't often write about politics anymore - much of that conversation just seems like noise and an unnecessary aspect of human existence. But, I understand that the interest I had in political affairs a few years ago was something I needed to experience or I never would have met my wife. So allow me a brief-as-possible backstory, then we'll dive into the synchro-goodies:

The journey

Though no one in my family ever discussed politics or paid it much attention, I grew up drawing cartoons of a character named Umpa, a monkey that was forced into slave labor for a television studio that oppressed the masses via tv programming. Umpa spearheaded a rebellion. I had no politics, sans seeking freedom and opposing authoritarianism. Probably a normal emotion for a child to express - though perhaps an unusual way to express it.

Immediately after 9/11, when I saw my skyline altered and the place I had my HS prom demolished, I was not angry but a bit saddened. However, over the next few days and weeks the propaganda was turned on full force and I was admittedly swayed into the camp of blindly angry Americans.

In 2005, I had my first psychedelic experience and all the programming flew out the window. And I mean all of it - not just the post-9/11 fear-mongering, but all the stuff that had been put into my head throughout my life. This is something that can only be fully understood by someone who has had an ego-death experience.

I existed for a short while with a great inner peace and felt as if I was at one with creation. But, slowly, my ego began to rebuild itself - albeit with new parameters. I felt as if I had to atone for my role in supporting Bush's attack on Iraq and worked to hold him accountable. I attended a lecture on the Impeachment process at a church up in Harlem. That was it - I attended a lecture. I was now considered a terrorist. Over the next few days, I was repeatedly visited by federal agents in black suits who wanted to intimidate me. They broke into my house and searched through my belongings (which, according to the Patriot Act, I cannot tell you about or I am committing another "crime"). It was at this point that I realized what these guys would do to hold onto their imagined power structure, and I was driven to do more research and spent a good deal of time in the depths of conspiracy literature.

When the 2008 election-cycle came about, I supported Ron Paul's candidacy and worked on what I thought was a campaign against tyranny. By February 2008, Ron Paul's run was essentially over and I had to catch up on all my personal responsibilities that I had let slide during the campaign. Realizing that campaign politics were a product of the very system I opposed, I looked for an outlet that better suited me. I began to write about Umpa again, after oh so many years, in a book that would become Look At All The Happy Creatures.

Months passed, and I received a phone call asking if I wanted to go with some of the Ron Paul supporters from NYC out to an event he was holding in Minnesota. It was being held next to, and in opposition of, the RNC. Something told me I had to go - a feeling deep inside, that I had not heard in a long time, told me to say yes and make the trip.

Very often, this is how synchronicity works. We have to travel the long road to get to the right place at the right time.

On September 2nd 2008, in a crowd of 10,000 people, I spotted her. An intense wave of - what can I call it but destiny or a guiding light - drew me to her. Melissa had a glow about her and I knew that she was my future. I tapped her on the elbow and said, "excuse me miss." Two years later, to the day, we married.

Union

There has been much talk lately, both on the national political spectrum and on a personal synchromystic spectrum, of gay marriage. California's Prop 8 was featured on the Sync Whole and is still resonating over on Michael's blog, where he has connected it to the now-familiar 88.

I guess this is a product of my own journey, but what amazes me is that people are still looking to be recognized by The State. Why seek a license (essentially permission) from anyone? I don't care if you are gay or straight, if you find love in this world, you'd better embrace it - and screw what anybody else thinks.

There have been many family members and friends that have offered their advice over the last few months - telling us that we should register for a marriage license, that it would make life easier. But, that's something that doesn't even pop onto my radar anymore, and, if I am forced to think of it, I am repelled by it. What does a third-party bureaucracy have to do with love? What does it have to do with anything?

Though I categorize the political philosophy of Happy Creatures as Libertarian, that's really because it is a less loaded word than anarchy. My biggest issue with Libertarians is that, try as they might to oppose the system, they are still playing somebody else's game. I'm done opposing anybody's system - be that governmental or conspiratorial shadows. I'm not going to fight anybody or anything. I just disregard the noise. I embrace the love.

Kurt Vonnegut, while very often espousing poor political advice, inadvertently gives an amazing metaphor for this way of thinking in the prologue to Timequake. He's talking about a method for writing. I'm talking about a method for living.

"Ernest Hemingway in 1952 published in Life magazine a long short story called The Old Man and the Sea. It was about a Cuban fisherman who hadn't caught anything for eighty-four days. The Cuban hooked an enormous marlin. He killed it and lashed it alongside his boat. Before he could get it to shore, though, sharks bit off all the meat on the skeleton.

I was living in Barnstable Village on Cape Cod when the story appeared. I asked a neighboring commercial fisherman what he thought of it. He said the hero was an idiot. He should have hacked off the best chunks of meat and put them in the bottom of the boat, and left the rest of the carcass for the sharks.

It could be that the sharks Hemingway had in mind were critics who hadn't much liked his first novel in ten years, Across the River and into the Trees, published two years earlier. As far as I know, he never said so. But the marlin could have been that novel.

And then I found myself in the winter of 1996 the creator of a novel which did not work, which had no point, which had never wanted to be written in the first place. Merde! I had spent nearly a decade on that ungrateful fish, if you will. It wasn't even fit for shark chum.

I had recently turned seventy-three. My mother made it to fifty-two, my father to seventy-two. Hemingway almost made it to sixty-two. I had lived too long! What was I to do?

Answer: Filet the fish. Throw the rest away."

This is also good advice on how to write a blog post, so let me assume I've made my point and give you what you really came here for...

In our last post, we overlapped heavily with the Fiery Birth post from the Sync Whole. The US Open logo I wanted to write about looked exactly like the meteor impact placard they found near a Canadian lake. They later added more content to that post, and made it even more in sync. They went into tennis syncs as well and then wrote about two weddings that started a conversation on Union. All this, days before our wedding!

Here is the US Open poster I had stared at in the subway. It makes the logo look even more like a meteor by the way it flies over the city. See the Sync Whole's follow-up to the Fiery Birth, a post about a meteor crashing in Columbia on September 5th, for a record of just how strong the flow is these days. The hits just keep on coming!

And, speaking of great balls of fire, I would be remiss if I did not point out that the US Open is held at the Arthur Ashe stadium!

By passing through the center of the tennis racket, the ball becomes even more resonant of a sun by creating a circumpunct. It also reminds me of a bullseye. Kinda like the Martian impact crater (formed by more falling celestial bodies) we were shown on August 4th of all days.

Perhaps, telling us to find our center, this bullseye is found again on the cover for the Pink Floyd collection, Echoes.

Note how much of this current study stems out of a look at the symbolism of the fires of the Pentecost, and the man who has just passed the bullseye (emerged from his center) is on fire.

Echoes

The word "echoes" is another familiar sign these days. Just as I was typing "echoes" into google search to find that album art, the auto-fill gave me "Echoes of the Rainbow," a movie with a poster that brings us back to the August 4th double-rainbow and features a cross (X-marks the spot).

But I can't think of "Echo" without thinking of John Lilly's ECCO, you know, those beyond-our-perception buggers who control coincidences here on earth. While I can't attest for the things Lilly believes he discovered while exploring the human limits of psychedelic intake - I do not entirely dismiss them either. Lord knows I learned a lot from my experiences.

I like how the artwork done for Lilly's ECCO from the futurehi website features dolphins. Which brings us to Ecco the dolphin - a game brought to us by Genesis. I never knew this, but that game also involved time-travel and space beings.

Dolphins crossed paths with meteors and comets again recently in this NosisTV video:

After watching that video, what's funny to me is that, with so much talk of Panspermia lately, I had used the Peach tree as an analogy for the possible propagation of plant consciousness. I said that a peach tree gives you delicious fruit for you to eat so you'll crap it out at a distance with your own fertilizer. Would not the Mushroom spore or Cannabis plant invite you to cultivate it so that it can continue on and use your nervous system when necessary?

That's an explanation for "the green movement" I haven't heard yet.

That reminds me, you may have noticed the name change over on the side there. When I realized that it may be the cause for all the Osiris-syncs I was experiencing, I had briefly mentioned that I would be changing my last name to Green in an older post. In one of our first phone conversations, Melissa and I spoke about favorite colors. We both adore the color green. I said, super early on in that first or second conversation, that if we ever got married we could change our last name to Green. And so we have.

We passed through the center...merged...

...and emerged green.

Oh, and we passed through the marriage stargate at exactly 4:02:32 PM.

My initials change from (AJA)111 to (AJG)117, which is Melissa's birthday, so that's pretty cool. That also means that I'm now AG which is 17 in numerology terms and the element silver.

Green is the color of the heart chakra, and therefore quite appropriate for a celebration of love.

But green has its modern connection to Echo/Ecco as well, since we often see the pairing of "green" and "eco."

gotta love that green sun there, eh?

We held our wedding at Bear Mountain, which encodes the B&M combo that is always familiar around here, but that wasn't the only interesting sync. There are four cabins at Bear Mountain (Beaver, Spring, Echo, and Summit) and we were going to rent one out. The closest one to the wedding site was Beaver, but I didn't want to tell people I was getting married at the Beaver lodge - just gives off the wrong vibe. I didn't like Summit, so we had to decide between Spring and Echo. "Spring" sounds nice, but a bit plain. I wondered if "Echo" was a bit too loaded.

Then, as we're making this choice, a guy on the street randomly hands me this book:

Suffice it to say, we chose "Echo"

And, there is another explanation to "Echo" besides that provided by Lilly. I recall that I had made a connection between The Green Man and reverberating sound. We had about 50 people at our wedding. Knowing us, it was probably 51.

I know this post is a little all over the place, but that's how it is. Our wedding was a wonderful celebration from the heart - and it overlapped with all these other intellectual pursuits. I don't wish to give the impression that I believe our day was controlled by John Lilly's ECCO or mushroom spores floating through space or anything else. Instead, I think that following a non-judgmental path of synchronicity we were able to recognize patterns even within our most special day. Honestly, there's just too many to recount here. But, that's the way Melissa and I have travelled together since we met. Never judging, always flowing, always loving.

On September 11th (boy is it cheap to fly that day) we leave for our HONEY-MOON in the fire-resonant land of Kali-Fornia.