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Jung’s own explanation of the concept of synchronicity is as follows:

" As its etymology shows, this term has something to do with time, or to be more accurate, with a kind of simultaneity. Instead of simultaneity we could use the concept of a meaningful coincidence of two or more events, where something other than the probability of chance is involved." (Synchronicity, An Acausal Connecting Principle, by C G Jung, from the article "On Synchronicity", Appendix, pg. 104)

What did Jung state about the chance occurrence of coincidences?

Jung had been studying synchronicity since the middle twenties, when he was investigating the phenomena of the collective unconscious and kept on coming across connections which he simply could not explain: "as chance groupings or ‘runs.’ What I found were ‘coincidences’ which were connected so meaningfully that their ‘chance’ concurrence would represent a degree of improbability that would have to be expressed by an astronomical figure." Synchronicity, An Acausal Connecting Principle, by C G Jung, pg. 21.

Did an insect fulfill a dream?

One of the synchronicity episodes that really intrigued Carl Jung occurred with a patient recounting her dream of a golden scarab beetle. A young woman that Jung had been treating told him of a dream in which she had been given a golden scarab. He was sitting with his back to a closed window while she told him the dream.

Suddenly he heard a gentle tapping and turned to see a flying insect knocking against the window-pane from outside. Jung opened the window and caught the creature in the air as it flew in. The insect closely resembled a golden scarab. In actuality it was a scarabaeid beetle, the common rose-chafer (Cetonia aurata).

Normally, such insects would not come into a dark room, but at the same moment the patient mentioned the beetle she had been given in her dream, this beetle appeared at Jung’s window. He was quite astonished at the coincidental timing and admitted that nothing like it ever happened to me before or since. Synchronicity, An Acausal Connecting Principle, by C G Jung ,Pg. 22.

Do dreams come true?

Another fascinating synchronicity story related by Carl Jung described a dream of a student friend that came true. His friend’s father had promised him a trip to Spain if he passed his final examination. His friend was so excited about his upcoming trip that he began to dream about being in Spain. He saw himself walking through a Spanish city in a street that led to a square with a Gothic cathedral. He then turned a corner, into another street where he saw an elegant carriage drawn by two cream-coloured horses. When Jung’s friend woke up, he told a group of companions at dinner about the dream. Shortly afterwards, he successfully passed his examinations, and went to Spain. While he stood on one of the streets, he recognized the city of his dream. He was astonished to find the square, the cathedral, and the carriage with the two cream-coloured horses. Everything he saw in real life exactly corresponded to the dream images. Synchronicity, An Acausal Connecting Principle, by C G Jung, pg. 106.

http://occult-advances.org/nc-spi-Synchronicity-strange-coincidence-conspiracy.shtml

For a while, i've preferred quietly bowing out to dramatic public announcements, not wanting to endlessly retire like an aging rock band. But now, a solid three years into the exciting creation and invitation of theis forum into being, i'm stepping down formally, from any inolvement with 7fatcow, unconvinced that it exists at all.

No bitterness. Dissapointment would imply expectations, and all my hopes and expectations for this blog where satisfied right away, constantly, along with all my concerns and suspicions, re: the inevitably difficult nature of True Expression and Engagement. That was understood from the beginning to be OK. Sometimes, when you talk with people, a lot of bullshit comes out as cushion for any insight and genuine heart-of-self that might be revealed, and that condition was understood from the beginning: along with the genius in our wider community of not-quite-ex/not-quite-ohs is a multitude of protective layer of ego and dogma; of noise and principle, of assumption and of flawed language, furious at the implication that it must be probed to be understood. That's OK, as much as any of the troublesome nature of our world is to be called OK, it's part of who we have been, and how we have expressed.

All that said, it's boring now, because maybe we've gone as far as any of us wanted to go. One of our founding members has moved beyond interest in the conversation here, as a funner life beckoned where the wit was expresseable and the company close enough that trying to blog in a noise filled room of cheesy links and ironically repressive vulgarity became uncompelling, especially once the Twitter and Facebook Status update was given unto us, to let the impulse sound more immediately, without need for context, or consensus. And so, the chance to say just a few things here was all he needed.

Another founding member has tried to give up so many times, and the clamor of each dramtic farewell, combined with the unelaborated links and occasional disavowels of entire identities for fear of Who May Be Listening, and Who May Be Judged along with him, often prevented the depth of his insight from being expressed. He erased all his posts, psuedonym after psudonym, and tried to convince somebody that he was somebody, and not actually somebody. And in that noise, his genius is silenced, and a certain unconfrontational decadence tried to grow around him; alas, woe unto those who think their sacrifices will provide security, money, or love.

And around that, behind that, so much genius was expressed.  Zoroastro/IslamoYid's and Atgate231's Scholarship, Class and Humor, Shitalpin's withering and ultimately humanist hot/cold sarcasm-masking-authenticity, Hashemsucksdick's marriage of post-religious concience and artistry, Mohammed's strange and shocking form of concience, Anivaho's Mercurial genius to let words permute into sublime association (even as any conceit towards divine synchronicty was despaired of) Yalhak's Majestic magnimamity and wholeness of vision/purity of impurity of perspective (along with the  lucid clarity of Yesod, Aisav, and the other maaminim he brought) and the writers we never even really identified, who bought so much class, genius, and perfect kvetchery to the conversation (who was Hiavrom anyway? he was brilliant! I hope he's OK.)

All the Neo-Nazis who stopped by to let us now what was going on, all the feminists and fetishists, all the excited Chabadskers, all the grieving relatives– so much got circulated, and maybe so little was heard, who knows? who knows. Who knows how much we ever hear from each other that we weren't ready to chap. But I feel like a lot of rare expression and relative taboo was aired here, and i'm really proud of that. As proud as one can be of something that one just let happen.

All the martyrs and all the victims; all the heroes and all the wimps. All the Faggotry and all the ugly, ugly Charedi shock-porn. All the piety and simple faith. Everything but the bullshit, and the noise, and the hiding of ourselves inside of our conceptions. It really has been a great ride, and I can only pray that some of this survivesinto the annals ofHistory, the story of how the Jewish Problem was, if only for a moment, touched upon, if not successfully adressed, from within, rather than just from without. God bless you all, to move on, and see how easy it is just to start up a crazy fucking conversation in this great, wide future of accessible interests, may we one day merit to see it to it's end.

Shana Tov, and i'll see you at the Jubilee

Yoseph Leib,

AKA Yhosephus,

AKA the guy that fucked your sister, back when she was still cute.

This letter was sent by the Rebbe Reb Bunim to one of his Chasidim who couldn’t make to him for the holiday. It was also signed by some of his other Chasidim as well as Reb Bunim’s son Avraham Moshe.

Sunday, Ki Savo, 1826 – here in Pershuschah.

Life, peace and joy to his honor, the friend of my soul and heart, the brilliant and sharp rabbi of renown, the perfect sage, his name is known at the gates, his honored name, our teacher the Rabbi Alexander Ziskind, may his light shine.

Since it is a number of years (until the coming of the Redeemer) that ‘the honor of his torah’ resides within the chamber of my heart, and is a friend in the hidden reaches of my thoughts’ legacy, I will speak this time as to my own heart.

It is written (II Kings, 4:13) “I dwell in the midst of my people” and it is written (Jeremiah 31:3) “God appeared to me from afar” – and this is the secret of Rosh Ha-Shanah. The joy and the anxiety are concealed in fear (ha-simchah ve-ha-da’agah musteres be-pachad) may god grant us both together. The understanding grows from the deed; for the deed is “mystery” and the understanding is “light,” and they resemble each other (ha-binah tigdal me-ha-ma’asah ki ha-ma’asah “raz” (=207) ve-ha-binah “or” (=207) ve-sh’neihem domim).

And bless God, who has preserved and sustained us, that we rise in remembrance before the Lord of all, so that perhaps it arouse mercy to take us from darkness to light. With God’s help, ‘the honor of his torah’ will not be forgotten from our hearts and from the hearts of all the members of our group, for a good remembrance. And may God in His mercy give him joy and life and a “writing and sealing of good” to him and his household and his entire city.

Thus the words of his soul and heart which yearns with love,

Simchah Bunim.

We too, his loved ones and friends, seek his welfare with love and may the blessing of our Rabbi (may he live) be fulfilled and may we merit to hear from him good tidings and rejoice together always, with his soul and the souls of his friends,

The small one, Yitzchak of Zarik (Vorker Rebbe)

The small one, Yitzchak Meir (Chidushey Ha-Rim)

The small one, Menachem Mendel of Tomishov (Kotzker Rebbe)

Meir Kvaller

R. Yaakov Vorker (Radzminer Rebbe) and R. Shlomo Zalshiner indicate his welfare as they are in the middle of praying.

I, the young one, too seek his welfare and I ask of him that he preserve this letter and bring it with him, god willing, when he travels here and then we shall study it together in an in-depth seminar.

The words of his beloved friend, the small one,

Avraham Moshe

-atgate231

I was going to write a poem while walking on Eastern Parkway but chanced upon a Psalm when I suddenly found myself outside the Rebbe's room.Forget the poem, David's way better…

PSALM 88

1 1 A song; a psalm of the Korahites. For the leader; according to Mahalath. For singing; a maskil of Heman the Ezrahite. 2 LORD, my God, I call out by day; at night I cry aloud in your presence. 3 Let my prayer come before you; incline your ear to my cry. 4 2 For my soul is filled with troubles; my life draws near to Sheol. 5 I am reckoned with those who go down to the pit; I am weak, without strength. 6 My couch is among the dead, with the slain who lie in the grave. You remember them no more; they are cut off from your care. 7 You plunged me into the bottom of the pit, into the darkness of the abyss. 8 Your wrath lies heavy upon me; all your waves crash over me. Selah 9 Because of you my friends shun me; you make me loathsome to them; Caged in, I cannot escape; 10 my eyes grow dim from trouble. All day I call on you, LORD; I stretch out my hands to you. 11 3 Do you work wonders for the dead? Do the shades arise and praise you? Selah 12 Is your love proclaimed in the grave, your fidelity in the tomb? 13 Are your marvels declared in the darkness, your righteous deeds in the land of oblivion? 14 But I cry out to you, LORD; in the morning my prayer comes before you. 15 Why do you reject me, LORD? Why hide your face from me? 16 I am mortally afflicted since youth; lifeless, I suffer your terrible blows. 17 Your wrath has swept over me; your terrors have reduced me to silence. 18 All the day they surge round like a flood; from every side they close in on me. 19 Because of you companions shun me; my only friend is darkness.

 Look at his eyes.

06/06/09 10:36 PM ET

NEW YORK — Alex Rodriguez gave a group of children the memory of a lifetime on Saturday. Rodriguez spent his evening managing a Little League team from the Bronx, giving those kids an experience they likely will never forget.

I was going through the categories that we have on this site and it hit me, at how we have the most random, off the wall, out of nowhere and  insane categories around.

Up through the ashes of Babylon, Cannibus Chassidus shall rise — Jah!

'Tis spring after all….

Batter my heart, three-personed God, for you 

As yet but knock, breathe, shine, and seek to mend; 

That I may rise, and stand, o'erthrow me, and bend 

Your force to break, blow, burn, and make me new. 

I, like an usurped town, to another due, 

Labour to admit you, but Oh, to no end. 

Reason, your viceroy in me, me should defend, 

But is captived, and proves weak or untrue. 

Yet dearly I love you, and would be loved fain, 

But am betrothed unto your enemy: 

Divorce me, untie or break that knot again, 

Take me to you, imprison me, for I, 

Except you enthrall me, never shall be free, 

Nor ever chaste, except you ravish me. 

- John Donne, Holy Sonnets, XIV

Here is the torah from R. Heinich Alkesander I posted two years ago about Matan Torah being an act of rape.

http://7fatcow.com/2007/05/22/shvuos-torah-from-atgate231/

 

So "7FATCOW" was the first to break the story of "the-trial-of-the-millennium" between Dov & Woody - pix, interviews, even T-shirt sales. http://7fatcow.com/2009/04/29/we-are-giving-away-free-woody-allen-rebbe-t-shirts/#comment-31983

But now when Dov suddenly chickened out & paid out of his ass for more than an actual me'aneys would pay for trenning Rebbetzin Soon-Yi (as if anyone would want to) — suddenly the activists for free speech & farshpreyten chasidic vibe on the L.E.S. are shah-shitl. Not a peep out of them.

There are still many questions to be answered in this anti-climactic case, most notably, WHY DID DOV PULL OUT (of the case, that is)???

Also, is he even paying the 5 mill, or is his insurance company???

& many more questions.

We all hoped for a majestic "Didan Notzach." But these fraye yidden, they have no mesiras nefesh, no emuneh in their heiliker rebbes or that "Yad hachasidim al ho'elyoynah." It's all just about fucking Mamon. (Come to think of it, not unlike some chasidishe hoyfn these days).

But I can understand Dov's dilemma somewhat: Can you imagine the Lubavitcher Rebbe suing Dovid Nachshon for putting up a picture of Him under the words "Der heiliker Moshiach"???

PS: Will anyone wearing the T-shirts also be sued by Woody?