AUTHOR’S NOTE: Originally part 2 was twice as long, but I decided to split it in half—so now this will be part 2 of a 4-part series, originally written during 2023 in the weeks and months leading up to the December release of Paul King’s Wonka, starring Timothée Hal Chalamet.
“Invention, my dear friends, is 93% perspiration”
Now that we have set the stage, we can begin to draw a more expanded picture. For unbeknownst to the world’s many Wonka-heads, in addition to the two films so-far covered and the upcoming Wonka, there is in fact a secret fourth movie that concerns Willy Wonka. It’s secret because even though it has been out for a decade, it does not officially exist as such—its Wonka narrative is masked.
The keys to the secret can be found summarized in a YouTube video posted on 10/1/2018 by the channel Rhino Stew, titled “Why SNOWPIERCER is a sequel to WILLY WONKA AND THE CHOCOLATE FACTORY.”
That would be Bong Joon-Ho’s intense, violent 2013 film Snowpiercer, set in a dystopian future where, instead of global warming, a new ice age was brought on by the spraying of aerosols into the atmosphere (the opening title names the gas in question as CW-7, which features a prominent W (23) followed by 7) and humanity’s only survivors live on a train called Snowpiercer, powered by a perpetual motion machine, endlessly circling the icy globe. The imposed class structure of the Train serves as metaphor for the pyramid-scheme that is life on earth presently: one man sits at the front of the train, reaping the benefits of all that sits behind him, an engine maintained, it turns out, by the sweat of young children from the back of the train. This man is Wilford, whose first initial is stamped on the engine in a familiar way to someone looking for Wonka cues. The plot of the film sees a man eating the bugs at the rear of the train journey his way toward the Engine in order to fulfill his destiny of ultimately replacing Wilford at the head of the train.
Starting to sound familiar?
According to Rhino Stew’s theory, the story goes that Charlie Bucket—who took over Willy Wonka’s factory in 1971—used Uncle Willy’s advanced technology to create the Snowpiercer train and survive the icy apocalypse with a cross-section of humanity, as well as the Oompa Loompas, indispensable in their tiny duties running the Engine, who when ultimately dispensed with by time, were replaced by children of a certain size from the back of the train. The implications of this set-up for the real world which it fictionally reflects are grim to say the least. Wilford is played by Ed Harris, and he does resemble the young Charlie, and in Snowpiercer, Wilford does seem to be carrying out the same playbook laid down by Willy Wonka: nearing retirement, he and his sneaky partner Gilliam (note W-G), played by the great John Hurt as the doppelgänger of Wonka’s bespectacled assistant “Slugworth”), devise a plan to filter out applicants to be his replacement at the front of the train.
The theory is sound. Snowpiercer does seem to act as a spiritual sequel to Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory (or at least a re-enactment of the Willy Wonka tropes), unnoticed by everyone when it first appeared. The correspondences are many and can be studied at your leisure. We at Crypto-K take a different angle on it. If there is a true synchronistic correspondence between these two films (as opposed to superficial, forced, or “fanciful”) then it will be borne out by the temporal relationship between the two: in the way that the first appearances of each were etched into the permanent ledger of history.
So we get down to the business of laying it all out.
“Eternal order is prescribed by the sacred Engine: all things flow from the sacred Engine, all things in their place, all passengers in their section, all water flowing.”
Snowpiercer premiered to the world in South Korea (note SK) on 7/29/2013. Immediately it seemed appropriate to check the interval between this day and the premiere of the original Willy Wonka—released the same day Elon Musk was born, remember. By the way, if any human being alive were capable and inclined to design and market something like the ride on Snowpiercer to survive a new ice age, who would it be? Who would have the resources and influence to…? No, not S.R. Hadden (also played by John Hurt, come to think of it), but close. Might he also design to go along with it an elaborate public contest to deal out the Golden Tickets to Ride?
Anyway, the time from the premiere of Willy Wonka and the birth of Elon Musk to the world premiere of Snowpiercer, its secret sequel, actually amounts to just over 42 years—but we can do better than that. Crypto-K is about specifics, so, how about this: between these two films elapsed exactly 2196 weeks.
Here’s a number that stands out within our boundaries, because 2196 is exactly 2 x 1098, important because it is the sum of the first four Seals of Crypto-K.
2196 = 1098 + 1098
1098 = 42 + 153 + 237 + 666
So, Snowpiercer premiered two spans of 42 + 153 + 237 + 666 weeks after the day Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory premiered and Elon Musk first drew breath.
That’s pretty amazing in itself, but after discovering this, the literal next instinct was to check how old Johnny Depp was when his version of Willy Wonka premiered in cinemas. IMDB has 7/10/2005 to be the Hollywood premiere of Charlie & the Chocolate Factory.
Q: How old was Johnny Depp on the day Charlie and the Chocolate Factory premiered?
A: 2196 weeks!!
Yes, the exact same length of time as between Willy Wonka and Snowpiercer—twice the first Four Seals.
You might want to get up and walk around for a bit after getting that. We did, anyway.
To re-capitulate, the same (42 + 153 + 237 + 666) x 2 week span exists:
between the premiere of Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory on the day Elon Musk was born and the premiere of Snowpiercer, its secret sequel, and
between the birth of Johnny Depp and the premiere of his own Willy Wonka film, Charlie & the Chocolate Factory.
A conspicuous concatenation of concurrent coincidence, indeed.
Here’s what we know so far, visualized with fancy arrows and colors and stuff:
Immediately a few unspoken details appear out of the pure visual algebra. If the time between Willy Wonka and Snowpiercer is equal to the time between Johnny Depp’s birth and his version of Willy Wonka’s premiere (and it is), then the time between the births of Depp and Musk must be the same as between Snowpiercer and Charlie & the Chocolate Factory.
The graphic also gives up more potential mid-points to consider—Depp-to-Charlie and Wonka-to-Snowpiercer and Charlie-to-Snowpiercer. And we know that there is one date which would be at the absolute mid-point of the entire configuration, the center of the cyclone. What might that contain? It will be awhile before we arrive there, but if you’re interested, read on.
We also know that the time between the premiere of Willy Wonka and premiere of Charlie must be whatever amount is 420 weeks less than 2196.
As it happens, 2196 - 420 = 1776, the missing Fifth Seal from sum 1098.
Yes, this means that 2196, while being (42 + 153 + 237 + 666) x 2, also exists as the sum of 420 + 1776. In other words when you add together the first Four Seals and then double it, you get the First plus the Fifth. And this expression of digits precisely frames the lives of these strange, famous men, and a bespoke relation to the character of Willy Wonka.
Also, this means that in addition to being high celeb-society buddies and sharing wives, Elon Musk was exactly 1776 weeks old the day Johnny Depp’s performance as Willy Wonka premiered.
Now it’s just getting downright weird.
Here is this so-called Wonka-Matrix now:
Observe the symmetry here. Structure has taken form. This is more than mere synchronicity—this is Crypto-K. There is something going on here, something that is positively unnatural about all this, unless these numbers and events appearing like this is part of some as yet hidden natural process, an unknown quality of the number-field as it relates to the human perceptual apparatus. But is it? That’s what we’re trying to understand.
The thing to do is examine these relationships in greater detail: turn the focus on the Crypto-K microscope, particularly onto those question marks, which are mid-points of interest. There are Five mid-points to find here between Four different dates, one of which we have already explored in part 1, leaving Four to find before this Matrix can be considered fully excavated.
Grab your sync-shovels (painted gold, no doubt). We will look at them all in reverse chronological order.
“I believe it is easier for people to survive on this train if they have some level of insanity.”
We know now that there were 420 weeks between the premieres of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory and Snowpiercer, just like there were 420 weeks between the births of Johnny Depp and Elon Musk (or the day Willy Wonka premiered).
The mid-point 210 weeks after Charlie and before Snowpiercer landed on 7/19/2009. In the history of that day we find the occurrence of an apparent asteroid impact on Jupiter, which caused a massive black spot to appear in the planet’s atmosphere even visible from Earth, an impact reportedly thousands of times more powerful than what occurred on Earth at Tunguska. It was first noticed by an astronomer named Anthony Wesley, and hence it became known as the Wesley Impact. Note that Wesley and Wonka share one (at this point rather conspicuous) letter. But what’s more, both films are W-Impacts (for Wonka or Wilford), or releases of W-themed media hitting the public consciousness the way they say an asteroid impacted Jupiter. The main photo on the impact’s current Wikipedia page (seen below) is captioned as having been taken by the Hubble space telescope on 7/23/2009. Rare local solar system phenomena are of high interest when examining history through a synchronistic lens due to their low probability—and especially when it concerns Jupiter, the planet of synchronicity, and the location of the final act of Kubrick’s 2001: A Space Odyssey (“Jupiter and Beyond the Infinite”—note how its astro-glyph is a stylized 42).
But strangely simultaneous with this chance occurrence in our local solar system on 7/19/2009 was the TV premiere that night of the second and final part of a disaster miniseries called Meteor starring Christopher Lloyd and Jason Alexander, a fictional tale about a real-life asteroid called 114 Kassandra (that’s Cassandra with a K) raining meteoric death upon the Earth. So, this means that the very same night that Anthony (Tony) Wesley noticed the large asteroid impact on Jupiter, millions of people were watching a TV movie about a large asteroid impact on Earth (starring a guy best known for his role as time-traveller Doc Brown in Back to the Future, and also the guy who played George Costanza). What’s that all about?
Notice anything about that number 114? It makes an appearance in multiple Kubrick films, first in Dr. Strangelove as the CRM-114 Discriminator, a radio signal decoder the bomber pilots use to receive encrypted communications. 114 would show up again in A Clockwork Orange as Serum 114, the name of the mind-control drug given to Alex during his social re-programming sessions. Why would Kubrick overlay these ideas with the same numeric code? Note that 1+1=2, making 114 also a sly reversed 42. But an even better way of associating 114 with 42 is through the Calendar. There are three dates out of the year which encode the number 114: 1/14, 10/14, and 11/4, and from 1/14 to 11/4 in any non-leap year is exactly 42 weeks. In some ways, the data of Crypto-K suggests that the Calendar is the “CRM114 Discriminator,” and also perhaps the means of “re-programming” the human being (Serum 114).
In the wake of Kubrick, a number of other films have employed “CRM-114” as a tribute, or homage, or something else. Probably the most famous of these is Back to the Future, where in the opening scene (right after the Director credit fades away) Marty McFly tries out Doc Brown’s massive guitar amplifier, which first requires turning on via a key labeled CRM-114. It’s almost like Zemeckis is acknowledging that he (as his avatar Marty McFly) is stepping up to the plate to chow down on what the Doc has been serving, also known as Serum 114—here it’s the Stuff that turns you into a Rock Star. When he strikes a chord on his CRM-114 amplified guitar, Marty McFly is cartoonishly blown back by the electro-acoustic current that emanates from the speaker, his approving line, “rock and roll!” indicating exactly where this scene falls on the spectrum of tropes. It also demonstrated what Zemeckis and crew were about to do (using Kubrick’s ‘device’) to the viewing public’s minds that summer of 1985 with their predictive-programmed, time-travelling blockbuster. Later the idea is driven home that Marty McFly actually brought the idea of “rock and roll” to the past, inspiring a young Chuck Berry in the band to see Marty’s performance of himself from the future! Thus in Back to the Future the CRM-114 amplifier directly relates to the creation of a time-looped rock-and-roll moebius strip where the culture that influenced and transformed society in the 20th century actually emanated from a signal coming from the future, or it could be that it was created and promoted by certain people or persons taking cues from the future to influence the present.
Sure, whatever, but how does ‘rock and roll’ relate to Christopher Lloyd’s appearance in Meteor? Well, both the planet Jupiter in real life and the Earth on TV that day were struck by flying rocks—in other words both these stories are instances of Planets (which in Gnostic cosmologies are our known as our 7 Local Rulers or Archons) are being “rocked and rolled” by flying rocks (meteors). Right? In Meteor Lloyd plays a scientist who possesses information that could save the planet, but his character is killed off abruptly 27 minutes into the movie when he is mowed down by a speeding van. You really have to see this thing—the editors must have been hitting the crackpipe to meet their deadline. Note that the link is timestamped 1554 seconds into the movie, which is precisely where Lloyd’s death scene begins. That’s interesting because 1554 = 777 + 777, and ‘777’ is related to the ‘Lightning Strike,’ which is also of course, related to Lloyd’s turn in Back to the Future. You remember your foundational sync texts, don’t you? The Lightning strikes the Clock Tower in order to power the Time Machine. Well, here, the scene that begins at 777 x 2 seconds has Christopher Lloyd gets rocked by a van doing 88 mph (presumably) with the number 7 on it, and dies in a bloody heap. Maybe these editors were on something other than crack?
The fact that Lloyd’s death scene begins an even 777 x 2 seconds into Meteor makes us want to make a parent-thesis of the film itself, and find out what the editors placed at the mid-point, or 777 seconds into the movie, which would be 12:57.
At 12:57 we are—surprise—looking at Christopher Lloyd in the passenger seat of the Blue Bronco that will be his final ride, answering a question. Here’s his line, and bolded is the moment where the 777th second ticks: “We were the only ones monitoring the initial impacts, so they’ll need our data to plot an intercept trajectory.” That is, the 777th second hits on the word impact, as though the 777 is the impact—or another reflection of what occurred on Jupiter that night, the “Wesley Impact.” Again, intention, or just coincidence because it’s a movie about impacts? Or if you don’t believe in coincidence, then it’s sync—the idea that our world conforms to a at times frustratingly uncertain underlying acausal ordering principle. Crypto-K politely suggests that this underlying principle may also be (or speak) a language that can be read and even understood if you know the grammar and syntax. And to quote Lloyd at 777 seconds again, maybe at some point “they’ll need our data to plot an intercept trajectory”—the data being PROJECT CRYPTO-K, the contents of this, and future articles. But fair warning, it’s generally not a good idea to stare too long at yourself in the Abyss, so let’s just move on from this one, heads down.
Yeah, so anyway, it’s all that which makes the presence (and out-of-nowhere death) of Christopher Lloyd in Meteor premiering on 7/19/2009 simultaneous with a real-life meteor impact on Jupiter at the exact mid-point between the premieres of Charlie & the Chocolate Factory and Snowpiercer even more hard to comprehend, whether explained by coincidence, synchronicity, or otherwise. As it happens, the real-world 114 Kassandra was discovered on 7/23/1871, exactly 138 or 69 + 69 years to the day before Hubble took the famous photograph of the Wesley Impact. Nice nice. It should also be noted that as of this writing a few weeks out from the release of Wonka, the Sun currently has what appears to be a gaping hole in its surface (otherwise known as a sunspot). In other words it would appear that charged events expressed in the visible appearance of local solar system bodies seem to cluster around the mid-points of these Wonka-based parent-theses. Now there’s a sentence no one before now has ever written (maybe for good reason). The film has still yet to release—so who knows what else the local electrical environment has in store for us until then?
Anyways, filling in the blanks now, moving right along.
There were 2196 weeks between the premiere of Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory and the premiere of its secret sequel Snowpiercer, which means that this mid-point sits exactly 42 + 153 + 237 + 666 weeks adjacent to either side: 7/13/1992.
Recall that Depp modeled his performance of Wonka partly on Michael Jackson. Well, here on this mid-point, we find that the real Michael Jackson released a single from his then-latest album Dangerous. A single has 2 sides, the A and B sides. The A-side of the single released on this mid-point was called “Who Is It,” while the B-side was called “Jam.” Let’s first note the painfully obvious Who that seems to follow us around. Who is it, is right—remember how The Who and Jimi Hendrix debuted in the USA on the Depp/Musk mid-point with their historic jam? Willy Wonka is still Dr. Who with a time machine. Dr. Who is a Time Lord, akin to Dr. Strange (they debuted the same year). They are all variations on The Wizard. Now, here we find Michael Jackson, whose existence forms a part of the DNA of one version of Willy Wonka, releasing a single with a “Who” pun in the title on the mid-point between Willy Wonka (Elon’s birth) and Snowpiercer.
Impressive, but what’s even more is that the B-side, “Jam,” is actually a song written for and about Michael Jordan, the other MJ. A post-Alien 3 David Fincher directed a music video for the song featuring a surreal moment of the two iconic MJs both at their peaks squaring off with Jackson teaching Jordan how to “Moonwalk"—the Two MJs are yet another instance of an uncanny doubling of bodies and personalities so different, and yet similar—arguably the two greatest Stars that ever lived—and that would be measured in of course, star power at their respective peaks, as well as pure talent and mastery of their respective crafts, where they are unmatched. And though he doesn’t wear it in this scene, what number was worn by Michael Jordan for most of his career? 23, of course. This means that both sides of the Jackson single released here contain synchronistic puns on the letter W or the number 23.
Widening the lens on the Crypto-K microscope here to 1 day forward or back (making it an inclusive 1098 weeks either way) provides additional grist for our mill, because 7/12/1992 happened to be the day that Roman Polanski’s film Bitter Moon saw its World Premiere in London. The presence of a Polanski premiere trips certain Crypto-K sensors such that it cannot go unmentioned, but the most direct tie of Bitter Moon to our Wonka matrix concerns its babyface lead actor, a pre-Four Weddings and a Funeral Hugh Grant, who now comes full circle in his own career in 2023 with his role as the “little orange man”—the Oompa-Loompa in Wonka. It seems like the role, and Grant’s publicity for it have been yet another episode of public humiliation for a man whose career is actually defined by it, and this energy is exemplified nowhere clearer than his role in Bitter Moon. In other words Hugh Grant seems Possessed by a Trope he cannot help but express, or be expressed by: the humiliated white man. Or in the case of Wonka, orange.
Bitter Moon is one more riddle among the many that comprise Polanski’s filmography, this one a dirty little story featuring Polanski’s wife Emmanuelle Seigner that seems as much autobiographical (clearly based to some degree on his relationship with Sharon Tate) as it does fantastical. Ultimately it might be said that Polanski is one Suspect in answer to the basic question implied by all of this stuff, a question posed outright in an underseen film The Pledge, host to one of Kubrick alumni Jack Nicholson’s last great performances: “Who is the Wizard?” Michael Jackson, one of the oddest men who ever lived, around whose life conspiracy theories sprouted like fungi, is surely another candidate. Or maybe Jack himself, such a close confidant of Polanski can be considered a suspect as well, hiding in plain sight. Remember it was Jack’s house and hot tub where Samantha Geimer had her close encounter with Polanski. His birthday, 4/22/37 certainly doesn’t help when written like that… 42/237? Recall that 2 x 3 x 7 = 42. And he’s the guy who goes into Kubrick’s Room 237? What’s this all about? What’s actually the meaning of this? Crucially, in The Pledge, Nicholson’s character never learns the answer to The Question (and neither does the viewer).
But another candidate can be found when you press forward 1 day to 7/14/1992, which saw the metal band Ministry release their album Psalm 69: The Way to Succeed and the Way to Suck Eggs. This title is a direct pull from the work of Aleister Crowley (specifically chapter 69 of The Book of Lies). Here we have another appearance of 69 (recall the discussion about it earlier), and a remarkable overlap: on one side we have Polanski’s sordid sex life being acted out in Bitter Moon, and then on the other side, we get a media premiere (the band’s masterpiece, it’s said) directly referencing Crowley, specifically a passage about sex magick. Of course, the 69 in Crowley’s chapter of The Book of Lies refers to the sex position, which is another reason why that number has so much cultural staying power. Crowley is another figure whose life as a personality in media radically expanded upon death, such that his presence now feels baked into the culture on a level that cannot be explained by material human action alone. And this is not the first time these two (Crowley and Polanski) have been found situated together in synchronistically resonant ways.
7/14/1992 also saw the death of a denizen of the squared circle, aka a pro wrestler whose ring name was Danny McShain. If you account for an Irish accent, his name might as well be “Danny McShine,” which could be a name for little Danny Torrance from The Shining. The further relevance of Danny McShain’s death will be revisited in part 3.
With both 420 week intervals done, now we must complete the second 2196 week interval by investigating the mid-point between the birth of Johnny Depp and the premiere of his performance as Willy Wonka.
But first... a note about the only span not marked with an arrow on the picture—you might have noticed it already—that being the time from Depp’s birth to the premiere of Snowpiercer, two things which ostensibly have nothing to do with one another. Often it’s the job of Crypto-K (and sync in general) to connect totally unrelated people and events together so tightly as to find them totally indistinguishable by the end. So here’s how it fits.
The time from Johnny Depp’s birth to the premiere of Snowpiercer amounts to 420 weeks more than 2196, aka 2616 weeks, a number which is twice 1308. Canceling the numerologically insignificant zero yields 138, which itself is twice 69. So there you go: whatever 69-based energy powering Johnny Depp (via his birthday on 6/9/63, 420 weeks before the premiere of Willy Wonka), also emanates evenly from the timespan between his birth and the premiere of Snowpiercer.
But reader, if that were all there was to this, we probably wouldn’t have mentioned it. There’s something else here which makes for some spooky reading. Read on to find out.
JOHNNY DEPP = JACK PARSONS = WHO IS IT / JAM (127)
WILLY WONKA = SNOWPIERCER (145)
(Standard English Gematria)
Research into synchronistic occurrences requires the investigator to scour the news and events on days that also yielded contextually relevant film premieres, such as Snowpiercer on 7/29/2013. By way of the Day-Before Principle, it was in searching The Day Before Snowpiercer’s premiere—7/28/2013—that the, for lack of a better word, magic asserted itself.
On 7/28/2013, a man named Robert Hoagland went missing. He was last seen mowing the lawn, but failed to show up for work the next morning. He would not be seen again by anyone that knew him. What makes this more than just a missing persons case? For starters, one interesting fact is that Robert Hoagland lived and worked in and disappeared from Sandy Hook, Connecticut, which had been the setting of the Sandy Hook Elementary School Shooting 7 months (and 2 weeks) earlier on 12/14/2012.
Life went on without Robert Hoagland, but the story takes a turn 9 years later on 12/5/2022 when a man named Richard King was found dead in his home in New York state. Further investigation revealed that the dead Richard King was, in fact, Robert Hoagland, the man who disappeared from Sandy Hook 1 week, 4 months, and 9 years earlier (1 x 4 x 9 being the dimensions of the Monolith).
You might have done a double-take when you originally read the name here if you are familiar with the NASA-critic and solar-system conspiracy theorist Richard Hoagland (famous for his promotion of the “Face on Mars” in the 1990s)—but it was not that Richard Hoagland, no, Robert Hoagland—but if so, now a quadruple take might be in order, because Robert Hoagland became Richard in his alternate life! How deep and how many are the levels of correspondence in this mad psychic funhouse? It just goes on and on.
In an interview after his death, Hoagland/King’s “roommate” David, told the press “I just want people to know there was nothing strange about his life… other than the fact that he was able to disappear for nine years.” Right, nothing strange at all, except for that really strange thing, and as we are demonstrating, that’s not the only thing strange about the guy’s life. It’s complete and utter speculation, but could this guy’s disappearance have been related to the Sandy Hook school-shooting operation that just wrapped up? Who knows, right?
Anyway, other than being a weird story about a guy who was apparently professionally hoovered out of Sandy Hook 7 months after the shooting, whose disappearance occurred the day before Snowpiercer premiered (in South Korea), how does this relate to the time between Johnny Depp’s birth and Snowpiercer? Well, take a look at the birthday of this Robert Hoagland: 6/9/1963.
Take a look again at the 4-way picture. Compare the dates. Yes, you’re reading it right. Look it up yourself if you want. Robert Hoagland was born the exact same day and year as Johnny Depp, and so he and Depp were exactly the same age (420 + 2196 weeks) on the day that Hoagland disappeared and Snowpiercer premiered—which was the first day of his ‘new’ life as Richard King. So here, on the day Snowpiercer premiered, a man from Sandy Hook born the same day as Johnny Depp (who played Willy Wonka) went underground and assumed the name of Richard King.
There are different ways of interpreting a sync, or of determining whether or not something even is a sync, or if it is evidence of conspiracy, or even the more morally hazardous word: ritual. The latin root of ‘conspiracy’ means “to breathe together,” so in effect all of us are engaging in a conspiracy with every breath we take. Whether we realize it or not, the world is being organized around the collective output of our individual wills, but those wills are of course subject to influence by normal every day human forces, as well as by forces present science does not recognize as existing at all, but which Crypto-K analysis seems to strongly imply are real in some form. In other words, whether or not this is a sync, or actually some kind of subliminal King Kill ritual enacted by a global media cult, it’s evidence of something at work beyond chance coincidence: evidence of design, whether on the part of the humans involved or on the part of some greater entity that is operating through us all.
With his final, true death on 12/5/2022, Robert/Richard Hoagland/King and his birthday twin Johnny Depp were both the same age: 153 + 237 weeks past 19000 days. This is Crypto-K so we say 153 + 237, but if we were aboard Richard Hoagland’s Enterprise Mission, it would be enough to say 390 weeks, because 390 is twice 195, and thus reflective of the key degree at which NASA typically plans their space-launches and landings, which according to Hoagland are more akin to ritual than anything else. Hoagland pinpoints 19.5 and 39.0 degrees as the Earth plane tetrahedral high-spots, interesting since 195 is otherwise pinpointed by Crypto-K for being the number found between 153 and 237 in the “+ 42” addition sequence from part 1: 153 + 42 = 195 and 195 + 42 = 237. It seems Mr. Hoagland was on to something—or we all are.
OK, that’s for any of you who noticed that missing arrow, and wondered how it might relate (or if it would be mentioned it at all).
Now back to our regularly scheduled Wonka-Matrix.
The exact mid-point of the 2196 week span between Depp (& Hoagland)’s birth and the premiere of Depp’s Willy Wonka movie comes to 6/24/1985, but the major sync headline of note arrived the day after, on 6/25, the day which saw the release of Prince’s career defining album Purple Rain. We just finished discussing Depp’s relationship with a guy who took the name King. Now we find Prince. But the keyword here is Purple, because recall that Willy Wonka in both versions is seen almost exclusively in his purple silk jacket. Prince in his Purple Rain period would almost seem to be rocking the stylebook laid down by Willy Wonka, and they both seem in line with what Jimi Hendrix (in his “Purple Haze”) had done fashion-wise in the late 1960s. And with Prince we have yet another instantiation of the rock star trope, and actually one of the rare musical stars on the level of a Jackson or Hendrix, talent- and brand-wise (not to mention suspicious death-wise), and this is his most well-known album, his masterpiece, his Dark Side of the Bitter, Purple Moon.
Dozens of songs were recorded and considered for the final track-list of Purple Rain, but one song in particular that was recorded but did not make the final cut is called “Possessed”— this is also the name of a film that was released on the day Kubrick turned 19 and Truman signed the National Security Act, but more on that some other time. After 7 minutes of Prince’s “Possessed,” a voice-over plays most out of place in tone, reciting the words, “Have you ever had the feeling that someone was tearing you up / Into little bitty pieces and contemplating selling you for a jigsaw puzzle?” and then it ends with the repeated lines, “someone’s in my body / someone’s in my box.” The weirdness of these lines concerns something that was said all the way back at the beginning of part 1: “Before a puzzle can be put together, first all the pieces must be dumped out on the table.” Note that a puzzle usually comes out of a box. Quite literally we have been selling to you, the reader, Prince (and other stars of screen and stage, rock and rollers one and all, and really, all of us, because as “Aiwass” (not Crowley) proclaimed, “every man and every woman is a Star”) as all being pieces of one grand jigsaw puzzle, and here’s no less than the man himself, Prince, seeming to speak from beyond the door through Crypto-K technology, actively agreeing with it.
This is what we mean by occasionally referring to Media itself as Haunted or Possessed, and that it can speak directly to you momentarily, or become the vehicle for transmission between yourself and an otherworldly force (which may after all simply be the spirits of the dead).
Looking at the pictograph here and now, it is more apparent than ever that the unexplored mid-point between the two Wonka movie premieres is also the mid-point between everything else on the map. The four corners of the map as well as their mid-points all converge in the middle of the 1776 week span between the premieres of Willy Wonka and Charlie & the Chocolate Factory.
This makes the day at the center of this Wonka cyclone one big question mark, actually, big enough that instead of revealing it right away, we should let the suspense build. Part 3 will answer that question, after another considerably synchronistic detour forced on us by the facts of space and time.
Of course, publishing this in 4 parts instead of 3 means that you’ll have to avoid ruining the suspense by looking it up yourself (which you could have done already, anyway). Yes, you could look up the mid-point between the birth of Elon Musk and the premiere of Charlie & the Chocolate Factory on your own and try to figure out what we’re going to say in advance, but please just wait, OK? Part 3 will be up in a few days.
Excellent writing Alex and insanely genius and genuine. I thought I'd share with you a few possibly pertinent thoughts I jotted down while reading your article.
On 1 May 1776 Johann Adam Weishaupt founded the "Illuminati"
Also 777; 7 looks like the 6th letter in the Hebrew alphabet, vav, making it numerically 666.
Think about The Bible Code verified by the Royal Institute for Statistics.
About "Posessed", Pink Floyd's song Watch Out For That Axe Eugene off the double album Ummagumma has the line "I'm going to cut you into little pieces!" said with the same voice that came out a year later on Black Sabbath's Iron Man, "I am Iron Man!"
Luciferian Mathematical Puppetry