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Journey To Russia: The Dawn Of Snowfrica.

What Russia looks like to Americans

The 1st 33rd parallel tour kicked off with the boys meeting in Shinjuku, Tokyo way before we had to.

“You got everything, man?” I asked with extreme skepticism. Benjamin, not only had all his shit, but apparently all of someone else’s as well.

“What do you have in that bag?” The bag was just a little bigger than Ben. Visually bigger than both my bags put together. I suspect he used a Goetian demon to grant him the strength to carry it.

“Just my clothes, a camera, mayonnaise, suntan lotion, saltine crackers, blah, blah, blah,” Benjamin said. He could have just said a lot of shit, but I did make the mistake of asking the question in the first place. “I’m going to carry it on to the plane.”

Sure you will, I thought. I’m younger than Ben, but have been on considerably more flights in my life, and never, I mean never, has any airline allowed me, or anyone, to carry a bag this size onto the plane. Even when the aircraft was practically empty. Of course they wouldn’t let this generic soda water bring his behemoth of a bag on board a full passenger plane during the holidays? But more on this later.

We got on the Narita express and headed over to the airport. We had a special flight with a special airline, Aeroflot.

Aeroflot, is a Russian airline that is the official airline of Manchester United. A relationship that works great for Aeroflot, and works well for Manchester United. The airline makes its bones by channeling international flights through Moscow. Which is about as comfortable as it sounds. But we will get to that later as well.

The fun started at the airport check-in, where our tickets, purchased through me, were issued to us, with my name, by the Aeroflot staff.

“Are you checking in that bag?” The lady asked Benjamin as he let the oversized Sasquatch of a bag tumble down to the floor with a thunderous boom that echoed through the airport terminal. Somewhere a school of pigeons eating bread disperse into different directions into the sky.

“Yes. It’s my bag.” Ben said with all the shame most Caucasians do everything when it comes to rules. You see, rules for Caucasian people are nothing more than arbitrary guidelines. And no one knows this better than Ben. “I’d like to carry this bag onto the flight.”

I smiled. And to my surprise, so did airport staff.

“Place the bag on the scale please.” The check in staff attendant said as she typed away at her keyboard.

Ben, flexed his muscles as he just barely got his bag onto the scale. Which tapered all the way down as the numbers shot up like a rocket revealing the weight of his bag. The actual number? Doesn’t matter. Let’s just say it was a lot bigger than mine. Like twice the weight of both my bags combined. And guess what?

“Thank you Mr. Beardsley. Have a nice flight.” The check in staff attendant said.

Ben, picked his bag off the scale and dragged it away from the desk.

Now the check in staff turned her attention to me. I had two bags with a combined weight of less than half of Ben’s one bag. In fact, one of my bags tipped the scales at 2 kilos. Yet, this lady looked me in the eye when I told her that I wanted to take these bags with me onto the plane and said.

“You’re going to have to check in one of your bags.” The check in staff said.

“Excuse me?” I asked in disbelief.

“You can only bring one bag onto the plane. So you have to check one of your bags.”

“But both of my bags combines amount to less than half of his and you let him carry his bag on.”

“I’m sorry sir, thank you for your cooperation.” She said as she pried the bag out of my hand, marked it, and placed it on the conveyor belt.

Walking away, dejected, Ben tapped me on the shoulder. “Lets go get some English Pound.”

We would be in England soon, after a brief layover in Russia.

I spent the plane ride to Russia watching the first half of the latest season of game of thrones. I tried to watch American Gods, but there was a problem, it sucked.

“This is really bad,” Ben said. He went on to watch most of season one as this is what you do when you don’t like a TV show.

Then suddenly, it happened. The world outside the plane became dark and a sudden change in the environment of the cabin could only be explained in one word, ominous. And another word; freezing.

“That’s weird,” Ben said as his breath became a smoky vapor as soon as he left his mouth.

I turned to the man sitting across the aisle from me. He was already dressed in his full winter set-up. Down jacket, scarf, gloves, broadsword, and crossbow.

He looked into my eyes and said with a bellowing voice. “Winter is coming.” Vapor coming out of his mouth as well.

That’s when we heard the announcement.

We will soon be landing in Moscow. Please fasten your seatbelt and prepare for landing. The current time in Moscow is 4pm. The current temperature is, who gives a fuck? It’s always cold.

I looked over at Ben and he was already dressed for the upcoming battle. Except, instead of a broadsword, Ben, had a magic wand.

“Where the fuck you had that?” I said.

“My carry on.” Ben said.

We were transferred from the plane, to a bus. The bus driver was standing outside of the bus wearing only a thing hooded jumper and his jeans. He watched in disgust as the passengers recoiled and withered in the Russian cold. Being sure to taunt each passenger as they entered the bus. We later learned that this time was the darkest time in Russia in quite some time. Which made total sense now that I think about it.

On the bus, we tumbled together toward Sheremetayo Airport.

“Where is the airport?” I said.

Ben, who had already drawn a circle of protection around us, pointed to a gigantic mountain in the distance with his magic wand.

“That’s it over there.” He said pointing at the mound of snow.

“There?!? That’s a fucking mountain, isn’t it?” I said.

“In Russia. All buildings are covered in snow.” Ben said. “This is Snowfrica!”

“Snowfrica?” I said. What the fuck is Snowfrica?”

“Russia is white Africa, remember? You figured it out. I don’t know how. Being all inferior intellectually and all.” Ben said. “But the people here call it Snowfrica.”

Snowfrica.” I said. “That makes so much sense.”

“Yes.” Ben said. “I’m a Snowfrican.”

I don’t know how, but it somehow became darker outside.

Next Week: Journey to West Snowfrica AKA England

Is someone (or something) tinkering with our memory?


Screen Shot 2017-04-03 at 5.20.12 PMRemember the pralines!

If you’re like most people, you don’t think about memory much at all. If you were to think of memory you might think of it working like a computer. You have an experience. The experience gets encoded and uploaded into your brain. Later you can retrieve it, or it can come back to you automatically, like Proust traveling back in time when he smelled that praline.

The fact is that science doesn’t know exactly how memory works. There is even debate about how malleable it is. Memory seems to play a key role in developing and maintaining social relationships, which are, in turn, essential to maintaining mental and physical health. Memory can be distributed between couples, within families, and throughout a larger culture.  In fact, as that last link shows, memories can be altered through social contagion, like when your mom tells you that that story you’ve been telling about that weird thing you did that one summer vacation actually belongs to your sibling, or when a whole group misremembers something. One thing we do know is that memory is falsifiable to an alarming degree.

OK, 33rd, I imagine hearing you say, that’s funny and everything, but where is the conspiracy in this? Well, you, I answer, I’m glad you asked.

Remember the Berenstain Bears syndrome, later named the Mandela effect? And how it has been debunked? One of our favorite topics here at 33 HQ is The Plot to Disrupt the Collective Consciousness (by agency or agencies unknown). I’m going to make the case that you, dear citizen, have been Operation Mindfucked.

Do you remember thinking how weird the “What color is the dress?” debate was? Like why is this even a thing? And then there was the popularization of the term “gaslighting“. But, you continue, dafuq do gaslighting, memory falsification, the Mandela effect and the color of that tacky ass dress have to do with each other?

Apophenia, Engage!

Gaslighting is a form of manipulation that seeks to sow seeds of doubt in a targeted individual or members of a group, hoping to make targets question their own memory, perception, and sanity. Using persistent denial, misdirection, contradiction, and lying, it attempts to destabilize the target and delegitimize the target’s belief.”
April 3, 2017

Around the water cooler in the 33 P office suite, we had long speculated on what possible benefit undermining people’s confidence in their own judgment might have if we were a sinister organization concerned only with power for power’s sake. And then, while researching the occult roots of Scientology we turned up this paper by the Godfather of hypnosis (and primary progenitor of NLP), Milton H. Erickson, MD.

In case you can’t be bothered to click on the links, I’ll paste the most relevant bit below, but first I am going to berate you for taking our word for anything. You should definitely realize that we are recklessly irresponsible in our storytelling and probably just a tad bit paranoid as hell. Still, suit yourself. Here is what the good doctor said about his famous confusion technique:

“In essence, it is no more than a presentation of a whole series of individually differing, contradictory suggestions, apparently all at variance with each other, differently directed, and requiring a constant shift in orientation by the subject…one may systematically build up a state of confusion …, until a retreat from the confusion by a complete acceptance of the suggestions of the moment becomes a greatly desired goal.”

It’s worth noting that the word here is “suggestions”, not “commands”. When they just tell us what to do, it’s easy for us to say some variation of “No, fuck off,” depending on the power dynamic. I might have more success if I was less direct and you were less wary. For example, if I were to tell you “buy a Coke,” you might agree, but if you disagree I am stuck with a power struggle and most likely no sale. I’ll have a better chance of selling you something if I say “would you prefer a Coke or a Pepsi?” in which case the suggestion is that you would like something to drink and that you will prefer one of the options over the other. Oversimplification is radically oversimplified but illustrative.

The Conspiracy

So here’s the conclusion we’ve come up with, based on pure paranoid guess work:

There is at least one invisible power which launched a concerted memetic attack on the collective consciousness of the English-speaking world, in order to radically disrupt culture and replace it with a more (unconsciously) obedient one.

Towards what ends, we can only speculate…

More on false memories in the pod.







The Jackson Pollock Mind Control Conspiracy


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As always with this stuff, it’s a good idea to bear in mind the credibility of the source, which, since this is coming to you hot from 33 HQ, is pretty questionable. That being said, a couple of pieces of information have come to our attention which we speculate about on the new 33 P podcast.

Here we’re just going to lay out the “facts” and let you be the judge.

Jackson Pollock was one of the most influential artists of the twentieth century. That his drip paintings had a huge impact on the art world is undeniable. Pollock’s splatter paintings show a unique fractal geometry, even though Fractals were first named in 1975, nearly two decades after Pollock’s untimely death in 1956.

At the height of the cold war between the United States and Russia, the CIA covertly promoted abstract impressionism, and Pollock in particular, as representative of the American ideals of freedom and self-expression, a jab aimed at psychologically destabilizing the repressive Soviet regime.  So the story goes.

It’s well known that the CIA conducted experiments on the American civilian population and developed a variety of subtle and/or hideous techniques for gaining and maintaining compliance in individuals and populations.

It is our assertion that the CIA was well ahead of the curve in terms of applied psychological manipulation and that they may have been aware of some of the effects that the art work they were unleashing on an unsuspecting populace. It is clear that the effect of the emergence of the abstract impressionist movement was disruptive to the art market. Is it possible that they were aware of a subliminal influence in Pollock’s art, and that they were out to destabilize more than just the art market and the Soviet State?

Sure. Anything is possible…on the 33rd Parallel.

Click the catch copy below for the podcast.


Can witchcraft stop a world leader?


It has come to our attention here at 33P that there is a rumor of a ritual to bind Donald Trump going around.

This got us wondering to what extent this could influence things. Obviously, magick isn’t rocket science, so we can only speculate based on precedent.  Does such precedent exist? Well, if you believe Gerald Gardener, the guy who brought us modern Wicca, yes it does.

According to Gardner, a group of English witches got together in 1940 and threw a bunch of mumbo-jumbo at Hitler.

Hardly conclusive, but every bit counts.

In the ancient world, competing gods were often evoked by both sides before a battle. The old testament is full of stories about gods being defeated by the superior magick of the people whose history was being told. Here’s a list of ways more modern folks have evoked the power of the occult in warfare.

Still more recently the 4channers (accidental/emergent) evocation of the “god” Kek is the stuff of internet legend.

In the ritualized mock combat we call sports it’s fairly common to pray before a match, with some teams going farther and evoking actual magick, with the Rwandan Soccer Federation going so far as to ban witchcraft because of some weird shit.

As modern rational people, we can’t help but recognize that magick is just a bunch of superstitious nonsense, right? But still, even if it’s just a strong nocebo we think it’s still worth a shot.

The Tao of Eschatology

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Remember that time that fungus head philosopher received revelation from the plant kingdom and used state of the art technology, the i-ching,  and the Mayan calendar to predict the eschaton? It was a simpler time when the BerenstEin bears were proudly displayed in bookstores, We Are The Champions ended with “of the world”,  and Han Solo shot first…  Oh. And the Revelation of the Great Day of God the Almighty hadn’t really kicked off yet. Those were the days.

“The Eschaton has a date: December 21, 2012.”

I’m pretty comfortable believing that that happened and the world actually did end. For a few reasons.

I’m pretty sure we’re in a different timeline now. One where the singularity has already happened, and the internet is the Messiah in its infancy.

But that’s just me. Other people have different ideas.

For people who subscribe to a more Abrahamic worldview, the One True God will come back to earth in a great revelation, followed by a messianic age of brotherhood, peace, and prosperity for all of the survivors.

This idea seems to have led some people to the conclusion that it’s a good idea to “immanentize the eschaton“, an idea co-opted and promoted by some Discordians in the 1970’s. Sometimes satire can be a dangerous thing. Like when you tell someone “Don’t get angry but…” Of course they’re going to get angry. Of course. You’ve totally primed them to do exactly what you don’t want. Similarly, if you tell them “Here’s a dystopian future we don’t want. We absolutely do not want this horrible world. Compelling, isn’t it?” We can’t help but drive towards whatever we are most focus on. And generations of cultural catastrophizing have brought us to this point in history, where a lot of folks seem to think the end of the world is upon us.

Now some of those people seem to be sewing the seeds of chaos while they prepare for the fallout.

I don’t know about you, but I can catastrophize pretty good. When things start looking bleak, it’s very easy for me to generate all the scenarios about how much worse it’s going to get. And then I can start telling myself stories about how horrible it all is, how inadequate to the situation I am, how nothing can be done and how much it was all shit anyway. And then I can just give up and shut down. Not because of what is happening, but because of the phantom mindstuff that I’m making up and then empowering.

So what’s to be done?

According to research, being mindful of what is really happening in and around you throughout the course of your day can have many benefits on your health and mental well-being, including better clarity, decision making and reaction time.

I studied a martial art under a Buddhist monk briefly. During that time, one of the many things he demonstrated that made a lot of sense to me was that there are two kinds of things, things that you can affect and things that you can’t. When you can, it is beneficial to be fully present and engaged, and when you can’t do anything, it is better to do nothing.

If there is, in fact,  a war on consciousness happening, the way to win is to not be moved.

So here’s what I’d rather see myself doing: breathe, ground yourself, be gently aware, let go of what you can’t affect and do what you can.

We’re curious to learn if you have any strategies you find particulary useful for keeping yourself focused and responsive when things look bleak. Please feel free to share! We’re always happy to develop better resources.


Are Corporations Demonic Egregores?


Like other living organisms, corporations strive to survive. They require energy in the form of money, labor, and other resources in order to sustain themselves. Unless they receive a fresh and constant flow of energy they tend to stagnate, diminish and die off. Of course, they have no material bodies of their own and must still rely on humans to maintain them, to feed them, to be their physical circulatory system and to host them within their minds.

So how does a disincarnate entity like a corporation get humans to feed it with their energy?

Similar to the way an angler fish has evolved a dangling light to attract prey, the corporation has evolved branding to capture the attention and activate the imagination of you, the consumer.

Corporations hack into the human psyche via the basic human operating system: symbols, in the form of brand names, logos, image, and story.

It runs deeper than simple hunting and consuming. A successful corporation is one that can maintain and milk its target. They have evolved a variety of strategies for doing this. By being the only provider filling a “need” (real or manufactured)  when they can, providing the illusion of choice when they can’t, becoming associated with the premium version of a thing, or the affordable alternative to the premium version, and so on.

Modern humans have evolved an unconscious symbiotic relationship with the brands that populate our mental lives, in which they provide for our needs, and we use our life energy to gather and provide them with the resources they need to survive in our meme pool.

So are corporations demonic egregores? They certainly have a unique place in modern human culture.

We’re curious to learn your thoughts.

Stay tuned for the 33rd Parallel podcast All About the Demons, where we figure out once and for all what exactly demons are.