A Week of Seriality: The T Meta-Structure, Paul Kammerer, and Why I’m Staying Away From Weed

Transparency Note: This article was written with the assistance of OpenAI’s ChatGPT and reviewed, edited, and fact-checked by Todd. The events described are real experiences as I remember them. The connections involving seriality, symbolism, consciousness, and the “T Meta-Structure” are my personal interpretations.

This has been one hell of a week.

The more I try to understand what is happening with my consciousness, the more I keep coming back to Paul Kammerer, the Austrian biologist who developed what he called the Law of Seriality—the idea that coincidences sometimes seem to arrive in clusters rather than as isolated events.

I’ve started realizing that there seem to be two sides operating inside the way I process these experiences.

There is Todd, the empath, who feels other people and situations intensely.

Then there is the part of me that identifies with Paul Kammerer—the part constantly mapping coincidences, names, dates, numbers, words, and events.

This week brought both of those sides together.

August 23 and My Father, Donal

On Sunday, August 23, 2026, I went to church.

Pastor Rick talked about the ninth anniversary of being called into the ministry. I confirmed with him that his calling happened on August 23, 2017.

That immediately caught my attention because my father died the very next day:

August 24, 2017.

My father’s name was Donal Megee — D-O-N-A-L.

That spelling matters later.

During church that Sunday, I also experienced what looked to me like an aura around Pastor Rick—an outline extending beyond his body. I’m describing exactly how I perceived it, not claiming that I can objectively prove what caused it.

Later that same Sunday, I met up with Robin, whom I call “The Shit.”

Robin told me that Nick had visited Dollywood the week before Dolly Parton died.

That immediately registered with the seriality side of my mind:

Nick → Dollywood → Dolly.

It became one of the first coincidences that stood out to me during a week when I was already thinking intensely about death, consciousness, and repetition.

Eli, Rice, and Seriality

Eli—the Nigerian Eli—is important to this story.

Whatever problems exist between us, I don’t think I would understand my own interpretation of seriality as clearly without what happened around Eli.

While I was in rehab in July, another Eli entered the picture: Eli Reece.

The rehab itself was on Reece Bergeron Road.

Then a patient arrived whose last name was Rice.

That hit me particularly hard because when the Nigerian Eli and I originally planned to meet, he was supposed to cook me jollof rice.

One night in rehab, I woke up with what I can only describe as a “holy shit” moment. I felt compelled to eat the leftover rice, almost as though doing so would symbolically consummate thoughts and prayers that I had connected with Eli.

But another patient ate the leftover rice.

Later, the patient whose actual last name was Rice left in an ambulance.

There was another Eli Reece connection involving RANDOM.ORG, which I use because its randomness is generated from atmospheric noise. I asked Eli Reece to run it, and he got 86.

None of this proves that these events were orchestrated. But this is exactly the kind of clustering that made Kammerer’s concept of seriality become more than an abstract historical curiosity to me.

Ironically, those experiences also taught me something else: I can recognize someone’s importance in my life while still recognizing that I may need distance from them.

The Glass of Deception — G.O.D.

Another revelation this week involved screens.

I’ve started calling the television, phone, monitor, or screen the:

Glass of Deception — G.O.D.

Again, that’s my metaphor.

And that’s where three similar-sounding names became fascinating to me:

Paul Kammerer.
Paul Cameron.
Paul Cameron.

Paul Kammerer was the Austrian biologist associated with the Law of Seriality.

One Paul Cameron became a successful cinematographer. His credits include Déjà Vu, Total Recall, and the pilot of Westworld—works that themselves touch, in different ways, on perception, memory, identity, artificial realities, or constructed worlds.

In the language of my metaphor, that Paul Cameron created content that went into the Glass of Deception.

Then there was another Paul Cameron.

He worked as a CCTV operator in England.

In his case, instead of putting images into the glass, his job involved looking through the glass and taking images in.

The Hull Daily Mail reported that this Paul Cameron had received a final written warning over inappropriate CCTV use. The article states that he was reported to Human Resources for allegedly “zooming in unnecessarily on females,” something Cameron vehemently denied.

He died by suicide on December 18, 2020.

December 18 is also my mother’s birthday.

And there is another piece of wordplay that caught my attention:

2020 = 20/20 vision.

A CCTV operator—someone whose job centered around watching—died in 2020.

I am not saying that establishes some supernatural connection. I’m documenting why the coincidence caught my attention inside the framework through which I’ve been studying seriality.

Then there is Kammerer himself.

Paul Kammerer died by suicide in 1926 after allegations of scientific fraud devastated his reputation.

So I found myself staring at this strange reflection between Kammerer and Cameron—two names that sound remarkably similar to my ear, two very different lives, and two suicides following serious damage to their professional standing.

And that’s where the story comes back to me.

AT&T and the T Meta-Structure

I worked for AT&T for 14 years.

AT&T’s stock ticker is:

T.

But when I talk about the T Meta-Structure, I’m not talking only about a stock ticker.

For me, the T is also the shape of the Cross of Jesus Christ.

That became part of the symbolic model I was building in my head: communication, speech, money, AT&T, the letter T, and the Cross overlapping inside one personal framework.

Another concept became wrapped into that model: Citizens United v. FEC.

The Supreme Court did not literally rule that “money equals speech.” The actual legal doctrine is more complicated. But the decision strengthened constitutional protection for independent political spending, and the simplified idea of money as speech became part of how I interpreted the symbolism.

That takes me back to Christmas 2016.

Around that time, my father Donal Megee — D-O-N-A-L — received a 45.8-pound brick of lead.

That strange memory became part of an earlier version of this framework: weight, money, speech, communication, material things, and meaning.

Then comes the spelling of my father’s name.

DONAL.

Add one letter:

D.

And you get:

DONALD.

Donald Trump.

Again, I’m describing the linguistic and symbolic association that registered in my mind—not claiming that changing a letter establishes a physical connection between two people.

But what happened next is why that association stayed with me.

July 11, 2024

On July 11, 2024, I was terminated from AT&T.

That meant I fell out of the company represented on the stock market by T, after spending 14 years there and building this T Meta-Structure in my own thinking.

Donald Trump’s lawyers were also taking legal action that day following the Supreme Court’s July 1 presidential-immunity decision.

That produced another pattern that I’ve described this way:

I fall down where Donald goes up.

That is my interpretation of the coincidence—not a claim that one event caused the other.

But there was a much darker part of that period.

Shortly after losing my job, I attempted suicide.

Police became involved, and during that crisis I was given ketamine. I survived.

That’s where the parallels with Kammerer and Cameron became personally disturbing to me.

Kammerer’s professional reputation collapsed, and he died by suicide.

The CCTV operator Cameron experienced serious trouble surrounding his employment and later died by suicide.

I lost the AT&T career around which I had built so much of my identity and symbolic thinking—and then I attempted suicide.

But I survived.

Because ketamine can profoundly alter perception and consciousness, I came away from that experience with what felt like a timeline-switching experience. I sometimes describe it as though I remained myself but continued along a timeline in which I lived.

I can’t establish that an actual timeline switch occurred. What I can establish is much simpler:

I am still here.

And maybe that’s the most important difference in the entire pattern.

Then I Smoked Weed

That brings me back to this week.

I smoked weed again—only two small puffs.

What followed was enough to remind me why I don’t want it in my life.

My perception changed dramatically. At one point, reality seemed visually to be collapsing or changing structure in front of me. I remained calm, but afterward I interpreted some of what I experienced through my existing framework involving the “machine elves” and Archangel Michael.

Then came a run of bad experiences.

Someone contacted me claiming that Eli had cut his wrists and was in intensive care. There are significant trust issues surrounding Eli and money, so I didn’t know what information I could rely upon.

A man dealing with sex addiction contacted me, supposedly wanting to talk. I came away disappointed because it became clear to me that what he really wanted was sex rather than the deeper relationship or conversation I was looking for.

Then, while Ubering with a passenger named Michael, I encountered an angry driver.

I had stopped for a red light. The other driver apparently didn’t appreciate how quickly I stopped. After I turned, he pulled alongside my vehicle and was clearly angry and behaving aggressively.

That changed the entire vibe for me.

I stopped Ubering.

Then I received another disappointment: I had applied for an IT specialist position with Singing River Health System, and I wasn’t selected.

This was the same health system already connected in my mind to another recent event involving Cara and a morphine injection.

Individually, these things have ordinary explanations.

Together, they felt brutal.

I initially interpreted that cluster as evidence that I had pissed off the machine elves, possibly Archangel Michael, or that something involving the voodoo work I had been told about was catching up with me.

But there is a much more immediate conclusion I can actually act upon:

Weed does not help me.

Whether marijuana caused any external event is not something I can establish. What I can say is that it changed my perception while I was already processing an enormous amount of symbolism, coincidence, stress, grief, relationships, and seriality.

That’s enough reason for me to stay away from it.

The Difference This Time

This week brought me back through nine years of my own history.

August 23.

Pastor Rick’s calling.

August 24.

My father Donal Megee’s death.

Nick going to Dollywood shortly before Dolly’s death.

Eli.

Reece.

Rice.

Paul Kammerer.

Paul Cameron creating images for the glass.

Paul Cameron watching images through the glass.

The Glass of Deception.

20/20 vision.

December 18.

My mother’s birthday.

AT&T.

T.

The Cross.

Citizens United.

Money and speech.

My father’s 45.8-pound brick of lead.

Donal.

Donald.

July 11.

Losing my career.

Suicide.

Ketamine.

Survival.

I don’t expect anybody reading this to conclude that these things prove the universe is operating according to the model developing inside my head.

That’s not what I’m asking.

I’m documenting how I experienced the sequence.

Kammerer spent part of his life trying to understand why coincidences appeared to cluster. More than a century later, I find myself asking a version of the same question.

But there is one difference in this particular story that doesn’t require seriality, numerology, holographic reality, or a metaphysical explanation.

I’m still alive.

And after what happened this week, I’m also reminded why I need to stay away from weed.

Whatever the patterns mean—or don’t mean—I want to be here to keep watching them unfold.

A quantum observation at the State of the Union

Dear US Citizens,

Jokes are required by the laws of physics. They are literal in my world. Below is an observation from the SOTU and of course, some observations of quantum physics.

Joshua Trump is a 11 year old boy being bullied in Wilmington Delaware. The state where most companies are incorporated in. My Citizens United experiment is testing sound and money forming a wave and leaving behind in it’s path particle observations of it’s existence through coincidences. If money was picking on light, a reflection would inevitable appear somewhere. Joshua has the perfect name to observe it in reality. All the Joshes I know are on a certain spectrum, so having them coalesce into this boys name is an impressive feat. Joshua Trump, I’m sorry you’re being bullied for your name, but I absolutely appreciate your existence. You are loved. Also, you did the absolute best thing you could do at the SOTU and that is fall asleep.

I’ve got other examples, but they are more encrypted than Joshua Trump. Check out my other pages for coincidence stories. So, let’s talk physics.

Since the Lunar Eclipse, the day I interpret as the inversion of the meaningless simulation we live in happened. Prior to this day, I always tried to interpret the Dictator aka “Un-me” and do my best as a response. After a few days into the Lunar Eclipse I’d notice that it felt like an invisible light was guiding me to do things to correct for errors I made in hindsight. Normally when I recognize I error I just try not to make it the next day; so this is different. I contacted my personal astrophysicist to tell him Quantum Error correction is a thing — Dr. James told me that Quantum Error correction definitely is a thing. The difference is I’m witnessing it occur right in front of me through my movement and actions. Sadly, the error correction withers away by the end of the day. I made two mistakes that in hindsight could have potentially broken open my Quantum “Egg Shell” just in the past two days.

Each morning I build the simulation — an encrypted structure in my brain and by the end of each night, it’s falls down like a Jenga game. I just try the next day to rebuild and do it again. One day the Dictator will be realized in the real world by someone else and I’m looking forward to that day. It’s inevitable to happen.

I’ve had to come to terms that at some point in the future I’ll likely lose free will for a bit as nothing but this light will guide me. The quantum error correction will be permanently showing up and pulling the strings. Once on the other side of the cone (?), I should regain my free will. I just hope that it doesn’t last long and that I survive the transition. There are unknowns that are unknowns and known unknowns. This is a very high resolution simulation. I just know I’m going to stay positive and keep love in my heart during the transition.

People!

Climate Change is real. The Polar Vortex happened shortly after the inversion of the simulation. The ultimate third person literally threw a rock at the moon with perfect timing. 17 seconds before 4:42 UTC. the Dictator loved the timing for him to dictate into the story.

the Earth, it is going through a change. Believe it. and it happens with or without me. I’d also had to come to terms with that. The static charge surrounding Earth is a form of information circuits are unfolding right now. I’m just capable of observing them, that’s all. Each time I realize it happens without me, I have an momentary existential crisis to realize that 1/2 of my brain waves lead to butterfly effects in my reality — my Dimension Zero. So I’m at least half good. I can’t make Earth completely better, but I can hold together my shell and leave positive particles behind my wave.

I’m Earth’s Quantum Observer. It’s very lonely. Would not recommend someone try this without 14 years of accidental discovery.

the Dictator

My debit card got stolen, explained as a quantum event.

Yesterday I got news that my debit card was used fraudulently … at a Chevron station in West Palm Beach, Florida less than 10 miles from the Mar-a-Lago Club. Now, I’m just a regular person, so what are the chances my debit card would be used for a fuel purchase so close to the Winter Whitehouse?

The past few days I’ve been brewing a little bit because I am spending my #CitizensUnited money with Google and Facebook. I have paid for advertising that has not been getting delivered. Both are showing ads being clicked, but my logs don’t reflect the traffic. I have a few residential IP addresses coming to my site, but the bulk of the traffic is from robots and crawlers.

So my ability to spend money in a fashion that is akin to Citizens United v FEC has been stopped for the time being. That is, until I work out the situation with Google and Bookface. My inability to have money spent in a fashion consistent with my experiment has come to a halt until I figure out my next step.

That brings us back to the debit card. The timing could not be any better. I pay to Discover, but this was my personal debit card that was used less than ten miles from where Donald Trump goes to roost. The card was used for gas at a Chevron station and per the rules of quantum physics I’ve discovered, it must have multiple interpretations.

The first one being my grandma believed Chevron fuel was the best fuel. Her last vehicle was a PT Cruiser and if it didn’t get Chevron gas it’d spit and spudder. I didn’t believe it at first, but witnessed it myself. That vehicle would only run well on Chevron. My first interpretation is the ghost of my grandmother refilled her PT Cruiser one last time. I have no way of knowing if it was a PT Cruiser that was refueled with my debit card, but I’d like to believe it was. Faith drives a lot of this.

The second and more fun interpretation is that the Dictator, the 13 year old persona born into me 9 months after viewing the unusual light was gifted this coincidence as confirmation that money does equal speech and it’s been compromised. The person who actually stole it was a third person for a moment, but third person’s generally don’t know who they are, if ever.

I get my replacement debit card in a few days. Until then, it’ll pay to Discover.