The Wax Conspiracy

Eights here, eights there, eight's nearly everywhere

Hold an eighth and pause a pace of pieces for the year, month and day of today. 8 August 2008. Gregorian mind.

Heil 88, in many halls and rare lottery balls, two fat ladies along the wall waiting for it all to jackpot a bingo with money to fall.

Not enough for today though. Not by an eight ball at least. Fibonacci or no.

Triple their case and shimmy a hula with 08-08-08 on a daisy chain of ordinal fate. Of three fat ladies playing with hoops that are, y'know, for kids. Or eating rounds and mounds of donuts and holes with each a sausage link to the next.

Symbolic confluence, of numbers, of prosperity, of calendar opportunity, to open the Summer Olympic Games. Games of the XXIX Olympiad, opening in Beijing, China at 08:08 PM. A host nation holding dear the lofty ring of eight to the ear.

Days of competition inclusive, with the parade of nations a marathon effort for many, beating 8 to 24. From one eight to three, singular to a trinity. 2 times 4 or 3 hits of 8, any way to slice the wait. Days in total, at 17 are 1 and 7 melting an 8.

Many lines of crazy 8s.

("Human rights violations", by the way, only notches up a tidy undersum of seven. One polluted breath short of eight. One poor vision with religion on the run and speech of the free a thing neither oriental nor occidental in guarantee.)


Ethan Switch

Written on Friday, 8 August 2008

The Wax Conspiracy


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