Aquarius 3° (January 22)

Cool so I’m in the process of writing and I’m saying that at his best he openly dedicates himself to make him the world more beautiful bountiful blissful striving to provide lush landscape of experience in which the more the merrier people might share well admitting any personal benefit and so doing the less evolve tourist being in it for his own gain. Cover this have a claim material reward all forms of validation that are poor substitute for self esteem. Struggles with feeling they aren’t enough he isn’t enough in the particular challenge this sign is path desire to breed out his self deficiency the true test of this is whether or not the bull fellow can feel fulfilled despite real metaphoric mob fans. We’re not telling you to change your path is yours but we want you to own your true nature and try not to disguise your intentions you’re meant to be the most evocative of creatures master of self cultivation looking gardener designing To be appealing especially to those whose attention he wishes to capture. Presents his antihero naive differential point of self deprecation which charming if not put on. Whole of self understanding and appreciation hinged on recognizing fast ring celebrating what comes naturally to weed out invasive ill intent actions that might impair his personal growth. 

And now for a note to some biches. 

I know you have said that whenever we have changes to Sextrology you would happily take them on board for future printing, but have stopped short of wanting to do a new edition, a decision we have respected, while still managing to inspire complaint on that score.

In light of recent developments, I did want to offer you the opportunity to make some minor and a few important changes to the print version of Sextrology as we will be giving the eBook a well-appointed update on our end.

Our new book will be coming out in the Spring of 2022. And in the process of preparing for that we began by scrutinizing Sextrology to inventory our original concepts for development while warding against any direct repetition of ideas. In the process we flagged bits that needed simple updating (like mentioning devices like “pagers” and other outmoded references) while also addressing larger thematic threads needing fleshing out.

When Sextrology hit stalls in 2004 it was hailed as being groundbreaking and ahead of its time in regard to gender and sexuality. However, it is now viewed by younger readers, in particular, as being dated and “too binary.” The entire conversation about sexuality and gender has changed in the last seventeen years, and we will are drafting our new book with that steadily in mind., As we expect to turn on a whole new generation of readers to our work, we imagine driving a great many folks back to our previous books. And we intend these readers to find a modernized version of Sextrology that doesn’t seem “so 1950s” (as one young reader put it—that one hurt LOL) and one where we include some language that speaks to the modern conversation about transgender and non-binary people of each sign.

For starters we have written a new version of the introduction to set up a more inclusive conversation, mindful to make it the same size as to fit into the same pages. We mostly leave the existing text alone, but for a few tweaks and edits here and there. And we have physically eyeballed where it is we can add text to make the book more relevant. Because the format of Sextrology demanded that each chapter begin on a right-hand page, what Stella and I call “the snapshot” chapter opener, there is most often a blank left hand page. This means that if we shifted the “Couplings” at the end of each chapter, one page forward, we would have an entire blank page to work with for the edition of main text at the end of the chapter proper. It isn’t always the case, but often. In other cases there is simply a half or three quarters of a page to fill in to a chapter which could suffice for the addition of timely language.

I wouldn’t be getting anything to you until late Summer or early Autumn 2021. But perhaps we can have a chat at some point between now and then to map out what is feasible on your end. I am thinking of us of course, but I am also thinking of you. I would hate for readers to find Sextrology in what they would consider a dinosaur state. I realize more than ever how adamant you have been about not doing something new but we would request some kind of burst on the cover that said something like “New and Updated Edition.” I think that would be worth it to your sales to invest that small expense. We will certainly be marketing the ebook as such.

Other major news is that our second book was optioned by a top TV producer and that Starsky + Cox as a brand has been hired as consultants and “Living IP” for what we expect will be a great show. Miley Cyrus is already attached to this. As you know she is positioned as a modern, sex-positive figure. Her generation is obsessed with astrology in a way that previous ones have not been. She is in fact a perfect embodiment of our new reader to whom we want to appeal and for whom we need to make these textual changes to our previous works. The show is being sold to US and UK markets as the production company has tandem presence. Starsky + Cox will be named at least twice in the credits. Not to jinx anything, but if this comes to successful fruition, Sextrology might experience its best bump in sales to date.

The following blocks of text are exceprts from my first year of  Blagues, nos. 1481-1485. I am reading through all of my Blagues, five per day, and posting some samples here. Now, in my sixth year of writing this Blague, by the time I get to my seventh, I will have journeyed through all the daily Blagues of my first five years. If that’s confusing I apologize. Year seven, I’ll only have to read through year six, once a day.

Here we are in the tricky sign of Gemini and let the games begin. This time of year coincides with my having to deal with a surplus of personalities. Which can itself be, well, tricky. We took a long beautiful walk to the South End and had a little brekkie at The Buttery. It amazes me how clueless staff at places like that are (during the days). It is like that in London too. I find, however, that in places like France and Italy there is more pride and professionalism in the work of someone, even as such, working a little breakfast counter somewhere. The French and Italians make that shit chic. They don’t phone it in the way we do, especially. It does drive me a bit bonkers. Stopped off at the bank and then another big stroll up the avenue. I had a giant breakfast burrito so I won’t eat again. After our client this afternoon, we walk all the way to Harvard Square. Tried to eat at Longfellow where we made a rezzie but the ladies next to us were so loud (bursts of faux laughter) and wait staff walked behind my chair which was just behind a column and bumped me every time and there was a private party taking over the whole upstairs and they had a lousy wine and food selection so really the place is only good for people who like to cocktail. So we high-tailed it downstairs to Alden & Harlow where we had the best meal we’ve had there in a real long while. Andrew was working and he is adorable and always has the best wine recommendations and we had a blast, then headed over to the American Repertory Theater to see We Live in Cairo, which was quite expert.

The sign of Virgo rules the digestion which also serves as a metaphor for our conscience—munching on experience it metes out the nutrients in our life from the detritus. In the sculpting of Pandora, Hepaestus utilizes the best features of each of the goddesses, making her a composite of these. Pandora means “all given.” We see the archetypal roots here of the Virgo male character which can lean toward the Svengali, being (a sometime male-chauvinist) Pygmalion, the Henry Higgins molding his Eliza Doolittle; and we see, too, the roots of the Virgo woman being something of a borrower herself—of all the women in the Zodiac she is most likely to cherry pick elements of style and even personality from other women she admires. It can come as a shock to her friends to see her morphing into them before their eyes. Slowly though she will morph out of being a collection of traits into a unique composition of influences, which is true of all of us to some extent. She will also let herself beSvengali’d (if we can make that a verb) doing little to stop it. The possessive implication of My Fair Ladyobjectifies the female; but we know, from both that musical or the original myth, that Eliza, the modern Galatea, being thus objectified, to use the vernacular, gave her life, literally in Galatea’s case, Pygmalion’s love being a most animating force that turned her from ivory to flesh. Galatea means “milk-white” a nod to the purity element inheritant in the Virgin sign.

The Virgo virgin depicted in the Zodiac, however, is not that Pandora or Galatea but rather the goddess Kore (who becomes Persephone, the Scorpio woman archetype, once Hades-Pluto abducts and drags her into his underworld). Kore is the “daughter,” or more accurately the maiden-form of Demeter, earth goddess of the harvest, correlating to Virgo’s August- September time frame, ending the first half of the astrological year, at Autumnual Equinox, the start of the next sign of LIbra. Demeter is also called Pandora, but in her case the name translates to “all giving.” She giveth and she taketh away. Demeter brings forth the bounties of the Earth when she is reunited with Kore half the year, then plunges us into winter forcing us to grieve along with her, the other half of the year, when Persephone takes her underworld throne. That is the power of the Virgo woman, in particular, who makes herself useful in the lives of others but, if unappreciated, recuses herself, leaving those who’ve come to rely on her at a loss. In our book Sextrologythe Virgo male and female chapters are called The Vehicleand The Vessel, respectively, both of which speak to being a catalyst and a crucible for substantive change, that either emanates from or is filtered through (or both) the human conscience.

In astrology, Chiron represents “the wounded healer” which is spot on Virgo theme. Long before Brené Brown made it her eternal watchword, we assigned the (positive) energy of  “vulnerability” to the Virgo experience, in so far as it relates to humility, which translates to the acceptance of ones own human frailty. Virgo is not, as a rule, the competitive type. The energy of Virgo demures. We see this reflected in the sign’s symbol: The Mother-Earth (Mater/matter) M-shaped symbol with a final flourish that loops back, inward, onto  and crossing itself, creating a hymen effect as befits astrology’s Virgin. This stands in contrast to the near-exact M-shaped symbol of Scorpio whose final flourish instead projects outward in a stinging arrow. We here see, in glyph-y form, the connection between the virgin Kore (Virgo experience) who becomes Persephone, the maker we all meet, in her Chotonian, underworld (Scorpio experience) aspect. Virgo is about purity lost, loss in general, as it relates to disability. Vulnerability, or as we prefer, humility, is an important aspect of the human condition, probably the most human among them. And Virgo people are, by all accounts, the most seemingly hurt of individuals, that being part of their superpower. It all depends on the nature of the Virgo individual—whether or not s/he is capable of taking some licks and being all the better for it; or if it, instead, creates a chip on the old shoulder, where a defense of victimhood, blaming others. instead defines the personality. There is little room to go there. Whereas, when one embraces ones vulnerability one can overcome it and empathize with others and allow it to positively change you on that alchemical level.

For Virgo, change is slow, despite the fact they may seem to suddenly disappear, ditching friends and whole social circles without notice. By paying closer attention you might have seen the Virgo straddling a new enclave, while still drawing benefits from an existing one. The sign rules the ages of 35-42, what has traditionally constituted middle-age (despite sweeping arrested development in our culture) and its namesake crisis; and Virgo people act-out from that perspective all their life, metaphorically getting facelifts or hairplugs or buying a red porsche, that is to say altering the shape and path of their own existence out of a sort of fear of mortality. Virgo people thus mold themselves to fit new situations and social groups. They will ingratiate themselves, serving purposes and working angles they deem necessary to gain acceptance. It’s like they take loss into their own hands, deciding what to lose, themselves, before it is taken away by external forces.

However, as ever, I am moving the spoon. Here some additional thoughts on the Libra experience:

In the history of the pantheon, Apollo is not an early arrival. Scholars note that much of his artsy estate originally belonged to Aphrodite/Venus, namesake of the sign’s planetary ruler. The second half of the Zodiac begins rather ironically: The so-called opposite sign of Aries (self) to Libra (other), Aries is a masculine sign fittingly ruled by Mars, followed by feminine Taurus ruled by female Venus. The second half of the Zodiac begins with Libra a masculine sign ruled by Venus, followed by Scorpio, a feminine sign ruled by Mars and Pluto. And so these feminine attributes of beauty, grace, love are conceptualized via the masculine, mental air sign of Libra into sexless, starry notions. Apollo is not a warm and cozy deity, and, despite his gleaming perfections, he is not his father Zeus’ inheritor—in fact Zeus fears Apollo will overthrow him. Thus Apollo is akin to another light-bringer, Lucifer and ultimately Luke Skywalker (a rather parapetic interpretation of the cardinal-air insignation of the sign!). Apollo’s introduction to the pantheon coincided, too, with the ideal (a very Libran word) of the love between males being a higher form than that of the heterosexual variety—in keeping with a cultural shift that newly favored the patriarchy, particularly in Athens (as opposed to feminist Sparta) where women had far fewer rights. Libra women might have metaphysically inherited an axe to grind on that score. They are as reclaimers and proponents of latent female power. Female archetypes of the sign include Astraea and Dike, both goddesses of justice, the former representing innocence on that score, the latter moral order and convention—they are associated and often interchangeable in mythology. Both goddesses, especially Astraea, are said to be the last to have lived among humans before abandoning earth for the sky, where these goddesses watch mankind in anticipation of the return of a Golden Age—indeed Astraea’s return to Earth would usher in a new era of enlightenment. (The Golden Age is associated with the rule of the deposed Titan-king, Saturn, whose namesake planet is exalted in the sign of Libra.)

Consciousness raising is the primary keynote of the sign of Libra. With the seventh astrological house being that of relationships, partnerships, contracts, the focus is on the social aspect of these assignations. Libra energy is duty bound to uplift others in the process of raising one’s own consciousness and spirit—this is the cosmic energy of Apollo and Astraea (Venus on the astral plane) and Dike who, like Apollo, carries a lyre and is laurel wreathed. It is for the love of humanity as a whole (in contrast to finding ones own humanity within via the previous sign of Virgo) that we hope to achieve this elevation. The biblical association with Libra are the Psalms which is the most lyric portion of the bible; it is made up of poems, songs, spells, really (complete with stage directions on lighting candles and like-actions to ritualize these magic words). In our book Sextrology, the male and female chapters are titled The Characterand The Charmrespectively, and the speak to the development of ones abstract element of self, our character, and the power we have to positively charge and charm others and the world around us (among other interpretations of these titles). Libra energy is about relationships and our social conscience as an evolution from the Virgo focus on the personal variety. It speaks to the invisible link between us all and the notion that none of us is free until all of us are. Whether from the pulpit or podium or soapbox or high priest/ess pedestal, the messages of equality and unity are clear—Venus energy is about union and, on the earthly Taurus level, it speaks to personal beauty, allure and attraction of the individual; here the energy is hinged on the beauty of high ideals and principles that unify us all, still, one relationship at a time, the seventh house ruling  one-on-one relationships which, if you think about it, all our relationships are. The Venus symbol has been called the mirror of Aphrodite, and where it speaks to the physical beauty, attraction but also vanity and envy associated with Taurus, here, in Libra, being “the fairest of them all” is purely conception. The mirror is now purely metaphorical, designed for the searching of our own conscience and, indeed, our soul. In Libra, every other person is our mirror in whom we want to see reflected our our most ideal character and uplifted spirit.

The (male and female) Apollonian archetypes which most prominently reside in Libran people emphasize an intellectual experience of life over an emotional. Libra people, inhabiting the world of “light”, that of appearances and a higher, idealized consciousness, have difficulty digging below the surface of both their own psychology and more animal-instincets, as well as making deep connections with others. They can overemphasize a need for external order as a substitute for feeling internally sorted.

I will regale you now with some added thoughts on the Scorpio experience.

Scorpio rules the genitals and reproductive system, which we conceal, and, though it is the seat of certain desire, it also carries the metaphoric shadow aspects of shame and repression. Desire is something deeper than want, working through us rather then deriving from us. Sexual desire, or our brands thereof, isn’t something that we can alter, despite what Mike Pence might think; we can repress it, giving rise to emotional or psychological problems in so doing, or we can honor it as some inherent bit of cosmic real estate within over which our conscious mind has no sovereignty. It is desire that brings obtainment—again the so-called opposite signs of Taurus and Scorpio being hinged on having or possesion—only here, unlike Taurus which is about material possession, we are dealing with energetic, indeed psychic possession in the sign of Scorpio, the centerpiece of the third quadrant, that of the metaphysical mental plane.

In our book Sextrology the male and female chapters are titled The Strangerand The Specimen, respectively, speaking to the secret, stealthy, if not estranged, nature of the sign along with its focus on being an exemplary, essential and distilled creature who seeks to remain uncorrupted by external influences or forces. That Scorpio sting is really a strident refusal to people-please in any way. For all their secrecy, Scorpio people do not, as a rule, hide anything about their true natures; they are completely up front about who they are and what they believe, if not, again, experiencing their opinions as facts, being doggedly dogmatic. They simply feel no compulsion to share the details of their lives, even, or especially, with their closest friends or family. They hold themselves in extremely high esteem and though they are the most seductive of signs the never chase opportunities or people. Like a spider or a dragon or a snake in the grass, the silently lie in wait for others to enter into their experience—that said they tend to be worshipful of wealthy people, equating Pluto riches with personal power. Still, of all the signs they are most likely to take others hostage, emotionally or otherwise—they don’t put themselves out or change a thing about their own routine to accommodate others. When you’re with them it is on their terms; and even when they are invited guests, they will impose their strong influence on the proceedings, if only through the bringing along of games, side dishes, or gifts that one must play, sample or use straight away. There is a sense of their replecating themselves through others. And, among the most judgmental of individuals, if you don’t comply enough with their way (or the highway) you may be frozen out.

The sign of Scorpio rules the human ages of 49-56 which is associated with menopause or a supposed loss of power, which isn’t exactly the case. Like in the Scorpion months of October and November, when the outward appearance of life, leaves and all such foliage, falls away, reverting energy to the unseen root level, a point in the cycle of regeneration, such is the metaphoric snapshot of this age for the sign of Scorpio and its people who find the world of appearances to be fatuous on the whole. Not only is the (sexual) root chakra linked to Scorpio but one might say it is the proverbial place that people of the sign are coming from. Scientifically, even, menopause is said to be for women something of a renaissance of their mental life, long associated, mythically and throughout literature with the onset of increased wisdom. In the biblical line, Libra’s poetically lyrical Psalms are followed by Scorpio’s profoundly wise Proverbs. And though the Scorpio may appear icy on the outside, s/he is fairly smoldering within. We think of Persephone entranced (frozen) and silent on her throne, communicating telepathically to each departed soul, deciding their ultimate fate, and sending their souls in the direction of her choosing. She is herself a frozen asset, the barren queen of the underworld, who returns to the world of the living each year to resume her formal role as the goddess of springtime, Kore (the maiden of Virgo). Maid and crone but never mother (except that she is the maiden form of her own earth mother, Demeter), she is nonetheless a goddess of cycles and regeneration, life (springtime) and death (that maker we all meet).

Meaning is Scorpio’s life goal, thus they don’t seem designed for fun or even a simple happiness. They present as serious and superior, loath to suffer fools, even when wrestling with their own inner demons of self-doubt, insecurity and self-destructive tendencies. On that score they seem to withstand overindulgences in earthly delight better than most, often reveling in subversive actions, if not a certain decadent chic that can go along with it. It’s one of the ways they keep us guessing; and yet, if pressed, they are first to wear their insidious lifestly on their sleeve. They despise dishonesty in any form, and they get a secret thrill in flirting, if just a bit, with what might smack of a darker side of life. It fits their default rather pessimistic view. And even if living the most shiny, wholesome lifestyle, they will always find something to be self-loathing about. They can be seditious in relationships, talking behind the backs of even those who might consider them the closest friends. It’s just part and parcel of their love of intrigue and a cloak-and-dagger view of social interaction, but they risk taking gaslighting, especially, a bit too far. We say Scorpio doesn’t text as much as s/he subtexts, their words never intended just for face value. There is always something of a sting, a backhanded compliment, or a tiny twist of the knife. They take Taurus’ need to be liked to a new level, seeking to possess others, as if embodying an addictive substance to which others might become hooked. Scorpios make you feel you need them while all the while testing your mettle in putting up with (read: loving) them. They get into your head, like the cute but rather terrifying Lucy, in the Peanuts, ever playing the psychiatrist, scanning your psyche for root intent.

Anyway on to writing some new thoughts on the Sagittarius experience:

Dionysus represents nature asmale, he is god of ritual madness and religious ecstacy, a liberator and rule breaker and the only Olympian god to have a mortal parent. He isn’t pre-civilization wild, but rather embodies liberation from the restraints of existing society, the returnto a natural state. Thus his rites entailed the drinking of his wine and frenzied dancing, opening up the consciousness to altered, arguably higher states of mind while recapturing the wild animal level of being, all in all, a return to primordial nature. Though it mightn’t have appeased Hera, Dionysian cults and rites were mainly associated with, and driven by women, along with slaves, outlaws, foreigners and the otherwise marginalized. The rites included dancing to rhythmic beats, flinging ones head back, so to break on through to the other side. Sagittarius is the energy of lightning flashess of genius, where it borders on madness, blowing ones own noggin. We still see this same triggering of ecstaticism in evangelical churches, in voodoo practice, and in native american rituals. Sagittarius is the sign of the jazz, rock ‘n roll and the Beats (itself a combined duality of being beaten down and also beatific, raised high, all at the same time).

Dionysus carries a fennel staff topped with a pinecone, called the thyrsus, which, (somehow the ancients knew?), realtes to the pineal gland, where the two halves of the brain meet, the proverbial third eye. Like the opposite sign of Gemini, the Twins being one mortal one divine, pointing to that duality, Sagittarius, here, sees the half-mortal-half-divine Dionysus nonetheless coming together to enter the kingdom of heaven and take a coveted throne. Like the namesake Mercury, which rules Gemini, that messenger god is the psychopomp who can travel from the underworld of Hades to Olympus; and the late arriving Dionysus is likewise the communicant between the living and the dead; and like the androgynous adolsescent Mercury, Dionysus is described as man-womanish, bridging another duality. Juno is famed for blinding wise Tieresias (Dionysus’ high priest) who lived for times as both man and woman, for siding with Zeus as to which gender has more pleasure in sex (ironically, Zeus said women do). Tieresias was given second-sight in recompense—how Sagittarian. In our book Sextrology, the Sagittarius male and female chapters are titled The Maverick and The Maven, respectively, pointing to the wild, outside-the-box element as well as that of the doyenne enthusiast. In the Dionysian rites, the mainly women celebrants (maenads) tore apart live animals and ate raw flesh, reinacting Dionysus’ bloody beginnings of would-be death and rebirth. The word enthusiasm, literally meaning: letting the god enter (oneself), derives from this practice, in keeping with the exuberant energy of Sagittarius. The connection, marriage, of one’s mortal self with the divine is seen too in the notion of genius and lower-case juno, words that originally expressed the notion of an indwellling personal god. The concept of the male genie (god within the male) still exists in our collective imagination while its counterpart juno (the indwelling goddess in women) has been all been eradicated. The Sagittarian mottos I see and I understand both point to a certain divine gift of said genius which happens in lightning flashes. The arrow glyph of the sign suggests an ability to reach further than our human vision can take us—all fire signs are associated with weaponry: Aries (the warrior spear) and Leo (the sword as determines rightful kingship) and the expansive bow and arrow, here, which requires a certain leap of faith in hitting a desired mark. You might say this is one aspect of the Sagittarius superpower, the shadow side of which would be, among other things, blind risk-taking.

In the bliblical line, following wise Proverbs, associated with Scorpio, we come to the most ecstatic book of them all Ecclesiates, which matches the Sagittarian estate. It is the most life-affirming and yet fatalistic of books where we find the phrase “eat, drink and be merry,” so akin to Auntie Mame exclaiming that “life is a banquet and most poor suckers are starving to death. Taking huge bites out of life is what Sagittarius is all about. The age group associated with the sign is 56-62, when one is at the height of their worldly power (the realm of goddess Juno), the pinnacle of their professional career, at their most expert with fullest knowledge, preparing as big a golden parachute as they can. The eleventh house is that of omniscience as it relates to learning, travel, experience and all forms of expansion that may nurture one’s most compassionate and visionary nature.

Anyway today is about meditating on new Capricorn ideas.

The Capricorn motto is I use which is to day I don’t waste, neither time nor energy, or fritter away that which is worth preserving on that which on that which is not sustainable. The goat is built for the ascent but here’s the rub: Capricorn is the Sea Goat, and it has this fishy bit, which carries paradoxical meaning. Water sybmolizes intuition something Capricorns have in abundance, it also signifies emotion which we hope will fuel the Capricorn, not drag them down. The amphibious Sea Goat is also the perfect being to inhabit a metaphorical moutain-lake environment, the reservoir formed by restrictive power. Shan-gri-la is like golden-age Arcadia, where nobody ages. Just as the cardinal-water sign of Cancer, the so-called opposite of Capricorn, is the source, Capricorn is the resource; and just as Cancer is associated with the archetype of Cinderella, so is Capricorn personified as the fairy god mother, a female personification of one’s higher power. Capricorns, whose birthright energy is faith, tend more than others to be one and the same with their higher power. And on the male side, we associate going to the mountain with, among other archetypes, old Moses, who let’s himself go grey via the experience, just as baby Moses, going from mother to mother along the (cardinal-water) river, is associated with Cancer, ruled by the Moon, the mother principle in astrology. Just as the fairy godmother comes with strict instructions (the sign of Capricorn at the very top of the Zodiacal wheel, at twelve o’clock, the stroke of midnight) so too does Moses receive and thus deliver a list of rules and regulations, restrictions—shalt nots!—to lay on us, ten to be exact, the number associated with Capricorn. God also told Moses to build his tabernacle out of goat hair, one might guess, because of it’s enduring, eternal qualities.

That fishy bit of the Sea Goat, on the flipside of symbolizing feeling and intuition, also amounts to a bit of emotional baggage. Again, the sign’s motto should be triggered here, and the Capricorn individual should use it as fuel to further their ascent in life. The body parts ruled by the sign include the knees, the skeleton and the skin, which, taken metaphorically, points to pray or certain supplication, structure (and a love thereof), and that notion, again, of containment. The scapegoat derives from the worship of the goat-god Baal and worshippers would heap their own baggage and troubles and sins upon the back of said goat and send it off away, thus ritualizing their atonement. The signature melancholy that can be associated with Capricorn people speaks to this serious sense of renunciation and retibution inherent in the sign. There is an aspect to their life where they are forever doing penance. And ask any Capricorn if they feel scapegoated in general in their lives. Like many things astrological we can’t fully explain, most Capricorn people are left holding the bag as early as childhood, burdened with the care of fellow siblings or even their parents, having to be the grown-up in the room well before a normally appointed time. And, as we’ve seen, and not without fault or reason, the Capricorn man, especially, might suffer some pretty public displays of being scapegoated. Richard Nixon; Mel Gibson; Phil Spector, et al. Incarceration is, after all, a vivid manifestation of containment. Such drastic examples aside, the Capricorn experienced is hinged on the sign’s most potent superpower, that of Faith, the shadow-side of which is Fear. The word panic comes from that goat-god Pan. The word tragedy comes from the Greek tragodiameaning goat song. The color ruled by the sign is black, a color typically worn by priests and nuns, as it is meant to absorb negativity, to take on that responsibility, as to save the rest of us, much the way they pray, on their Cap-ruled kneecaps, for the good of all humanity. We’ve said it before but: Capricorns by nature put the nun in renunciation.

In our book Sextrology, the Capricorn male and female chapters are titled The Stickler and The Sleeper, respectively, pointing to the hard-line traditionalist energy, as well as the subtle but enduring, slow-burn success associated with the sign. Capricorn rules the ages of 62-69, the usual age of retirement falling into that span. Their love of loafters, ascots, caftans, sandals and other such leisure wear not withstanding, people of the sign embody the mindset of having already achieved their desired life goals. There is something of a self-help lesson in that as the Capricorn naturally acts as if; and though natives of the sign are no strangers to steep climbs, uphill battles and other such tests of endurance they are paradoxically the most accepting, least rushed and, sometimes seemingly unambitious of folks as their life journeys are taken up gradually with constant opportunites for stopping to smell the roses and enjoy the view, all the while being steady as she goes. Because they more readily accept the difficulties of life, they tend to process them more thoroughly, if not readily; and as a rule life becomes easier, and the Capricorn character more light-hearted over time. Of all the signs, they are the hands-down late bloomers. To boot, they don’t suffer burnout the way the rest of us can, as they allow even the harder knocks in life to toughen them up, conditioning their body, minds and spirits, so they become increasingly able to not only withstand but transcend what might trip up others. They are especially impervious to the opinions of others, exuding what might considered a natural superiority—the tenth house is that of status as well as public life—presenting as unflappable and insouciant and forever going higher, lest we forget Michelle Obama is born under this sign, as are other people, women especially, whom we might ultimately label iconic (never lightweight) including Betty White, Patti Smith, Maggie Smith, Annie Lennox, Dolly Parton, Julia Louis-Dreyfus, Mary J. Blige, Marelene Dietrich, Diane Keaton, Katy Sagal, Sissy Spacek, Annie Lennox, not to mention some supermodels called Kate, Christy and Helena all of whom seem to improve with age, none of whom are swayed by outside opinion.

To view the original Sabian Symbol themed 2015 Cosmic Blague corresponding to this day: Flashback! And also Flashback! The degree point of the Sabian Symbol may at times be one degree higher than the one listed here. The Blague portrays the starting degree of for this day ( 0°,  for instance), as I typically post in the morning, while the Sabian number corresponds to the end point (1°) of that same 0°-1° period. There are 360  degrees spread over 365/6 days per year—so they nearly, but not exactly, correlate.

Typos happen. I don’t have a proofreader. And I like to just write, post and go! Copyright 2020 Wheel Atelier Inc. All Rights Reserved. Get your HAUTE ASTROLOGY 2020 Weekly Horoscope ebooks by Starsky + Cox.

Aquarius 1°-2° (January 21)

I awoke today at 11:15! Like I’m a teenager! What an amazing feeling—and to realize that I had been so exhausted by these last four years without really understanding how much so. Also, my chronic back pain which had been plaguing me for….months?…a year?…more? was pretty much gone. I mean I sprang out of bed and noticed myself running up the stairs and I was completely shocked. A client the other day was talking about how she can’t stand blogs and such wherein the writer just makes an account of the doings of their day. I was stone faced, because, as you know that’s pretty much what I’ve been doing of late. That said, all the below stuff—the selection of past entries—isn’t quite all that.  And now I need to review and write about four to five pages of book draft…So here we are . I was just reading back on this day because I’m done five days on, Evan I’m talking about being exhausted for the last four years yes well these last few days I’ve been sleeping in scary Lake and I feel quite rested so I’m hoping that my insomnia is on its way out which would be a very good thing. I don’t remember what happened on this day let’s see It was a Thursday and I would have no idea what would have curd on that Thursday if I look at the menu maybe but yeah let me do that Inauguration aftermath some more partying . We had chicken and green beans not that that tells you anything the reason I’m writing now is because I’m I’m a bit of a high and I’m five days behind on this block as I said and I’ve also not moved the needle on the larger stuff but I’ll speak to that. What I sorry what I really want to do is get into the functionality of my organizational skills now within the larger timeframe which I’ve allotted each chapter in its writing I’m now ready to overachieve. I don’t want to live in the desert . I like the desert . I just don’t want to live in It . Thank you dictate function! So I turned the paragraph and I have the pleasure save that nobody possesses a greater appetite for life than he does arguably the most sensual of the signs embodiment of sense and sensibility inferring what others desire individually another grand scale I don’t know if that means an ongoing effort to appeal to others one’s taste needs I need a pencil OK so I’m going to sort of keep talking when I do this because A master of insouciance having folks believe his achievements happen naturally without effort and without help this does arms others and genders much more support helps him along careeer directions . He will have you believe two pure conduit of intellectual aesthetic artistic endowments to be self promoting in the process of such pure expression he may never outright invite patronage still he won’t suddenly engineer others taking his up if not  

The following blocks of text are exceprts from my first year of  Blagues, nos. 1476-1480. I am reading through all of my Blagues, five per day, and posting some samples here. Now, in my sixth year of writing this Blague, by the time I get to my seventh, I will have journeyed through all the daily Blagues of my first five years. If that’s confusing I apologize. Year seven, I’ll only have to read through year six, once a day.

The Friday of the weekend before Memorial Day and I want to scream that familiar refrain: “I’m not ready!” But really that would only be in regard to some made up idea of what I feel I should feel (who am I kidding? I mean look) this close to “bathing suit season.” So let the starvation begin. Just joking. Not really. On the bright side I am making hay while the sun shines as best as I am able. So on to some new thoughts about Taurus…..

One of the things to admire most about a Taurean is their ability to hang a high price tag on themselves. They will do the work, cultivating themselves and their talents like a master gardner, playing nice, being pleasing, if not somewhat fauning and sycophantic which is always an inside-out expression of certain narcissism. The mirror is a recurring theme in the art, music, film and literature of Taurus creatives, and the natives tend to be very exacting in their appearance, cultivating a strong look that communicates not only their sensibilties but their intentions. They are, on this score, in a word, deliberate. This, along with practical and methodical and determined and focused are Taurus watchwords, being as myopic as real bulls are, metahporically speaking, of distractions or detractors, and also of their own artistic delusions. While being gluttons for attention Taurus people may be prone to overindulge their own appetites, at least that is the dime-story converntional wisdom. Moreso, they create hunger in others for themselves. This happens in positive ways, making people hanker for their skills and talents, but also finding ways to addict others to them. Taurus people collect other people in two ways: they will ingratiate themselves to those whose company reflects (there’s that mirror again) favorably on them, while they attract others, whom they might not give a figleaf about individually, who will provide them blanket worship.

Fixed signs tend not to be originators of ideas, waves or movements in their creative work thatthe cardinal signs (which precede them) are. They are imitators not initiators. Cardinal signs struggle with follow-through, sustenance, sustainability,  Taurus watchwords if we ever heard them. Fixed signs drill down (and sometimes get stuck) being are all things we might associate as fixed (okay, maybe not all). Taurus energy can be stubborn, obstinate, determined, deliberate, grounded, etc., terms to describe the bull itself. Taurus people avoid complication and outside confrontation at all costs—not to say they don’t cause their fare share trying to “get theirs,” but they feel we’ll deal with it. They can be condescending and dismissive, having a (too) high opinion of themselves. Overly sensitive and easily insulted, it’s best to keep censure you  may have for them to yourself and just limit interaction. It is near impossible for them to take criticism constructively. You might learn just how little you mean to them and find yourself on the outs. They go where the love is, to a fault. In our book Sextrologythe Taurus male and female chapters are called The Idoland The Ideal; in both cases: carefully cultivated creatures whose core raison d’êtreis to be appeciated. Any hint of the contrary is a non-starter. They want to be wanted, to hook you. They play the treat, if not the tart, and sometimes they’re like a drug, if not an actual pusher thereof. One shadow side of the sign is to take temptation too far. Being sychophantic, they can ingratiate themselves to figures they worship, appealing not to their strengths but to their weaknesses. They can be like Hera’s apple’s, poison in a pretty package. They may seek to topple those they tag the competition, if only subcionsiously corrupting them, fueled by envy and covetousness. It’s a serious downside of the sign: wanting what others have, and moreso, instead of forging a new path. The symbol of Taurus aren’t the outward growing antlers of Aries, instead they form a semicircle, a cup bent on receiving as much as the rest of us will give them. Without us they fcan eel they are nothing. And they’d be so wrong.

Whereas Aries is objectiveand Taurus is subjectiveenergy, Gemini combines the two. So here we have an energetic two-way street, input and output, transmission. The energy of Gemini is literally electric. While, moving down from the Aries head and Taurus throat and neck, Gemini rules the lungs (respiration) and the arms, the wings (aspiration), and with Mercury, the nerves, the electrical system of the body, our wiring and the firing of neurons into synapes. In yoga, when we lie in savasana, we imagine nervous tension being released down through our arms and out our finger tips. We won’t argue that Gemini people are nervy and it’s where any exhaustian they might suffer will hit. Like Mercury, the mind is a trickster and it is literally formed by the most prevailing thoughts hanging in our immediate enviroment, growing up—early childhood conditioning as well as our sibling and sibling-like relationships, boon companionships are all ruled by Geminis third astrological house, such schoolyard associations defining our formative years when, hopefully, given proper rearing, we might make the right future choices. But who had that? And who among us hasn’t and doesn’t still struggle, if not with morality, how about with mortality.  Rationalizing. That trickster mind convincing us to fly too close to the Sun or otherwise put ourselves into a neural fritzout.

Peter Pan, eschewing the grown-up world, recruits other lost (read: malleable) boys, his mini mob, to establish his position as a mercurial ring leader. He infiltrates the minds of his gang members, manipulating, rewiring their frames-of-mind to match his own, (un)hinged, as it is, on perputating his eponymous syndrome. Neverland is a hood on the outskirts of time, the ticking of that clock inside the croc, and Peter forever wrestling with his shadow side which, ironically, seeks its own release. But then the shadow may be free to bring about Pan’s aging, deterioration and death, so he keeps a firm hold on it and consciously carries on whistling in the graveyard. This may be the only way he can fly—soar in his ambitions: To rid one’s mind of certain inevitabilities may prevent their crippling effects. To perish such thoughts might be a necessary precursor to owning the Gemini superpower, that of positive thinking, the full wielding of which ill affords the entertaining of limiting thoughts—even, or, rather, especially, those of the great inevitable. Is this not the very definition of present-mindedness? Being here now. Yet another expression of the “immediacy” of the sign, combining both time and space. Gemini people have the greatest potential to realize the power of positive thinking, and yet they are pardoxically the most challenged in doing so. Having so finely attuned a cerebral instrument one is that much more susceptible to distractions, disinformation and disruption—not to mention being a most cunning disseminator thereof.

Geminis live by their wits and have something of a roguepersonality, a word that combines the goodand the bad, into something hopefully benevolently badass. But it can get a little ugly, just as it might hit the most beatific heights. He who wrote the poetry of Walt Whitman or she who sang the repetoire of Judy Garland may’ve possessed such divine gifts for expression even beyond their human ability to bear them. They are a mixed bag of Mercury’s tricks. And they’re transactional. We express this in the Gemini male and female chapter names—The Goodfellowand The Gift, respectively—in our book, Sextrology. You’ve no doubt heard of Kubler Ross’s five stages of grief—denial, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance; well, the whole of Gemini’s life is number three—the sign’s number, incidentally. Gemini folk are forever making deals with themselves—rationalizing—letting the ends justify the means, allowing for a little hell, some guttersniping, so to reach intended heavenly stars. Gemini’s are the most immersed of all people in the happenstance of human existence with it’s endless interpersonal interaction, details, to-do lists, dealmaking and minutae; and embracing this street-level, well, level of life (instead of struggling with, or feeling dogged by it, like many of us do) they actually elevate the experience of so-called quotidien existence to a more exalted state-of-being. Which begs the question: Why do we label these aspects of life that of mere or banal existence? Compared to what? Why shouldn’t workaday life be viewed as something sublime? For that matter why do we not view the entirety of our life as spiritual existence? How did we get the idea that we are functioning on a purely physical plane devoid of the divine? Well, the answer is simple: The messaging stems from the Judeo-Christian story of that fall from grace, that boot from Eden, (and associative myths world-wide) which the sign of Gemini represents as a metaphysical and metaphorical snap-shot. The point is we only know this life, we cannot be sure that another one awaits us, so why not approach even the most prosaic elements of it from the perspective that it is all part of the divine choreography we are dancing? The classic gods, with their super human characteristics, lied and cheated and raged and fell into depressions just as we do, chief among these being Mercury, a god of petty mischief and pranks, and yet a divine being all the same. And, well, Gemini’s apple doesn’t fall very far from that tree.

I’ve got a good two months to pull off some major creative coupness. I really am in good shape already to be honest. Again it’s the trust exercise, flow state thingy we’ve been talking about. I kind of don’t really care about the rest of it. I need to do a little work on the Cancer experience right now:

Ironically, the more the Cancerian gives over to their calling, the faster they seem to flow toward toward success.The metaphysical embodiment of hope and promise, Cancer people are voted: most likely to be championed. There is something about them that makes others want to speed their passage and promote them. These Moonchildren naturally work on the feelings of others. The Cancerian might do the exact same job for eons, their usual routine altering little for decades, success finding them in their own, often private process of making their quiet dreams come true, seemingly on their own terms, while being ever increasingly remunerated, sometimes in the extreme. The fourth house rules private life and, despite even global successes, this is something that Cancer seems to keep intact. The flipside of this is that: When the Moonchild feels s/he is losing a grip on this element of existence, they can experience this as utter chaos and complete loss of control. They are more prone to hysteria, anxiety and depression than the rest of us. The trick for them is not to give to much of themselves, and not to chase their successes, but to plot a simple course and patiently tack their way toward goals, running a tight ship. When personal security is frontloaded in this way, and the Cancer is prepared to weather any storm life might bring, they typically also serve as the calm eye in the storm for others. And here we have that cardinal-water spring analogy again as these children of Themis can be fonts of wisdom and guidance. Women of the sign are especially gifted in the realm of emotional labor, putting themselves out their as a salve for others; while the men tend to be more pedantic, keeping a store of well worn anecdotes and personal parables to pull out from a stockpile thereof. Still he too is a gusher of guidance.

            The personification of the principle that change is the only constant, Cancer folk will become the most comfortable with uncertainty because the enter life the least. The body parts ruled by the sign are the gut (intuition) and the breast (nurturative ability) and they forever build trust in the former and contribute via the latter, providing themselves and others an internal sense of security, living life from the inside out, letting external successes be the byproduct of healthy private life.

Leo people are best at giving themselves license, another aspect of authority. They love to green-light projects, their own and others. Many top directors (not to mention dictators) have been Leo. They take pride in running the proverbial show. It is a source of pride—and their prime objective is to make themselves increasing proud. If that Cancerian flood myth spells promise (ark, in both senses of the word) then Leo seeks permanence in the fulfillment of a covenant or compact they make with themselves: to create something lasting in this life. Cancer people seem all potential, while Leo folk present as fully self-possessed, the former needing others, the latter equipped to provide to others. Leo rules the ages of 21-28, that of maturity, the sign symbol depicting the lion’s mane, signifying peak power, or the lion’s tale, an indicator of their ferocious intent, even of the loving kind. The fifth astrological house is that of legacy, and Leo people more readily set upon building their keep, their stronghold, fixing their fire (read: passion), and building their world around it. And when we say world we mean other people. Leo may be autocratic but s/he isn’t a loner and relies upon the support of others lest their edification be but a castle in the sand. Leo’s create for themselves and others. The create worlds. Robert Redford springs to mind as does his on-the-nose Leo-themed Sundance. Leo people are like the hearth themselves bidding others to circle around them.

The hearth is not only that which provides warmth and protection (from wild influences) but it also gives rise to creativity. One imagines the first jokes and stories being told and the first cave paintings being created in a convivial glow. Surely its where creative plans were discussed and launched. A literal fixed fire giving rise to purest creativity. In our book Sextrology the male and female Leo chapters are entitled The Naturaland The Knockout, respectively, speaking to both the authenticity and winningness associated with the sign. The fifth astrological house is that of leisure activities, fun and games; and Leo people are the best at playing the game of life, in both their ability to achieve success and fulfilmment but, moreoever, to approach life as much as an amusement along the way. Helios runs a daily chariot race. Arthurian legend begins, middles and ends with contests. While men of the sign can be eternal class clowns for whom fulfillment means dedication to their most burningest passions even if they don’t make bank—in fact many a Leo man will live frugally and/or close to the land, if not go totally native—Leo woman, on the other hand, are more ardent in their need to score big wins in life. We think of the actual lion, the male doing a good deal of roaring (scaring and scattering would-be prey) while leaving the actual hunting to the females who lie  and wait in ambush. Along with the home and hearth protectress Hestia, the goddess of the hunt, Artemis, whom Homer called “lioness amongst women” also a protectress (of wild things) shares the top archetypal spot for the Leo woman. A modern incarnation would be the feline named Katniss Everdeen of Hunger Games fame, a Leo model if ever there was one. Leo women are the most hungry of all human creatures for successes they passionately believe are due them and they will stop at nothing to be crowned queen of whatever they deem their rightful, natural sphere of influence. And they are just as passionately ardent in the expression of their affections. The fifth house is also that of “the love you give;” and Leo, women especially, are brutally loving and a mate will find out the full range of meaning, here, should they betray the fidelity of her relationship. The fifth house is also that of love affairs, while neither men nor women of the sign tend toward a quantity of them—instead they seek permanent bonds that provide an eternal passionate flame. Tennessee William’s Maggie The Cat wants to start a fire with her one true love, but Brick doesn’t burn like that.

Mostly Leos are bent on having a great love affair with life itself, taking great big voracious bites out of it. For these co-creators with god, theirs are not mere passions but sacred flames divinely ordained to be realized and so it becomes the Leo person’s duty to fully realize that which is natural endowed to them. Concsiously or not they see themselves as divine instruments, which can see them playing god all too often. This is hingepin of their superpower and shadow side. Something TK about Jungle Law.

To view the original Sabian Symbol themed 2015 Cosmic Blague corresponding to this day: Flashback! The degree point of the Sabian Symbol may at times be one degree higher than the one listed here. The Blague portrays the starting degree of for this day ( 0°,  for instance), as I typically post in the morning, while the Sabian number corresponds to the end point (1°) of that same 0°-1° period. There are 360  degrees spread over 365/6 days per year—so they nearly, but not exactly, correlate.

Typos happen. I don’t have a proofreader. And I like to just write, post and go! Copyright 2020 Wheel Atelier Inc. All Rights Reserved. Get your HAUTE ASTROLOGY 2020 Weekly Horoscope ebooks by Starsky + Cox.

Capricorn 30°/Aquarius 0° (January 20)

The day was mostly good, of course. And yet it ended badly. Despite every action I made there is no way to avoid this power struggle. Each one of us is monarch of heaven. And there cannot be but one. So, it is becoming clear that we need not share a universe but head our own. Which is probably what occurred to Endora and Maurice in Bewitched. So, no big deal? We will one of us adopt a heavy blue eye shadow and a collection of indoor, winter caftans, and the other will dance around the planet, martini glass in hand, tuxedoed, trying not to let any shakes show. Fine. If that’s the way this cookie crumbles than so be it. I am tired of running east to hold up this wall and west to hold up that and south and north. Tired, tired, tired of it all. There has to be some kind of break from all this. And, so there will be. It needn’t be catastrophic or cataclysmic or chasmatic (I word I just made up). It can be just fine that this occurs. Divide and conquer in a poignant way. Probably more normal a dynamic than the one we’ve been living. Other couples, even those who “work together” aren’t as attached at the hip as we are in any event. So we are now living in a grown-up, non-dysfunctional world for the first time in a long time

God it felt so good to write the last paragraph of the last entry just now as I am writing all of this in real time. Starting tomorrow I will no longer be indebted to anyone (emotionally, at least) also between you and me I don’t want to go on said craft, I just don’t. It won’t be enjoyable for me so why bother. Needless to say, the Inauguration was incredible, and we cried and had a great day together, but it didn’t end all too well. We were having dinner and I was factually speaking about my observances of real-estate prices and somehow this struck some kind of personal nerve. And bluey! Anyway, it will pass as it always does, meanwhile I know that sometimes things have to break and tear and that the healing scars are ultimately stronger than the original, and I’m okay with that. Battle scars are a good thing in the end, of this I am quite certain. And once again, today is a very good day. A very good day indeed. 

The following blocks of text are exceprts from my first year of  Blagues, nos. 1471-1475. I am reading through all of my Blagues, five per day, and posting some samples here. Now, in my sixth year of writing this Blague, by the time I get to my seventh, I will have journeyed through all the daily Blagues of my first five years. If that’s confusing I apologize. Year seven, I’ll only have to read through year six, once a day.

So yesterday was pretty interesting in the end. I did manage to get very creative and let my imagination go a little wild and enjoyed some alone time just doing some home grooming and going through some clothes and costumes really. I’m going to focus now on getting some more thoughts on Aries down on paper, having moved the needle a bit, too, on casting the festival and series. People are by and large seeming very dysfunctional and disconnected. I know it’s because of this cultural (if you can call it that) climate. We have to all step up our pussies at this point. While, on the note, even Drag Race seems rigged. The thing we need to do is be kind to one another. This is the most important thing we can do. We need to emphasize the fact that we are the majority. That Above Us Only Skydocumentary of John & Yoko really hit the fact home. It harkened to a time when even celebrities didn’t want to be—they struggled against it in the name of artistry. I have gotten myself so riled up by what’s going on in our country and yet shouldn’t I be outraged. Shouldn’t we organize and take to the streets. Isn’t this outrageous enough? Maybe not for enough people. Anyway I have spent the morning enraged so I better get back to some astrological thoughts that need doing. Right as I said I was talking about Aries:

Aries also governs the human ages of birth to seven years, that which is defined by adjectives like “terrible” and nouns like “tantrum”, when a person is at once the most helpless and the most shriekingly selfish and demanding, others be damned. Even supposedly fierce Mars/Ares was a big baby who would run from the battlefield crying for his mommy if he received the slightest wound. There is a lot to unpack here. The cardinal-fire sign, which translates to a spark (of life), our ignition and animation, also signifies our purpose, the Aries personality can be impulsive and reactionary and unbridled—think Jack Jack in The Incredibles. Mars signifies pure energy, that fight, spearheading goals and otherwise taking life by storm, but it also translates to the other adrenalin effect, that of flight. Athena mainly stays above the fray, employing strategy and diplomacy and prudence to support her aims. And so it is no surprise that the most singularly directed of sign-energies in the Zodiac, that Aries people are themselves singular, self-motivated, me-me-me, every wo/man for themself. They typically have pinpointed campaigns and quests they’re determined to go on and they do so, unapologetically, with a certain vigiliance. It’s as if they can’t separate what might appear to us to be selfish-from a self-originating sense of duty toward the fulfillment of their objectives. Aries feel they were bornto do whatever they aim for—that it is in their Mars-ruled blood— endowed (and sometimes burdened) with an outsized mantle of import; such that the pull of said goals feels heightened to that of a spiritually calling. Or maybe it’s vice versa—that Aries people, by virtue of their ardor, lend their pursuits this exaggerated sense. The point is that the singular Aries, despite their gender, doesn’t second guess it. Incidentally, Aries people seem to be most binary in nature in regard to gender with a smaller sector of trans people among them as compared with other signs.

            In our book Sextrology, we likened the Aries woman to the female sheep—hey Ewe!—who keeps herself aloft, on her climb, watching male rivals vie for her below; mostly this speaks to the Aries’ woman’s ability to raise herself above arguments in wise Athenian fashion, if not pit opponents against one another to elevate her own position. And though there is the usual overlap between the sexes of the same sign, you still might say with confidence that, as a rule, Aries man tends to be embody the warrior most often on the frontline, while Aries woman is cooly strategizing from her metaphoric war room. She may may adopt lambish air if only to pull the wool. Why sheep?, you may ask. Well, besides the warlike qualities of the Ram, in mythology, the war god Ares/Mars evolved from an agrarian shepherd god, really a male fertility figure. Possibly deriving from the more ancient Minoan snake goddesses, armed as they are with serpents, and also from the bird goddesses like the wargoddess Inana and Ishtar, Athena, with her signature breastplate—the sheepskin aegisthat bears the venomous snake-haired head of the Gorgon—is associated with the owl, her wise totem, whose form she takes. Snakes and birds. Athena emerged a defender deity, among other attributes, as a palace goddess, inextricably linked to namesake Athens, although her Pallas pre-fix is more suggestive of phallus than palace, as she is eternally depicted wearing full masculine, martial garb.

            We likewise link Athena, in the biblical line, to Lilith, Adam’s first wife, predating Eve just as Aries precedes Taurus, whose own female archetype isEve and other such “innocents.” Lilith and Adam split up because they both preferred the top position, and she was winged—that element of flight—with serpentine qualities all her own. You might say all of the associative Aries goddesses are archetypes of feminism—and we do find a slew of feminists born under this sign, Gloria Steinem included. The symbols for Athena is a triangle or diamond shape set upon a cross—these portray yoni power above all. It is not a passive symbol of reception like the Venus glyph with it’s circular womb above a crossed staff (hymen), but, like Mars’ own genital “spear-and-shield ” symbol, it is one of definite action, even if on the defensive, blocking, a hard-knocks nod to the Ram, which, in nature, thus vividly defends its flock. The gender dialectic between men and women, cisgender or transgender, in the sign of Aries, is  not one of the virile masculine to the passive feminine but along a spectrum spanning from the purest objectifying masculinity to the most ardent feminism, refusing objectification.

            No surprise the sign of Aries rules the head—we enter the world head first, as a rule, and Aries people never abandon that trajectory. This speaks to the Aries experience, suggesting they come into this world armed with their sense of purpose and ambition, again, Athena, born in full armour, ready to do battle.  She is the goddess of helmsmen, those steering the ship—she and brother Ares wear plumed helmets—and the Aries personality is pinioned on leadership and taking the reins. Ares starts wars, the first to charge into attack just as his more ancient shepherd status saw him likewise leading his “charge”, that is to say, the sheep in his keep. Leadership, initiation, action, ambition are all Aries’ strongest suits, as is coming on strong in situations, for better or worse. Aries energy is lean and mean. People of the sign travel light, unwilling to be saddled with unnecessary emotional baggage or undue responsibility for others. They stick to a specific, niche agenda, focussed narrowly on a singular goal at any given time. They do, however, expect others to support their causes and further their aims, taking even seeming disinterest in their enterprises very personally indeed. The shadow side of the warrior is that s/he is most readily and deeply wounded by circumstance the rest of us may more easily shrug off.

Another great and harrowing (nerves on edge) Fosse/Verdon. My real red-haired mother (who took me to see Chicago with the original cast) and Gwen Verdon must have been so similar as people because I swear Michelle Williams is channeling her. The voice, the laugh, the way she holds her body. And I’ve counted now five actual exact wardrobe items. Anybody out there who knew Peggy please watch and tell me if I’m wrong. It’s truly freaky. Consider that somewhat of a late Mother’s Day posting. (Like most holidays, it’s something I avoid, because it’s truthfully just too damn painful.) I never stay up late enough to watch the show when it airs, so Wednesday mornings are my ususal viewing time, over coffee. But honestly I felt as if I needed a sedative, myself, after watching Sam Rockwell do his Fosse bit, which married so tightly to the film All That Jazz. Meanwhile the girly playing Ann Reinking has the voice down pat. I wonder what the really Annie thinks about it all. (Quick break to Google her). Wow she’s been married four times and none to Bob Fosse.

It’s still so fucking freezing out, here, in New England. Anyway I’ve got to continue my work today and that means polishing up some thoughts, still, on the sign of Aries:

Ares starts wars, the first to charge into attack just as his more ancient shepherd status saw him likewise leading his “charge”, that is to say, the sheep in his keep. Leadership, initiation, action, ambition are all Aries’ strongest suits, as is coming on strong in situations, for better or worse. Aries energy is lean and mean. People of the sign travel light, unwilling to be saddled with unnecessary emotional baggage or undue responsibility for others. They stick to a specific, niche agenda, focussed narrowly on a singular goal at any given time. They do, however, expect others to support their causes and further their aims, taking even seeming disinterest in their enterprises very personally indeed. The shadow side of the warrior is that s/he is most readily affronted and deeply wounded by others’ opinions, behavior or attitude (in regard to them) which the rest of us may more easily shrug off. The sign’s motto I am is more than a declaration of self-evidence, it is one of an overblown sense of importance. They don’t take much in, blasé about what you or we might be up to, but they do expect others to experience and appreciate their impact.

The first astrological house is that of self, but also of the physical body. And embodiment is a key factor in the Aries experience. These are not vague, floppy or whatever type people. Aries are individuals who are one with their purpose, exemplars of embodiment. No other sign is more comfortable in their skin. Buddha was born under this sign and the default brand of Aries spirituality is rather DIY. Aries outsource nothing  on that score looking to themselves as the be all end all of their existence. What these spiritual warriors do struggle with is their need for atten-hut!The titles of the Aries male and female chapters in our book, Sextrology, are The Oneand The Original, respectively. Aries man, with his signature bluster and sense of entitlement, takes up a lot of space and  is especially engineered to live life as if he were the only person on the planet, for better or worse. Aries woman none too patiently demands credit for her unique abilities and ideas, expecting others to fast-track her ambitions. Both are determined to win this contest called life. The sproating horns of the Aries symbol, a sign of dominance for the male, is also called the wise brow and nose of Athena, signifying acumen in the female. Taken together, Aries is about taking the top spot, unapologetically emerging onto whatever desired scene, being held up as exemplary, premier, first and foremost.

I was thinking how it is, during the lead up to the election, that one of the new rules of the game, as Democrats, this time around, is that we aren’t “supposed” to say anything negative about any of the Democratic nominees, especially certain ones. So as we deal with the far right telling us that facts are fake news, our fellow democratic allies tell us we can’t air our opinions either if it’s going to be what they consider negative or “divisive.” First of all I didn’t realize that airing ones opinion from the privacy of ones own laptop could wield such power, and, second, grow the fuck up. I champion your right to your opinion and you should champion mine and everyone else’s, especially if we are talking nuance of personalities and policies within our own party. For example, I think Beto is a wannabe pop star and a bad political candidate and a narcissist who thinks posting a video of himself getting a haircut is interesting while Elizabeth Warren, who will likely not get the nomination (because she is a woman) is the most qualified and inspiriting person running in the field. Notice I said “I think.” In case you forgot that means that this is my opinion. I might also say “I believe”, an other indication I’m expressing an opinion. I have also said things like “my spidey sense tells me” (which is even less an expression of an opinion but what is commonly known as a hunch), for instance, that Bernie might be something of a plant in the presidential race. I don’t have to back it up with evidence. I’m not saying it’s a fact. I’m saying it’s a hunch. I am just as entitled to my hunches as I am to my opinions. And so are you. I have had people, actually friends, threaten to unfollow or unfriend me on social media because I’ve aired such “feelings” (I’m using this, now, as a synonym for hunch) because they “can’t handle it?” Really? you can’t handle people having opinions or airing their hunches in public? Well yes then please do unfriend or unfollow me because you sound pretty unstable to me. Meanwhile these are typically the same people that go on their own rants and jags. It’s cool whatever. The following will seem very similar to what I just said but that’s okay. I ranted separately in like fashion and am just pasting it in here.

I think it’s so important to realize that we are the majority albeit largely unarmed. At that I won’t say deplorables but I will say purposefully disenfranchised (that goal of not offering free education and healthcare in American society) have been made to feel desperate (feeling you’ve nothing to lose makes you dangerous) and militarized and bred to believe that the educated, motivated lovers of democracy who would seek to elevate that manipulated (made) segment of our population are the enemy of the people. Republicans are divided into a number of related camps. There are those who don’t want this country to be a democracy but a plutocracy bordering on an autocracy; the Russians are and have been involved for decades and there is a Republican camp that has been comprised to varying venal degrees that they are towing the plutocratic line because of the kompromat on them; and there are the so-called evangelicals. If the population is saddled with debt and no education (thus poverty level income) no healthcare which is more burdensome if you have babies and more mouths to feed then it is miles more difficult to rise from that disenfranchised state; and the Republican machinery continues to point the finger at us as the culprit so those poor people continue to villainize us and vote for them and learn to hate more and more based on race, gender, sexual orientation and religion. This is isn’t accidental. This has been designed for more than a half century. Graham, Barr, McConnell, on and on…they are not only the true culprits but the most compromised. They’ve had to sell their souls and band together. Even the devil-in-chief, who has been pro choice all his life, has had to change his tune. In his case (and the Russians knew this) that thing, like the Mountain in GOT, has no conscience and no humanity left in him. But we have to change tack too. Yes we must continue to do battle armed with justice and ideals and the Constitution but we must do more. We must first remember there are more of us then of them. And though we shouldn’t become militant and start buying guns ourselves—this would only be line their pockets anyway—we do need to wrap ourselves in true patriotic ideals and keep standing up together. As the Democratic leaders move toward (self-) impeachment we need to get ready for the fight of our lives. There should be weekly protests starting now. We need our politicians, yes, but also other voices. The power of celebrity can really work in our favor the way it did during the Viet Nam era. Only then John and Yoko leading the charge were still grass roots, humble individuals despite their wealth, a great deal of which they spent on peace and freedom. They weren’t going from award show to award show wondering what to wear next on the red carpet. They were in the same hotpants and jeans they wore yesterday. They weren’t deciding which interior designer would do up their next mansion, they were using their bed as a war room. Even our own “downtown” performers these days have lost their spirit of activism and are much more concerned about their own hair and wardrobe and what ussies they’re taking with their (even more) celebrity “friends.” What happened to us? What happened to War Is Over (if you want it)? What happened to Power to the People? Pre election, we all must know, that there will be a Trumped up reason to start yet another when we are still fighting two others (and those are just the ones that are on the books). This is Cersei Lannister stocking that explosive green stuff under the city and we are like so many Margery Tyrells, slowly boiling frogs, getting incrimentally used to the newest daily normal not noticing what is potentially really going on here. All the evils are related and money making. The building of “tent cities” aka concentration camps along our border lines the pockets of those building them while young girls, mainly, get separated and sold into sex slavery. But they are also an “invasion” so they are villified as they are victimized. The wall is a developmental contract for someone giving major kickbacks. And we infight over the fact that we can’t have our own opinions about which democratic candidate is crappy or not? Because that’s divisive. Beto is a bad candidate Warren is a good one. Are you going to get on me for saying that in this rant du jour? Are you going to unfriend me because I’d rather have Kamala than Bernie and say so? Am I your enemy? Or are you just being further distracted while you peruse pictures for the most recent Met Gala?

To view the original Sabian Symbol themed 2015 Cosmic Blague corresponding to this day: Flashback! The degree point of the Sabian Symbol may at times be one degree higher than the one listed here. The Blague portrays the starting degree of for this day ( 0°,  for instance), as I typically post in the morning, while the Sabian number corresponds to the end point (1°) of that same 0°-1° period. There are 360  degrees spread over 365/6 days per year—so they nearly, but not exactly, correlate.

Typos happen. I don’t have a proofreader. And I like to just write, post and go! Copyright 2020 Wheel Atelier Inc. All Rights Reserved. Get your HAUTE ASTROLOGY 2020 Weekly Horoscope ebooks by Starsky + Cox.

Capricorn 29° (January 19)

We enter the sign of Aquarius today at 3:39 and change. And change should be the operative word. And we have a favorite client today which is lovely. It is the last moment that we have some kind of excuse for things to suck. Tomorrow, we will come to realize, we will have the same arguments and issues and all sorts of probably new problems. I will write to all my friends tomorrow “phew” and few will write back. My one conservative UK friend will tell me I am safe now. Okay. Sure. I reply something like well we are at the beginning of becoming safer. I have been unsure of the state of his soul. Does he pretend to be a conservative because he works and has been paid for thirty years quite handsomely for doing so; or are his stories about Boris really sincere. I went to a gala once, invited by a famous friend, at Hampton Court; it was when Brown was prime minister, and that troll Boris tried to make intimate-like with my host and Sarah Brown, who plopped herself down next to me and my friend, for a quick moment, which triggered the amazing, funny, loving Peter Kay, across from me at the big round table to shout, really loudly!, “oh, fuck off Boris.” My love for Peter would grow day by day were it not for that moment, but it certainly did all the more jump suddenly as a result. 

The trick about writing the book that I am currently writing: Astrology is at once archetypal, analogous and metaphorical, but it is likewise metaphysical, actual and actionable, providing a certain behind the scenes pass to the workings of the imagined universe, and we qualify it, purposefully, as such. Oh fuck it I will say: The whole point of having us in those positions was because you needed us to do the actual work, because you were going to be en Suisse and your mind would be elsewhere in any case; the problem is you would swoop in one day a week and overcompensate, pretending to be in charge; and one such day you reversed a decision I had made in your absence—not being a pussy I called you on it that day and you reverted to my decision. But then you again capitulated without my knowledge. That alone was an offense. But what you probably have deluded yourself for which to not take responsibility is the fact that this all led to the whole court case that absorbed my life for almost a year. And the point is it’s the same thing. You have no peripheral vision…you just see what you need to see and the rest of reality on the sidelines of your self-purposed myopia are just blurs. You caused us great harm as a result of pretending to create us good. And I transcended that. I remained your friend. Stupid me. Because you are a menace and you will always be one.  You are reckless with others. You quietly wreak havoc on people’s lives and I’m not longer interested in being associated with you. Oh and it occurred to me after the fact that you did this back in the day at TP also—you leave people in the lurch and talk out of both sides of your mouth and are the most disloyal of people. I really kind of loathe you lady. Ah that felt amazing.

The following blocks of text are exceprts from my first year of  Blagues, nos. 1466-1470. I am reading through all of my Blagues, five per day, and posting some samples here. Now, in my sixth year of writing this Blague, by the time I get to my seventh, I will have journeyed through all the daily Blagues of my first five years. If that’s confusing I apologize. Year seven, I’ll only have to read through year six, once a day.

I’m going to write for exactly ten minutes because I have to catch a train today from NYC back to Boston, well Dedham, actually where we’ve parked our car. All I can think about is lying down and watching RuPaul, Game of Thrones and Barry. We will likely pick up a piece of fish, an avocado and a box of salad and that will be dinner. These last several days in New York have been exhilirating and exhausting in equal measure. We are so grateful to have stayed mainly at our friends’ house, though we did stay at the Jane Hotel last night, which was very quiet, and from where I am currently writing this. Laurie Litchford’s name was really Jane. I just realized that. Oh well. Anyway…yesterday morning as we were readying to head to Dover Street Market to meet A., I was saying to S. that, if we decide to work with Barneys New York again, I forgot/reminded myself that we not only did product events with their stores in NYC and LA before but we launched our first book with them, Simon Doonan designer the windows and al that. Simon also endorsed the book on it’s back jacket. We walked in the pouring rain from Washington Street to Thirtieth and Lex and sat down at Rose’s Bakery and I blurted all this out to A. No sooner had I done so when Jonathan Adler (Simon Doonan’s husband) walked in with a friend! It keeps happening folks! The synchronicities! Anyway we had a cheery reunion and Jonathan’s mot du jour is now genteel. Last time we saw Jonathan was probably after we came back from working at Wallpaper* in London when we went down to his studio and he met us barefoot covered in clay, fresh from his potter’s wheel. (I always wondered if that wasn’t a little staged, and I actually hope it was because it was an innocent and vivid display. And anyway Jonathan is a Leo so he likes to be found in process, like Tom Sawyer white washing a fence.) At that time his mot du jour was cute. Like: “Isn’t American cute?” Which is what he actually said to us about our impressions on being back from the UK. To this day we say “isn’t America cute?”, a lot, but nowadays, mostly, ironically, cuz shit is anything than cute lately.

After lunch—spicey lentil soup and panisse with tapenade—we headed to the Park Avenue Armory for the TEFAF show. The first thing I thought was it was a fancy version of any kind of fair, the last one I attended being the LA Book Fair in 2013 which is where I last saw Jack Pierson. First we saw Richard Green had a booth with Pissaros and Renoirs. We know him through his wife and her twin sister so we said hello. A. knew the folks at Hemmerle. We were already saying how everything was genteel, picking up on Adler’s expression in a joking way of bonding as one does when one is arrested at the age of (a) fourteen (year-old girl), as we all are. And then who did we behold but, yep, Jack Pierson, looking rather shaky and delicate, being led around by a fellow we believe to be his steady boyfriend. I took the opportunity to break the five year old ice and I followed and said: Jack. He turned around not displeased to see me. We each asked if the other was well with our own special intent. And we both said yes very and that was that. I think I touched his face spontaneously. We will never be the close friends that we were; and obviously something has altered in his life. I can only say I truly hope he is well and just had a sprained ankle or something and I send him every amount of love and peace.

We breezed through Barneys then headed downtown to grab our stuff from R&R’s and headed over to check in at the Jane Street Hotel. The place is creepy but it was fine for one night. R. was already there at a memorial service in the ballroom and the other R. was heading over to meet us as we left the hotel. We tried getting into via Carota but ended up at Buvette. We had a lovely liquid trip through Bandol and conversation was lively and mostly in output mode. We went back to R&R’s and had a little night cap and I ticked the dog’s tummy for an hour on end. The television in the room didn’t work so we planned to get a little off the hotel price; this morning we had a couple of coffees in the restaurant off the lobby which used to be Gitane which was great and now is something called Old Rose which is not. We got ourselves some Sweet Greens and headed up to Penn Station. In the cab I was thinking I should contact Caitlin who lives in Portland as I’ll be there next week. I have yet to read her book but I have the pamplet for the book on me. I get to the station and open my email and I have a note from her sending me a link to a comedian who does bits about the star signs. Another synchronicity. We eat our lunch in the station and then get in line for the train, herded by the porter that performs a comedy act of his own, and has been doing so for decades. In line behind us a woman says “you look so familiar to me” to S. We zero in on the fact that she is Maud, a jewelry designer and one time client who lives on Beacon Hill. Another sign that we are threading through and all is a cosmic go. And now here I am on the Acela. S.’s seat doesn’t work. The tray table won’t come up and her seat won’t recline. She doesn’t care but I’m beside myself as I often am over things like this. It drives me absolutely bonkers. And now I’m going to get back to other work!

To view the original Sabian Symbol themed 2015 Cosmic Blague corresponding to this day: Flashback! The degree point of the Sabian Symbol may at times be one degree higher than the one listed here. The Blague portrays the starting degree of for this day ( 0°,  for instance), as I typically post in the morning, while the Sabian number corresponds to the end point (1°) of that same 0°-1° period. There are 360  degrees spread over 365/6 days per year—so they nearly, but not exactly, correlate.

Typos happen. I don’t have a proofreader. And I like to just write, post and go! Copyright 2020 Wheel Atelier Inc. All Rights Reserved. Get your HAUTE ASTROLOGY 2020 Weekly Horoscope ebooks by Starsky + Cox.

Capricorn 28° (January 18)

I have been awake all night and I have to be very careful of my health at this point. The fucked up thing is that I will not get to bed tonight either until at least two in the morning. So will be about thirty hours of sleeplessness which isn’t great. There is an upside to this week though already as I have my ducks more in a row than expected and now it is really just over three months where I need to be my most vigilant self. I imagine, in that time, we might have more news on the real estate end so I’m just going to totally go with that flow. And, so what: I have to write for fourteen hours a day for a few months? It will be totally worth it. I can still knock this out of the park if I am rested, and that remains the plan. I have a total inventory of all our belongings pretty much at this point so that takes off a good deal of stress in itself. Live is just a series of boxes. It used to be a series of beds. I am going to put all self-indulgences on hold for a while and put all that time I waste into ninety minutes of yoga as the world warms up in the coming months. I mean, winter is a third over and that is very good news to me. I am making a lovely marinated shrimp for dinner which we will sautée and serve, simply, with salad. Last Tango in Halifax added yet another season and suddenly I feel like I’m watching oldie television. It will be back to Lupin which I also love. Desperate for the return of Call My Agent. First an Inauguration on Wednesday and the return of the show on Thursday.

The following blocks of text are exceprts from my first year of  Blagues, nos. 1461-1465. I am reading through all of my Blagues, five per day, and posting some samples here. Now, in my sixth year of writing this Blague, by the time I get to my seventh, I will have journeyed through all the daily Blagues of my first five years. If that’s confusing I apologize. Year seven, I’ll only have to read through year six, once a day.

I had a dream last night that I was at a Roches concert and it was Maggie Roche’s birthday so we were all to gather backstage, afterward, to have a little party. The venue was a cross between the old Bottom Line and Joe’s Pub, back in the day, before they made renovations. I awoke at 5:20 and had opened my laptop by 5:40 and the first thing on my FB feed was a posting by Suzzy Roche talking about how she once wrote Mother Teresa to ask for permission to perform a Christmas show and send the proceeds to her and her charity. She didn’t hear back but performed the show anyway. Then months and months later a response from Mother Teresa arrived, delivered without a stamp!!! I could read snippets only of the letter on FB but it talked about the right hand not knowing what the left hand was doing and it was very thankful and offered blessings and was signed by M.T.  Then, somehow, Suzzy lost the letter and has been looking for it down through the years—the letter was dated 1988—and had never found it and it haunted her seemingly. And then just the other day Suzzy entered her apartment and there on the floor of her living room was what looked like a folded piece of paper which she almost picked up and absent-mindedly threw away. But she looked at it and—yes, you guessed it—it was the very letter.

I immediately posted about my dream and then directly seeing her post. I mentioned in my comment to her that it was Maggie’s birthday in my dream and in that moment I “realized” (or at least this was my flash) that Maggie, who left us over a year ago, must have had a hand in the rematerialization of that cherished letter from Calcutta all those years ago. Though it’s not my cosmic experience primarily, I felt it perfectly fit one of the original criteria of this Cosmic Blague, which was, is, to relate experiences of inexplicable nature along with the Universe’s “jokes on you/us all.” This is no joke (a phrase I can’t not hear in my brain as spoken by Kate McKinnon in an Australian accent from the movie Rough Night). If you haven’t seen that film, by the way: You should.  Anyway there was a sense of faith being restored upon waking today. What I didn’t tell Suzzy (because she’d think I’m a weirdo) is that she and her sisters have factored into my dreams for decades. I have been a huge fan ever since I first heard the record in my college freshman-year dorm. And I saw them at least a dozen times over the years in various forms and am friendly with Terre whom I love and admire and respect deeply. I don’t know Suzzy personally. The sisters occupy different spheres. But Suzzy is a Libra like me. Terre is the opposite sign of Aries, which isn’t all that opposite to Libra at all. That was the most pleasurable bit of productinating I have ever done! Now to get back to the actual work at hand. Wish me luck people.

Of all the cosmic things that can, would or do happen, yesterday likely proviced the most cosmic of occurances to date in the present writing of this Blague (there have been some freaky experiences from the past that I’ve recalled here as well). The day started out innocently enough. We had gone to L’Artusi for a late anniversary celebration on Thursday evening so we were slow to emerge yesterday but decided that we would stick together and tackle chores and hit marks together. First off, I must say, that the two topics I brought up en route here on the train the other day were: Nicky and Sean from Tea & Sympathy; and my lamenting about Pastis and wondering what happened to it. So last things first: Stella informs me that Pastis is actually reopening early May (hello, when is it now) on Gansevoort Street, literally around the corner as we are on Washington between Gansevoort and Horatio. So we walked by there en route to the bank yesterday morning and saw they are nearly (but not quite) open. Fine. We also spotted a place to grab some lunch salads later. We headed to the bank to send a wire transfer to the UK, then strolled onto Thirteenth Street to see if those criminals were there. They were. I peeked into the shop which wasn’t yet open. We decided as we headed down Greenwich Avenue to send them good wishes despite the pain they once caused us. As we strolled by Tea & Sympathy I casually peered in as best I could against the glare slowing but not stopping; still I could see a figure with wooly hair crouch down and point to outstrecthed arms and index fingers at us with a twisted expression that just screamed: Oy!

Out rushed Nicky whom we likely haven’t seen in a decade in the flesh. And it was as if not a moment had passed in all these years since we were a regular fixture on the block and in the shop. She quickly caught us up on the news of which I’ve had some inkling—about maybe having to close shop due to the greedy owner of the building, well, buildings, plural that make up that side of Greenwich Avenue from Twelfth to Thirteenth. It was a vivid lament as is warranted. We bemoaned the loss of the culture in which we lived in this neighborhood dating back to the late eighties and all through the nineties well into the aughts. And then the conversation swung the complete other way with Nicky rattling off jokes just as she always did back in the day. Then Sean appeared and Nicky exited and he told us all about their house up state and showed us pictures. We said we had to go. And he countered before you do have you heard…I said I think we have and listed the punchlines Nicky had just delivered. Oh, right, he said but I’ve got some more. The jokes were all incredibly funny. We then went our merry way down to our favorite wine shop on Washington south of Morton. In and out. Then back up Washington to the flat when all of a sudden the thing happened…..

We were going to be meeting our designer and so we were need to crack a conundrum in the creative process, an impasse to which we were coming time and again, hopefully before seeing her. The operative word was star, in that we were discussing how to employ the shape vis a vis our own logo which is also something of a star, or what we call the aster. Anyway I don’t want to give anything away. All you need to know is we were conversationally on the star…when…up the street as we were walking we saw what appeared to be a white balloon in the shape of a five-pointed star hovering in the air in the middle of the street, such that I thought it must be attached with a string to a car or a street sign; but it started to float up and fly around and we suddenly realized it wasn’t a balloon at all. As we approached in descended and pretty much landed out our feet. We stared at it, just a foot away, but still couldn’t make out what it was or of what it was made. I reached out to touch it and realized it was foam, bubbles, like that which would have escaped from a washing machine overloaded with detergent. And then it lifted into the air again and flew past us hovering high above the middle of the street before flying past third, fourth floor windows and disappearing over a roof top. It was nothing short of weirdly miraculous. Thankfully S. took a video of the whole thing.

Our designer, A.,who is over from London, arrived and we chit-chatted and started in on the work at hand. And we said to her we have this miraculous thing we have to show you. And she said, “oh, did you have a Christian Dior moment?” And for some reason we just let that comment sail by like a star made of soap suds. I don’t know why we didn’t question what she exactly meant by that. So we worked and talked and got to the impasse we two had gotten to, catching her up in thought to that point, so we could tackle it together and unknot the problem so to make it into an opporunity, when we said. Okay, so, this is where we were in our conversation today walking on Washington Street so we broke out the video that S. took. And A. immediately said what is that white star? It was so obviously a star that even from far away, looking into a tiny iPhone screen, it was a perfect five-pointer. She was as astonished as we were. And then she said well really that was a Christian Dior moment. And we were finally like wait, what does that mean.

Apparently Christian Dior was deciding whether or not to start his own eponymous company and he was walking along the sidewalk when suddenly out of nowhere a brass or bronze star landed at his feet on the sidewalk, le trottoir. He took it as a sign that yes he should start his own eponymous collection and thus did. I will stop there.

Okay so picking up from where we left off yesterday, today being Sunday. On Friday night, after A. left, S. and I went over to Chelsea Market and picked up some Miznom to bring back and eat. We were overstimulated by the strange phenomena of the day and we stayed up talking till midnight. I had asked S. who, if any entity was behind the star incident, who would it have been (having an answer myself ready). She said Laurie and that was exactly what I was thinking. Our friend Laurie died of cancer a month after her thirtieth birthday. It is to her that Sextrologyis dedicated. Through her we met Rob Weisbach who originally bought the book (although his imprint at Morrow was dissolved when Harper Collins bought Morrow and he left before our book was published). Laurie died a decade before, but we stayed close with Rob.

Laurie wrote an unfinished novel which is hinged (see the Dior story from yesterday) on a character who finds a penny on the street and the story unfolds from there—in her manuscript she taped an actual Penny. We have the unfinished manuscript in our possession as her boyfriend, Peter, who took care of her till the end, gave it to us. In the novel there is a couple, inspired by us, who buy a farm. In 1998 we bought a property on Cape Cod that was called Mimosa Farm. IN the first week there we went to the local bookshop and Laurie’s best friend from her creative writing masters program at Binghamton, who we only met once at Laurie’s funeral, had moved to the same town and opened a book shop. That was cosmic kismet enough, no? It really doesn’t end there. It continues. A few years ago S. did a solo show at Joe’s Pub and while backstage waiting to go on she silently, secretly dedicated the show to Laurie. Peter, whom we hadn’t seen in over a decade, was on his way to the train for East Hampton; and suddenly stopped in his tracks. He had seen on Facebook or somewhere that S. was doing a show, and he was overwhelmed by the sudden need to ditch his Hamptons plan and to beeline down to Joe’s Pub. Imagine S.’s reaction when she saw he was in the audience, after dedicating the show to Laurie. So Friday night we spoke all about this the two of us and went over the entire timeline of Laurie’s illness and, S. thinks and I agree, processed the whole thing for the first time in twenty five years. Because it was twenty five years ago.

Yesterday we woke up had breakfast and we were meant to meet Alice at 1030 at Ted Muhling but we checked and the shop didn’t open till later. So we decided we would meet at 1130 instead at de Vera on Howard Street. Fine. We were early and kipped into Rick Owen (A. was also apparently early and was browsing around Open Ceremony). We went into de Vera and had a momentary misunderstanding and snit so I decided to go back outside. The shop is amazing but it has some heavy energy and I think it was messing with me. So I just gave us both a little space. I actually walked around the full city block and came back to the side of the shop–through the window I could see A. and S. were looking at jewels. I sat on one of those water valve things under my umbrella as it was spitting. I was probably sitting there for a minute before I heard “Oh my god.” And, will wonders never cease this weekend, it was Peter! with his daughter Praise (who is twelve and we’ve never met her since we’ve only seen Peter that one time at Joe’s Pub in, like, at least twenty years) and with him was another Rob, not Weisbach but Birnbach whom we hadn’t seen since Laurie’s funeral. Can you imagine the shock. I told Peter through hugs and kisses and welling eyes that we had spent the entire night speaking about him to which he was like: Naaah. I said you’ll see. We went into de Vera (which means “of the truth”) and S. started nearly shouting no, no, no, no, as she rushed toward Peter and hugged him, then Praise then Rob. It was too much. We filled A. in and she was blown away. Turns out Peter knows de Vera—they had had dinner together. So it wasn’t as if he was just walking by. He was headed to de Vera at the exact same time, practically as we planned to arrive. Can You. Dig. It?

To view the original Sabian Symbol themed 2015 Cosmic Blague corresponding to this day: Flashback! The degree point of the Sabian Symbol may at times be one degree higher than the one listed here. The Blague portrays the starting degree of for this day ( 0°,  for instance), as I typically post in the morning, while the Sabian number corresponds to the end point (1°) of that same 0°-1° period. There are 360  degrees spread over 365/6 days per year—so they nearly, but not exactly, correlate.

Typos happen. I don’t have a proofreader. And I like to just write, post and go! Copyright 2020 Wheel Atelier Inc. All Rights Reserved. Get your HAUTE ASTROLOGY 2020 Weekly Horoscope ebooks by Starsky + Cox.

Capricorn 27° (January 17)

I am absolutely not sleeping. It’s at an alarming juncture. The days are all blending together. We have chat with Tim today which will go well but I’m surely losing my noodle

The following blocks of text are exceprts from my first year of  Blagues, nos. 1455-1460. I am reading through all of my Blagues, five per day, and posting some samples here. Now, in my sixth year of writing this Blague, by the time I get to my seventh, I will have journeyed through all the daily Blagues of my first five years. If that’s confusing I apologize. Year seven, I’ll only have to read through year six, once a day.

The summer plans are starting to firm up. And we found out we’ll be traveling mid to late July for our overseas jaunt. Looks like we will be sailing from Sicily which is kind of amazing. It won’t be the usual crew this summer which is a bummer but one should always remain open to new experiences and people and at least we will know a few of the folks. It is pretty great to have these milestones because you can see how much things have changed. For years it felt like not much ever did, but as we move forward, I see an acceleration in my accomplishments. In the meantime I have some major axes to grind. Here is a missive I just sent off.

As you can see from some correspondence below, the Afterglow Festival had several talks over the years about creating a Playwright’s Residency at the FAWC and to fundraise $30K to that end as directed by M. Actually the conversation dated back to a meeting I had with MM before M even took over. I met with M twice in person and he had suggested we raise this $30K and then, when I began to follow up, he changed the story on me (it was in fact like he forgot our whole conversations or at least that was his stance to avoid, I guess, following through on what was a solid plan.

Since D has taken over the Provincetown Theater, he has created a solo-play festival (which is the main thrust of our Afterglow Festival) and has even booked upwards of four artists (some performing the same works we premier) in effect poaching these artists from Afterglow which is a thing one learns to avoid in Tiny Town. Now I see that he is creating a Playwrights Residency with you along the very same lines as what Afterglow and FAWC discussed doing over the last five years. Our Playwrights Initiative already had bothDW and TK on board as advisors to the would be programming (and residency) we sought to collaborate with the FAWC on.

When I tried to get back on track with M and get an understanding of how it is our plans could be “forgotten” or go by the wayside, he became very defensive, and (the symptom becoming the cause) seemed to blame me for my reaction to his sudden reversal of our plans. Anyway, I wanted to go on record with these emails. And you can check any past log books to see the actual four times I visited the FAWC to discuss this. Once with MM, once with S.V., and twice with M, who finally green-lighted the endeavor and then conveniently back-tracked.

I know there is nothing you can do about it. And that you will continue to do this thing I proposed to FAWC, now, with the Provincetown Theater. But I thought you should know of all the hard work and planning I had already put into this and the Pulitzer Prize winning professionals I already on board as the Advisory Board of this Playwright’s Initiative. I will add that over the years I have cast D as a reader in Afterglow shows and even allowed him to direct a solo play that we premiered. I have involved him in what were our Theater Forums (which did in fact result in the positive overturn of the PTC Board and ultimately led to his being appointed Artistic Director. D has been well aware of our programming as well as our future plans. He surely knows our roster of artists. And mention of our plans for a Playwrights Initiative with the FAWC was announced in past outreach to our own board and sponsors, which is something I ran by Michael Roberts in 2015. It was ONLY when I ASKED Robert by email (again see below) if I could specifically say to possible donors that we were raising a separate $30K for this residency he said we should model on the Ohio group that he seemed to forget the entire two in-person conversations and back-tracked, proposing a watered down September event (which was impossible since it was the EXACT same time as our annual Afterglow Festival which happens each September.

You will hear years-old frustration in my note here today. And I must say that seeing a notice of your collaboration with D and Provincetown Theater has certainly stirred my passion. Because I have passion about this and I’ve worked hard on this idea over the years and engaged top people to help me and, as you know in non-profit world, so much of ones free time and energy goes into upwards of eighty hours a week at certain points in the year just to pull of the miracles we do with fundraising and programming and all the rest of it. As we have no brick and mortar, I was so happy that the FAWC had been interested in working together. And it was one thing to have those promises dashed by Michael four years ago, it’s quite another to see my idea now emerge between you and another entity.

I’m feeling my inner Penny Arcade today which means I’m a bit sickened by sycophancy and the loss of true artistry to the cult of worship and venal reward. Continuing the good fight to help truly progressive, emerging and veteran performing artists find more and more audience in a sea of gentrification. Translation: Time to crank up the fudraising machinery for our non-profit festival, series, and overall presentation work. To that end I will be working on this as a starter, editing it, massaging it into place. Something like:

Happy Spring 2019! I hope this finds you well and thriving. As the daffodilsclose out their seasonal performance here on Cape Cod, I too am in a spirit of renewal and thus reaching out to you and other hopefully returning Sponsors of the Afterglow Festival. This will be our ninth year; and there  has always been something magical about that number for me. So much so that, back in 2010 when I started this endeavor, I named the parent non-profit company of theAfterglow Festival, 333 Inc., nine being the number of the muses. And in our first year (though we comped many sponsors, colleagues, students and seniors) we ended up selling exactly 333 full price tickets! This was more than a fun fact for me—it still feels like something of a sign. And here we are, nine years later, hoping to continue to make some real magic.

In the ensuing years, the Afterglow Festival has preserved Provincetown’s birthright as the birth place of modern American theater and performance. The festival has premiered and developed scores of solo plays and pieces that have moved off-Broadway and to famed stages around the world—musical, comedy, dance, opera, hip-hop, cabaret and uncategorical genres—by artists who make headlines for their art and social narratives.

We have presented over seventy artists since 2011, many of whom have gone on to stellar career success on the stage, in film and on television. It was at Afterglow that much of our resident and visiting audiences first heard of artists like Bridget Everett, Cole Escola, Our Lady J, if not members of our own advisory board like Taylor Mac, Penny Arcade, Justin Vivian Bond, John Cameron Mitchell and other now more renowned performers. Afterglow has created a home in Provincetown for these vital artists who feel a spiritual bond to the town, to its theatrical heritage, and to our local audiences who embrace them.

Over the years, Provincetown has increasingly attracted big-name acts in season that garner desired revenue for the town’s for-profit venues. Then, suddenly late summer, the Afterglow Festival takes stage. And for the past eight years, Afterglow has won audience trust for its curation of superb live programming by performing artists they’ve probably never heard of, as evidenced by the steady growth in the festival’s annual attendance. Likewise, over the years, the costs of producing a festival like ours (including venue rental, travel and lodging for artists) have also increased, but with your help we may continue to bring tomorrow’s headline performers to Provincetown every September.

Afterglow is supported by Joe’s Pub @ the Public in NYC, where we have presented, for the benefit of our non-profit, group performances by the Afterglow “family” of artists. And in collaboration with the American Repertory Theater, whose directorship was impressed with our reputation and achievement, we launched our Afterglow@Oberon (formerly Glowberon) series, now entering its fifth year, bringing our artists to Boston-Cambridge audiences as well. The series has contributed to Afterglow’s overall outreach and praise by the media, from the Boston Globe, Boston Herald, PBS-WGBH and others.

Under a new 333auspice—Glow, “A Moveable Festival”—funded through separate grants and support, we began creating ancillary performances and small tours throughout New England for our arists who aim to entertain audiences with their works and seek to expand and evolve social consciousness more ubiquitously with their message. All of our artists, as it turns out, are activists of sorts who proliferate positive change in our communities, from local enclaves like Provincetown, to the global one at large.

As we champion the Afterglow performers whose careers have begun to soar since first appearing with us in festival, we continue to introduce and incubate new crops of gifted artists, giving them the opportunity to create, present, premier and develop new theater and performance works here in Provincetown; making for them an artistic home; and providing them sacred stage space to experiment, express and explore their art and craft.

I sincerely hope that you will return this year as a valued sponsor of Afterglow; and that we might welcome you to our shows, introduce you to our artists, and otherwise share in the joy that your valued patronage provides for our hardworking, devoted and talented performers, be they emerging or established, whom we are humbly privileged to present in festival. Afterglow 2019 takes stage September 10-14 at the Art House Provincetown, with special opening night festivities, on September 9, for artists and sponsors alike.

To view the original Sabian Symbol themed 2015 Cosmic Blague corresponding to this day: Flashback! The degree pointof the Sabian Symbol will be one degree higher than the one listed for today. The Blague portrays the starting degree of for this day ( 0°,  for instance), as I typically post in the morning, while the Sabian number corresponds to the end point (1°) of that same 0°-1° period. There are 360  degrees spread over 365 or 6 days per year—so they near but not exactly correlate.

It’s about 3PM in the afternoon and I hope to get enough of an interesting Blague hammered, here, with some speed and accuracy as I have myriad to-dos on my list today. What I’m most interested in doing is communicating to myself what marks I must hit on a daily basis, from May to September, as this is the time of year where I add a huge chunk (producing my non-profit theater and performance festival) to my quotidien grind, which by rights, should be anything but. I must admit I don’t feel particularly unshaky as my inner ears continue to have a mind and life of their own. But it does come down to more than that. There is a certain level of sobriety that I feel needs to be achieved; not in the traditional sense (although certain abstainance is always a good idea at intervals during the year) but moreso in light of my interpersonal relationships. I’ve pretty much spoken up where and when it has been necessary; and I’ve surely given both B. and D. (oh, and Sven, too) a snootful to suck on (and up); but beyond that I really don’t feel as if I am at war with anyone, or need be. I mean I never want to be at war with anyone, but that has not been my fate overall. When you are working in any kind of public arena you will brush, bounce, bump up against others who will (try to) use or exploit you in some way. I have had artists come to festival for instance and purposefully tell their friends and other would-be audience to stay away because they are “working in progress” and otherwise collecting the same stipend I fundraise for them, disallowing us from recuperating any monies that we do put out. I find that sort of thing reprehensible. Just as I find people at other venues poaching artists to be a sleaze move.

And then 3pm becomes 4:30 and you find you strayed away to make beds and vacuum the whole house and get the chicken stock going and shoveled the ashes out of the fireplace and flossed your teeth and put a sweater you need for New York into a delicate cycle and called Barneys New York in Boston to see if they can recommend a place to mend cashmere. And in that time you’ve also tried to further hammer some performing artists into slots for the coming festival and series seasons. A kingsized mattress was delivered. Did you know they come in boxes now? And so I’m having someone come and take the exiting one away. Also I think I found a service in New York City where I can ship my moth eaten cashmere to be fixed and they will ship it back. Something called AlterKnit. I have to ready the festival website for givers. I need to work through a casting list and get these shows booked. May is going to be a combination of reading through old Blague entries, writing a new one, working on rejigging the proposal, getting brain around sample material and format for all of the signs. Only on weekends and in the evenings can I work on the festival I think. There are only so many hours in a day. By June the rejigging and the sample content should be complete. And there should be notes on what might make a good show. And then June will be piecing that show together into some kind of script for myself and then I have all of July and August and a third of September to get the rest into works. I should be able to finish the HA books completely in July as my daily work on the boat which could be a lot of fun. August will be all about rehearsing and hopefully getting some musical accompaniment going. Maybe I can have Drew or someone come up and visit. But probably better to get a player here that can handle it or see if Matt would like to do it. The point is that we have a number of possibilities for pulling this all off.

I won’t even be thinking about the new circuit, either, until May or June. And that can be in the course of any given day. I will reach out to Becca at Endicott and see if she would like a repeat performance by one of our artists. I need to also put a letter out to the artists to tell them what I’m on about. September would be a great time to start talking to the corporate folks about fundraising for my “circuit.” I need to build allies systematically. And it’s all about units of time. One of the secrets of success. The difference between multitasking and seamlessly juggling is a very fine line that much is certain. Anyway thanks for letting me vent the disparate thoughts in my head today. (And spewing some resentments I’ve felt over the last couple of days) It’s been most helpful, dear reader, and I promise I’ll get back to more cosmic things soon. But some days I need to just be a human being.

To view the original Sabian Symbol themed 2015 Cosmic Blague corresponding to this day: Flashback! The degree point of the Sabian Symbol may at times be one degree higher than the one listed here. The Blague portrays the starting degree of for this day ( 0°,  for instance), as I typically post in the morning, while the Sabian number corresponds to the end point (1°) of that same 0°-1° period. There are 360  degrees spread over 365/6 days per year—so they nearly, but not exactly, correlate.

Typos happen. I don’t have a proofreader. And I like to just write, post and go! Copyright 2020 Wheel Atelier Inc. All Rights Reserved. Get your HAUTE ASTROLOGY 2020 Weekly Horoscope ebooks by Starsky + Cox.

Capricorn 26° (January 16)

The blue meanies are creeping up. I am losing time schedule wise and I’m a bit lost in a swirl of anxiety.

The following blocks of text are exceprts from my first year of  Blagues, nos. 1451-1455. I am reading through all of my Blagues, five per day, and posting some samples here. Now, in my sixth year of writing this Blague, by the time I get to my seventh, I will have journeyed through all the daily Blagues of my first five years. If that’s confusing I apologize. Year seven, I’ll only have to read through year six, once a day.

It’s Easter and we are in the sign of Taurus. I have the return of my positional vertigo, on the left side only. I forgot about it until I drove today to the fam. We only stayed a few hours and after another attempt we got off in Boston and I switched places with S.. I’ve got to get to the bottom of this which I’m determined to do. It really is starting to freak me out a bit and so I have to do all I can to keep whatever weirdness might ensue at bay as best I can which is to say not causing it. Sometimes not everything is meant to be understood. You dig. So I’ve told you before I think that the voice in my head is a black woman. I think that’s a really good sign.

The move from Libra to Scorpio is like a long day’s journey into night. Just as the first uber masculine energized first sign Aries is followed by its opposite uber feminine powered Taurus, here, on the other side of the Zodiac, Libra, the sign of high consciousness, is followed by Scorpio, the deep dark recesses of the subconscious. The only sign with co-rule planets, Pluto and Mars, the former being very much the underworld version of the latter: Pluto, or the Greek Hades, with his eponymous subterranean abode is the embodiment, as is his female counter part, Persephone, of not only our own subconscious but that which is still universally so: as yet unearthed truths, mysteries, discoveries, cures and clues as to the nature of our universe.  And whether in their own mysterious interior, or in that of those in their lives, or people, society, in general Scorpio people are determined to get to the bottom of what’s making everyone and everything tick. Thus, they are the first to tune into theticks of people, places and things, seeing their way into that which others might be (consciously or subconsciously) hiding and that which is kept hidden, secret, taboo culturally and sociologically.

Scorpio is the fixed-water signs–fixed signs being the second in a trio of signs—cardinal, fixed, mutable—that make up each of the astrological quadrants. Scorpio is the middle sign in the third quadrant, that which correlates to the intellectual and experiential realm of life, how one relates to other individuals and groups. One of Libra, which kicks off this quandrant, is We are (opposing the sign of Aries, I am); while Scorpio’s mottos are We have(opposing the sign of Taurus, I have) and I desire. Fixed-signs, fortify, intensify, concentrate and distill. Fixed-water translates to ice, minerals, crystals and, by extension, gems wrought by subterranean heat and pressure. Macrocosmically, gems, jewels are a metaphor for the as yet hidden meanings and wisdom and other such discoveries which effect us all, collectively, as well as repressed bits of ourselves awaiting to be mined. Scorpio people tend to be probling of others but rather sphynxlike themselves, guarded. The sign has many totems—the scorpion, the spider, the serpent, the lizard, the dragon, all of which lie in wait—the phoenix too which rises and falls, like the eliptical path of planet Pluto. Rising from the ashes is a metaphor for regeneration, which is the partcular power associated with this sign and it’s transformative planet. The eight house rules sex, death, sleep, all mechanisms of rejection; yes astrology includes death in this, creation/destruction being part of the same ceaseless cycle of rebirth. The symbol 8 is the lemniscate, the symbol of infinity.

Pluto and Persphone are chtonian deities, inhabiting the underworld; as archetypes for those born under the sign, it speaks to Scorpio people’s severe penchant for privacy, default suspicious demeanor, their relatively goth perspective that sees them recoil from scenesters, showoffs, socialites or the like who seek outside approval, something Scorpio people rarely do, and sometimes to a fault. Pluto is also god or riches (why rule by the rich is called Plutocracy). Pluto’s jeweled palace is heavily guarded. IN medieval myth, this theme carries through: Precious gems are guarded most fiercely by the dragon, just as our own demons of fear, shame and repression might surround those of our own wisdom and desire and which must ultimately be slayed. Scorpio people are the most in touch with their secrets, even as they keep them guarded, and they can seem wrapped up in themselves for the very reason that they are dealing with their interior world, first and foremost. Externals are all secondary. They are also more aware of what their personal demons might be—whether or not they succeed at eridcating them, they certainly don’t avoid them; that said, they are loath to share their private struggles with others. Sometimes they revel in their hidden truths, leading secret lives invisible to would-be prying eyes. The god Pluto wore the original cloak of invisibility, and, metaphorically speaking, Scorpio people tend to rock that article of concealment.

Of course Earth Day is Taurus. Somehow that makes me happy. What happened on this day was that we had ad hoc meeting moments most of the day. We sometimes schedule and postpone actual meetings about specific business concerns or, say a budget meeting, but somehow have these bouts of brainstorming where neither of can turn it off, which is always fueled by a busy schedule, as if you’re just sneaking in thoughts in something of a panic. While I”m thinking of it. Oh I just wanted to say this aloud. It occurs to me. And all that jazz. Been watching FosseVerdon and it really is a treat. Michelle Williams is everything and I never use that turn of phrase because I think it is stupid. We had a shared meeting with our new agent and S. spoke to Alice earlier. I think we should head to the UK as early as possible. I looked into flights to Sicily and there is nothing direct. So I think we might choose to go through the UK. Anyway we can save money and piggy back where the piggy backing’s good, we will.

The Sagittarius Experience

The third quadrant of which Sagittarius is the third sign is all focused on the mental plane, Libra being highly conscious and Scorpio deeply subconcious, then comes Sagittarius which is expansive enough to include the two. All mutable signs (again, the third in any quadrant), somehow combine the energies of the preceding two signs. Here Sagittarius blends the brilliantly concious with the cavernous subconcious into a superconscious or supraconcsious (I really do need to look those two words up). Only William Blake, a Sagittarius, would write a Marriage of Heaven and Hellor Sagittarius Samuel Clemens rename himself Mark Twain, a play on the words, the mark (or point) between. Sagittarius is mutable fire which translates to wildfire, particuarly the kind one finds in the sky, that is to say, lightning. Named for the wild-eyed lightning wielding king of the gods, Jupiter is not only the chief planet size wise in our astrology, all other planets fitting super comfortably in it, it also signifies the energies of growth, plenty, generosity, optimism and expansion in all forms, but especially that of the mind as it relates to the spirit. Fire symbolizes spirit so all the fire signs focus on the metaphysical level. It’s the most shamanistic of signs. It’s the stream of consciousness. It’s psychedelic and bent on breaking beyond boundaries of perception. It is about connecting the mind with the spiritual plane and is thus associated with visions and the pineal gland, the seat of the third eye.

Knowledge, philsophies, belief-systems all belong to the Sagittarian estate. “Knowledge is Power,” said Auntie Mame, a modern emanation of the female archetype, the sister-wife of Jupiter, Juno (Greek: Hera) who was goddess of women, but of power and knowlege too (as e’er this particular twain shall meet?) as it was her divine gift to bestow omnipotence or omniscience (or both) upon Paris who didn’t choose her best-in-show in his eponymous Judgement. Supreme power is what makes Jupiter/Zeus and Juno/Hero the couple to beat on Mount Olympus. And like Jupiter who can shoot lightning fire from his finger tips, Juno, too, possesses the ability to radiate outward from her entire being in such brilliance that it blinds and sometimes completely combusts those who behold her thus beaming. And speaking of knowledge: Historically, Sagittarius women in the greatest number comprised the list of most successful, world-renowned women writers to achieve global recognition. Austen, Dickinson, Cather, Wharton, Sand, Alcott, Emily Bronte the list goes on and on, proving how the proliferation of knowledge, to be an author who catches like wild fire at a time before the telegraph, and not that long after the printing press, is tantamount to greatest power and influence over the minds of many. And how else could a woman become a global sensation but to radiate outward in the expression of her creative intellect. The sign shares an “opposite” axis with Gemini, the buzzy mutable air sign of information which feeds into said Sagittarian knowledge. It also takes the dual energy of Gemini and combines it into somethint tertiary—again, that mark ‘twain.

One such person Hera burnt was Semele, the pregnant mortal mother of Dionysus. But she didn’t have to do it herself this time; instead she tricked her into asking Zeus to revel himself in full glory, which had the same combustive result; and Zeus had rescue the unborn Dionysus, sewing him into his own thigh (the body part ruled by Sagittarius) to finish his gestation. The thigh is the body part ruled by Sagittarius and the myth speaks to the struggle for power between the sexes, too. Jupiter gives birth to his own son, now, usurping the most feminine power to bring forth life. And Juno detests Dionysus more than any other god. Her dislike for him symbolizes the uneasy power strugle between the traditional ancient force she embodies and the would be usurpation of this power by the patriarchy whidh is personified by this “new” male god, inheritor of Jupiter, or his own youthful (re-)incarnation.. Dionysus is a most Sagittarian archetype in his own right, being the god of extremism in a number of forms. He is the ecstatic god of the orgy and, of course, wine, the classic drug of choice for expanding ancient minds, debatably associated with disorder.

We do see his character in famous outré male figures like Nero, Blake, Jim Morrison, Jimi Hendrix, Ludwig van Beethoven and of course Twain who came and went with Haley’s comet. There is something of the wild man in every Sagittarius, a nod to being the sign of the Centaur, thus half beast; while Dionysus represents nature asmale, he is god of ritual madness and religious ecstacy, a liberator and rule breaker and the only Olympian god to have a mortal parent. He isn’t pre-civilization wild, but rather embodies liberation from the restraints of existing society, the return to a natural state. Thus his rites entailed the drinking of his wine and frenzied dancing, opening up the consciousness to altered arguably higher states while recapturing the wild animal state of being as well and a return to primordial nature. Though it mightn’t have appeased Hera, Dionysian cults and rites were mainly associated with, and driven by women, along with slaves, outlaws, foreigners and the otherwise marginalized. The rites included dancing to rhythmic beats, flinging ones head back, so to break on through to the other side. Sagittarius is the energy of lightning flashess of genius, where it borders on madness, blowing ones own mind. We still see this same triggering of ecstaticism in evangelical churches, in voodoo practice, and in native american rituals. Sagittarius is the sign of the jazz, rock ‘n roll and the Beats (itself a combined duality of being beaten down and also beatific, raised high, all at the same time).

Right there was this guy in my dream last night who was kind of priestly looking. I think he was from Chatham or some place like Cornwall or some dream composite of the two. And I felt this mixed vibe from him, like he was crushing on me but also this disciplinarian figure that had some kind of power over me. Whatever. I never want to have to fully interpret any dream. I love robin’s egg blue. I’m on call this week for clients. I’m looking forward to waving some wands over people this year. It is time for some graduate-level self-actualization. Meanwhile little by little. I have many thoughts swirling today after the talk with our agent and what work needs to happen to get to where we want to go. I also have to do a little reconnaissance on the foreign rights side of our history and see where we are with everything. I think that’s enough to ask of myself in the coming days. Sneaking in little moments is a very good idea when it comes to any activity on the signs. So today I’m delving the world of Capricorn.

I

The Capricorn Experience

Capricorn is a correction itself to the excesses of the previous sign of Sagittarius. It is the cardinal earth sign, one symbolic interpretation being a mountain, something conical offering containment with alone or in a range. The horn too, akin to a mountain (the Matta Horn, or mother mountain), as befits this sign of the goat. Capri-corn literally means goat horn, the cornucopeia, or horn of plenty and the container of said bounty. Coming off the sign of Sagitarius which is expansion, growth, more, more more. Capricorn says enough is enough (Donna Summer is born under the sign). Capricorn is the energy of containment and restriction and thus of preservation. Mountains symbolize permanence if not the eternal itself. This fits the sign’s rule over the astrological tenth house which rules traditions. The planetary ruler is Saturn, named for the deposed god of the good ol’ golden age, (Greek: Cronus), who carried a scythe or sycle, with the planet symbol itself, even, recalls; he’s the prototypical old father Time, his Greek name linked to the chronological. His wife Rhea (Cybele or Ops, mother of the gods) is the mountain goddess in her mountain fortress, her diadem a turret; and she took god form, as Amaltheia, the mythic goat whose horns contained ambrosia, which she fed to her infant child Zeus, whom she hid away, so he might escape the fate of his elder five siblings who were swallowed at birth by Saturn who had a prophecy of usurpation by his offspring eternally hanging over his head.

Rhea means ease and Cronus is a deposed god, now, over the hill. Capricorn energy is retiring, retreating, restoring, reserved. It is the power of restraint, one such superpower Capricorn people possess. Capricorn is quality over quantity, a mountain of personal reserve. Talk about staunch character. The golden age which the Titans Cronos and Rhea ruled was thus called because it was a paradise devoid of any vice or lack where gods and men lived together, the latter for a monumentally long time. Arcadia, the hilly home of the goat god pan, remained a sort of bucolic remnant, an echoing of the golden age. There was no ambition as the world was endlessly bountiful and provided. At their best Capricorn people embrace a similar mindset, refusing to struggle, though nobody works harder. Their emotional landscape is steep and rocky and not without some major landslides, but this inspires their development of sure-footedness and stamina. Endurance is the Capricorn way, which is the true metaphorical take-away of the sign’s grand-parental energy. We save up for retirement, just as we keep our reservoirs pure, whether real or symbolic of own resources, or those of our cultural tradition.

The Capricorn motto is I usewhich is to day I don’t waste, neither time nor energy, or fritter away that which is worth preserving on that which doesn’t take, but might only get, one higher. The goat is built for the ascent but here’s the rub: Capricorn is the Sea Goat, and it has this fishy bit, which carries paradoxical meaning. Water sybmolizes intuition something Capricorns have in abundance, it also signifies emotion which we hope will fuel the Capricorn, not drag them down. The Sea Goat is also the perfect being to inhabit a metaphorical moutain-lake environment, the reservoir formed by restrictive power. Shan-gri-la, like golden-age Arcadia, where nobody ages. Just as the cardinal-water sign of Cancer, the axis-sign opposite Capricorn, is the source, Capricorn is the resource; and just as Cancer is associated with the archetype of Cinderella, so is Capricorn personified as the fairy god mother, a female personification of one’s higher power. Capricorns, whose birthright energy is faith, tend more than others to be one and the same with their higher power. And on the male side, we associate going to the mountain with, among other archetypes, old Moses, who let’s himself go grey via the experience, just as baby Moses, going from mother to mother along the (cardinal-water) river, is associated with Cancer, ruled by the Moon, the mother principle in astrology. Just as the fairy godmother comes with strict instructions (the sign of Capricorn at the very top of the Zodiacal wheel, at twelve o’clock, the stroke of midnight) so too does Moses receive and thus deliver a list of rules and regulations, restrictions—shalt nots!—to lay on us, ten to be exact, the number associated with Capricorn. God also told Moses to build his tabernacle out of goat hair, one might guess, because of it’s enduring, eternal qualities.

We tackled the budget today which was great. What a fruitful meeting numbers might provide. It’s so unvague to balance and divvy and project, when, even in numbers later changes entail entering new digits and that’s it. The creative meetings are far more challenging though ulitmately more fun. We have a Skype with our friend Pete today to which I really look forward. The trick as ever is to get ahead of that thing we call the eight ball. I don’t need maybes I need yesses. I mustn’t tolerate certain people because they are part of the so-called community. If I rub people the wrong way that’s always code for me calling others out on their bullshit. Those who seem more tolerant are typically more fawning and looking for some kind of pay-off, making compromises so to get what they are gunning for. I’m not that person. I must go higher and lower. I think I mean that. I must go deeper not lower! That’s the difference. When I say deeper I mean into my own creative performance career. It is the thing that I am most uniquely engineered to do (but for reasons I haven’t given full focus) while I let go lightly of people, places and things. I plan this summer to know a great many of them, new folks that is. I also need to get some new people on my board of directors. Anyway let’s talk about some Aquarius bric-a-brac.

Following Capricorn, cardinal-earth, which correlates, among other things, with the old-guard and the edification of tradition, comes the eleventh sign of Aquarius breaking through all that with avant-garde aplomb. The energy is both revolutionary and evolutionary. The sign’s ruler Uranus is the awakener, sudden and sweeping. Named for the god of the universe it points that which is ahead of its time—the eleventh astrological house rules the future—and and all that is new to explore, and what uncharted territory, metaphysical or otherwise, one can boldly get into. That Aquarius people are known to be quirky or freaky is more than pop-astrology, it speaks to the mutant energy of the sign. Aquarius is the future in the present, the sudden and sweeping mutation, the oddity, by which, nevertheless, the future unfolds and, literally, all species evolve. Darwinism is thus encoded into the ancient Zodiac—those crazy Mesopotamians! The male and female Aquarian chapters in our book Sextrology are called The Visitor and The Vision, respectively. The former refers to the alien quality of the men of the sign, in particular, as if they are visitors from outer time-space; while the latter speaks to the revelatory energy of the sign, something which women of the sign, especially, embody.

Even the fact that Uranus is named for the Greek god of the Universe, while all the other planets bear the Roman verions of their mythic namesakes, suggest something of a departure from the norm that characterizes the sign of Aquarius. Uranus, meaning sky or heaven, has many a debatable and probably composite etymology. We derive the modern word urine from the name, and most root words have watery origins and associations, like “to moisten”—it is said that Aphrodite emerged from the sea fertilized by Uranus’ castrated bits (Saturn struck him down just as he was later struck down by his own usurping son, replacing him as chief god). Uranus is associated specifically with dew, which parallels Aquarius woman’s association with the goddess of the dawn. Ruled by this starry god the universe, and placed opposite Leo (ruled by the Sun) on the astrological wheel, Aquarius is associated with distant suns, a single star, if not the infinitely sparkled heavens filled. In the Tarot, the Star card depicts the astrological Water Bearer.

I have drafted most of next year’s Haute Astrology books. To be honest, I could put the entire enterprise into works within a fortnight come September. And that’s pretty much what it is I intend to do. Next on my plate this week is to tackle outstanding grant things. To get all foreign rights information to my agent for review. And then begin to reshuffle the new book proposal based on notes I have for doing just that. I have only one client this week, someone whom I feel I haven’t spoken to in so long, actually. Such that I’m really eager to reconnect. As I am to all the people. I will be putting things out. This is the time of year where I can start to be social and that feels really good. Just wearing t-shirts and jeans and a simple jacket. Yum. Everything I bring to NYC is going to be lightweight and roll. I bought the smaller size Away suitcase (in green) to match my bigger one; and now, because I’m determined to use it, I have to trick myself into wearing nothing but the same thing for days on end. Which, let’s face it, is what I end up doing in any case.

It’s fine to call myself an actor but it has been so many years since I’ve actually acted in a straight play and I’m a bit nervous about putting myself back out there. It will be fun to get together with the theater folk again, not just in NYC, but Boston too. And to see what might be affected by some determined action and attitude. I talk about feeling behind in my schedule but, truly, I don’t know anybody who is more hardworking and directive than I am. I hope that doesn’t sound boastful. But really I mean it. Truthfully, truthfully. We are on the brink of making a necessary city move but I’m not exactly sure where it needs to be exactly. Anyway I need to rethink some Pisces thoughts

Pisces is the final sign of the zodiac and, as its opposite facing Fish suggest, it is a sign of complete paradox. It is all and nothingness, the alpha omega, the womb tomb of existence. Pisces is the mutable-water sign, symbolized by mists, fog, foam, (French: écumefrom whence derives scum) and, thus, both potent life-giving primordial ooze and the miasma of dead and rotting matter. The twelfth astrological house has been called the dust bin of the Zodiac; but, we would add, with a focused imperative on recycling, as befits list last turn of the wheel that Pisces portrays. When Pisces George Harrison wrote and sang that life goes on within you and without you, he was expressing from an archetypally connected place. This misty mystical, mutable-water sign portrays non-material existence, something which we scientfically now know is the whole of all existence, so-called matter only truly being various densities of said energy. Ruled by planet Neptune, named for the god of the sea, portrays the cosmic energy of dissolution. In Pisces we are dissolving, seeing and venturing beyond the seven-hued veils of Salome, over Iris’ rainbow—both, among the archetypes of the previous sign of Aquarius—having now entered into a magical place, a lucid dream world, a blissed-out state of Nirvana, or some other such transcendent realm. Neptune and Pisces at once represent the estate of purest imgaination, and also delusion and hallucination. Lest we forget that magic and imagination share the same etymology as imagery, any sort of which is ruled by the twelfth astrological house, that of asylum or theasylum depending how you look at it.

In our book Sextrology, Pisces woman and man are called The Dreamand The Drifter, respectively, and, of all the individuals on the astrological block, they are best at giving in or over to life on life’s terms, dissolving into the here and now of their circumstance, if only sometimes treading water, seeking foremost to avoid struggle (all of which requires a great sacrificing of ego). At the same time, paradoxically, the are most able of people to sustain a belief in certain transcendence, whatever their particular brand of sublimity might be. No wonder the sign’s motto is I Believewhich is more than just a spriritual knowingness, it is a power, Pisces’s super power, that works it’s magic on reality, making it malleable. This is the true meaning of the mutable-water assignation, and of Neptune’s dissolving force: If all we perceive isn’t truly fixed, but fields of energy blending, one into another, than the so-called substance of being is determined by the energy we are, and that which we are putting out there via our belief. If we dissolve the impediments to them—circumstance and limiting thoughts—and we remove the notion of space and time (trusting in inevitability of the manifestion of our belief) that which we belief in, primarily our self, is already coming into being. We all have this power. For Pisces people it just happens to be frontloaded. They more readily give over to the plot of life as it is already happening, like a lucid dreamer must do if s/he would have the dream continue (any lucid dreamer will tell you that if you try to impose your will on the dream it will dissolve before your mind’s eye).

Pisces are the most accepting of what is and thus able to make the greatest changes toward what could be. Acceptance is the threshold to Love. Not the personal or romantic sort, but the truest, purest spiritual form of Love as the animating force in the Universe. The great primordial goddess of the sea, from which she emerged, is Aphrodite (Roman: Venus), later demoted to a lower-case love-and-beauty goddess when she enterered the patriarchal pantheon that struggled to place her. We also see her, in emanation, as the wife of Neptune, Amphitrite, his famed trident originally being her symbol as the triple goddess, as is the shamrock, the lily (Aphrodite’s sacred flower), the fleur de lis. Another name for Aphrodite is called Mari (the sea) and she is thus cognate to Mary, Stella Maris, the star of the sea. Both Aphrodite and Mary have sons, Eros and Jesus, who are embodiments with Love. Eros, which means love, like Jesus, is the eternal babe, yet he is also the oldest, most primordial of the creation gods, just as Jesus is one and the same with the father-creator. Aphrodite and Eros took fish form and we know all about the Jesus fish from certain people’s automobile decoration. All this to say that the philosophical concept of Pisces is thus: That if you were to remove all physical manifestation from the world (which isn’t physical but energetic or spiritual anyway) what is behind it all, the very backdrop of existence, is, essentially Love. And someone once supposedly said something like: blessed are those who believe without seeing.

Pisces rules feet which, metaphorically, speaks to Pisces people being parapetitic. Of all the signs, Pisces are the least moored to their origins, both in terms of their actual home and family rearing, but also in the assignations that go along with it. From birth, nearly, Pisces people move in a desired direction of character and bearing, most often fancying themself to be erudite, if not encyclopedic in their knowledge, with a certain lockjaw upper crustiness. They are indeed fancy. And we don’t use the word lightly. For Pisces people it is an actionable verb whereby they art-direct their own personality and, really, they’re very being. They always embody a departure from their roots and they will stay in motion (unless, paradoxically, they isolate and roam around an inner world of their own making instead). It is the belief that they can be anything they want to be and, to look at the feet, again: before we can walk on water we best believe that we can. Science ultimately proves many a belief. Like: all isenergy; and energy can neither be created nor destroyed. So the primordial soup, expressed by Pisces, is all that is and will ever be. Pisces people seem to personify this notion. They are not attached, as a rule, to people places and things; on the other side of the paradox, they are the most empathetic of beings. In Sextrology we joke that Pisces woman, in particular, rely on the kindness of strangers, being embodiment of the Blanche du Bois archetype (she wears della robbia blue which is the color of Mary’s robe); but Pisces people, regardless of gender, are at home with people, strangers, even as they travel the world. They tend to treat everyone equally, which might seem strange to their significant others or even their children. It’s as if they understand the impermanance of existence better than the rest of us.

To view the original Sabian Symbol themed 2015 Cosmic Blague corresponding to this day: Flashback! The degree point of the Sabian Symbol may at times be one degree higher than the one listed here. The Blague portrays the starting degree of for this day ( 0°,  for instance), as I typically post in the morning, while the Sabian number corresponds to the end point (1°) of that same 0°-1° period. There are 360  degrees spread over 365/6 days per year—so they nearly, but not exactly, correlate.

Typos happen. I don’t have a proofreader. And I like to just write, post and go! Copyright 2020 Wheel Atelier Inc. All Rights Reserved. Get your HAUTE ASTROLOGY 2020 Weekly Horoscope ebooks by Starsky + Cox.

Capricorn 25° (January 15)

Today I will do a major dump run and much in the way of cooking including egg drop soup. This evening we will chat with Monique and Mark. Flounder and fingerlings and brussel sprouts for diner.

The following blocks of text are exceprts from my first year of  Blagues, nos. 1446-1450. I am reading through all of my Blagues, five per day, and posting some samples here. Now, in my sixth year of writing this Blague, by the time I get to my seventh, I will have journeyed through all the daily Blagues of my first five years. If that’s confusing I apologize. Year seven, I’ll only have to read through year six, once a day.

I really can be quite a handful sometimes. I’m very reactive at certain moments and in certain circumstances, any internal logic to it being something that has eluded me. In truth it always comes down to feeling unloved or rejected. Add to which, being duped/extorted for money by some theater honey great pretender, are you getting my drift? You know the type. Charming. Princely. Never seems to do anything wrong in peoples eyes. (An accident just occured where I found myself writing about a person of a sign that I was originally planning to write about today and yet here, literally I am delving this character, and I feel I might be illumining the character of the sign, most universally, while just venting about this particular pill of a person in my estimation right now.) Anyway, I went over the top reading him the riot act. I seem to keep on doing that. Blowing things up. But I will justify it. Ooh. Libra. Justice. Justify. I get it. I do. I am the Law of Recompense. When people fuck with me and then I forgive them and then they block me out that bugs me. I get it. If you think through being a douche-bag who gets called out by a righteous Libra for said doucebagery,  who then also forgives you, you don’t want to see that person. I wouldn’t want to see me. Libra takes that Taurus mirror of vanity and shines on you—take a look, beatch.

And for the first time I truly don’t effing care. Why should I have to sugarcoat to save other people’s skin when those people could give a flying woo-woo about anything me. Since the world is going crazy, anyway, too, I’m thinking what the fuck. I want to take up all my righteous Libran space. I want to be a better diplomat (Libra domaint). This shit is going to be cut and pasted, for real. I dreamt of my aunt’s house in Lyndhurst, I went around to the back and looked in and it was sliding glass doors and empty I think and so I went around to the front and I think entered through the garage? or up the stairs? not sure. I think because my cousin Joseph and David Verm I pretty much had the composite “big brother” that I wanted, frankly. Now David has disappeared off the face of the earth (not for real I hope); he got sober and I think very Jesusy. Leading up to his going to whatever rehab scenario, he would be drunk on the phone hiding from his wife and kids. And I remember him post and positive about life. And then I don’t know what the fuck happened. I vaguely remember talking about Bob not giving Jim a certain promotion and how that caused tension between our family camps. David’s a Capricorn. Joseph is a Taurus. I am a Libra. That combination is a recurring theme in my life. That and Virgos. Every best male friend I ever had has been a Virgo, I’ve had like twenty some-od Virgo best friends.

I get out of my own way everyday. That is something I wanted to say. There is certain amount of Gertrude Stein I cannot live without, everyday. Coffee. Frivolous morning time, “I Love Lucy” on Amazon Prime. The Poetry. It’s a Moo Moo. All the Headlines. We are sinking deeper and deeper into the miasma and we have to hold hands and find our footing to pull ourselves out and it off. Under attack. Overshooting in the cause of freedom will never be enough. Life. That’s what I say. Do what you wanna do. Stop in the name of love. If you leave me now…baby I was born to…da-doo-ron-ron-ron, da-doo-ron-ron.

Back to the second beginning of maturity. It all makes sense. This is already enough. Why push it? There is nothing to be had from ushering along any directive. By the same token it does yield spare, most poignant, how would you call it? Things? We are that stupid. No. We are that stupid. I told you, I told you, I told you all those years ago. I told you in the back seat of the overly air-conditioned Cadillac in the summer of 1969, I told you, going over the Polansky Skyway something you would now never be able to do. And so callous

It actually just might be easier to continue to improvise than it would to come up with some major plan. But the weirdest thing is: I just don’t have all that much rattling around my brain. I am ever slightly challenged in starting my fundraising but also in casting the festival this year. But that always ends up coming together so I’m really not going to worry about that right now. The important thing to do is to move the needle or as we say the spoon. Anyway it does feel good to make some progress and get all the proverbial ducks in a row. I have started an inventory for the various subjects I am covering per sign. I don’t know if you know this but we actually have a proposal in works for a great new book which I am actually quite excited about. So here some thoughts on the sign of Cancer..

If the first (cardinal-fire) sign of Aries is big-bang creation and (fixed-earth) Taurus is the garden, Eden, and the (mutable-air) sign of Gemini is a snapshot of  munching on that apple of sudden consciousness, the Fall, then Cancer (cardinal-water) is the Flood to wash it all—cares and sins— away, to re-create and recover. Flood myths promise passage, deliverance, a simple, cool change, and promise itself. Moon-ruled Cancer is the energy of hope without which there can be no possibility. Someone wise said that. Water symbolizes emotion and intuition. The process of recovery is indeed an emotional one—the Cancer motto is I Feel—one that involves getting to the source of our human emotional being, which is where we tap into our higher power (represented by Cancer’s so-called opposite sign of Capricorn, not actually opposite at all but a higher septave, the relationship between the two providing mountains of metaphorical and metaphysical wisdom to be mined. Cancer is the source, the most vivid interpretation of cardinal- (originating) water; while Capricorn is re-source the mountain lake or reservoir. Cancer people are gushing and Capricorns reserved. Cancer is Hope and Capricorn is Faith.

And they say hope floats; and we venture to guess that whoever they are, they unknowingly tapped into a certain zodiacal understanding; Back to recovery: something we are all in all the time: Cancer people personifying this concept—Noah was a drunk, so he understands the notion of the Fall on a personal level. His personality is hinged on the transition from Gemini to Cancer. If the Fall is about experiencing life as a sudden split—Geminis are the most, and mostly benignly, split-personalities—then the Flood is about immediately moving toward the repair of said split. The whole thing about putting animals together, two by two, onto an airk is about re-pairing. And what is an ark if not a promise, one which we mainly hope we can keep to ourselves. The Cancer symbol can be interpreted as a crab, but also as two peas or seeds in a single pod, in either case floating along, not determining the direction, going with the proverbial flow. All of this, too, being a metaphor, to use a recovery phrase, for living life on life’s terms.

Life, to the Cancerian ideal, is in toto a process of recovery and rehabilitation, repairing any faulty infrastructure in our upbringing, especially, but also any family history pre-birth.  We all decide what we want to retain, and indeed recover, about ourselves, and that which we wish to be washed away, typically elements of self that block or undermine that which we are determined to take on our journey. The fourth astrological house of Cancer is a mysterious one because it rules both the home you come from and  the one you create for yourself; it is, in this way, a verb, a sign of action and movement as befits its cardinal status. Cancer people, as a snapshot of the sign’s energy, are on a journey from birth to mete out that which they want to leave behind from that which they want to characterize their future promise, their early conditioning from their own self-providence. On a less personal level the Cancerian experience is what we collectively pass on—customs, mores, folkways—which is no way divorced from the notions of putting things to rights, securing cultural identity and stability— and also real and metaphoric inheritances from family traits to heirlooms and property, actual real estate. In the Greek flood myth, where the pairing of Deucalion and his wife Pyrra, alone, withstand the entire wiping out of humanity, it is the goddess Themis who appears to them, having made it to the other shore, at the point of recovery, to instruct them on what to do next.

The fact that the authority figure here is female is fitting. Cancer is ruled by the Moon, the symbol of which is a crescent, a nod to the waxing and waning, which controls the ebb and flow of tides and all earthly liquids. The crescent also speaks to passage and a state of becoming, and therefore of potential and, again, the magic word, here, promise. Cancer via its ruler Moon are all about natural laws and rhythms, which emerge as feminine in cosmic thought. Unlike Venus, the other feminine planet in astrology, which stands for the power of attraction and ironic passivity, the Moon actively receptive, as oxymoronic as that sounds (all signs having their own brand of paradox. As a cardinal sign, Cancer puts out, but what it puts out are feelers which are, by nature receptive. And this is what Cancerian people of all genders do to varying degrees and in different phases of their psycho-spiritual development. The world of emotion and intuition, both forms of feelers one can put out, are the domain of mother Moon.

Themis, herself, is a mysterious Titan goddess whose name literally means “to put in place.” She is the incarnation of the will of the gods, the divine law and order of things, and what must be put in place, in our human experience, to adhere to this mandate. All flood myths are hinged on humanity displeasing (the) god(s), after all; so it follows that those who (have been chosen to) survive are ones who will live in compact with this divine will. Themis knows the future—she created the Oracle at Delphi and was its first oracular diety. After the duplicity of Gemini, Themis separates fiction from fact, demanding open honesty, something even the ancient gods thought made the best policy. Themis is a Titanesss, belonging to a pantheon older than the Olympian gods, with Zeus/Jupiter as their king. Zeus’s Titan father Cronos/Saturn ruled the golden age when there was no vice of any kind and perfect bounty and humans remained youthful, living hundreds of years. Zeus was her only consort—and remember it was he who ordered the flood—and among their children are the Horae, meaning: the right moment, embodying the correctness of order unfolding in time. And Cancerian people do seem to ultimately flow with the go more than the rest of us, though they may perhaps at first, in early life, more than most of us to let go and float on the great, ever-unfolding. Cancerian typically experience a sense of being held hostage by their childhoods emerging with a sort of Stockholm syndrome brand of affection for their parents whos lifestyle tends to run counter to the Cancerian’s natural order of things.

Speaking of being rhythmically attued: The Moon of course rules Cancer and it represents the mother principle in astrology and myraid other esoteric disciplines. Mother is the source of life, deliverance and nurture; Cancer’s cosmic energy of cardinal-water (cardinal is initiatory and forward moving) echoing that gurgling fountain, spring, source of the rivers running to the sea. Likewise the Moon rules the tides, natural, ordered, ebb and flow, oe’r the estuaries of our existence, the same natural unfolding and right order that Themis and her progeny prescribe. And Cancer people are the most capable of sinking into those natural or cosmic rhythms, as they are one with the same, synching with the process of life and the expectation of its right unfolding. Where the mental sign of Gemini might employ the power of positive thinking or other such tricks as befits its clever and mischievous Mercury rule—manipulate, bargain, wheel and deal, if not pull a few fast ones—to ensure certain successes, Cancer people picture that farther shore, the culmination of goals and fulfillment, meanwhile digging in, in Crablike fashion, keeping their head down, letting time and tide take them to the next correct moment along their journey, content to let it be a cumulative one.

Ironically, as much as the Cancer digs downinto his tasks at hand, in the here and now, the rate at which a Cancerian’s outer circumstance changes, in the main for the better, tends to outstrip other sign’s trajectories. To boot, the Cancerian might do the exact same job for eons, their usual routine altering little for decades, success finding them in their own, often very private process of making their dreams come true, seemingly on their own terms. One might argue, the Cancerian themself, that it’s much the opposite—that they live life on life’s terms, taking what it gives them, day to day, making hay while the Sun shines, and lemonade out of any lemons. They rarely chase success, nor do they overthink or strategize—they plot a simple course and patiently tack their way, becoming a font and fairly verbal gusher, of wisdom, knowledge, creativity.

Headed into Boston this morning and felt relatively calm. Dropped S in Cambridge and checked into hotel. Spoke to J and worked out some stuff. We have our final show tonight of the series’ season and we will do our usual and have a litte something first at Waypoint and then head over just in time. It totally forgot to cancel a hotel reservation, but thankfully there was no repercussion for doing so. I’m going to put something together for the festival this year in such a way where I can do it in my sleep. I have got to start making things easier. Putting more Leo thoughts to “paper” today:

The cardinal-water sign of Cancer, with its associative flood myths (symbolic of recovery), is followed by the fixed-fire sign of Leo, which is about the re-establishment, or restoration, and self-creation, metaphorically and metaphysically speaking. The fire element symbolizes spirit and the fixed quality speaks to a concentrated, stationary, magnetic quality. Fittingly, the ruler of Leo is the Sun which is the fiery center of our planetary system whose creative energy is life giving. The Sun symbol, a dot within a sphere, speaks to a sense of wholeness and being centered. One body part ruled by Leo is the heart, which is the center of our being, and it’s etymologically linked hearth is that which offers warmth and protection, gathering others to it. The heart does likewise, metpahorically speaking. The sign of Leo is a cosmic snapshot of this energy and Leo people themselves are personifications of it. Where Cancerian emotion (that sign’s motto is I feel) moves us toward change, promise and deliverance, the sign of Leo is the promise delivered, fulfilled—Leo’s motto is I will. The inspiring emotion of cardinal-water now gives way to fixed-fire, which is strong and steady burning passion, the eternal flame that burns within all of us. If Cancer is feeling Leo is passion, which is a sustained fire, requiring tending. Cancer is the want for doing while Leo is the will to do so. Leo is the creation, the building upon, the edification of our self-perceived purpose fueled by our will. Our willingness to bring about its full 360° realization. Another body part ruled by Leo is the spine, thus our backbone, our might of will. Not surprising, the Strength card in the Tarot features the lion, king of beasts.

Leo people are pillars of self will, which is always an inner battle that builds a personally moral strength. Leo people are the least likely to allow others or any obstacles to stand in the way of their creative or passion projects. And so they can seem, generally, guarded, so focused on the edification of their inner castles, that they seem an impenetrable fortress, exhibiting retiscence. We think of DeNiro or Madonna or, even, back in the day, Lucille Ball on Dick Cavett. One might suspect more warmth and simple affability from the Leo character until we remember we are dealing with some superior, near monarchical, sometimes tyrranical comsic energy. Leo does comprise our ability to rule the lesser, more beastly attributes of our nature which begs the quesiton: Are Leo people guarded against others or their own self-identified weaknesses, thus themselves. It symbolizes the divine right of kings (and some pretty fierce queens) that burns within all of us. To further delve the meaning of the rulership over the spine: Leo is about standing to your fullest height, embodying the energy of pride, a word that also comprises a group of lions. Leo is where our nobility lies, and as embodiments of that fact, Leo people never let their own majestic compartment slip. We liken cardinal-fire Aries to big-bang creation; and fixed-earth Taurus to the garden, Edenic bliss; Gemini, mutable-air, is the heady consciousness that charcterizes, the fall; and we said Cancer is the flood and also Exodus, the parting of the waters. Leo, it follows, is the age of miracles, the biblical book of Kings like young and gleaming David (who slay the giant, i.e. his own beastlly or monstrouus nature) and Queens, too, like Bathsheba, associated with feline energy, Sheba, like Cleo, being a de rigeurname for your pet kitty. Cleopatra, another Leo archetype, incidentally, means: Glory of the Father. And, whereas the Moon (Cancer) “the source” is the Mother Principle, in contrast the Sun (Leo) is the Father Principle, “the force”, representing opposite views of the universe, existence, as feminine or masculine, repsectively, goddess or god directed. Mother Moon is nurture and Leo son is authority.

Authority is a primary watchword of the sign, which goes beyond its face-value meaning of simply being in charge. It is more precisely about authorship—Arthur being a medieval echoing of the young king David, both being divinely appointed—which links to Leo’s astrological fifth house of creation, or more precisely “co-creation with god.” Arthur’s round table is the Sun symbol once again, often called the table of Hestia, who tended the fire in the center of the palace hall of Olympus, where the other twelve gods were in a circle enthroned, like the twelve signs of the Zodiac the Sun passes through in a calendar year. In Greek mythology, Helios is the Sun god-king; and as exalted as that might sound it’s a heavy responsibility, which comes with great Leo power. The moral navigation of being a ruler, like David or Arthur, weighed heavily on them. And like his sister Moon, Selene, does every night, Helios must drive his fiery horse-drawn chariot every night, maintaining a steady course, bridled with heavy responsibility. So is the life of a truly good monarch, the paradox being that they are at once the pinacle ruler but in complete devoted service to their subjects. This helps us understand the default frame of mind of Leo people in the main. They are divinely endowed with a healthy ego and yet they rely upon others loyalty and very audience to maintain it. Where the first fixed sign, Taurus, needs to garner an audience, Leo rather grants them.

Leo people are best at giving themselves license, authority, here, adding up to a simple green light. Leo’s have pride in themselves because their main objective is to make themselves proud. If that Cancerian flood myth spells promise (ark, in both senses of the word) then Leo is the keeping of it, the fulfillment of the compact, a word one associates with the rules, say, of a new settlement, which is the perfect metaphor for the Leo experience. The fifth astrological house is that of legacy, and Leo people more readily set upon building their “keep” as it is a signature pledge they make to themselves. Whereve they fix their fire, their passion, they will then build their world around it, seeing that it will provide, too for others on whom they in turn rely to help build their castles, lest they rest on sand.

Had a chill morning and met S. for a pho lunch. Then we had a meeting with some branding folks we know to see if we are a professional match on our projects. Then we took a long walk down Commonwealth Avenue, through the Commons, over to Charles Street and up Beacon Hill. We did a little jewelry shopping and then headed up the hill on Chestnut and worked our way over. A old man approached us—he didn’t give his name—but he did name drop his wife, Pamela, who cautions him about stopping to talk to people and delaying whatever errand he is on for them. He was dress all in black—shoes, slacks and a very fine knit turtleneck sweater that looked quite expensive but, I imagine, dates back to the 1970s if that’s possible. He spoke about how they bought a house on the backside of Beacon Hill in the 1960s for nothing. Can you imagine? This occured after they returned from living in Calcutta for years. Funny because we were thinking of having Indian food that night. It was something of a sign. The day has been all signs actually. I had an “episode” earlier today that involved a sneeze and my shoulder getting stuck up around my ear, and I’ve been rather sore all day. We strolled some more—checking out some mewses that (I want to call him Charles or Edward) told us to peruse; and then ended up walking back through the Commons where we saw a white squirrel that wasn’t albino. We had a refreshment at Bar du Midi and then strolled back to the hotel and had our supper at Uni. It was a fun day all in all with lots of food for thought (and just food in general).

Whereas Leo is fueled by pride, which is an imporant positive energy until it isn’t, Virgo’s superpower is humility which, by logic of the upward spiral that is the dynamic (not static flat circle) upward spiral of the Zodiac, is stronger than pride. We’ve said it before but the planetary ruler of Virgo is somewhat in dispute; traditionally it falls under Mercury’s rule, which also governs the sign of Gemini; while others believe it is ruled by Chiron, once a planet which was pummeled by asteroids and “disabled”; and others still believe there is a planet Vulcan out there…or rather inthere, orbiting between Mercury and the Sun, and therefore near impossible to detect. Wigned Mercury, the trickster, messenger god, is a perfect match for the mutable-air sign of Gemini; and it’s fitting for the mutable-earth sign of Virgo too, in a sense: Mercury embodies the two forms of magic—the tricky sleight of hand brand that matches Gemini’s mercurial and prankish nature, but also the more substantial form of alchemy which is the primary watchword of the sign of Virgo.

Alchemy is akin to medicine, in both cases ridding the substance/body of baser elements; and Mercury’s staff, the Caduceus, is, to this day, the symbol for the medical profession. Mercury was called Hermes by the Greeks and we speak of hermits (alchemists working in secrecy) and all things hermetic, meaning: relating to an ancient occult tradition that encompasses alchemy, astrology (hello!) and theosophy. Chiron, too, the wisest of the centaurs who alone among them rose above his beastly nature was taught by Apollo the art of medicine and herbs and is credited with the discovery of botany and pharmacy…….

He was in fact unrelated to all other centaurs, sometimes depicted with human front legs. He is mainly an abomination, at least according to his mother who, at birth rejected him and left him to die. He is akin to Ganesh, the original elephant-man god whose festival coincides with Vulcanalia, which is the first day of Virgo, August 23. Vulcan is the Roman name for Greek Hephaestus who wasn’t born lame but made so by his dismissive father Zeus who, enraged at his son siding with his mother, Hera, in an argument—flung him around the world which he circled endless times before landing and henceforth living without the use of his legs.

What the mythical Mercury, Chiron and Vulcan share is that they are all, like Ganesh,  healers. Hephaestus-Vulcan is a potter god, a smithy, an alchemist as befits Virgo’s malleable mutable-earth sign. Despite infirmiry he doesn’t wallow but channels his disability into invention, spending all waking time at his forge, in his workshop, making all sorts of nifty tools, weapons and devices for the betterment of men and gods alike. Virgo’s sign mottos are I work and I serve. Like Prometheus who elevated mankind by gifting them with sacred fire stolen from Olympus—this mirrors the move from the fixed-fire sign of the Leo god-kings (and some fierce queens) to Virgo with its everyman assignation, mutable-earth speaking to the evolutionary effect the stolen fire is meant to have on man. As part of the punishment Zeus doled out for this theft, he had Hephaestus make, out of clay, Pandora who with her infamous box brought all vice, first disguised by virtue, into the world.

Hephaestus is an ironic god of the human condition. He understands humanity and knows loss and humility, rare in a god. He knows that one’s reactions to loss can go either way, from victimization to victory, from self-pity or -destruction, from dysfunction to contribution,  to making lemonade from lemons. His crippling becomes the nature of his godhead, his superpowers deriving from being parapalegic if only a metaphor for being cut at the knees. This is true alchemy, the undergoing of personal change on the most human of levels. What is alchemy but getting the lead out? And, both metaphorically and metaphysically, Virgo is about undergoing such internal alteration, not sitting there like a lump of clay but making yourself useful, purifying oneself, removing our baser elements, obstacles, in the crucible of one’s own conscience. Hephaestus is more acurately the god of the human conscience and he is, like Ganesh, a remover of obstacles. The sign of Virgo rules the digestion which is also a metaphor for said conscience—munching on experience it metes out the nutrients in our life from the detritus. In the sculpting of Pandora, Hepaestus utilizes the best features of each of the goddesses, making her a composite of these. Pandora means “all given.” We see the archetypal roots here of the Virgo male character which can lean toward the Svengali, being (a sometime male-chauvinist) Pygmalion, the Henry Higgins molding his Eliza Doolittle; and we see, too, the roots of the Virgo woman being something of a borrower herself—of all the women in the Zodiac she is most likely to cherry pick elements of style and even personality from other women she admires. It came come as a shock to her friends to see her morphing into them before their eyes. Slowly though she will morph out of being a collection of traits into a unique composition of influences, which is true of all of us to some extent. She will also let herself be Svengali’d (if we can make that a verb) doing little to stop it. Get it?

The Virgo virgin, however, is not that Pandora but rather the goddess Kore (who will become Persephone once Hades-Pluto abducts and drags her into his underworld), the “daughter” and thus the maiden-form of Demeter, the goddess of the harvest, coinciding to Virgo’s late-August-early-September time frame which ends the first half of the astrological year, at the Autumnual Equinox that began at Vernal Equinox. Demeter is also called Pandora, but here it means “all giving.” She giveth and she taketh away. That is the power of the Virgo woman, in particular, who makes herself useful in the lives of others but, if unappreciated, she will remove herself, leaving those who’ve come to rely on her lacking. Virgo’s mutable-earth status speaks to substantial change which doesn’t happen in a flash. Virgo reminds us that we are all works in progress and their brand of spirituality is devotional at its core.

We were supposed to shop together today but I just couldn’t bring myself to do it so S. went off on her own and I met her for lunch at our local seafood lunch spot. We had a client in the afternoon and thought we mightn’t want to do the restaurant thing again so we bought some picnic items at Eataly, prepared foods, which turned out to be terrible. So-called roasted sweet potatoes that were absolutely raw. We watched High School Quix Show (my favorite local Massachusetts program) and Beat the Press with Emily Rooney and Antiques Roadshow and an American Masters on Garry Winogrand. I was so tired I fell soon after it began only to awake with a start around two o’clock. So I watched, on mute, a program on flightless birds (which I always associate with the sign of Virgo). It was hosted by David Attenborough. They showed footage of him when he was in his twenties studying them and o.m.g. what a total babe he was—it’s sad to gay crush on an old man when he was a twink but wow he was so hot. I got to thinking: Someone should make a fictionalized bio-program about the Attenboroughs. It would be fascinating. And I’m not doing it. Anyway my mind goes to Libra thoughts today.

The sign of Libra is distinguished by being the only sign in the Zodiac that has an inanimate symbol—all other signs are represented as humans or animals or a combination of both. The word Zodiac means “circle of animals” sharing etymology with the word zoo. There are some straight-forward inferences in regard to Libra’s inanimate symbol Scales and some twisty turny ones as well. For starters, Libra people can be conceptual and they are motivated and edified by their principles. Planet Venus, which rules Taurus on the Earth plane, here rules Libra, the cardinal-air sign. Air symbolizes the invisible world of ideas and also social experience, as e’er the twain shall meet. Names for the goddess of love and beauty, Greek Aphrodite, the planet endows natives of this sign with and aesthetically driven mind and a love a beautiful, starry notions. Cardinal (initiatory, directive) -air translates to light, itself a word that has many conceptual meanings. In Greek mythology, Apollo is the god of light and a slew of abstractions including law, reason, order, harmony, balance, music, poetry, prophesy, all of which are very Libran in nature. All things being equal, the Scales speak to order and justice, of course; they also refer to music, there being seven notes to the scales. Libra is sign number seven—light itself is made up of seven colors—and the day sacred to Apollo  is October 7, which falls into the sign of Libra. In the previous sign of Virgo we emphasized function and the increase of purity, as symbolized by the virgin; now we are focused more fully on design, especially a design for living…and doing so in harmony.  The symbol of the Scales also recalls a horizon line with sun setting or rising, hours when the evening star Venus is visible, although setting is more fitting. Libra begins at the Autumnal Equinox, when the there is equal day and night; but the equinox also signals a midway point where the nights will be getting longer, the sunset, if you will, of the year.

The literal take on evening is not lost on us here, given Libra’s democratic energy. The sign’s two mottos are I Balance (myself with others) and We Are, both pointing to certain equality, just one of related beautiful principles associated with the en-light-en-ing sign of Libra. People born under the sign have delicate sensibilities and they eschew any so-called ugliness in their lives, which can make them activists for change on the one hand or avoidists who remain in ivory towers on the other. We have cited the character Amelie from the French film of the same name as being a modern Libran archetype as she works as an agent of karma, in a sense, the effect of the cause, retibution, as justice would dictate. Libra is all about leveling the playing field and elevating the social discourse and hopefully the conditions in which we all live. The beautiful notion of democracy derives from the energy of the sign, Apollonian order bringing to mind gleaming column-lined temples or the neo-classic halls of justice which emblemize Western civilization. Apollo is no nature god; like Athena, he is an urban deity, but an even more precious one than she. Many a Apollo myth, like that of he and Daphne or Cassandra, end in him being rejected by the objects of his affection. It would seem that his lofty expectations are too much for the earthy nymphs and even the more rarefied goddesses who still like to get down and dirty, something Apollo doesn’t seem capable of doing. Dickens’ Great Expectations is a retelling of the Apollo myth; Pip forever pining for Estelle to return his affections. Rejection and disappointment are major themes in the life lessons of the Libra man, in particular; while all Libra’s grapple with frustration of experience not being up to snuff or second-rate. For the Libra, who often needs a perfectly clean, ordered environment to work in or who will change hotel rooms or restaurant tables until the vibe or feng shui is just right, there is always the sense that things could be that much better.

For the Libra, who often needs a perfectly clean, ordered environment to work in or who will change hotel rooms or restaurant tables until the vibe or feng shui is just right, there is always the sense that things could be that much more soignée, conceptually, beautifully balanced. For these children of lyric Apollo—the very invention of the word stems from the god’s playing of the lyre—all must be poetry as much as it can be. Deterining whether it is or isn’t is a conceptual exercise, art being a battle of opinions waged against would-be abstract absolutes. Art hangs us in the balance, puts us on the Libra scales. And like works of art themselves, Libra people may divide public opinion. For all their understated elegance, Libras, being defacto personifications of principle, come on strong. On the other hand they can suffer from insecurity and tend to take situations, circumstance experience more personally than others. They can be intense in close relationship in that they were born to partner and naturally bond very deeply, synergy being the subconscious goal, to the point that the relationships itself will take on its own, third-party entity. And we’re back to the myth of Daphne and the other of Apollo’s love objects, male and female, who rebuked him whereupon he turned them into trees. He cursed his priestess Cassandra by giving her a certain gift prophecy, an aspect of his divine domain, which, paradoxically, nobody would heed or believe.

In the history of the pantheon, Apollo is not an early arrival. Scholars note that much of his artsy estate originally belonged to Aphrodite/Venus, namesake of the sign’s planet ruler. The second half of the Zodiac begins rather ironically. The so-called opposite sign of Aries (self) to Libra (other), Aries is a masculine sign fittingly ruled by Mars, followed by feminine Taurus ruled by female Venus. The second half of the Zodiac begins with Libra a masculine sign ruled by Venus, followed by Scorpio, a feminine sign ruled by Mars and Pluto. And so these feminine attributes of beauty, grace, love are conceptualized via the masculine, mental air sign of Libra into sexless starry notions. Apollo is not warm and cozy, and, despite his gleaming perfections, he is not his father Zeus’ inheritor—in fact Zeus fears Apollo will overthrow him. Thus Apollo is akin to another light bringer, Lucifer or Luke Skywalker (a rather parapetic interpretation of the cardinal-air insignation of the sign!). Apollo’s introduction to the pantheon coincided, too, with the ideal (a very Libran word) of the love between males being a higher form of love than the heterosexual variety in keeping with a cultural shift that now favored patriarchy, particularly in Athens, as opposed to feminist Sparta, where women had far fewer rights.

To view the original Sabian Symbol themed 2015 Cosmic Blague corresponding to this day: Flashback! The degree point of the Sabian Symbol may at times be one degree higher than the one listed here. The Blague portrays the starting degree of for this day ( 0°,  for instance), as I typically post in the morning, while the Sabian number corresponds to the end point (1°) of that same 0°-1° period. There are 360  degrees spread over 365/6 days per year—so they nearly, but not exactly, correlate.

Typos happen. I don’t have a proofreader. And I like to just write, post and go! Copyright 2020 Wheel Atelier Inc. All Rights Reserved. Get your HAUTE ASTROLOGY 2020 Weekly Horoscope ebooks by Starsky + Cox.

Capricorn 24° (January 14)

This week is turning into a giant blur.

The following blocks of text are exceprts from my first year of  Blagues, nos. 1441-1445. I am reading through all of my Blagues, five per day, and posting some samples here. Now, in my sixth year of writing this Blague, by the time I get to my seventh, I will have journeyed through all the daily Blagues of my first five years. If that’s confusing I apologize. Year seven, I’ll only have to read through year six, once a day.

Today I have to go back and regroup on the Pisces stuff I wrote and circle back around to Aries again such that, in the next six days, I have absolute completed drafts of all our books for the year ahead. I’m in the process of taking inventory of what I’ve said about each of the twenty-four sex-signs since I wrote Sextrology; and what new avenues I can open in the exploration of the signs and the people born under them. That’s the goal. Then I’m going to move into the search for material in the Cosmic Blague mines or vaults (a very Scorpio notion). None of the above happened. Instead I messed around all afternoon. I did write this though:

Year on year I reach out to you in hopes of even the vaguest form of reconciliation. As so many of my friends have become your friends over the years I’m often asked: “Why do you and Billy not speak?” It’s a difficult question to answer. It isn’t because of my confronting you about doing drugs in the Zipper Factory dressing room (when it was no longer ours but the next act’s) plus your going around Stell and me to get a gig there because that blew over and we were friendly(ish) for years after that (case in point the below exchange).

I mean the real answer is because you broke off all connection when I texted you to say “I’d like to punch you in the nose” when I heard you had brought heroin to turn on Nath Ann and Vivian. By the way Vivian didn’t tell me that (Viv did NOT want Stella and I to know it originally) but it was a mutual friend of JVB’s and ours who did tell us (much to Viv’s consternation). I know that later it became an anecdotal piece of entertainment but at the time I did not think it was funny and I was severely pissed at you (given my own experience with your more “pushing” inclinations).

But I don’t tell our mutual friends THAT either when they ask because the true story involves other people. So what do I tell them? Mostly: You’ll have to ask Billy. The truth is neither Stella nor I ever did anything to you but call you out on bad behavior. I know I’m not perfect and I could have handled things more delicately. But we never did anything to hurt you. In fact, we did everything to help you dating back: introducing you our NYC friends, giving you a computer, giving you clothes,  making you meals, paying you for even the smallest rehearsal (mainly as a conceit),and  promoting your talents  which you have by the bucketful, to everyone we knew

To my mind you found the smallest excuse you could to dump us as friends and I must admit I found it VERY hurtful at the time. But me being me I guess, I still reach out, pretty much annually, to try and repair what can be repaired and you just ignore me. The definition of insanity being what it is it’s probably crazy to think I’ll hear back from you. Maybe you can at least provide a better answer to the question: Why it is we do not speak?

Pisces is the final sign of the zodiac and, as its opposite facing Fish suggest, it is a sign of complete paradox. It is all and nothingness, the alpha omega, the womb tomb of existence. Pisces is the mutable-water sign, symbolized by mists, fog, foam, (French: écumefrom whence derives scum) and, thus, both potent life-giving primordial ooze and the miasma of dead and rotting matter. The twelfth astrological house has been called the dust bin of the Zodiac; but, we would add, with a focused imperative on recycling, as befits list last turn of the wheel that Pisces portrays. When Pisces George Harrison wrote and sang that life goes on within you and without you, he was expressing from an archetypally connected place. This misty mystical, mutable-water sign portrays non-material existence, something which we scientfically now know is the whole of all existence, so-called matter only truly being various densities of said energy. Ruled by planet Neptune, named for the god of the sea, portrays the cosmic energy of dissolution. In Pisces we are dissolving, seeing and venturing beyond the seven-hued veils of Salome, over Iris’ rainbow—both, among the archetypes of the previous sign of Aquarius—having now entered into a magical place, a lucid dream world, a blissed-out state of Nirvana, or some other such transcendent realm. Neptune and Pisces at once represent the estate of purest imgaination, and also delusion and hallucination. Lest we forget that magic and imagination share the same etymology as imagery, any sort of which is ruled by the twelfth astrological house, that of asylum or theasylum depending how you look at it.

In our book Sextrology, Pisces woman and man are called The Dreamand The Drifter, respectively, and, of all the individuals on the astrological block, they are best at giving in or over to life on life’s terms, dissolving into the here and now of their circumstance, if only sometimes treading water, seeking foremost to avoid struggle (all of which requires a great sacrificing of ego). At the same time, paradoxically, the are most able of people to sustain a belief in certain transcendence, whatever their particular brand of sublimity might be. No wonder the sign’s motto is I Believewhich is more than just a spriritual knowingness, it is a power, Pisces’s super power, that works it’s magic on reality, making it malleable. This is the true meaning of the mutable-water assignation, and of Neptune’s dissolving force: If all we perceive isn’t truly fixed, but fields of energy blending, one into another, than the so-called substance of being is determined by the energy we are, and that which we are putting out there via our belief. If we dissolve the impediments to them—circumstance and limiting thoughts—and we remove the notion of space and time (trusting in inevitability of the manifestion of our belief) that which we belief in, primarily our self, is already coming into being. We all have this power. For Pisces people it just happens to be frontloaded. They more readily give over to the plot of life as it is already happening, like a lucid dreamer must do if s/he would have the dream continue (any lucid dreamer will tell you that if you try to impose your will on the dream it will dissolve before your mind’s eye).

Pisces are the most accepting of what is and thus able to make the greatest changes toward what could be. Acceptance is the threshold to Love. Not the personal or romantic sort, but the truest, purest spiritual form of Love as the animating force in the Universe. The great primordial goddess of the sea, from which she emerged, is Aphrodite (Roman: Venus), later demoted to a lower-case love-and-beauty goddess when she enterered the patriarchal pantheon that struggled to place her. We also see her, in emanation, as the wife of Neptune, Amphitrite, his famed trident originally being her symbol as the triple goddess, as is the shamrock, the lily (Aphrodite’s sacred flower), the fleur de lis. Another name for Aphrodite is called Mari (the sea) and she is thus cognate to Mary, Stella Maris, the star of the sea. Both Aphrodite and Mary have sons, Eros and Jesus, who are embodiments with Love. Eros, which means love, like Jesus, is the eternal babe, yet he is also the oldest, most primordial of the creation gods, just as Jesus is one and the same with the father-creator. Aphrodite and Eros took fish form and we know all about the Jesus fish from certain people’s automobile decoration. All this to say that the philosophical concept of Pisces is thus: That if you were to remove all physical manifestation from the world (which isn’t physical but energetic or spiritual anyway) what is behind it all, the very backdrop of existence, is, essentially Love. And someone once supposedly said something like: blessed are those who believe without seeing.

Pisces rules feet which, metaphorically, speaks to Pisces people being parapetitic. Of all the signs, Pisces are the least moored to their origins, both in terms of their actual home and family rearing, but also in the assignations that go along with it. From birth, nearly, Pisces people move in a desired direction of character and bearing, most often fancying themself to be erudite, if not encyclopedic in their knowledge, with a certain lockjaw upper crustiness. They are indeed fancy. And we don’t use the word lightly. For Pisces people it is an actionable verb whereby they art-direct their own personality and, really, they’re very being. They always embody a departure from their roots and they will stay in motion (unless, paradoxically, they isolate and roam around an inner world of their own making instead). It is the belief that they can be anything they want to be and, to look at the feet, again: before we can walk on water we best believe that we can.

Edith is born today as is Samuel Beckett it’s a good day and an unusual Aries day. I look forward to feeling all caught up on here so that I can start to channel what I’m feeling on any given day. Five days until Tori Scott returns to Oberon. I’m looking forward. Here some Aries thoughts

Aries rules the human ages of birth to seven years, that which is defined by adjectives like “terrible” and nouns like “tantrum”, at once the most helpless and most shriekingly selfish and demanding, others be damned. There is a lot to unpack here. The cardinal-fire sign, which translates to a spark (of life), our ignition and animation, also purpose, the Aries personality can be impulsive and reactionary and unbridled—think Jack Jack in The Incredibles. Mars signifies pure energy, that fight, spearheading goals and otherwise taking life by storm, but it also translates to the other adrenalin effect, flight. Athena mainly stays above the fray, employing strategy and diplomacy and prudence to support her aims. And so it is no surprise that the most singularly directed of sign-energies in the Zodiac, that Aries people are themselves singular, self-motivated, me-me-me, every wo/man for themself. They typically have pinpointed campaigns and quests they’re determined to go on and they do so, unapologetically, with a certain vigiliance. It’s as if they can’t separate what might appear to us to be selfish-from a self-originating sense of duty toward the fulfillment of their objectives. Aries feel they were bornto do whatever they aim for—that it is in their blood— endowed (and sometimes burdened) with an outsized mantle of import such that the pull of said goals feels heightened to that of a spiritually calling. Or maybe it’s vice versa—that Aries people, by virtue of their ardor, lend their pursuits this exaggerated sense. The point is singular Aries doesn’t second guess it.

In our book Sextrology, we likened the Aries woman to the female sheep—hey Ewe!—who keeps herself aloft, on her climb, watching male rivals vie for her below; mostly this speak’s the the Aries’ woman’s ability to raise herself above arguments in wise Athenian fashion, if not pit opponents against one another to elevate her own position. And though there is the usual overlap between the sexes of the same sign, you still might say with confidence that, as a rule, Aries man tends to be embody the warrior most often on the frontline, while Aries woman is cooly strategizing from her metaphoric war room. She may may adopt lambish air if only to pull the wool. Why sheep?, you may ask. Well, besides the warlike qualities of the Ram, in mythology, the war god Mars evolved from an agrarian shepherd god, really a male fertility figure. Athena, who may partly derive from the more ancient Minoan snake goddesses, armed as they are with serpents, and the bird goddesses like the wargoddess Inana, also Ishtar—Athena’s breastplate , the arguably sheepskin aegis, bears the venomous snake-haired head of the Gorgon; and she is associated with the owl, her wise totem, whose form she takes. Athena emerged as a defender goddess, among other attributes, a palace goddess, inextricably linked to Athens, although her Pallas pre-fix is more suggestive of a phallus, as she is appears, in full masculine garb, as male, and there we have those snakes again.

We likewise link Athena in the biblical line to Lilith, Adam’s first wife, predating Eve just as Aries precedes Taurus, whose own archetype isEve and other such “innocents.” Lilith and Adam split up because they both preferred the top position, and she too was winged with other serpentine qualities. Goddesses of feminism all. The symbols for Athena is a triangle or diamond shape set upon a cross—these portray yoni power above all. It is not a passive symbol of reception like the Venus glyph with it’s circular womb above a crossed staff (hymen), but, like Mars’ own genital “spear-and-shield ” symbol, it is one of definite action, even if on the defensive, blocking, a hard-knocks nod to the Ram, which, in nature, thus vividly defends its flock. The gender dialectic between men and women, cisgender or transgender, in this premier masculine sign (air and fire signs are masculine) of Aries, is  not one of masculine to feminine but a spectrum spanning from the purest objectifying masculine to the to most potent feminism, refusing objectification.

No surprise the sign of Aries rules the head—we enter the world head first, as a rule, and Aries people never abandon that trajectory. Mars and Athena wear brand plumed helmets, she having emerged fully formed from father Zeus’ head. This speaks to the Aries experience, suggesting they come into this world armed with their sense of purpose and ambition. Athena is the goddess of helmsmen and the Aries personality is pinioned on leadership. Mars starts wars, the first to charge into attack just as his more ancient shepherd status saw him likewise leading his charge, that is to say, the sheep in his keep. Leadership, initiation, action, ambition are all Aries’ strongest suits, coming on strong in situations, for better or worse.

In near direct contrast to Aries, which precedes it on the cosmic wheel, Taurus, the fixed-earth sign, is ruled by Venus, representing the metaphysical Feminine Principle in the cosmos and astrology. Fixed-earth is likened to a fertile garden replete with flowers, and points to the power of attraction. Planet Venus energy is thus centrifugal, working in the opposite fashion from centripetal Mars, whose symbol recalls a shield and spear or the male genitalia—the Venus’s symbol, a circle over a crosed staff, conversely depicts the female reproductive system, specifically, the passage to the womb and intact hymen, symboloizing innocence. Innocence, and the loss thereof, is the main theme of any garden myth, particularly, as it leads to certain temptation, again that power of attraction. The gods (read: human archetypes) associated with Taurus are the earthy nubile, pastoral nymphs and youthful male flower gods. The premier nymph myth is that of Io, who was turned into a snow-white heifer by Zeus to hide his affair with her from his wife Hera who knew what was what and only pretended to assume Zeus was giving the pretty cow to her as a gift. Hera was going to teach Io a lesson (mainly about men). The fairy tale of Snow White is a retelling of it all, with the beautiful but jealous queen her thakes the form of a wicked crone bearing poison apples. This is a direct lifting of Hera doing just that in Greek myth. It is notable that the Venus womb symbol also recalls a hand-mirror, vanity being one of the sign of Taurus’ primary pitfalls—the sign’s color green itself has a shadow side to its fresh and earthy garden variety.

The power of attraction is one that appeals, foremost, to the senses—sight, touch, taste and smell—and, thus, the appetites, assignations of the sign of Taurus which rules the throat, the gullet, as well as the voice, symbolizing talents (song apealing to the aural sense) another attribute of the sign. Taurus people make up the most sonorous vocalists on the planet. The second house of Taurus, whose motto is I have, encompasses value(s), talents, assets, both real and metaphoric, along with real possessions, money and all kinds of quality stuff. Whether refering to our own talents, our collectibles, or investment portfolio, it is all a matter of cultivation, tending to that which we hold most dear and at which we are most gifted, that which comes most naturally. The nymphs and flowergods toil not, nor do they spin, the bucolic sign of Taurus advocating for a passive, come hither, approach to even their own ambition. Their energy goes into drawing interest and audiences to them rather than doggedly chasing some quixotic dream.

You go to the garden it doesn’t come to you. And here we see the link to the vanity: Narcissus, Hyancinth, Adonis all being among those male flower gods. Unlike objectiveAries, the natives of which are focused outward, perhaps the least self-conscious of individuals, the navel (or mirror) gazing Taurus takes a subjectiveapproach to self, inclined to see themself from the outside in, forever making adjustments based on audience appeal so to cultivate that which is most valuable to the Taurus: adulation, if not outright adoration. Cows, calfs, bulls are totems of worship and idolatry. It may strike one as strange that Taurus is the premier feminine sign but it’s symbol is the masculine Bull; after much consideration of that cunundrum it occured to us that Taurus’ symbol itself might be purposefuly ironic and speak to the subjectivity, the power of passivity, of this sign: The Bull symbolically represents that which the sign of Taurus seeks to attract not its own character at all. The Bull fertilizes (the feminine), in more ways than one; in the garden analogy. Also, the upshot of the Io myth, which ends with her being chased by a stinging gladfly across the Bosphoros straights—the “cow ford”—whereupon she emerged from heifer form, appearing, as goddess queen, herself, , (Isis), now on par with Hera/Juno isultimate empowerment, characterized the myth of  Europa. The Io and Europa myths are like call the response, signaling a reversal. Io’s descendent (by Zeus), Europa, returns to Europe, back across the Bosphoros, on the back of Zeus, her lover in most beautiful Bull form, transfiguring the narrative, where the female is no longer the silly cow. Instead Zeus takes on that bovine mantle, yoked in floral garlands, transmuting Io’s shame into into Europa’s honor. In the biblical myth we have the same reversal: Where the femile inhabitant of the garden, Eva (Eve) sees her own original sins be revered by Ave (Maria), the glory of womanhood and innocence, if not virginity, restored.

Remember we said Taurus rules the senses and appetites, thus, we might say, all of the earthly pleasures, in which Taurus people may indulge, but more to the point: Taurus plays on the senses and appetites of others, that oomphy Venus energy, seeking union, weilding its power of attraction, Taurus people being most the most, often purposefully (people-) pleasing population on the planet. They offer endless delight, exhibiting myriad talents in multifold forms, their eyes and ears attuned to audience reaction, making endless corrections to their work, art or enterprise to achieve their one goal: to appeal, gain favor and make bank. Just as we move from the first sign of Aries to the second of Taurus, we swing from the Aries from Ram, the shepherd on the hill in the Christmas story to the nativity scene, the stable, the manger, or cow trough, being the center seat of the adoration scene, from the french, manger, to eat. We could just gobble him up, and we will later. Taurus energy not only seeks favor, to be prized and cherished, you might say it also wants to be consumed, possessed. Feminine Taurus stands counter to masculine Aries which seeks to conquer and perhaps consume in the process, though it isn’t the usual goal.

One of the things to admire most about a Taurean is their ability to hang a high price tag on themselves. They will do the work, cultivating themselves and their talents like a master gardner, playing nice, being pleasing, if not somewhat fauning and sycophantic which is always an inside-out expression of certain narcissism. The mirror is a recurring theme in the art, music, film and literature of Taurus creatives, and the natives tend to be very exacting in their appearance, cultivating a strong look that communicates not only their sensibilties but their intentions. They are, on this score, in a word, deliberate. This, along with practical and methodical and determined and focused are Taurus watchwords, being as myopic as real bulls are, metahporically speaking, of distractions or detractors, and also of their own artistic delusions.

Taurus people might be prone to overindulge their own appetites, at least that is the dime-story converntional wisdom on the subject. Moreso, they create hunger in others for themselves. This happens in positive ways, making people hanker for their skills and talents, but also finding ways to addict others to them. That didn’t make much sense but I think I am driving at something here. Taurus people collect other people, and they will prize certain and target others. Oh wow I really ran out of steam on that one. I will have to revisit this idea for sure as it needs fleshing out. Let’s move onto the Gemini experience…Ah! wait I have another Taurus thought:

The thing about fixed signs is they are not the originators, typically, of ideas, waves or movements in their creative work that are the cardinal signs that precede them. Cardinal signs struggle with follow through and sustenance, a Taurus word if we ever heard one. All fixed signs drill down and are all kinds of things that one might associate with being fixed. In Taurus’ case we say the sign energy can be stubborn, obstinate, determined and deliverate, grounded, etc, terms that one might apply to the Bull itself.  Taurus people don’t like complication, they naturally keep things simple, which manifests, most poignantly, in their going long and deep into specific interests, instead of being renaissance wo/men in any sense of the word. The are niche dwellers, narrowling focused, leaving no stones unturned in the cultivation of their uniquely pinpointed talents/skills with which they continually wish to flourish (flower!).

The twelve signs of the Zodiac are unique combinations of the four elements (fire, earth, air, water) and the qualities (cardinal, fixed, mutable) respectively. As the third sign, Gemini is thus themutable-air sign. Now if we think about what all that implies, air signs being the domain of the mind and social experience, we might say mutable-air translates to thought itself, a swirl of information, what is in the air or ether and consciousness itself. Gemini people are abuzz. The sign’s planetary ruler Mercury, named for the heady, mercurial, eternally youthful god of communication, orbits, like a moth to a flame, closest to the Sun. The planet symbol, with its antennae’d circle “head” on a crossed staff, depicts the winged-capped god himself, but also birds and bees and all kinds of dual angels and insects and the beguiling fairies. The horned Puck is Oberon’s messenger as Mercury is Zeus’s.

Quicksilver Mercury speaks to the speed of thought. Gemini’s sign motto is I Think. Mercury (again that small orbit) is all about immediacy, not only in time but also in space. Mercury and Puck can be here or there in an instant. Mercury is the Psychopomp, “conductor of souls,” the only entity who can travel from heaven (Olympus) to hell (the Hades realm) and back again. He is the dual(istic) god of the crossroads, the dealmaker, forever coming and going, and he rules the characters one finds there—merchants and theives, magicians, , barkers, buskers, and every assortment of savvy streetwise folk. All such characters collectively add up to, if only metaphorically speaking, describing the fast-talking, clever Gemini people, the Zodiac’s truest operators. Mercury’s female counterpart is the likewise winged Eris, goddess of discord, whose main myth bring’s us to the Gemini characters of Castor and Pollux, the mortal and divine Twins (Quadruplets, really) of the sign.

Eris was the only goddess not invited to this one glam party on Olympus. She got even by causing a war which began with chucking in an apple on which she scribbled “for the fairest among you”—Hera , Athena and Aphrodite naturally thought it was for them. Jump-cut to the Judgment of Paris (prince of Troy) who over Hera (who offered power) and Athena (wisdom) as bribes for choosing them, he picked Aphrodite who offered him the most beautiful woman in the world, Helen, who, along with her sister, Clytemnestra, were the other two quadruplets to the Gemini Twins. Helen was married, Paris abducted her, and the rest is tragedy. Mercury and Eris are master manipulators; their Disney counterparts being Peter Pan and Tinker Bell, among the modern archetypes of the Gemini people.

But let’s back up. The duality that is expressed by Castor and Pollux is that of mortality and immortality or divinity. In the bible myth, one is expelled from the garden (the fixed-earth Taurus) by biting into yet another apple which results, in what? Concsiousness! Which is characterized as duality and knowledge of opposities, good and evil and, yes, mortality and immortality. In fact, being booted from the garden, one is no longer granted everlasting life, let alone youth. Gemini personifies the duality of the human experience we all share. They vividly express various extremes, all of which come under the heading of that mortal/divine dichotomy. Gemini people seem to most easily occupy either end of the spectrum at once, like Mercury, god of the crossroads, the streets, the gutter, who can nonetheless ascend to the stars. Those crossroads symbolize our thoughts, or more accurately our choices. And Gemini people can more easily hold two opposing thoughts at once. They can be the most failingly human (embodiment of the fall energy) and the most soaringly “divine” in the expression of their soul, whether exhibited through their intellect or talent, the latter always seemingly fueled by the former. And sometimes they seem to express such divine talent as seems to be too much for their body to bear. Especially the women of the sign who push themselves beyond their limits, again, like a moth to a flame.

Whereas Aries is objectiveand Taurus is subjectiveenergy, Gemini combines the two, we have an energetic two-way street, input output, transmission. The energy of Gemini is literally electric and, moving our way down from the  Aries-ruled head and Taurus ruled throat and neck, Gemini rules the lungs, and also the arms (wings) while Mercury rules the nerves which you might say is the electrical system of the body, along with the wiring, those neurons firing into synapes, in the brain. Gemini people are surely nervy and they most easily get pushed to the exhaustion point on that score. Like Mercury, the mind is a trickster and it is literally formed by whatever thoughts are prevailing in our immediate enviroment as we are growing up—the third astrological house of Gemini rules early childhood conditiong as well as our sibling and sibling-like relationships that of our boon companions, such associations forming us the most during these formative years when, if we have the proper rearing, we might have the right choices made for us.

Peter Pan who eschews the word of grown-ups, needing both the company of other lost boys, his mini mob or gang, to reinforce his position as mercurial ring leader and, by the same token, he needs to infiltrate the minds of these other individuals, manipulating and forming their frames of mind to match his own hinged, as it is, on not wanting to grow up, living in a place that won’t recognize the passing of time, the ticking of that clock (inside the croc), forever wrestling with his shadow side which is determined to get away. Perhaps the shadow side of this dual figure is his repressed desire to face aging, death, morality, determined as he consciously is to keep on whistling in the graveyard; perhaps this is the only way he can fly, soar in his ambitions, via the power of positive thought, which can ill afford the entertaining of any limits, even inevitably natural ones. Geminis prefer to live by their wits and can be something of a rogue, a word that combines the good and the bad, into something hopefully benevolently badass. And it can get a little ugly, just as it might hit the heights of beatific experience. The individual who wrote the poetry of Walt Whitman or the person who sang the songs Judy Garland did might possess such divine insights or gifts that are beyond their human ability to bear them.

You’ve know doubt heard of Kubler Ross’s five stages of grief—denial, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance; well, the whole of Gemini’s life is number three: something of a bargain (as it is for all of us but, again, Gemini people personify this point along with other Gemini experiential points) which needs negotiating, both two sides of the bargaining table comprising the Gemini personality. Gemini is forever making deals with themselves—rationalizing, letting the ends justify the means, allowing for a little hell, some guttersniping, so to reach intended heavenly stars. As such, Gemini’s are the most immersed of all people in the happenstance of human existence with it’s endless interpersonal interaction, details, to-do lists, dealmaking and minutae; and embracing this street-level, well, level of life (instead of struggling with, or feeling dogged by it, like many of us do) they actually elevate the experience of so-called quotidien existence to a more exalted state-of-being. Which begs the question: why do we label these certain aspects of life to be that of mere or banal existence? Compared to what? Why aren’t the workaday elements of life viewed as something sublime if not spiritual; for that matter why do we not view the entireties of our lives as spiritual existence. How did we get the idea that the workings of this world are happening on some solely physical plan devoid of the divine? Well, the answer is simple: The messaging stems from the Judeo-Christian story of that fall from grace, that boot from Eden, (and associative myths world-wide) which the sign of Gemini represents as a metaphysical and metaphorical snap-shot.  The point is we only know this life, we cannot be sure that another one awaits us, so why not approach even the most prosaic elements of it from the perspective that it is all part of the divine choreography we are dancing? The classic gods, with their super human characteristics, lied and cheated and raged and fell into depressions just as we do, chief among these being Mercury, a god of petty mischief and pranks, and yet a divine being all the same. Gemini’s apple doesn’t fall very far from that tree.

To view the original Sabian Symbol themed 2015 Cosmic Blague corresponding to this day: Flashback! The degree point of the Sabian Symbol may at times be one degree higher than the one listed here. The Blague portrays the starting degree of for this day ( 0°,  for instance), as I typically post in the morning, while the Sabian number corresponds to the end point (1°) of that same 0°-1° period. There are 360  degrees spread over 365/6 days per year—so they nearly, but not exactly, correlate.

Typos happen. I don’t have a proofreader. And I like to just write, post and go! Copyright 2020 Wheel Atelier Inc. All Rights Reserved. Get your HAUTE ASTROLOGY 2020 Weekly Horoscope ebooks by Starsky + Cox.

Capricorn 23° (January 13)

Spending the day doing more packing and dumping, as it should be. My brain is pretty fried from all that has been going on out in the world. I feel like the entire planet is holding its breath. I want very much to forge a path here today and that is what I intend to do. My world is becoming increasingly uncluttered and that makes me very happy I have a great deal of road to hoe in front of me but I am determined to let it be as easy as can be. I have to watch my calorie intake again because I seem to be going in the wrong direction of the scale. I am not concerned as much as I have been about the domestic situation and MP seems to be a very cool guy while the opposition seems to be lame as can be. We will get notice of something being filed I’m sure and then the conversation should resume. I am not going to be put off my game I can tell you that right now. We will speak with movers and go from there because we can always find something if needed.

The following blocks of text are exceprts from my first year of  Blagues, nos. 1436-1440. I am reading through all of my Blagues, five per day, and posting some samples here. Now, in my sixth year of writing this Blague, by the time I get to my seventh, I will have journeyed through all the daily Blagues of my first five years. If that’s confusing I apologize. Year seven, I’ll only have to read through year six, once a day.

Breakdown: Today is our wedding anniversary. It’s thirty years. And neither of us seem to want to celebrate in any kind of grand way. I know we are private people and make nary a fuss about ourselves but honestly it is a very big deal. I haven’t really been in a celebratory head, strangely, feeling rather strung out and stretched thin by self-imposed busy work that constitutes getting a jump on things for the year. But I am rounding one particular bend now and it can be very painful to do so—writing is a blessing and a curse. Because there is no particular thing on the agenda I don’t feel like complicating matters here by trying to dredge up subjects to survey. I have enough on my plate to send me into nervous overload if not another word that might make for a scary pairing.

It might be cool to start the show on the subject of writing a new book. (Maybe I should write about Gemini woman. She is such a complex character and one which represents both the gift and the deal. That everything happens all at once in life. That’s one of the truisms.) And how I had to write and do all these things simultaneously and how I started getting strange neurological symptoms. That I had stopped working with outside “agencies” which literally was tantoumount to outsourcing my own. That publishing took the hit in 08 and 09; we had book deals and a design business and gigs writing horoscopes for silly money all kinds of places, and within a span of a year or so, most of those gigs dried up, our partners in the design business pulled out, publishers cancelled deals, and we had to grab onto whatever freelance flotsam we could to remain afloat, which we did en route to reclaiming said agency. Ari Emanuel gives Charlize Theron your book and she wants to make a TV show out of it and there are meetings and agents connecting us with writers and then a year goes by before you realize that Charlize and you have been told them same lie: That the other one of you wants to do a scripted show only while, for both parties, the opposite was true: we wanted to do a reality show. And you never know why WME lies to you both but when you broach the subject you’re dubbed some kind of problem child that was fun. Meanwhile you’re on talk shows and your new book has come out and there is hope but it definitely doesn’t seem to float.

But you’re you and you never fail so you pull at your bootstraps in a most Yankee fashion and you shake your Scarlett O’Hara fist to the heavens, while munching on a root vegetable, that you will never be in this position again. And you sit down and decide, right, we are going to do everything ourselves. And for starters we’re going to focus on the core of this enterprise and that is helping people, consulting them, and experiencing a hands-on rewarding process of making a real difference in others lives. And you say screw those magazines that no longer pay you to write horoscopes or features and you do it anyway, offering it up, free, for several years, to your readers. And you just forget agents and managers and lawyers—who needs them. If somebody wants a book from you they will one day organically, without effort, come into your live and tell you they are already a fan. And if you really want to relaunch your design business than others will invest in your doing that. Meanwhile you love to perform and help other artists make their way; so you start a non-profit and produce festivals and performances series and for nearly a decade you will do this because it feeds your soul. And then you wake up one day and all those things that fell away suddenly, and simultaneously, come back, greenlighted into your life and here you are a little bit overwhelmed. But that’s okay.

Because you will work your way through the miasma. And you will prioritize—first things first—and you will chip away, chip away, and sculpt your own multi-faceted Michaelangelo creation, from the inside-out. I’m going to spend this week mapping out all I want mapped out. I will have notes on how to restructure one of the proposal’s I’m putting out and can get that part sorted and have a new draft of the proposal proper by the end of the first week in May, realistically. And then spend the next three weeks writing the sample material. That means that between “now” and mid-May, I will have already scoured a good portion of the Blagues for material while making comment as to constitute new Blague. I’ve said things like this before but the process keeps needing to be refined as we merrily troll along.

I want to get my brain around a sort of list of priorities to discuss with our agent without overwhelming her because there is so much to do on that score. For starters I should look at the emails I would have sent to Tim B. regarding numbers and such; and to get an idea of where we are to date in terms of sales. Also we should discuss the Haute Astrology books and the prospect of making a deal for them. I want to talk about Sextrology and what can be figured out on the scroe—an inventory of all our foreign markets, plus the notion of updating (new edition) for HC. Hope all is well and looking forward…I want to go through all the notes, and sort of take, first a managing editor’s approach to the proposal, deciding what physical blocks should remain, move around or be removed altogether (we can decide what removed bits become fodder for the sample content and what should be totally cut).

The goal would be to get the proposal bit itself, then, in prime shape, start to finish, for presentation along with what will become the sample material. We would like to turn that bit around rather quickly. When it comes to the creation of sample material it will have to enter a bit of a queue as we have a number of projects currently in process that we would like to finish before giving complete focus to creating the sample content. We are going to look at our schedules and make a conservative determination. It might take a little time because, instead of saying any old thing, I think we will really take the opportunity, in the process of writing the sample chapter, to truly map out, as best we can at the onset, what might truly comprise the full range of marks we plan to hit in all the chapters, perhaps down to sidebar details and so forth, and be a bit circumspect in the process of creating would-be sample content instead of drafting what might be more like could-be sample content. To be more deliberate so to pave the way, creating more inroads, into speeding the plough on what will be the actual book-writing process.

Today (the day I’m writing this not the day listed above) has been another painful one. But the pain is put in my way so to transcend it. There are certain individuals that have passed through my life and caused me a lot of agita; and they have somehow converged within a large slice of a certain population where I once found community. One of the situations entails a very ill sycophant who over a decade ago used me as a stepping stone to meet certain people—the other was an old friend with a sadistic streak who gaslit me up the wazzoo. Somehow the worlds which they two entities inhabited became one and it would seem the gaslighting has become something akin to that green stuff they lit aflame in whatever episode that was of Game of Thrones, which is an ironic reference I didn’t even think I was making because there are people involved with that show who pepper this conversation.

But what is a person to do. I’m not the kind to try and defend myself against bogus slings and arrows. I’m the rise-above-it kind on this planet who will forgo friendships rather than fight for them. I cannot dignify such scenarios where the mercenary have thrown me under the bus; if people want to believe I’m the bad guy in such cases I will certainly let them. It’s just the way I am and what I do. I will always seek the higher grand and bid good riddance to old baggage. Still it hurts when you have to do it. There is no avoiding that. In one instance the sycophant gave my friend (to whom I was that stepping stone) heroin. This made me so furious because this bad apple had once tried to feed me anough percocet on which would could overdose. He’s a pusher, that’s what he is. And instead of running for the hills my other friend tried the fucking heroin.

Meanwhile I had been so furious when I heard (from yet another mutual friend that pushy pusherson and brought this friend a vial of death that I texted the sycophant and said I rather tame and metaphoric “I’d like to punch you in the nose” for giving so-and-so drugs like that. I became the bad guy. Meanwhile the friend who took the pushing once told me, when I politely asked if he minded my contacting a musician friend with whom he previously worked, to fill in for a gig that he would be very hurt. Well this sychophantic pusher (who is trying to collect famous friends, you see) was once a musician friend of ours who pulled a major fast one on us, which the other friend knew about; and yet that didn’t prevent this friend from succombing to the worship of said sycophant. If you could follow all that you deserve a medal. Anyway, I will get over all this in the end. I’m already over it. And they can all have each other (in the end, I realize, they all vibrate at a very low level despite appearances on social media); and I suppose I am more saddened to learn that the friend I thought was better than all that really isn’t.

I read yesterday’s entry and it pains me and I cringe at the same time. It’s so obvious how hurt I am but really I just sound bitter. But, even for that, I must forgive myself. I am not perfect or blameless in most situations but if one stays in the hurt nothing will ever change; by the same token I think it is important to be vulnerable and honest about ones feelings. If I were any kind of dimestore guru (which I am half the time), I would mask my vulnerabilities. Blame is the premier sympton thereof. Good for Virgo. I am starting to feel some kind of flow on the book writing side of things. Anyway t’will all be fine; we shall make it so. I have already been the bigger person. I always forgive. I’m the one who reaches out with the olive branch always, even to a fault. So I really don’t have anything to feel bad about. Everybody has there reasons for doing the stupid things that they do. And when it comes to Taurus people, for instance, it always comes down to vanity and vaingloriousness. I’ve always loved that word. I think I take this opportunity to know what I know, to keep my head low (i.e. power through) and stop worrying about the world around me. I will continue to reach out and send love and all the rest of it; I needn’t mind what comes back. This is something a Libra must learn.

Anyway I woke up at 3:14 this morning after going to bed at nearly 11, but instead of just lying there I got up to get out of me what was keeping me awake. I already feel better although it is two and one-half hours later and here I am, still, having written a mere paragraph. Little matter. My head is getting sorted, between sneaks online for whether Melisandre will return to Winterfell or random listings on Zillow. The birds started in at 4:30 and now the cars are revving up on the road. I heard a fisher cat last night and I awoke from a dream about two ferocious felines on the bit of lawn between our old house and barn, which I had two cross, with two companions, one of whom was S., I believe, and one a younger girl, blonde I think. I ushered them along as I kept the big cats at bay with I think a towel or a blanket. It was clear I was going to be attacked by these animals and clawed and gnawed to death so I woke up. The cats were tabby I remembered in the bathroom which immediately recalled visiting a friend with two domestic versions.

Maybe I was somehow traumatized by that trip? I don’t think so, although it could be a sadness over missing our house as our visit was to a friend’s new abode. That friend had once visited us at ours, some twelve or so years ago, so perhaps that is the dream code on that one cracked. Not so deep after all. Anyway, my dreams have been crazy vivid of late; and I’m going to chalk that up to a bunch of things, a certain positive withdrawal from toxic relationships and my self-deriving thoughts on that and any number of subjects. I don’t know folks. What can I say? It helps to write these things down and, really, to be writing my way toward my successes. I have a pretty clear grasp of what should happen these next few years. And, one way or another, I will not only survive or succeed, I will surpass my own expectations (which are the only ones that truly matter).

Already today we had a meeting about business structure in regard to budget flow; a reconceptualizing of the consultancy moving forard; and a bit of creative brainstorming on overall design of both the company and the collection, on the product end. And I’ve also made a realistic schedule for getting things in motion on the new book proposal I’m working on and subsequent roll-out info. It’s still so early in the morning and if I can spend the next two hours rejigging some of the book chapter introductions for next year’s horoscopes then you, Dear Reader will be the first to see that. Dare I say this process might actually end up being a bit of fun?

To view the original Sabian Symbol themed 2015 Cosmic Blague corresponding to this day: Flashback! The degree point of the Sabian Symbol may at times be one degree higher than the one listed here. The Blague portrays the starting degree of for this day ( 0°,  for instance), as I typically post in the morning, while the Sabian number corresponds to the end point (1°) of that same 0°-1° period. There are 360  degrees spread over 365/6 days per year—so they nearly, but not exactly, correlate.

Typos happen. I don’t have a proofreader. And I like to just write, post and go! Copyright 2020 Wheel Atelier Inc. All Rights Reserved. Get your HAUTE ASTROLOGY 2020 Weekly Horoscope ebooks by Starsky + Cox.