Pisces 29° (March 19)

It is the last full day of winter! Bad night of sleep. My e key is still sticking I will use my old guitar pick trick. Spent the morning learning about some Irish roots. I am seriously rethinking the entire process of what we are up to here. I’m going to get my brain around continuing to save for a house abroad that we can afford in cash and in the meantime just figure out getting ourselves into a healthy storage situation and established somewhere here, business-wise especially.

            That which Cancer man wants to instill in those in whom he invests his time and attention is a total sense of security. And few of us will disallow him from playing the metaphorical role of designated driver, if not trust being in his hands even over one’s own. Cancer is always appealing to someone, in one sense of the term or other. In our first book Sextrology his chapter is titled The Player, and he is indeed a natural actor, a coolly emotive and romantic figure who is rarely so macho a man as to read in the least bit threatening, any form of misogyny being largely absent in the Moonchild population. But as the title also suggests, Cancer is determined to be an A-player in business, that is to say one who is seen as adding great value to a company, institution or industry. As far as being a player in relationships goes, defined as someone who plays on a lover or mate’s emotions and then either ghosts or cheats on them or both: We say yes to the emotions bit, but generally no to the blackguard behavior. Possibly no other man wants to secure and sustain a steady relationship more than this one. He is, in all things tenacious, so much so we have likened him to gum on your shoe—in live performance, in an adult cabaret setting, one of us would deliver the line: Crabs are so hard to get rid of. It’s true! Guys of the sign are naturally insinuating, though perhaps not so much to be insidious. Cancer simply subscribes to the notion that the fulfillment of his potential requires getting his hooks into certain people and situations that provide patronage and a secure environment where what he perceivs to be his destined success can unfold in the fullness of time. In the meantime, Cancer man keeps it simple and his head down, quietly powering through. He is entirely pleasant, as a rule, across the board, to friends and acquaintances alike. In fact, there often seems little difference between the amount of interest or affection he appears to invest in any case. He isn’t very present minded, something you can work on Cancer—which may be product of being cosmically engineered to continually look, with hope, toward the future. This may result in anxiety; and he must work to find comfort in uncertainty. He is surely one of the existentialists of the zodiac, not given to the proverbial opiates of religion or set belief systems. He might intellectually perceive an ordered universe, but his gut tells him that the bulk of existence is random, and thus up to him to make the necessary inroads.

The following blocks of text are exceprts from my Blagues, nos. 1756-1760. 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.

Paris, Day Thirty Three of Sixty. And Day Five of Bikram. Had Michael as teacher and Marine was there. I did both triangles which is kind of a big deal. Came back and Timmie was already in the flat with her crap everywhere talking on speaker phone and eating. Ca va pas. It was really creepy trying to get ready and use the loo with this weirdo cleaner here. The agency is going to get a mouthful. We walked to Place Vendom to Carier and passed that evil Jose along the way. I don’t know what the universe is telling me, having me bump into that scary, rude, superior-acting creature. But it figures that he was you know whose boyfriend for years. They are both soulless posers with nothing but snark and narcissism running through their icy veins. Me no like. I think that might be the Cosmic Blague of the situation. Reminding me of the fact that I have often made very bad choices when it comes to friends. Cartier was kind of fun. And then it was a straight shot down Castiglione to Solferino to Raspail. It began to pour and we ducked into a café just at the start of rue Saint Dominique. Le Drop I think it was called. We shared a jambon emmenthal sandwich and had americanos. Then we headed to class where we studied the imperfect plus the conditionel as compared with the present and future simple. Then to Café de la Nouvelle Mairie where we were to meet/not meet/ok yes meet Nan. Two Gaillac, an endives pear and Roquefort salad and Saucisse with white peas. Then off to Cine Club of which it was both the anniversary of the thing and the birthday of the founder. They showed clips from a Woody Allen I had never seen plus one of Christopher Walken, one of Joaquim Phoenix, one from some Italian film where Bruce Springsteen stings and then The Last Picture Show which was incredible since it is the one film we always ironically brag about not having seen. There was this little party reception afterward which was so so French. And then we got a car home. I have to continue with posting some of the intros I’m working on.


As we move from the world of appearances and Light and heights of the Conscious Mind of Libra to the hidden dark, underworld Subconscious Mind of Scorpio, we embrace the Chthonian (subterranean) archetypes (personified as Scorpio people). Ladies first: We explore the Queen of the Underworld, the original femme fatale, Persephone, who sat frozen, entranced on her throne, the proverbial makerwhom you’d may be loath to meet. In mythology, Persephone is Kore (the Virgo Virgin) in her underground aspect. Kore turned to Persephone when she was raped/captured/dragged down to the underworld by its god, Pluto, namesake for Scorpio’s planetary ruler. And like Persephone, who is akin to Kali, Scorpio woman is a snapshot of the goddess in her destroyer aspect, which is worse than it sounds. First, as far as astrology goes,  there is no death—only regeneration, something, which, along with all forms of deep transformation, is endemic to this sign. Scorpio has many totems, all of a piece—scorpion, spider, serpent, lizard, dragon, eagle, phoenix and so forth. Planet Pluto’s orbit, is elliptical, following a pattern like that of the phoenix rising and falling and rising again—regeneration, transformation, reincarnation, reinvention. Up from the ashes come the roses…Scorpio archetype Scarlett O’Hara will “never be hungry again”, she vows, chomping on a subterranean root vegetable excavated from the destruction of her former life (Tara: read terra, Earth, that former Kore-Virgo incarnation). No. She will spin a web and all will be caught in it. That is the way of the Scorpio woman. She chases nothing and nobody. The fixed-water sign (read: ice) lies in wait and entrances (read: paralyzes) others into doing her bidding. And we thank her for it, grateful to be tenderly trapped by her Spiderwoman’s kiss and to see her feast on what we bring to the table to please her. She is like some lady spy whom we know is only telling us half the story, hiding much behind her wry Mona Lisa smile—what does she know that we don’t know? For one thing: to make no apologies for herself and to live life on her own terms, which includes your happily playing the role she assigns you. Should you go against whatever fate the zodiac’s Persephone has in store for you, then, quicker than you can say Demi Moore, you will feel the full wrath of this dragon lady. Some fiery-icy Scorpio femme fatales who’ve made their way onto the silver screen are Vivian Leigh, Hedy Lamarr, Grace Kelly, Gene Tierney, Anne Hathaway, Veronica Lake, Dorothy Dandridge, Louise Brooks, Joanna Moore, Jean Seberg, Lauren Hutton, Tabu, Anna Wintour, Sally Field, Gabriel Union, Jodie Foster, Winona Ryder, Holly Hunter, Tilda Swinton, Demi Moore, Julia Roberts, Emma Stone, Ciara, Rachel McAdams, Sean Young, Björk, Goldie Hawn,

The sign of Scorpio rules the genitalia, something we’ve had fun exploring in view of people of the sign personifying its energy. Maybe because we have so long lived in a Lizard King patriarchy, it’s Scorpio lady’s unabashed embracing of her potent womanhood that’s spurred the notion that she’s the most infamous of females. Yes, she is the zodiac’s unapologetic Scarlett O’Hara who is also voted most likely to be slapped with a scarlet letter. Imagine Georgia O’Keeffe opening a gallery in 17th century Salem? Sex and death and regeneration are all associated with Scorpio’s astrological 8th house. The abyss inhabited by the sign’s planetary namesake god of the underworld, Pluto, and his female counterpart Persephone, symbolizes the subconscious, the subversive, all that is hidden, a mystery, as death (mort) and sex (petit mort) are; and if Scorpio man is, like his totem serpent/dragon/snake, a probing, investigative if not prickly character, then Scorpio woman personifies—Persephonizes—the dark interior itself. Earth’s crystalized cave interior matches Scorpio’s assignation as the fixed-water (ice, crystals) sign. Scorpio woman is the unseen, enigma incarnate. And, if Scorpio guy can be something of a dick, then we will let you finish this sentence yourself. The point is that Scorpio woman is well aware of the power she wields and how threatening, diminishing, if not castrating her vagina-dentata character might make her. She knows it automatically weeds out the faint of heart, the phonies, the wannabes and the sycophants, as she demands the company of strong figures and, when it comes to male lovers, those virile enough to match her concentrated, potent femininity. Otherwise she might flash that Mona Lisa smile or outright laugh in your face while pointing lower. Persephone, akin to Kali, is the goddess in her destroyer aspect and it is on this archetype that Scorpio woman draws. Persephone is the proverbial maker you meet upon entering her own dark, moist underworld where she decides your fate based on your earthly deeds. Go ask Alice or any of these Scorpio female inhabitants of W-underland what’s what: Grace Slick, Joni Mitchell, Helen Reddy, Mary Travers, Shere Hite, Roseanne, Kathy Griffin, Whoopi Goldberg, Hillary Clinton, Kate Clinton, Condoleezza Rice, Jenny McCarthy, Ann Sexton, George Elliot, Marie Curie, Sylvia Path, Ethel Waters, Marie Antoinette, Indira Ghandi, k.d. lang, Margaret Mitchell, Georgia O’Keeffe.


In our book Sextrology, the Scorpio Man chapter is titled The Stranger. Like his archetypal god Pluto, namesake of the planet ruler of the sign, Scorpio men choose not to live on some bright, shining Olympus as part of any pantheon of other joiners, but rather inhabit their own dominion—Pluto’s underworld symbolizes ones inner life and the realm of the subconscious. Scorpio man finds fatuous the world of appearances—rose-colored glasses aren’t endemic to his fashion sense. He is a born outsider, an anti-hero, and he delves the depths of experience that are typically hidden from view, whether they be taboo aspects of life or the murmurings of our own repressed psychology. Scorpio is deep. And he can be dark if only to bring the unknown and unexplored to light—just as those alternatively attempting to keep things light tend to cast a long shadow of repression. Scorpio man can get under our skin in an attempt to root out our secrets; he acts on subconscious instinct to cure what ails us as, the saying goes, for individuals or society as a whole: We are only as sick as said secrets. So bid enter the brooding, seemingly pessimistic, subversive miner for meaning and hearts of gold: Albert Camus, Pablo Picasso, Neil Young, Johnny Carson, Dick Cavett, Charles Bronson, Robert Mapplethorpe, Seth MacFarlane, Roberto Benigni, Richard Burton, Christopher Columbus, Fyodor Dostoevsky, Joachim Phoenix, Auguste Rodin, Bram Stoker, Dylan Thomas, Kurt Vonnegut, Jonathan Winters, Leon Trotsky, Gordon Ramsay, Lyle Lovett, John Keats, Neil Gaiman, Matt Drudge, Rodney Dangerfield, Claude Rains, Voltaire.

As each sign is associated with a different set of body parts, Scorpio rules our tender bits and pieces. We’ve had a lot of fun writing about this and in our live shows too, when we’ve gone through the entire zodiac talking about the various personality types per sign vis à vis its anatomical rule. For Scorpio man is, by nature rather rigid—being a fixed sign—with a, shall we say, stiff countenance—he tends to turn his whole upper body, not just his head, to look this way or that. (Think of Johnny Carson.) The sign of Scorpio boasts multiple totems including the lizard, the snake, the serpent, the dragon, the phoenix and, you might say that the male of the sign is, on the whole, fairly reptilian looking. Okay fine—no beating around the bush (ha, ha) he can look like a penis: with his signature sinewy physique, veiny extremities, hooded hairline, if he has hair at all—Scorpio does bald quite readily—never mind his penchant for turtlenecks. And the metaphor extends to his personality which is best described as probing if not intrusive, insistent if not unrelenting and, yes, often, truly deep. Nobody invests more interest and concern in, or is it control over?, those he loves; and nobody can be a bigger prick when crossed. Take a look at this list of Scorpios and you tell us if it’s all phallus-y or not: Adam Driver, David Schwimmer, Damon Wayans, Seth MacFarlane, Owen Wilson, Matthew McConaughey, Dolph Lundgren, Ted Turner, Howard Dean, Dylan McDermott, Dermot Mulroney, Leonardo DiCaprio, Joachim Phoenix, Ryan Gosling, Sam Rockwell, Gerard Butler, Johnny Lee Miller, Ethan Hawke, Mads Mikkelson, Ben Foster, Chris Noth, F. Murray Abraham, Wallace Shawn, Sam Shepherd, Romany Malco, Bob Hoskins, Ed Asner and B.D. Wong.

Paris, Day Thirty Four of Sixty. And Day Six of Bikram. So I will be on my own for much of the day. I will do my yoga but of course. Michael will be the teacher again maybe? I actually forget who teaches today. Then I will take myself to lunch at Fronde and have a bavette and frites and do a whole bunch of writing. As a matter of fact I can probably pull some things directly from that notebook at this point. Then S. will meet me and we will come up and do some work for class and then get into terrible row about this same old problem explaining how the hoops and bracelet should be. I have explained this one hundred times and yet it seems to be me who is to blame for causing confusion. Whatever. I end up having to go to BHV to get some plaster of Paris to patch up a hole. I stop along the way. I am talking to the guys downstairs because I had given them my card and they have apparently googled us. It turns out the servers are straight as I suspected and one of them lives in the building and is apparently the one that smokes all the weed. I forget everybody’s name the moment which is annoying. I know that the blondy one has a pretty teubish name. Then we had a client from California. I thought I would be tough loving today with this person, but it didn’t seem to go over all that well. I think I let my frustration show a bit and didn’t quite hit the mark I was aiming for. Oh well it is like this sometimes. I skipped dinner and just basically passed out from fatigue, having stayed out so late last night, and doing this daily yoga. It is more draining than energizing at this point. There is this Valentin in class who is superhuman in every seeming regard. I will mean to tell S. all about it.


We often opine on of the extreme nature of Sagittarius. The sign rules all the exes: excitation, experience, exoticism, exposition, exhaustion of the senses, and so on. The extreme dynamic of the sign is archetypically linked, for women of the sign, to the supreme queen of the gods, Juno (Greek: Hera), who represents womanhood in both its mother aspect—she rules marriage and motherhood—and in it’s most potent aspect—she is also goddess of power and influence. (In her maiden form she is Hebe, and in her crone aspect, the anagrammatical Rhea.) She is a most emphatic deity, if not always an empathetic one, the exhibitionist peacock being her totem animal. Her symbol is an asterisk on crossed stick, denoting her signature radiance. The ride of Lady Godiva—goddess-diva—is a display of her über nature. As in this medieval tale where she puts out the eyes of “the peeping Tom”—Juno/Hera’s favorite form of retaliation was blinding, or fully burning, those who challenged her, the natural consequence of getting too good a glimpse of her sizzling supremacy. It’s a rather ironic nod to Sagittarius’s motto: I see. The image of a naked Lady atop a wild mare is indeed the very image of the female Centauress, proudly displaying herself in all her glory. Sagittarian woman are inheritors of Juno’s power. They often exhibit a glamazonial stature, or have a wide and brimming expression; they make scenes, take stands, whether in public or personal protest, or in celebration of self or something universal. (On the flipside of the theme, they can be just as skittish of attention, often audacious and wary, in turns.) As a rule, though, they will not be overlooked. If anything, they risk overexposure. Sadges designed to dazzle or otherwise cause a stir: Jane Fonda, Ellen Burstyn, Daryl Hannah, Kim Basinger, Judi Dench, Kaley Cuoco, Tyra Banks, Anna Faris, Susan Dey, Liv Ullman, Sarah Paulson, Agnes Moorehead, Billy Jean King, Sarah Silverman, Amanda Seyfried, AnnaSophia Robb, Katherine Heigl, Honor Blackman, Julianne Moore, Natascha McElhone, Ann Coulter, Katie Holmes, Milla Jovovich, Lucy Liu, Christina Applegate, , Bette Midler, Tina Turner, Mayim Bialik, Sinead O’Connor, Vanessa Paradis, Taylor Swift, Miley Cyrus, Britney Spears, Nicki Minaj. Pow!

As Sagittarius is ruled by planet Jupiter, named for supreme ruler of the gods (Greek: Zeus), it follows that Sagittarius women draw on the Juno archetype, the aforementioned and undisputed queen of heaven and goddess of women andpower—as ever the twain shall meet—akin, as it is, to knowledge, the major attribute of the higher minded ninth astrological house corresponding to the the ninth sign of Sagittarius. Don’t you just love the notion of power being personified in a female deity? Surely, it’s a power that has been a target of suppression. And yet, of all the female signs laboring under a patriarchal paradigm for centuries, Sagittarian women managed most to distinguish themselves, wielding force and influence on a global scale, in probably the only way historically afforded them: by way of publishing, another major attribute of the ninth astrological house—along with philosophy, belief systems, higher education and all means of mind expansion and genius. An otherwise isolated world of disenfranchised people, women especially, would never have experienced the brilliance—Juno’s blinding radiance—of Jane Austen, George Eliot, Emily Dickinson, Louisa May Alcott, Willa Cather and others whose inheritors include Madeline L’Engle, Dawn Powell, Joan Didion, Rita Mae Brown, Sarah Silverman and, by extension, artist Marina Abramovic. Fittingly, the powerful Sagittarius female writer has often penned work along themes of the the female estate, or the power of higher-mind consciousness, or both. Don’t get us started on Ellen Burstyn—have you read her autobiography Lessons In Becoming Myself?And let us not forget the authoress of I, Tinawhose autobiography is hinged on her personal struggles against male oppression. Tina herself is a hinge pin of the Sagittarius archetype, being something of a showgirl and a showboat. For Sagittarius power isn’t just expressed in expository writing, its exhibited in an overt brand of talented expression that rarely shies away from over-exposure. And in thattradition we give you, along with Cyrus, Minaj, Swift, Spears, Aguilera, Turner and Midler: Betty Grable, Maria Callas, Nelly Furtado and, without so much as singing a note, Anna Nicole Smith.


Sagittarius is the mutable-fire sign. Ruled by Jupiter, named for the chief lightning god (Greek: Zeus), the sign is associated with genius flashes of inspiration and the ninth astrological house of the higher mind. The Centaur is at once a high-minded seer and a savage beast, connecting an ordered conscious (Libra) with a carefully mined subconscious (Scorpio) into a stream-of-consciousness cum superconscious. Sagittarius men try to ride that point between—the mark ‘twain—Samuel Clemens of course, being of Sagittarian stock—questing after the extrinsic, expansive, exotic, exploratory and other exciting, not to mention ecstatic, experiences.  In the process of growing third eyes, they may risk ultimate burnout. Jim Hendrix begged the question “Are you experienced?” His fellow psychedelic Sagittarians have nodded in agreement:—Nostradamus, Walt Disney, Charles M. Schulz, C.S. Lewis, Jean Genet, Andrew Carnegie, Beethoven, Winston Churchill, James Thurber, Little Richard, William Blake, John Milton, Gustave Flaubert, Andre Gide, Jim Morrison, Frank Zappa, Keith Richards, Ozzy Osbourne, Billy Idol, Uri Geller, John Malcovich, Brad Pitt, Jake Gyllenhaal And, hazy or no, purple is the color of Sagittarius, a royal hue, dating back to antiquity, associated specifically with the god of wine and supposed disorder Dionysus, the natural inheritor to father Zeus/Jupiter.

Dionysus was called the thigh-born because, when Hera-Juno in all her radiance (see Sagittarius woman above) revealed herself to Dionysus’ pregnant mother she burned; and Zeus grabbed the unborn child and sewed him up inside his thigh—the body part associated with Sagittarius—to complete the baby’s gestation. Thus we have a male born from a male, suggesting natural patrilineage; and indeed Sagittarian males are natural inheritors of their own fathers’ traits, characters and attributes, rarely at odds with father the way many males can be. Indeed Dionysus embodies Nature (typically feminized as) “herself” asa masculine force. And in combining the Apollonian (Libra) energy of ordered outward appearance—symbolized by column-straight oaks and laurels—and the Chtonian (Scorpio) energy of the unseen underworld—portrayed by random, chaotic, gnarly roots—the Dionysian (Sagittarius) experience is symbolized by the (god of the) vine which is just as random and gnarly as roots yet grows upward and outward along those ordered trees. Dionysus (Roman:Bacchus) might have created a disorder via his bacchanals, but he always remained a calm and knowing presence, couched on his dais, holding his staff topped with a pine cone, a nod to the conical pineal gland, the Cartesian “seat of the soul” and the expansive third eye which actually produces calming melatonin. Dionysus is all about expansion through pleasure, the mind and experience.

Akin to the wildly expansive vines associated with Sagittarius’ imagery are the wildly branching lightning flashes—Sagittarius is the sole mutable-fire sign. Planet Jupiter is named for the lightning wielding god. In our human experience, mind expansion is often experienced is through humor—laughter being the release of the shock of breaking through existing boundaries—something which opens us up, frees us from constraint, providing relief. The planet’s namesake chief god Jupiter loved to laugh; he is also called Jove, from whom we get the word jovial. What we as a culture find funny is something, typically absurd, yet right under our nose, that is pinpointed and uttered for the first time. It is that electric connection between the blatant truth of a matter and its fresh realization that inspires bolts of explosive laughter.  It requires keen intelligence to observe (Sagittarius’ motto is: I see) then communicate existing elements in our experience that instigates such shocks we humans call humor, which at once open our minds and bring catharsis. Lest we forget that the mythic Centaurs were both sages (wise ones) and shamans (healers). Let’s hear it for the wise and witty wonders of the zodiac: Mark Twain (an invented name speaks to—the mark between— that point of connection!) James Thurber, Charles Schulz, Woody Allen, Billy Connolly, Richard Pryor, Jon Stewart, Ben Stiller, Judd Apatow, Jonah Hill, Rodney Dangerfield, Sam Kinison, Jamie Foxx, Ray Romano, Frank Zappa, Ted Knight, Red Foxx, Fred Armisen, Dick Van Dyke, Andy Dick, Gary Shandling and Bill Hicks.

Paris, Day Thirty Five of Sixty. And Day Seven of Bikram. It seems someone from Hachette might be interested in the book and I passed my signature along to Laurence who is hopefully settingling this long suffering suit; and we gave our two cents on the TV negotiations. Yoga class today in French was fine. S. went to get some lunchy things—ham sandwiches and quiche and salad—and then we had a meeting with Cricket who then set off for Dries. We need to fix a budget for that work, which I have tried to assert but to no great avail. We will walk quite quickly to our last class at the Alliance Francaise which is a bit sad really. Some of the students seemed a bit broken up about it. After we walk to Café de la Nouvelle Mairie. We both have the endive, pear and Roquefort salad and I have Coq and Stella has Lieu. And then we share un far de pruneaux for dessert. We are not walking home that is for sure. So we order another car. She is going to Switzerland in the morning and I’m a bit edgy as a result.


As the sole cardinal-earth sign, symbolized by a mountain, Capricorn is as initiative, directive and pioneering as the other cardinal signs of Aries, Cancer and Libra. But, being in the element of earth, we aren’t subject to any fiery aggression of Aries or emotional urging of Cancer or ideological instigation of Libra. Rather, Capricorns scale, or move, mountains, slowly, quietly, over Time, with little regard for notice, let alone, notoriety. Capricorn woman is her own authority, looking to herself, and her own growth and achievement. On the shadow side, if she’s not tending to her own success and fulfillment, she will embody melancholy, elevating it to monumental status. A daughter of Saturn, old father Time, she isn’t lamenting but she does draw on the past, the golden days of yore, whether her personal own or universal ones. She thus projects a timeless, classic quality—not one prone to trends or obvious taste or behavior. She is an elegant creature disposed of an unapologetically self-contained character. You go to the mountain—she doesn’t come to you. Thus Capricorn has gained the reputation of being haughty, high and mighty; which is rarely the case. She merely personifies an ascended state of being that isn’t subject to scrutiny or censure, especially not by any patriarchy. She inhabits a private and rarified emotional retreat that serves her need for self-preservation; and while other signs might find her modus operandi too lonely-making to adopt themselves, she cultivates an enduring quality of self-reliance that trumps any need for outside validation or even support. Like a creature in hibernation, a nod to this winter sign, she conserves her energy for both the time and the travel ahead. She knows where she’s going, but is in no rush to get there. Her pace may be off-putting to others, but she is as sure-footed in her ascent as her symbol goat, a sea-goat actually, with a long fishy tail, symbolizing the store of emotional insight and intuition she carries with her and continually draws upon in her singular life journey, which she can be reluctant to share with, not to burden, others. Ah, those iconic Capricorns: Janis Joplin, Susan Sontag, Ruth Wilson, Diane Keaton, Dolly Parton, Kate Moss, Christy Turlington, Carla Bruni, Helena Christensen, Sade, Joanna Newsom, Marianne Faithfull, Mary J. Blige, Patti Smith, Pat Benatar, Annie Lennox, Marlene Dietrich, Stella Starsky (born the same day as Dietrich, no big stretch there), Ethel Merman, Imelda Staunton, Gypsy Rose Lee, Dame Maggie Smith, Dame Shirley Bassey, Nigella Lawson, Zooey Deschanel, Tippi Hendren, Dina Merrill, Holland Taylor, Sienna Miller, Mary Tyler Moore, Betty White, Maureen Dowd, Simone de Beauvoir, Ava Gardner, Sissy Spacek, Susan Lucci, Katey Segal, Julia Louis-Dreyfus, Eartha Kitt, Tracy Ullman, Nichelle Nichols, Anna May Wong, Betsy Ross. Nichelle Nichols.

It’s from the grand mother goddess Rhea Cronus that we derive the word crone, the wise woman, the goddess in her wizened third aspect. Rhea is the Titan mother of the Olympian gods who saved her son Zeus from being gobbled to death by her husband, Cronus (Saturn), taking goat form as Amalthea to feed him from her horns o’ plenty. She also bequeathed her estate of orgiastic rites, leopards and wild retinue to her grandson Dionysus, Zeus’s heir apparent. The noisy cymbals are named for her as she is also called Cybele. She is the archetype of preservation, the personification of Capricorn’s cardinal-earth energy, emblemized by the aforementioned mountain—indeed, Rhea is the mountain mother who made her home on Mt. Ida. Capricorn women—Parton, Spacek, Fanny Bullock Workman—do love their mountains. The zodiac’s Mrs. Beasley—gunnysacks and granny glasses not withstanding—the Goat woman rarely thinks of herself as TheSecond Sex, despite it being the ironic title of Capricorn Simone DeBeauvoir’s tract. She naturally wears what might be traditionally considered men’s clothing. Enter Annie Lennox, Marlene Dietrich, Paula Poundstone, Patti Smith, Diane Keaton, Susan Sontag and even Mary Tyler Moore who fought a network to be able to sport her aptly named Capri (Goat) pants.

Capricorn woman makes no apologies for herself, neither explaining nor complaining. She is endurance incarnate who achieves over time. But she’s no mere climber—she personifies the astrological super power of ascension, for she is not a subscriber to struggle. She rises to the top of her achievements—the crème de la crème—via an outsized faith in her inner resource and the slow, steady outlasting of others who, by comparison, seem like flashes in the pan. They do, as the above list of Capricorn icons suggests, boast career longevity and often have their greatest successes later in life.


Just don’t call it a comeback: In many ways the trajectory of the Capricorn man can be a cautionary tale. Unlike his slow and steady sister, he tends to peak early then backslide, a literal dissident, falling from favor, only to climb his way back into public awareness or celebrity. The Capricorn totem is only half goat, remember. The Sea Goat boasts a fish tail which makes sustaining a climb rather tricky. Like the goat god, Pan, the original mood-swinger who would frolic wildly, then turn on a dime, running and wailing for cover and comfort, Capricorn man can get caught up in a frenzy of worldly status, delights, certain hedonism and over-exposure, resulting in an often visible personal fall. He’s complicated. The word tragedy actually means: goat song. Goat deities were culture gods who brought sophistication and certain decadence into the world—historically, we know these dynamics go hand in hand: Culture actually enriches during the downfall of a society. The Sea Goat is the very image of a being emerging from the primordial soup, like an actual culture growing from the germy world of a petri dish, even the most advanced forms of life having originated from the slime. And so you can never really keep a good Capricorn man down. He’s complex. He always seems to grow back even stronger and more enriched by his personal downfalls or minor tragedies into the most enduring and thoroughly more seasoned a character. Though we’ve yet to see the return of a Mel Gibson or, even, a Nicholas Cage, we would happily embrace and applaud the reconstituted, self-redemptive Capricorns likes of Jude Law, LL Cool Jay, Anthony Hopkins, Jared Leto, Bradley Cooper, Ralph Fiennes, Ricky Martin, Jason Bateman, Jon Voight, Patrick Dempsey, Rod Stewart, Ted Danson, James Earl Jones, Muhammad Ali (G.O.A.T. i.e. greatest of all time), Jared Leto, Danny McBride, Dax Shepard, Tommy Morrison, Robert Duvall, Frank Langella, Shawn Hatosy, David Caruso, Julian Sands, Oliver Platt, Desi Arnaz, Jr., Dave Grohl, Howard Stern. Apparently even J.D. Salinger is yet to have another peak in his career own posthumous career as his stash of unpublished rolls out into the public light this year.

The Capricorn male Goat is the male archetype of the winter season (surely, the new-born babe in Christian lore wasn’t a Capricorn but a Pisces as would befit a Jesus Fish): Capricorn is ruled by Saturn (Greek:Cronus), named for the old Titan king of the gods, since retired. He carries a sickle, prototype of Old Father Time, who, with and his sister-wife Rhea, ruled the Golden Age, when peace and harmony prevailed and nobody had to work to eat as the earth provided in abundance and when people lived to be hundreds of years old with a youthful countenance, dying peacefully in their sleep. Ah, the good old days. Saturn’s namesake Satyrs are, of course, goats, saturnine (gloomy) and saturnian (excessively lustful) which does speak volumes on the Capricorn man’s character. In the Canaanite mythos, Baal is the goat-god prototype of Moses, that mountain climbing geezer whom god commanded to build a tabernacle out of goat hair. Now there’s an idea. Capricorn: tenth sign. Moses: ten commandments—rules to live by—the Capri-corn is the goat horn of plenty signifying the cosmic energy of containment, preservation, resource, restriction, structure and stricture. Moses isn’t hippy dippy like Jesus. Moses has conditions. He is the grand-father authority. The original middleman. Church and religiosity as opposed to direct spiritual connection. Structure and discipline make Capricorn men sticklers for all things comme il faut.  They feel a responsibility to hold the (goat-hair) fabric of life together. Tradition! And it explains the need to impose rules in a world where, one skeptically suspects, few folks are moral. Capricorn men do Itright, which is adorable when applied to social etiquette—how to serve a cocktail, what weight cloth to wear in what season, or on which pinky to place a signet ring. They can be flawless in worldly doings. But, on the shadow side, practicing what they preach proves difficult; and just as their aesthetic includes a golden-age decay their desires can be likewise decadent. Only half cloven with a fish tail, the sea goat loses footing and backslides, dissident,  toppling from Sinai or Olympus, allowing themselves to be scapegoated for a multitude of sins. In effect, Capricorn are at once the most exalted and most human of all beings. And while they may not be perfect, they can be the hottest, most interesting, grandest daddies of them all: Cary Grant, Danny Kaye, David Bowie, Bradley Cooper, Orlando Bloom, Denzel Washington, Ryan Seacrest, Kit Harrington,  Michael Stipe, Steven Soderbergh and arguable fall guys Jim Carrey, Andy Kaufman, Elvis Presley, Richard Nixon, Tiger Woods, Phil Spector, Gerard Depardieu, Jim Bakker, J.D. Salinger, Rush Limbaugh, Mel Gibson, J. Edgar Hoover, Martin Luther King, Jr.

Paris, Day Thirty Six of Sixty. And Day Eight of Bikram. I leave for the studio and S. leaves for Switzerland.  I stop by the wine shop and get some goodies, but I don’t actually end up drinking wine after all. Crashed out after yoga. And then went to the Pot Vernissage and heard from Stefan. Had dinner at La Fronde by my lonesome. Steak tartare. Watched more Sabrina. Pretty uneventful really.


The sign of the Waterbearer has a number of classical, biblical and literary archetypes associated with it. On the female side, we see many an inspirational figure, from the cup-bearing goddess of youth, Hebe, to Rebecca at her well, to Galadriel from Tolkien’s Middle Earth—whether or not he consciously linked her, etymologically, to Galahad, of holy grail (water bearer) fame, is anyone’s guess. But let’s stick to the classic: Before being replaced by Zeus’ boy toy Ganymede, the job of dispensing the nectar of the gods belonged to Hebe. As goddess of youth, she is one and the same with the rejuvenating nectar she pours out. Hebe is the maiden-form of her “mother” Hera, who, along with heranagramm\atical mother Rhea-Cronos (crone aspect), forms a specific aggregate of triple goddess. Hera is the Sagittarius archetype, Rhea the Capricorn one, and now we follow those signs with Aquarius, which claims the recycled goddess Hebe as its own. She is married off to Heracles (meaning: beloved of Hera), a mortal made god by this love match. He married up. Hebe thus takes the form of a descending goddess, like Iris, Hera’s messenger, goddess of the rainbow who travels down her colorful path to bring the “good news” to mankind, another dispenser of divine joy. In the Tarot, the Star card depicts the Waterbearer. Makes sense: Aquarius and Leo are so-called astrological opposites, that is, higher setae of each other ad infinitum, spiraling upward through the zodiac. Leo is associated with our star, the Sun; while Aquarius portrays another Sun, far out. Stella (Star) in A Street Car Named Desireis this Aquarian archetype wedded to the palpably mortal, brutish, if not Herculean, Stanley with whom, in a nod to Iris’s rainbow, she would get those colored lights a-spinning. So we celebrate the far-out Aquarius woman, starlit from within, with her outsized ancient noggin plopped atop an ever youthful body, bringing inspiration to we mere mortals. She can indeed be a bobble-headed beauty, like Tweety Bird, eternally bright-sided, uplifting, and rather impervious to any catty detractors in her midst. Think of the universally outspoken, progressive and inspiring likes of Oprah Winfrey, Ellen Degeneres, Sara Gilbert,  Yoko Ono, Alice Walker, Germaine Greer, Rosa Parks,  Laura Ingalls, Carson McCullers, Elizabeth Bishop, Toni Morrison, Colette, Alice Walker, Mia Farrow, Vanessa Redgrave, Carol Channing, Amy Tan, Stella Adler and, on the shadow side—we all have one: Ayn Rand, Sarah Palin, Paris Hilton, Eva Braun.

When Mick Jagger sang, “she’s like a rainbow” he was likely referring to an Aquarian lass. Again Iris, goddess of the rainbow, is one of the classic descending goddesses that portrays the Aquarius woman archetype. She watered the clouds with her pitcher and brought divine inspiration to mortals from the gods. Also, just like the god Mercury, namesake for the planet, which is “exalted” in the sign of Aquarius, Iris carries a caduceus staff and bears wings. But we do see her shadow side in mythology in that she has a nemesis, an evil twin, called Arke, whose own wings are iridescent, who betrayed the Olympian gods, siding with their enemy Titans. Enter the biblical figure of Salome, female counterpart to the biblical water bearer, John the Baptist: Her dance of the seven veils—one for each color of the Roy G. Biv—is, like the rainbow itself, a beckoning beyond the veil of material illusion, terrestrial life, to experience reveal-ation, and communion with the divine. Whether through revelation or ascension or death this will be achieved. But, as that story suggests, the Aquarius woman can make others lose their head. The Zodiac’s elusive star can inspire us to heights to lofty too reach and from which we can easily fall from grace. Or is it that we project our greatest hopes and wishes on this gorgeous girl guru failing to realize that despite the natural upliftment she provides, she is flesh and blood and, given her soaring spirit, is that much more in need and in search of grounding. Here some more beautiful, humanitarian, bobble-heads: Laura Dern, Natalie Dormer, Jennifer Aniston, Elizabeth Banks, Christina Ricci, Heather Graham, Molly Ringwald, Ida Lupino, Tallulah Bankhead, Amy Tan, Laura Ingalls. And

Mena Suvari, Emma Bunton, Heather Graham, Mischa Barton, Charlotte Rampling, Sheryl Crow, Portia DeRossi, Isla Fisher, Emma Roberts, Rosamund Pike, Elizabeth Olsen, Kerry Washington, Tiffani Thiessen, Jane Seymour, Princess Caroline, Princess Stephanie, Brandy Norwood, Amber Valletta, Zhang Ziyi, Shakira, Diane Lane, Mia Kirshner, Minnie Driver, Christie Brinkley, Kelly Rowland and Farrah Fawcett.


Aquarius is Leo’s so-called opposite on the cosmic wheel. Leo is associated with our Sun, while Uranus-ruled Aquarius is likened to a distant Star, the Tarot card of the same name depicting the wondrous Waterbearer. Likewise, the legendary archetypes of the signs are related. For instance, whereas male Leo draws on the brazen Sun-king Arthur, Aquarius men expresses the visionary character of Merlin who, incidentally “lives backwards”, coming from the future, an attribute of the Aquarius-ruled eleventh house of the Zodiac. In simple terms: the Aquarian can seem alien, out there—in truth, he’s given glimpses of what is to be, to which the rest of us aren’t always as privy. In his best light, he is ahead of his time—a progressive, liberal, egalitarian with a scientist’s mind bent on freeing humanity from passé conventions that bind. This can see him being held up as some kind of guru, a power that can sometimes go to his egg head. He can be as emotionally distant as the future and as surprisingly unpredictable as a sudden mutation— he is a personification of that very quirk—which, if you know your biology, creates a new, evolutionary path that ensures the survival of the species. Think about it: Charles Darwin, Nicholas Copernicus, Wolfgang Mozart, Thomas Jefferson, Thomas Edison, Galileo, Abraham Lincoln, Lewis Carroll,  Grigori Rasputin, William Burroughs, James Dean, Paul Newman, Charles Dickens, Peter Gabriel, Ashton Kutcher, D.W. Griffith, Langston Hughes, Bertolt Brecht, Anton Chekhov, Federico Fellini, Phillip Glass, Huey Newton, John Travolta. Oh, and did you ever notice how many of your Aquarian male friends have bat-like teeth? Hello: Michael C. Hall, Eddie Izzard, Robbie Williams, Christian Bale, Eddie Van Halen. No really, it’s a thing—check it out.

The classic Greek male Aquarian archetype is Ganymede, a beautiful shepherd boy whom Zeus, in eagle form, whisked up to Olympus and immortalized as his cup bearer. As a youth, the Aquarian male is likewise open to being taken under the wing of older and wiser mentors who promise a more exalted existence. But who’s zoomin’ who? Under  this fixed-air sign ruled by Uranus—the Sky God of the Universe—Aquarian men do seek a more heavenly, other worldly rather than earthly, experience of life; whether that translates to living a utopian vision; a rarefied lifestyle; being held up as some sort of guru, demagogue, demigod; or getting lost in futuristic, scientific dreams and visions. The Aquarian is naturally detached—one might argue that they are thus the most healthy, emotionally, rarely falling prey to codependence; although they tend to breed it in others, and in spades. The Arthurian Ganymede would be Galahad, pure enough to reach the grail and receive the manna therein, which is really what is happening with Zeus elevating his beloved boy to Olympic heights. Grace and Truth are the provenance of the sign of Aquarius and men born under it are poised—free from excess restraint of human interaction—to be completely open to, er, receive, and be taken up, by these principle-energies. Eternally youthful Aquarian love objects with a strong calling, or those who play the part or simply look swell in a Speedo: Mark Spitz, Greg Louganis, Steve Reeves, Lorenzo Lamas, Dane DeHann, Freddie Highmore, Cristiano Rinaldo, Elijah Wood, Jeremy Sumpter, Harry Styles, Chord Overstreet, Joseph Gordon Levitt, Taylor Lautner, Justin Baldoni, Andrew Keegan, Nick Carter, James Dean, Justin Timberlake, Casey Spooner, Billie Joe Armstrong, Matt Dillon, Brandon Boyd, Ashton Kutcher, Neal Cassady, Burt Reynolds, Tom Selleck.

Paris, Day Thirty Seven of Sixty. And Day Nine of Bikram. After yoga took a bath and got some Jenlain and had a fun day. There are fashion people everywhere. And people have funny hair and beards walking around. I went for a beer at La Fronde. Tried watching Locke and Key. It doesn’t make much sense. Heard people talking about Hermes show and how weird this fashion week is.


Just as Pisces man draws on the fishy archetype of Jesus, Pisces woman is a big Mary. The sign is ruled by Neptune, whose symbol is a trident, originally that of the triple goddess, akin to the Celtic shamrock or the gnostic lily or fleur-de-lis. Biblically, there are three Marys—the mother Mary, the virgin (sacred harlot) Mary Magdalene and that elusive, etheric one who seems to pop in and out only at crucial moments, like the crucifixion and resurrection. Taken together, she is the great goddess in triplicate, akin to to the Great Goddess of the Sea, Aphrodite, curiously also called Mari. Mary’s della robbia blue gown fringed in white is the sea fringed with foam, that primordial mutable-water Piscean froth from whence Aphrodite emerged. Indeed the two Pisces “Fish” of the zodiac arethe totems of Aphrodite and her son Eros. Eros is love, Jesus is love. And just as Pisces man’s sexuality can put the ishy in fishy, Pisces woman tends to take up with guys who are a bit light in their loaves and fishes, if not as lovers than as platonic soul mates. We often cite Tennessee William’s Blanche du Bois, an incarnation of the medieval Blanchefleur (who rocks that fleur-de-lis) as the modern emblem of the Pisces woman. She is forever remerging from her bath, creating Neptunian enchantment, reeling from her Belle Reve and looking to share a cherry pop with some pretty young thing barely out of short pants. Likewise, the personality of the female Pisces, the Everywoman of the zodiac, runs the gamut from fantastical diva to tragic dame-on-the-verge, from sacred lover to sacrificial killer. And for this, and so many other reasons, we are enraptured by the likes of Nina Simone, Elizabeth Taylor, Kathy Ireland, Sharon Stone, Tammy Faye Baker, Tamar Braxton, Glenn Close, , Christine Ebersole, Laura Pepon, Chelsea Handler, Patsy Kensit, Theresa Russell, Rue MacClanahan, Eryka Badu, Liza Minelli, Elis Regina, Nancy Wilson, Edna St. Vincent Millay, Anaïs Nin, Patty Hearst, Bernadette Peters, Tyne Daly, Lynn Redgrave, Anna Magnani, Rihanna, Ursula Andres, Queen Latifah, Irene Cara, Isabelle Huppert, Eva Mendes, Eva Longoria, Eva Herzigova, Meow Meow, Drew Barrymore, Dakota Fanning, Rashida Jones, Bernadette Peters, Connie Britton, Dana Delany, Vanessa Williams, Kristin Davis, Jennifer Love Hewitt, Julie Walters, Sandy Duncan, Juliette Binoche, Sharon Stone, Ellen Page, Emily Blunt, Veronica Webb and Sophie Turner.

In a cartoon echo of the seemingly perfect Pisces woman archetype, to which Blanche du Bois pretends in low light, smoke and mirrors, Penelope Pitstop might be considered a modern figurative incarnation of this most profound of water signs, another echoing of the eternally sought-after but insouciant goddess of love, Aphrodite.  Both Blanche and Penelope would have you believe she is the ideal woman, pure in thought and deed—a proclivity that is also particular to the Pisces woman, who may be loath to admit she can be as much a pit stop as she is, at least, a pretense of a prude. But that’s the Pisces paradox. She’s at once rarified and raunchy. Think of that other, golden girl Blanche character that a Pisces actress embodied so brilliantly on TV. Blanche—white—pure as the driven snow. Or is that snow incessantly plowed? It’s this very combination of personality traits that makes Pisces woman the most dramatic of creatures and, if we may say so, a most beloved character by the queer if not general population. She is all about sexuality and spirituality, the gutter and the stars, those opposite facing Fish of her sign pointing upward toward heaven and downward into the very depths of earthly delight. In French the world for that pure white creamy sea foam is écumewhich one and the same for the word scum or, as the myth of her birth from the god Uranus suggests, the same word minus the s. So let’s hear it once again for the Pisces diva, as sometimes tragic and utterly triumphant as a lady can be!


Just as the sign of Aquarius, the Waterbearer, ushers us into Pisces, so too does the Aquarian archetype of John the Baptist, the Waterbearer, prepare (ye) the way for Pisces archetype, Jesus, the quintessential Fish. Aquarius represents revelation, glimpses of the future, truth and potential joy—men of the sign being notoriously lost in their visions—whilst Pisces man, in perpetual Jesus mode, represents a sustained drifting, like one in a lucid dream, personifying the perennial state of Nirvana, the “true reality” lodged beyond the veil of illusion which characterizes our material life in the visible, tangible world. That old chestnut. In Sextrology, the Pisces Man chapter is indeed entitled The Drifter. More than any other individual, Pisces treats existence as one big womb of potentiality in which he floats toward desired goals without the efforting or struggle that most of us exhibit. His life is one long process of incubation whereby his goal is to remain peaceful, if not pacified by others, most notably, strong-willed partners or lovers, who help pilot his life while cleaving to him as some sort of life saver, spiritual or otherwise. The metaphor of Jesus walking on water illustrates Pisces’ ability to be buoyed by his belief that the universe provides the perfect unfolding of his destiny. There is thus no need to stress. Life goes on equally within and without you. At least that seems to be the message of flowpersonified by the vibrationally itinerant Pisces male. Here: a list of pretty, Jesus-y and, some, messiah-complexed drifters: Jack Kerouac, George Harrison, Jake Bugg, Peter Fonda, James Taylor, Kurt Cobain, Roger Daltry, Emile Hirsch, Peter Berg, Jon Bon Jovi, Victor Garber, Ricky Wilson, Common, Johnny Cash, Johnny Knoxville, James Blunt, Matthew Gray Gubler, Ja Rule, Micky Dolenz, Rudolf Nureyev, Vaslav Nijinsky, Lou Reed and, ugh, L. Ron Hubbard.

In truth, you Pisces men fall into two categories, George Harrisons or Rex Harrisons, though sometimes the twain shall meet in fastidious activists like Harry Belafonte or Ralph Nader. Pisces, the mutable-water sign (think fog and mists, elements of illusion and enchantment) is ruled by Neptune, the planet of fantasy, magic, imagination, delusion and dissolution. As such, Pisces men are endowed with the power to fully inhabit their fantasy selves, dissolving from their make-up any traits, or, from their story, any truths that run counter to their romanticized vision of self. The sign of Pisces thus boasts a host of Peter Perfects—in counterpart to Pisces women embodying Penelope Pitstop—fancy fussbudgets whose often rough and humble origins bely their aristocratic airs and high-brow raison d’êtres. The lock-jawed George Plimpton, David Niven, Tony Randall, Jim Backus, Rex Harrison, Peter Graves, Rob Lowe, Mitt Romney, Pierce Brosnan, Kyle Maclachlan, Kelsey Grammar, French Stewart, Ron Howard and others you would never label a bad boy: John Barrowman, James Van Der Beek, Bret Easton Ellis, Robert Sean Leonard, Tim Daly, Chris Martin, Freddie Prinze, Jr., Chris Klein, Barry Bostwick, Michael Bolton, Josh Groban, the Ken doll “Ken Carson”, Mr. (Fred) Rogers and Anthony Daniels, (Star Wars’ c3p0)all seem programmed for proper protocol, on screen and off. Ironically, Pisces little-Lord-Fauntleroys often go for ribald love objects with a blatant sexuality, while Pisces’ signature priggish airs can make their own seem indeterminate.

And here, a subject we touched upon in Sextrology: Although there is no “reason” we can cite that would make this theory true, the empirical evidence suggests that, over the last century especially, more African American Pisces men have “broken through” the racial barrier, even at times in our regretful history when doing so would seem impossible. Perhaps it has something to do with Pisces’ power of Belief; or it’s due the Neptunian cosmic energy of dissolution, liquefying said barriers, as befits this mutable-water sign; or it’s chalked up to the archetypal energy of men of the sign who embody a compassionate, pacifistic Christ-like nature and a super-natural nobility of spirit. (It would be all of the above) And, while there is no real way to know; we shall simply let the following list of Pisces men illustrate the point: Frederick Douglass, Garret Morgan, William H. Johnson, Harry Belafonte, Sidney Poitier, Nat King Cole, Ralph Elison, Fats Domino, Smokey Robinson, Quincy Jones, Charley Pride, Al Jarreau, Wilson Pickett, Marion Barry, Emmanuel Lewis, Spike Lee, Charles Barkley, Terence Trent D’Arby, D.L. Hughley, Seal, Shaquille O’Neal, Stedman Graham, Terrence Howard, Lester Holt, Common, John Boyega.

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 2021 Wheel Atelier Inc. All Rights Reserved. Get your HAUTE ASTROLOGY 2021 Weekly Horoscope ebooks by Starsky + Cox.