December already feels much longer ago than it really is, yet many of us feel that we are going backward. For a change, the planetary culprit is not Mercury retrograde (Rx), but Mars Rx, which began its long, slow, stumbling dance back-assward on 12/6. Until 1/6, Mars was in Leo; not the best sign for Mars to transit, but by no means the worst, though Mars in Leo did form two dodgy oppositions to Aquarius planets (Venus and Pluto) during the holiday season. This could've led to confusion re friends with benefits, "situationships," and other dynamics that confused the heart, the head, and the nether reaches throughout the end-of-year festivities.
But that is ancient history, at least until Mars reenters Leo and opposes Pluto again. I am here to discuss what Mars is up to now. Traditional astrology maintains that Mars in Cancer is in its "fall," i.e., debilitated, even more so than Mars in the Venus signs of Libra or Taurus. This is because the sign of Cancer, though Cardinal (i.e., able to start things and lead), is ill suited to the nature of Mars. Ruled by the Moon, Cancer is indirect, sensitive, subtle, reflective, intuitive, and moody; none of those traits are associated with the go-getting, aggressive, straightforward MO of warlike Mars. Mars retrograde in any sign unfortunately indicates a period of time in which bullies prevail.
On 1/6 (a day that may or may not live on in infamy in the US), Mars slipped back into Cancer. On 1/15, Mars opposed the Sun in Capricorn (which manifested in the L.A. fires and the loss of Capricorn genius David Lynch), and on 1/23, just three days after Inauguration Day in the US, Mars sextiled Uranus in Taurus. A sextile presents as opportunity for revolution; unfortunately, in this case, the revolution is unfolding on the wrong side of history, and the Fourth Estate (the free press) has been bought, sold, and muzzled. It is worth mentioning that the United States of America is a Cancer Sun, as well as Elon Musk, the power behind King Trump (much as I hate to mention it, being a Cancer Sun myself). The Project 2025 architects and executors are feeding on our fear and suffering (as David Lynch put it, garmonbozia, which looks like the worst creamed corn imaginable). With Mars retrograde in the sign of its fall, the US is being attacked (Mars) from within (retrograde). I also tend to believe that any planet Retrograde must deal with its shadow side, although since the sign is Cancer, any confrontation is more like a moonwalk. Also on 1/23, Mars opposed Mercury, marking the beginning of the purge of federal employees, who were pressured to resign or simply fired via email, as well as Trump issuing executive order after executive order on acts designed to isolate the US from the rest of the world and not help a single non-billionaire American.
A fittingly grim metaphor for Mars Retrograde in Cancer is the avian flu that has rendered eggs, if you can even find them anymore, a luxury good. This is because the sign of Cancer rules eggs, and an afflicted Mars can lead to health issues (specifically fever, inflammation, and "attacks"). If this flu spreads to cows, look for the same thing to occur with dairy products (also Cancerian foods). And now that the US has been withdrawn from the WHO and the CDC now stands for Censored Denied Communication, we are flying blind and are vulnerable (Cancer again!) to infectious disease, including a new pandemic. But worry not: soon an anti-science, anti-vax ex-junkie with a worm in his brain will head the Health Dept. and we can all sleep better at night.
Today Mars trined Saturn in Pisces, with the Moon in Cancer heightening the intensity. A trine is the most harmonious aspect, since the two or more planets are of the same element (in this case, Water), but the planets involved in this trine are at odds with each other: if Mars is the motor, Saturn is the brakes. Saturn, which is structure, rules, discipline, and authority, also does not do so well in dreamy, escapist, boundary-free Pisces. I am just hoping that for a change, the news (or whatever sane-washing articles pass for the news) does not turn my stomach.
Speaking of which, if your stomach has been more sensitive than usual, you can thank Mars in Cancer. I happen to have this placement natally, and I have had more upset stomachs in the past month than in the past year.
I also really wish that project managers would read this so they can stop pushing untenable deadlines on their teams. The combination of winter sluggishness (yes, the days are lengthening, but it's been a cold, snowy winter for many of us) and Mars retrograde can really put a damper on one's energy levels. If there was any justice at all, we could all hibernate or take a break for the next two weeks, until Mars finally turns direct on 2/23. But that is simply not the gung-ho, powering-through American Way.
What about protesting in the streets? If you insist, but with Mars doing anything in Cancer, call your elected officials from the comfort of your home instead.
If I sound unpatriotric, I am not. I am upset, tired, and in mourning for what America has turned into, thanks to the fact that 1/3 of eligible citizens did not cast a vote and a plurality voted to reinstate (against their own self-interest) a twice-impeached failed-businessman personality-disordered felon for a variety of reasons ranging from low information (e.g., the promise of lower gas and grocery prices) to delusion (Trump has learned his lesson, doesn't roll with Project 2025, and will surround himself with good, smart people) to racism (not wanting a Black woman to be president) to wanting a strongman to Make America Even Crueler Again. We are now a third-rate Banana Republic that soon won't have a single ally left in this world, which will probably make certain other strongmen dictators very pleased indeed.
And this is really for another rant that around 11 people will read, but we in the US (and probably other increasingly right-wing countries as well) haven't seen anything yet. Once Neptune leaves Pisces and enters Aries this spring, the fun will really begin.

The Planet That Wears Its Heart on Its Face
Showing posts with label astrology. Show all posts
Showing posts with label astrology. Show all posts
Sunday, February 9, 2025
Sunday, November 10, 2024
11/9/61: Brian Epstein Meets the Beatles on Their Turf - The Cavern Club
“He was incredibly honest and a little naive, but he entered a world that was totally alien to him. I don’t think the Beatles will ever acknowledge how lucky they were to meet up with a man who was devoted to them so completely and an honest man to boot.” -- George Martin, the Beatles' producer
Since it's been nearly a year since I've posted on this site, I thought I'd warm up with something that makes me feel, well, warm instead of numb, despairing, and anxious.
And it just so happens that it was 63 years ago today that Brian Epstein spent what would turn out to be most crucial lunch hour of his life witnessing the Beatles play a set at the Cavern Club, a jazz club in Liverpool that was turning toward pop music. By then, the Beatles had become the Cavern's house band. It was most likely at high noon on that November day that Brian Epstein first laid eyes on the group on their home turf. The Beatles already knew of Brian as they were all customers at the nearby NEMS (North End Music Store) he managed -- the hip component of his retailer family's business. What's more of a question mark is how Brian knew (or did not know) of the Beatles: the official story is that Raymond Jones, a teenage boy shopping at NEMS, asked Brian for the "My Bonnie" single, which had been pressed in Hamburg with the Beatles backing British rock star Tony Sheridan. Brian then apparently asked around about the Beatles, which led to his decision to check them out at the Cavern. Yet this version has been contested, as the Beatles were already being written up in Mersey Beat, a popular periodical Brian would've been aware of. Also, by that time, rock records were outselling classical records at his store. Finally, the Cavern Club itself was already on Brian's radar: not only was it a stone's throw from NEMS, but he'd gone there to book a jazz band for his 21st birthday several years back.
But whatever the truth was, Brian knew that he would stick out like a sore thumb in the gritty basement of a club crowded with young, working-class rock 'n' roll fans on their lunch break. (Indeed, caverns are very Scorpionic places.) So he wisely alerted the club's manager, Bob Wooler, in advance of his arrival (with a newly minted "assistant" in tow to make him look even more impressive). Brian was only 27, but in 1961, he was far more middle-aged "establishment" than the young men he was soon to manage and shephard to stardom. He dressed conservatively and was also from a far cushier class than the Beatles. Not that Brian had an easy time of it: he was Jewish in an environment that condoned casual antisemitism, and he was gay at a time when homosexuality was still illegal. But that day at the Cavern, he received the club's equivalent of the VIP treatment: he did not have to stand in line to enter the club, and Bob Wooler, announced Brian's presence over the PA system.
Unfortunately I do not have Brian Epstein's exact birth chart, but his noon chart (which would seem a good fit: a 10th-house Sun, a Venus-Neptune conjunction at the MC, and the Nov. 9 Sun at 16 Scorpio close to his ASC) interacts very strongly with the noon chart for the Cavern Club.
The ruler of the Cavern Club lunchtime-set chart is Saturn in its ruling sign of Capricorn, placed in the 1st house; by the time Brian said hello to the Beatles backstage, Saturn was probably conjunct the ASC. Saturn was also moving into a trine to Brian's Sun at 25/26 Virgo. While Saturn, Capricorn, and Virgo do not seem at all conducive to the wildness of rock 'n' roll in general and the Beatles rough style in particular, keep in mind that Brian Epstein was destined to become the band's manager -- very Saturn/Capricorn -- and he also "branded" them in a highly detailed-oriented way (Virgo), remaking them from an unkempt, all-over-the-place act who sometimes ate onstage into polished, suit-wearing perfomers who bowed at the end of pre-planned sets. Brian was also very much a father figure (Saturn) to the band.
What must have hooked Brian from the get-go is apparent in the Cavern Club chart: the Moon at 0 Sagittarius square Uranus at 0 Virgo and sextile Jupiter at 0 Aquarius. Three planets at zero degrees of a sign signal something new; in this case, the seeds of the 1960s revolution. The first iteration of the Beatles, the Quarrymen (talk about literal rock!), had formed four years earlier, but it was not until Uranus entered Virgo that they became stars, not just "big in Hamburg" or "big in Liverpool." Not only was Brian Epstein a Virgo; he was born with Uranus at 0 Taurus, exactly trine transiting Uranus. So Uranus moving into Virgo was like a bolt of lightning for him, and it manifested in the band known as the Beatles. Pluto was a little farther along in Virgo on 11/9/61 -- conjunct Brian's Venus, and as I mentioned before, Brian was born with a Venus-Neptune conjunction, giving him refined taste, a love of the arts (he'd studied acting in London before coming home to run his family's music store), but also an unhappy love life (he was attracted to the "rough trade" who beat him up, robbed him, even blackmailed him) and, thanks to insomnia, an addiction to sedatives that made the Beatles' drug use look like a teddy bears' picnic.
Brian later claimed to have been "immediately struck by their music, their beat, and their sense of humor on stage -- and, even afterwards, when I met them. I was struck again by their personal charm. And it was there that, really, it all started." What he could not say was that these slovenly yet attractive young men in leather jackets were the embodiment of his rough-trade fantasy -- especially John Lennon. Interestingly, Lennon shared an important placement with Brian: the Moon at an early degree of rebellious, eccentric, iconoclastic Aquarius -- the sign Jupiter, planet of good luck and expansion, had just entered in November 1961. Combine that with the Moon-Uranus square that occurred during this fateful lunchtime set, and it really was electric. After the set, when Brian went backstage to say hello to the Beatles, George Harrison asked cheekily, "And what brings Mr. Epstein here?"
Brian himself could not answer that question. He was a shop manager, not a rock manager, and they were clearly from different worlds. But a few minutes later, while Brian was having lunch with his assistant, Alistair Taylor, the truth came out: Alistair thought the band was a train wreck, but Brian thought they were phenomenal, and he wondered aloud if he should manage them. After returning to the Cavern Club several times over the next month, Brian broached the subject, and in January 1962 they signed a five-year management contract. In an interesting twist of karma, Brian would literally die of an overdose, either by accident or on purpose, in 1967, when the band was at the pinnacle of their success. For John Lennon, at least, this was the beginning of the end of the Beatles: their father figure, the man who turned a group of immature, provincial young men into a global phenomenon and the symbol of the Age of Aquarius, was gone.
Saturday, December 2, 2023
Update from My Exploding Head: 4 Major Transits to Natal Planets
I knew it wasn't going be easy. Somehow, though, I thought if I knew to watch out for things coming to a head on December 3, I'd be able to prepare for it.
But nothing on earth could've prepared me for so many transits to my natal planets that my head really feels like it's about to explode. Even though I've seen some of these transits before.
If even one person who is going through one or more of these transits sees this and doesn't feel as alone, I will feel slightly better. And I know that writing this down will make me feel slightly better anyway. Here goes:
Neptune in Pisces has been opposing my natal Pluto in Virgo for the past year and a half, while also conjuncting my Pisces Descendant. This is a generational opposition about which not nearly enough has been written (just as Gen X has been more or less invisible except for the first half of the '90s, from the publication of Douglas Coupland's Generation X novel to Kurt Cobain's suicide), and it's a heavy one that has more than earned the right to sing the blues. When an outer-planet transit of this magnitude occurs on the angles (whether it's Asc./Desc. or MC/IC), it's amped to the max, unavoidable to deal with. In my case, this opposition largely manifested in the long goodbye that was the dissolution of my not quite a dozen-year relationship with a Pisces Sun. Another person was involved, though not in the usual way (i.e., a current lover), but my first love, who'd broken my heart and ghosted me before such a term existed, before we technically Did It. Neptune in Pisces is like a supersize, deep-fried order of the past. This particular ghost from my past was a bit too old for me at the time and probably did me a favor leaving me relatively intact, but ... Older Ghost Guy contacted me out of the blue to apologize, and we had this messy correspondence that turned even messier when I went back to reread my teenage wasteland diary from the spring I knew him and realized how cruel he'd been, far crueler than he'd acknowledged or that I'd allowed myself to remember. It made me question everything about all my relationships, and I recognized a pattern of no boundaries, a Pisces specialty: both intruding and being intruded upon emotionally, even psychically. Here, there, everywhere, and nowhere. As a Cancer Sun with a Scorpio Moon, Pisces has always "completed" me, but now that feeling began to dissolve ... and my Pisces did not have my back because I was so infuriated about the correspondence gone wrong. My Mars (anger) conjunct Mercury (communication) is very close to his Moon (emotions/instincts/home), and that was really his main beef with me: I was just too damned angry all the time. OGG contacted me twice more, most recently two weeks ago (by which time I finally knew better than to respond), but I have to wait till New Year's Eve before the fifth and final opposition. (No pressure there!) Note the number: not one, not three, but five passes for an extended wake-up call from the front desk. I only hope I've really, truly learned my lesson this time as they pertain to relationships. And for the first time in my life, I am not looking to jump back into one.
Next up we have transiting Pluto in Capricorn opposing my natal Mercury in Cancer from the 5th-house cusp to the 11th, which also began in the spring of '22. In fact, both oppositions were exact when I first heard from OGG. I believe that it was this opposition that saved me from forgiving OGG too soon, because Pluto is the planet of investigation, and That Little Voice Inside My Head told me to excavate my diary. It really, really hurt, but it was better this way, because my 15-year-old self saved my 51-year-old self. Just like the Neptune-Pluto opposition, this one also had to happen five times (final pass exact tomorrow). The fourth pass, exact this past August, was when I realized I had to break up with my Pisces; I'd done it before (with Pluto coming up on an opposition to my Sun) and had hoped with all my heart that it wouldn't happen again, but I felt like I was dying (Pluto opposing my Mars hadn't helped matters). The fifth and final opposition finds me single again in a place I fought like hell to get back to, with my head about to explode from the stress of being utterly lost in my new part-time job; I need to pick up nitpicky formatting skills ASAP so I can relieve my overworked supervisor. I am also unable to set up my new apartment because I have too much stuff for a studio, not enough money to put stuff in storage, and suck at assembling semi-disposable shelving units. If only I'd Marie Kondo'd most of my things (not counting books; sorry, but I have to draw the line somewhere). I haven't had the energy to go on Nextdoor or Facebook Marketplace or see if Goodwill or Salvation Army can pick up stuff. What else? Feeling closer to my Scorpio sister (Mercury) but estranged from some other friends (11th house). Deep thinking, even to the point of obsession. Heightened sensitivity to power-tripping while tripping over my own shadow.
The third opposition involves transiting Saturn in Pisces opposing my natal Venus in Virgo. Same signs as the first opposition, but this time from the 12th house to the 6th, and this time I "only" get it the standard three passes instead of five. Still, it's been enough to manifest in health issues (not just my own, but my precious cats) and Venus troubles in both love and money. I was unexpectedly laid off from my full-time salaried position this spring, less than a month after the first pass. I miraculously managed to secure an apartment this fall, shortly before the retrograde second pass, but now, on the third pass (also exact tomorrow), I am officially losing money and do not feel at all optimistic over getting back my security deposit on the apartment my ex and I shared, even though my ex, who has just moved to greener pastures, has enlisted the assistance of the city council. I am back where I want to be, but I am literally paying a very high price for it. How, you may well be asking, could I possibly be taking such a gamble on myself given this particular sobering opposition?
Because transiting Uranus, the planet of reform and revolution, is also conjuncting my stodgy-pants banker-wannabe Saturn in the money sign of Taurus, that's how. All bets are off. And since it involves the cusp of my 9th house, at least I can still write. The second pass is exact tomorrow, and the third pass happens next March. Since this foundation-shaking conjunction sextiles my Sun as well, I have to have faith (the opposite of Saturn) that this revolutionary-for-me gamble will pay off in 9th-house areas such as publishing, education, and travel. Wouldn't that be nice?
It's been such a long time since I've posted on this blog I have no idea if I even have any readers left, but I do hope that someone searching for the meaning of any or all of the above transits will find this and know they're in good company.
Monday, March 20, 2023
The Beginning of the End ... or the End of the Beginning?
Quite a Kid, T. C. Gardstein, 2003
So long an absence, so many planetary changes, so little time.
We are teetering on the edge of Pluto in Capricorn, assuming the crash position for Pluto ingressing into Aquarius this Thursday for the first time since 1798. We are still getting our sealegs with the newborn Aries season and Saturn in Pisces (as of 3/7; Saturn spends 2.5 years in a sign). The New Moon at 0'50" Aries Tuesday at 1:23 p.m. EDT is especially important as it's a critical degree, and most likely will launch us in the Northern Hemisphere into spring with a bang.
Plus, the U.S. has only been on Daylight Saving Time for a week. So we have literally just jumped ahead by an hour as well as being on the verge of a major Plutonian shift, a cosmic quantum leap on a par with the monolith of 2001. The rumblings of this new era have already been afoot in the form of a new generation of chatbots, but we ain't seen nothing yet.
Pluto is not going gentle into that badass Capricorn, to be sure. It's been one institutional crisis after another; not surprisingly, institutions and the status quo are associated with this Cardinal Earth sign. We came into this era with the financial collapse of 2008, during which we bailed out the banks that were "too big to fail," and just two years later the Citizens United case gave the green light to unfettered corporate interests in politics. Corporations essentially were recognized as people with the right to free speech and unlimited donations, though people still could not fight City Hall.
The Uranus-Pluto square of 2012-15 terrified astrologers, as it was the chief aspect of the Great Depression 84 years earlier (and the out-of-context "end of the world" prophesized in the Mayan calendar) -- but it was the deranged Saturn-Neptune square of 2016 that proved more dangerous, with the rise of Trump.
The Saturn-Pluto conjunction of 2020 was the signature of the Covid pandemic. Our home planet Earth itself is ill, as the climate emergency ramps up floods, draughts, extreme heat, extreme cold, and extreme storms. The U.S. Pluto Return of 2022 was marked by an increase of mass shootings at home and a war on women, although Neptune in Pisces continued to soften the long-standing War on Drugs. And once again, failing banks are scandalous, pearl-clutching news.
I am hoping that Pluto in Aquarius brings the kind of monolith that will advance technology in such a way that we can actually save the planet even if we are toast as a species. What concerns me at the moment is that Pluto backs up into Capricorn two more times before it moves into revolutionary, electrified Aquarius for good (well, for the next 20 or so years, anyway). In other words, Pluto will be at the tail end of Capricorn during the election of 2024.
Yikes.
Wednesday, June 30, 2021
Saturn Square Uranus, 2021: A Collapsing Bridge over Troubled Water
(This article will appear in slightly different form in the summer issue of The Ingress, NCGR-NYC's quarterly astrology journal; I wanted to update it here.)
Attempting to write about the Saturn-Uranus square of 2021 is as complicated as living through it. I have never been one to sugarcoat challenging planetary aspects, whether they are natal, progressed, or transits. Still, this transit is a hard nut to crack and a bitter pill to swallow.
Traditional astrology maintains that more can be accomplished during tough aspects than flowing ones. Many of us in the United States are currently in a much better place than we were a year ago, with the rollout of highly effective, accessible, free vaccines for all individuals over the age of 12 that are saving those of us who are fully vaccinated from the rise of worrisome Covid-19 variants (at least for now). 54% of the total US population has now received at least one dose of a vaccine, with 46% fully vaccinated. With the Centers for Disease Control’s mid-May blessing, as well as the long-awaited reopening of New York City and the state of California, many Americans are acting as if the pandemic is in our rearview mirror. Traffic jams have nearly returned to pre-pandemic levels, office workers (some enthusiastic, others less so) have begun to return to the office at least part of the time, and more people are traveling by plane. And yet…
…the World Health Organization is now advising even fully vaccinated individuals to continue wearing masks indoors due to the rise of Delta, an official "variant of concern." A recent headline in BuzzFeed News reports that due to politically driven low rates of vaccination in the Deep South and rural areas across the US, ”The Delta Variant Could Create ‘Two Americas’ of COVID, Experts Warn” (Peter Aldhous, buzzfeednews.com, 6/17/21). Thus, as much of the nation is looking forward to a CDC-sanctioned unmasked-if-vaxxed summer of reunions, parties, museum visits, travel, and overall exuberance, this news item is a nagging reminder that Covid-19 is not yet in our collective rearview mirror. Indeed, this pandemic is not yet finished in much of the world—not because too many people are refusing offers of free beer, free joints, free doughnuts, and other free rides with Covid-19 shots for various reasons, but because vaccines are either not available at all or are not as effective as the ones we have here in the US.
And not all of us here are trashing our masks or double-booking our social calendars to make up for lost time. Some of us are grieving over major personal losses in a culture that stresses moving on by getting busy. Even some of the luckier ducks among us feel confused, worried, doubtful, and/or mistrustful. Not all of us wish to get back to a normal that entailed excessive noise, endless social obligations that necessitated a lot of unnecessary expenditures, and rampant rat-racing. Not all of us believe that our democracy is safe, that we won’t see another pandemic in our lifetimes, and that (even with record low temperatures followed just a week later by highs in the Greater New York area, and the West Coast facing severe heat and draught even before the Summer Solstice), the climate crisis is a hoax.
The beginning of the pandemic seemed to encourage a dawning awareness in the rugged-individual-oriented US that we were all in this together; all connected. Yet almost immediately, that insight had to compete for airtime with the Time to Get Back to Normal Show, the I Won’t Wear a Mask or Social Distance Show, and the Politicization of the Pandemic Show. Astrologically, this could be explained (astrosplained?) by the fact that the Saturn-Uranus square did not occur in 2020, as Saturn turned retrograde almost as soon as it entered Aquarius. Consequently, there was a turning away from truly dealing with the pandemic and everything related to this public health crisis (i.e., everything). For many (though by no means all) Americans, the election also brought a sense of relief that our nation managed to avoid the worst-case scenario.
We do not have the luxury of turning away this year, and hell hath no fury like a square scorned. The first Saturn-Uranus square of 2021 occurred on February 17, when Mars was conjunct Uranus in Taurus. (Interestingly, the insurrection of January 6 occurred with Mars at the last degree of Aries; the Capitol was secured when Mars entered Taurus.) As Mars is an inner planet, and debilitated in Taurus, for many of us, there was a series of highly personal challenges involving financial health as well as physical health (both related to earth signs). Another manifestation of the square in mid-February: three severe winter storms (Uranus) in North America comprising cyclones, blizzards, ice storm, and tornadoes. This storm system was the deadliest, costliest storm system in North America’s recorded history; Texas’s power grid (Uranus) got hammered, resulting in the worst blackout since the one in the Northeast in the summer of 2003. The pandemic had begun waning in the US as the oldest and/or most vulnerable citizens became eligible for vaccination (even if too many of them had to stand outside for hours in the bitter cold to get inoculated), yet the biggest public health crisis in more than a century surged in many other countries, which gave birth to some worrisome variants of the virus.
We are now two weeks past the second Saturn-Uranus square of June 14. The spring was marked by several standoffs between Saturn (the set-in-stone status quo) and Uranus (the explosive revolutionary). The Israel-Gaza violence culminated on the exact second square with a coalition ousting Israel’s prime minister Netanyahu. There was a flurry of voter suppression bills and the return of mass shootings in the US. Liz Cheney got the boot from fellow Republicans for daring to repudiate former president Trump. As of this writing, calls for official commissions on January 6 and the pandemic are going unheeded. New York State legalized weed. India surpassed US Covid-19 cases and deaths. Some vaccines were paused; the rate of vaccinations in the US peaked in mid-April and have been declining since then. Seemingly out of left field, the CDC announced that only unvaccinated individuals need to continue wearing masks in most places. The US Supreme Court is preparing to overturn Roe vs. Wade. A container ship got stranded in the Suez Canal. The Mexican metro collapsed due to structural failure, causing 26 deaths and 79 hospitalizations. The Colonial Pipeline hack disrupted gasoline supplies in the southeastern states. The G7 Summit revealed more “cracks” than unity, with Cold War overtones concerning relations with Russia and China. Biden met with Putin. Someone who refused to wear a mask in a store in Georgia returned to shoot and kill the clerk who’d had the gall to ask him to mask up. The stalled infrastructure bill. And, on the day of the first Full Moon of summer (i.e., with the Moon in Saturn-ruled Capricorn), a condo complex near Miami collapsed due to a critical structural failure that a consultant had warned the building managers about in 2018. Repairs were finally about to begin nearly three years after the report, but instead, a lot of people (and their pets) are now presumed dead in this preventable disaster.
The very definition of infrastructure (Saturn) is controversial (Uranus). The concept (and actuality) of infrastructure is clearly ruled by Saturn, the planet synonymous with organization, framework, architecture, skeleton, configuration, edifice, shell, government, and (of course) structure. Yet with the square from reform-oriented, tech-savvy Uranus, infrastructure no longer solely refers to roads, bridges, water and sewer systems, power grids, and mass transportation, but cybersecurity, telecommunications, AI, even health care and child care. Present-day electronics and electricity are inextricably linked to computer science and computer engineering. Basically, if it’s a system that has anything to do with how well or poorly a country functions, whether it’s tangible or not, it’s now considered to be infrastructure. And with the square, it has become painfully clear in the US (along with other countries with morally bankrupt leaders and/or unfettered capitalism) that governments, corporations, civil society groups, and individuals who are not superrich are vulnerable to cyberattacks and one-strike-and-you’re-out losses due to crumbling infrastructure, which could include a shredded safety net.
The last time we experienced a Saturn-Uranus square was in 2000, with the signs flipped: Saturn was in Taurus and Uranus was in its ruling sign Aquarius. Particularly in the US, the gap between the haves and the have-nots began widening into a canyon at that time. Unfettered capitalism, tax breaks, and the stock market have mainly benefited the 1% since 2000. Nearly all politicians are in the back pockets of corporations (Saturn). 9/11 occurred, resulting in certain personal liberties being dismantled in the name of security (an earth-element desire). Even as the internet, virtual reality, and AI gained traction with Uranus in Aquarius, the tech bubble burst in 2000, and true communication between disparate groups (Saturn and Uranus) got bogged down in the stubborn “my way or the highway” modus operandi that is the dark side of Taurus.
This time around, since Uranus has moved from the sign of its rulership to the sign of its fall, the effects of the Saturn-Uranus square are harsher and involve not just a pandemic and economic misery for millions of people, but the climate-change emergency that is mainly kindling young activists (some still in their teens) who will be most affected by the coming devastation unless something is accomplished within the next decade or two to mitigate it.
In the spring of 2020, millions of individuals lost their jobs due to the pandemic, resulting in a global recession. At that time, Saturn backed off from the exact square to Uranus, but it is the signature aspect of 2021. The third and final exact square occurs on December 24 (will it be a lump of coal or a Green Deal for Christmas?), yet its effects will not diminish until the fall of 2022 because Saturn and Uranus will remain within orb of the square until then. Could 2022 wind up being 2021 Lite? Perhaps, but for individuals who are being crushed now, the gradual easing up may not make enough of a difference.
Crashes, clashes and hangovers are part and parcel of any Saturn-Uranus square. We should all know by now that true healing cannot occur by applying Band-Aids to deep wounds, “thoughts and prayers” lip service to the latest preventable atrocity. If adequate disaster relief is not given, the disaster will only be prolonged. Unless Covid-19 is tamed worldwide, this pandemic will still be a force to be reckoned with. Can we possibly take the best part of fixed signs—persistence and endurance—to find common ground and call it a draw, so that no matter what our individual circumstances or views may be, we can all emerge from the Saturn-Uranus square in a more unified place, if not in one piece or truly at peace?
No Rest on This Pisces Moon
Gotta wash this nightmare outta my hair:
The world in flames, our planet's last dawn
People gather as witnesses to silently bear
Bloodred ember-studded sky looks so wrong
We can only take baby sips of air
Mars opposing Saturn, civilization gone
Malefics playing Truth or Dare
Our house is on fire, keens humanity's swansong
If other species could speak, they'd say it's not fair
Life can no longer soldier on
And it's too late for us to productively care
Sunday, June 13, 2021
Phosphorescent Sea: Imprinted on William Steig
(In the Better Late Than Never category, here is an article I wrote three months ago that was published in the NCGR-NYC's spring 2021 "Astrology and Literature" issue of The Ingress. Hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!)
When I dove head- and heart-first into the sea of astrology many moons ago, I was a college student majoring in English with a concentration in creative writing. I had very little in the way of elegant defense when individuals who had previously respected my intelligence called it into question upon learning that I was a budding astrologer. Sometimes I proselytized, attempting to explain the tenet “as above, so below”; other times I asked to interpret their charts to demonstrate that astrology was far more than a vague Sun-sign horoscope (no takers there); and if I was in a foul mood, I reminded them of their own non-scholarly pursuits.
In a forum like The Ingress, of course, I need no such defense, yet the Astrology and Literature theme of this issue made me realize that I had fallen in love with the former in much the same way as I had with the latter—that there was indeed a common thread. Both astrology and literature deal in timeless symbols; in archetypes; in universal truths and a finite number of themes that find new, highly personalized life and meaning with each interpretation or narrative. Although astrology has a scientific, mathematical component (as the planets in our solar system exist and form various geometric angles to one another), it is not strictly quantitative—just as literature can be analyzed in many ways or experienced on a sheerly intuitive, visceral level. Both astrology and literature are kin to mythmaking, a collective need to find meaning and order in seemingly random chaos. Both explore various facets that illuminate what it means to be human; what it means to be alive.
Of all the planets, the Sun, ruler of the “superstar” sign Leo, has the most to do with conscious “I am”-ness and with the urge to shine and to create. The Sun longs for immortality, which manifests most obviously and literally by creating children (traditionally associated with the 5th House, which is ruled by the Sun) but also in masterpieces, for those who choose to define themselves as artists of some sort. Thus, while it is important to consider the placement and aspects of an author’s Mercury (communication), the Moon (emotion), Neptune (imagination), and the ruler of the Ascendant (if exact birth time is known), the situation of an author’s Sun sign must come first and foremost.
From early childhood up to the present day I have been a devoted re-reader, thanks to a heavily aspected natal Sun-Mars-Mercury stellium in Cancer (the “comfort food” sign that, like its opposite sign, Capricorn, is linked to the past). I cannot say if this deep-rooted desire to go back time after time to books and stories that spoke strongly to me is why I started writing and dreaming of becoming a published author and artist as a six-year-old, but learning entire passages of favorite books by heart certainly showed me how it was done, even if I could not articulate the mechanics until I landed in undergraduate creative writing seminars. The first literary god of my personal pantheon was William Steig, best known as a prolific cartoonist for The New Yorker and author of Shrek (which led to several movies only loosely based on the book, as well as a Broadway musical). To me, he was the creator of several books for children that, despite having won prestigious awards back in the 1970s, probably would not be published today due to their combination of unflinching intensity and sophisticated language. To me, they are typewritten treasures that both shaped and validated my worldview.
William Steig was a Scorpio with a Sun-Mercury conjunction trine his Moon-Saturn conjunction in Pisces (pulling in my own Cancer Sun and Scorpio Moon). Because Steig’s time of birth is unknown and I wished to rectify his natal chart for this article, I researched his personal life and studied some photographs of him (one of which revealed to my immense pleasure that he was a fellow left-hander). Throughout his life, Steig retained a full head of thick hair and customarily posed for photos with his arms crossed over his chest in a manner more self-protective than swaggering. His Polish Jewish immigrant parents encouraged him and his brothers to become artists instead of laborers (who would be exploited by businessmen) or businessmen (who would exploit laborers). In high school he was an All-American water-polo athlete, graduated early, then dropped out of three colleges. Although he wanted to run off to sea to become a beachcomber, the Great Depression intervened: he instead became the family breadwinner when his father, a housepainter, could not find work. As an artist, he achieved early and sustained financial and critical success. He had three children from four marriages and was obsessed with the psychoanalyst Wilhelm Reich’s controversial orgone box (immortalized in the film Sleeper as the Orgasmatron). At age 95, he died of natural causes shortly after publishing his last picture book, When Everyone Wore a Hat, based on his childhood. With all of this information, this is what I came up with: November 14, 1907, 7:42pm EST, Brooklyn NY.
William Steig once said, as would befit someone with a prominent 5th House, “I think I feel a little differently than other people do. For some reason I’ve never felt grown up.”(1) Yet it was not until Steig entered his sixties that he began writing and illustrating children’s books. His watercolor-and-ink illustrations recall two other Scorpio artists: the bluntness of Picasso and the delicacy of Monet (who happens to share a birthday with Steig). Amos & Boris, the first of Steig’s books that I can recall, was read to me both in nursery school and at home. On its surface, this tale of a seafaring mouse named Amos and a whale named Boris is a recasting of The Lion and the Mouse; I dove beneath the Scorpionic waves and reveled in gorgeous, sophisticated prose that unflinchingly confronts life’s primal joys and fears. Amos, who lives on a beach, has built a boat and set sail:
One night, in a phosphorescent sea, he marveled at the sight of some whales spouting luminous water; and later, lying on the deck of his boat gazing at the immense, starry sky, the tiny mouse Amos, a little speck of a living thing in the vast living universe, felt thoroughly akin to it all. Overwhelmed by the beauty and mystery of everything, he rolled over and over and right off the deck of his boat and into the sea.(2)
Before he is rescued by Boris, Amos, whose boat has sailed on without him, treads water for several hours in this life-or-death predicament, wondering “what it would be like to drown. Would it take very long? Would it feel just awful? Would his soul go to heaven? Would there be other mice there?”(3)
Other Steig tales also feature protagonists of various species who face the probability of untimely death: Pearl, the young pig in The Amazing Bone, is kidnapped by a fox who intends to eat her for dinner. “I’m only just beginning to live,” Pearl confides to the magic bone she found shortly before her abduction. “I don’t want it to end.”(4) The bone urges her to be brave:
She was dragged into the kitchen, where she could see flames in the open stove.
“I regret having to do this to you,” sighed the fox. “It’s nothing personal.”(5)
In Brave Irene, which was published when I was about a decade past the intended demographic, a young girl who is determined to deliver a gown sewn by her ill mother to the duchess in time for the ball is caught in a blizzard and pushed by the wind into a snowbank: “Even if she could call for help, no one would hear her. Her body shook. Her teeth chattered. Why not freeze to death, she thought, and let all these troubles end. Why not? She was already buried.”(6)
Although Scorpio as a sign is clearly linked to death—Pluto’s domain is the underworld—it is also associated with bravery (notably, its coruler is Mars) and the desire to intimately, compassionately connect with another soul. The deep friendships formed in Steig’s books—between Amos and Boris; between Pearl and the bone who saves her by suddenly remembering how to put a spell on the fox; and, in Steig’s wonderful chapter book Dominic (the first novel I read to myself repeatedly after having it read aloud to me as a five-year-old), between Dominic the wandering Good Samaritan dog and Bartholomew the centenarian pig—are the rewards for facing life and death with a brave heart and questing spirit.
Interestingly, in Sylvester and the Magic Pebble, a young donkey, Sylvester, has no company after he finds a magic pebble and panics when he runs into a lion. Instead of wishing himself back home safe with his parents, he foolishly wishes to be turned into a rock. Before his inevitable rescue, Sylvester lies in a field for a whole year as the seasons literally pass over his rock form. Sylvester’s consciousness is still intact but beginning to fade due to much depression-induced sleep. While his parents mourn his disappearance, the local cops (portrayed as pigs, which later got the book banned!) cannot solve the perplexing case.(7) Quite an apropos expression of a Moon-Saturn conjunction in Pisces.
Scorpio’s brand of duality finds transcendence by going down into the depths. When that paradox occurs, rebirth follows—as when leaves and seeds go underground, and certain species hibernate in caves in mid-autumn (the Scorpio season in the Northern Hemisphere) so that they can be regenerated or refreshed in the spring. In Dominic, after his friend Bartholomew dies, Dominic slumbers “under the vast dome of quivering stars, and just as he was falling asleep, passing over into the phase of dreams, he felt he understood the secret of life. But in the light of morning, when he woke up, his understanding of the secret had disappeared with the stars. The mystery was still there, inspiring his wonder.”(8) In the morning, Dominic buries Bartholomew in the pig’s front yard: “He had to cry. Life was suddenly too sad. And yet it was beautiful. The beauty was dimmed when the sadness welled up. And the beauty would be there again when the sadness went. So the beauty and the sadness belonged together somehow, though they were not the same at all.”(9)
The above passages encapsulate the emotions of the water element so enchantingly, I keep returning to my tattered copy of Dominic. I do not even want to label Steig’s profoundly Scorpionic tales children’s literature. Like other books that can be experienced in myriad ways by readers (or listeners) of all ages and circumstances, they simply are literature.
End Notes
1. Literature for Kids: Author Study, https://karissaspitler.weebly.com
2. Steig, William. Amos & Boris. New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 1971.
3. Ibid.
4. Steig, William. The Amazing Bone. New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 1976.
5. Ibid.
6. Steig, William. Brave Irene. New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 1986.
7. Steig, William. Sylvester and the Magic Pebble. New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 1969.
8. Steig, William. Dominic. New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 1972.
9. Iid.
Wednesday, January 6, 2021
Mars in the Last Gasp of Aries
It's been a long six months of Mars in Aries, hasn't it? It's not going quietly into that goodnight, what with rabid, Far Beyond Right and Gone Wrong Trumpeters storming the Capitol, inflamed by the almost-gone president's stolen-election speech. These wack-jobs interrupted the last bit of officialdom needed to declare Joe Biden the winner. Shots. Gas masks. National Guard. Civil War II, anyone? I predicted it over 20 years ago in my defunct astrology blog (sponsored by the defunct Webseed startup), and most readers thought I was crazy.
Maybe I am crazy anyway. Regardless, I can't see Mars's transit of Taurus being anything but difficult. I already wrote about the Mars-Saturn and Mars-Jupiter squares of January, as well as Mars conjunct Uranus: oppression, depression, illness, war, explosions. By the time Mars makes a beneficial trine to Pluto in Capricorn on 2/24, indicating a positive flow of regenerative energy of body, bank account, and the planet Earth itself, it may feel like too little, too late.
Mars (headstrong energy) going through Taurus (ruling the ears, nose, and throat) could very well mean that the new, more contagious strain of Covid-19 will rip through the populace as the vaccine rollout is bogged down. There may not be any half measures when it comes to lock downs.
The Senate runoffs in Georgia have provided some much-needed hope. That outcome could've been far worse. Still, I stand by my predictions made last month: at least in the US, we are in for a very cold, dark winter.
Saturday, December 19, 2020
On Not Being Able to View the Jupiter-Saturn Conjunction
At least I had legs to carry me down
Two flights of stairs and outside,
Most of the way to the waterfront.
I walked as far as the sidewalk was shoveled,
To the underpass where I could see the garish mural
Of psychedelicized flowers and read the trite affirmations
That still managed to be a comfort to this cynic.
At least I could see a crescent moon on its descent,
Wrapped in downy gathering clouds.
At least I could smell winter in the last dregs of fall,
In home fireplaces, in the kitchen
Of the local old-school Italian restaurant
Open for business, surviving the pandemic.
Tomorrow it will snow again;
Monday it will be overcast.
So most likely, I will miss viewing
This once-in-800-years event,
This Star of Bethlehem.
But I am not downcast—I have already had
My Christmas miracle:
I got out of the city with my sweetie,
Lock stock barrel, the whole kitten caboodle,
To a smaller city with more space
Both inside and out.
I do not pass a single soul on my walk
And feel blessed as I breathe in the cold, clean air,
Noting how some upended chunks of snow
Resemble tiny gravestones in the dusk
And feel graced when I slip on an icy patch
And recover my balance.
Monday, December 14, 2020
It's the Great Conjunction, Charlie Brown (and the Great Mutation, Too)
“How many years can a mountain exist
Before it is washed to the sea?
Yes,and how many years can some people exist
Before they’re allowed to be free?”
—Bob Dylan, “Blowin’ in the Wind”
“No snowflake in an avalanche ever feels responsible.”
—Stanislaw Jerzy Lec
Six very long months ago, I threw a predictive hat into the ring that the upcoming Jupiter-Saturn conjunction would usher in “positive new developments, since it is clear to me that Saturn at 0 degrees of Aquarius (where it was in late March and early April of this year, and where it is currently) is a crucial factor for this particular pandemic. Aquarius rules groups of people, revolution, science, and technology. With Jupiter joining Saturn there at the end of this year, perhaps humanity will step up to the plate.” (From my blog post of 6/27/20.)
Little did I know when I was waxing so uncharacteristically optimistic in my usually downbeat astrology blog that this was to be no ordinary Jupiter-Saturn conjunction—not that any of them are, as so-called Great Conjunctions only occur every 20 years and serve as markers for societal epochs—but a Great Mutation. It came as mind-blowing news for me to learn that Great Conjunctions do not fall in random signs every other decade, as I had assumed ever since I began practicing astrology; instead, Jupiter-Saturn conjunctions occur in a single element for 200 years before jumping to a different element for the next 200 years—although there is a preview of the Great Mutation in the penultimate conjunction of each 200-year cycle. (Indispensable source material for this article: https://www.astropro.com, “Astrologer Richard Nolle’s 3000-Year Jupiter-Saturn Conjunction Table," published 4/26/98.)
In other words, by the time you read this article, we will have just emerged from an earth-element Great Conjunction cycle that began on January 26, 1842. Let that sink in for a New York minute: on a societal level, this cycle has been almost entirely focused on the material world. Even the flower children of the 1960s who turned on, tuned in, and dropped out of the dog-eat-dog rat race for at least a few years, wanted to (as per Joni Mitchell’s song “Woodstock”) “get back to the land to set my soul free […] And we’ve got to get ourselves back to the garden.”
Our most recent glimpse of the air-element Great Conjunction cycle was the 1980–81 Jupiter-Saturn conjunction in Libra, which marked the next two decades with the rise of the personal computer, the internet, and dramatic shifts in the institutions of marriage, law, politics, and borders. There was the rise of Reagan on the one hand, the fall of the Berlin Wall on the other.
In 2000 the final earth-element Great Conjunction occurred, in Taurus. With the exception of the preview of 40 years ago, our last Great Conjunction in the air-element cycle occurred on January 16, 1405—and it happened in Aquarius.
I am writing this with Jupiter and Saturn still playing tug-of-time in Capricorn, so I am finding it difficult to evade the clutches of earth-sign logic, which is empirical, not theoretical; rooted in the five senses and the mundane world. Perhaps it is the Capricorn influence that is encouraging me to fixate on an identical pattern during the last elemental shift from earth to air: Libra (1186) to Taurus (1206) to Aquarius (1226) rather than ditch history and simply predict that the coming Great Mutation in Aquarius will send humanity to group therapy…. Yet even if history doesn’t repeat itself, it rhymes.
The countless generations of astrologers who lived before the outer planets were discovered would probably slap me upside the head for not being aware of this Great Conjunction pattern, but back in the long-ago day, Jupiter and Saturn really were the naked eye’s final frontiers of our solar system. Every 20 years, they appear in the night sky to merge into one extraordinarily bright star, which in the year 6 BC was conjunct in Pisces three times (May, October, and December) and christened the Star of Bethlehem or the Christmas Star, alerting the Three Wise Men (code for astrologers) to the birth of a great spiritual leader. Before the outer planets were discovered, Jupiter co-ruled Sagittarius and Pisces, while Saturn co-ruled Capricorn and Aquarius. These final four signs of the zodiac are associated with transpersonal matters; appropriately, the Jupiter-Saturn conjunction is also known as the Great Chronocrator, Markers of Time.
The Great Mutation at 0 degrees of Aquarius occurs on December 21, 2020, on the heels of the Winter Solstice, the shortest day of the year in the Northern Hemisphere, when the Sun enters the Saturn-ruled sign Capricorn. Saturn is clearly still a force to be reckoned with here, not ready to cede its dominance of 2020, and is putting its harsh taskmaster stamp on the “dark winter” that US president-elect Joe Biden has been warning us about concerning the pandemic. Although expansive, optimistic, gambling Jupiter will have an easier time transiting through Aquarius than in Capricorn (sign of its fall), it will still be dominated by Saturn, as the latter planet is still the co-ruler of Aquarius.
The chart for the Great Mutation in Washington DC points to a classic earth-air conflict, as the Ascendant at 0 degrees of Taurus (conjunct Joe Biden’s Moon at 1 degree of Taurus) exactly squares the Great Mutation, with wild-card Uranus in Taurus in the First House of identity, while the Sun-Mercury conjunction at 0–1 degrees of Capricorn trines the Ascendant. Consider, too, that the Sun on Inauguration Day conjuncts the Great Mutation, literally spotlighting its significance. I do not want to come off as Chicken Little here, but…the sky could very well be falling.
The seeds of Saturn in Aquarius were sown at the very beginning of last spring; this winter, they will bloom as social distancing (a manifestation of Saturn in Aquarius) moves into a new phase with new or enhanced forms of online or virtual technology (Aquarius) in an attempt to normalize on a collective scale what this time last year was unthinkable or unimaginable for most individuals. Social media will be more policed (Saturn) at the same time it expands (Jupiter); Zoom may roll out a Zany offshoot while Slack rolls out Slick. This past spring, I predicted that multiple breakthrough Covid-19 vaccines would be invented on the Jupiter-Saturn conjunction; at the time of this writing, approvals of various vaccines are already occurring in some countries, without necessarily finishing the standard protocol (Jupiter and Uranus going rogue on Saturn).
The most significant aspects of the winter of 2020–21, following the Great Mutation, are profoundly challenging: the Jupiter-Uranus square (1/17/21) and the first of several Saturn-Uranus squares (2/17/21), during the same period that Mars is conjunct Uranus in Taurus. As Mars is an inner planet, and debilitated in Taurus, there is no way for us to opt out of these challenging squares, and they will involve the same signs of the Jupiter-Uranus and Saturn-Uranus squares of 2000—just flipped. Rhyming history, anyone?
Think back to 2000, the final Great Conjunction in the earth element, specifically Taurus; reflect on the past 20 years of societal matters, and how they have all been tied into the sign of money and possessions. Particularly in the US, the gap between the haves and the have-nots has widened into a canyon. Unfettered capitalism, tax breaks, and the stock market have mainly benefited the 1%. Nearly all politicians are in the back pockets of corporations, which recently were determined to have the same rights as people (but not vice-versa). 9/11 occurred and has had the effect of dismantling certain personal liberties (e.g., Big Brotherish surveillance) in the name of security (an earth-element desire). Even as the internet, virtual reality, and AI gained traction with Uranus in Aquarius, the tech bubble burst in 2000 and true communication between disparate groups (Jupiter and Saturn) got bogged down in the bullheaded “my way or the highway” modus operandi that is the dark side of Taurus.
This time around, however, Uranus has moved from the sign of its rulership to the sign of its fall, which suggests that the effects of this square will be even harsher and involve not just public health and economic misery for millions of people, but the climate-change emergency that is mainly kindling young activists who will be most affected by the coming devastation if nothing is done very soon to mitigate it (as it may already be too late to stop the damage entirely).
During the spring of 2020, millions of individuals lost their jobs due to the pandemic, and a global recession ensued;
Saturn backed off from the exact square, but starting this winter, the square will be in full force. While the Jupiter-Uranus square willencourage conspiracy theories, cultlike groups, rampant fake news, and gambling with money and literal lives, the real crash will come on the exact Saturn-Uranus square. Incoming president Biden may say “Bye Don” as the Lame Donald Duck is removed from the White House with a butterfly net (or, depending on what he attempts during the Jupiter-Uranus square, in handcuffs). But unless the US Senate is flipped in the January runoff in Georgia or the Senate Majority Leader candy-flips, Americans may not be helped in any real way this winter as Covid-19 ravages the nation and vaccines are at the very earliest stages of being distributed. As of this writing, there are talks in the Senate of passing a compromised stimulus bill to help individuals and businesses; if there is no significant improvement, and individuals are being evicted and going hungry, even more people will take to the streets in protest of this utterly avoidable mess than the Black Lives Matter movement (though there will be overlap). And the protesting could easily turn violent.
The stubborn nature of this Great Mutation in Aquarius squaring Uranus in Taurus also indicates that another bubble will burst, with more potential violence: the information bubble, which has polarized our society and is yoked to money in the form of corporate interests and hucksters. Critical thinking has become a lost art, as has compassion and a sense of fair play. Every opinion is a fact; every fact is an opinion. Many of us, no matter how nice, educated, or “evolved” we are, have our own set-in-stone beliefs on just about everything, gleaned from such disparate sources that when op-ed columnists opine, newscasters speak, epidemiologists weigh in, the CDC flipflops, Facebook friends post, or twitterers tweet, they are all preaching in echo chambers to their very separate choirs. Very recently, I became aware of Parler, a far-right social media platform that formed in response to pushback from Facebook.
Federal mask mandates and strict three-month lockdowns may work in some countries, but not here, and particularly not during a 20-year cycle defined, as in the last 20-year cycle, by Jupiter and Saturn squaring Uranus in fixed know-it-all signs. Freedom has become such a loaded term, used by many people to define their right to not wear a mask to protect other people, that I nearly scrapped the Bob Dylan reference at the beginning of this article. As the poet William Butler Yeats put it so eloquently in “The Second Coming,” just following the First World War and the last pandemic:
Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.
Now that we are trying to tame the worst public health crisis since Yeats wrote that poem in 1919, the center must regain its footing if we are to make it as a species, or at least as Americans, to the next potential renaissance (as occurred in Italy midway through the last air-element Great Conjunction cycle). We need not to “get back to normal,” as recent normal was not working out so well for many of us, but to be inspired by a long-ago era.
An era when the newborn Magna Carta was used as a springboard for common law outside of England. An era when the populace (symbolized by Aquarius) hungered and fought for human rights (Aquarius again) that would benefit as many people of all races, religions, and walks of life as possible instead of sinking into tribalism, cynicism, nihilism, and authoritarian populism (which has enabled fascism, holocausts, ethnic cleansing—and most recently, a mentally ill psychopathic grifter to become the President of the United States). An era when ideas and communication (domains of the air element) were valued at least as much as things and ownership (ruled by earth).
Tribunals and revolutions may be unavoidable during this elemental societal change. But if enough humane humans unite, we can get the true Age of Aquarius rolling…with the great transformer Pluto transiting through Aquarius, to boot. This winter, let us mask up, take a deep breath, and begin a 200-year-long journey.
Thursday, November 12, 2020
Jupiter Conjunct Pluto, Round Three: The Return of the Coronavirus That Never Left
Jupiter and Pluto swimming in a sea of Covid-19; collage created by T. C.
Gardstein in April 2020
The Jupiter-Pluto conjunction of 2020 has been one of those aspects that neatly dovetail with science: as I wrote back at the end of June, with number 2 of 3 such meetings between Jupiter and Pluto about to recur, this aspect has coincided with surges of Covid-19. Now, as we gaze down the barrel of the third and final conjunction, exact today (11/12) at 4:39 p.m. EST, the pandemic is spiraling out of control in many countries (with a few notable exceptions, such as the Far East and Australia, which instituted strict lockdowns). Even New York City, which had succeeded in tamping down positive cases to about 1 percent this past summer after a terrible spring during which tens of thousands of New Yorkers died, is moving in the wrong direction -- as is the rest of the state.
Unlike the first two Jupiter-Pluto conjunctions, we have a glimmer of hope in the form of a supposedly highly effective vaccine being developed by a pharmaceutical house that has refused to take any Operation Warp Speed money from the White House's current administration. I predicted earlier this year that mid- to late December would bring a welcome Christmas present (even if, like me, you do not celebrate this holiday) in the form of a scientific breakthrough, a testament to humans' humanity. It would be wonderful if a vaccine that is safe and reliable turns out to be this gift. However, as reputable news sources have already cautioned, one or more such vaccines will not end this pandemic immediately; there will be issues concerning manufacture, distribution, and a willingness of most people to take the vaccine, and in the Nothern Hemisphere, there will be a long winter of "pandemic fatigue" to get through first.
Interestingly, on the second Jupiter-Pluto conjunction, Mars entered its ruling sign Aries, which turned retrograde near the end of the sign on September 9. Traditionally, the period of Mars retrograde indicates that bullies will prevail. Mars finally stations direct on Friday the 13th, so hopefully this will put the kibosh on any coup that the current US (p)resident may be planning via some high-up Republicans finally growing a backbone and refusing to enable the Toddler in Chief any further. If this does not occur, Mars direct in Aries may well spark a new wave of protests.
Remember that Jupiter expands the nature of whatever planet it contacts as well as the sign it inhabits. Jupiter is said to be in its fall (i.e., significantly debilitated) in Capricorn, where it has been since late 2019, and Pluto in Capricorn could also be referred to as Big Brother, combining the Saturnian harsh taskmaster with the underhanded, manipulative Plutonian cruelty aimed at the collective. The Jupiter-Pluto conjunction has indeed brought mass suffering, but the maddening thing about it was that it didn't have to be so devastating. The pandemic could've and should've been brought to heel in January or February, but a perfect storm of the worst manifestations of Capricorn -- corrupt, heartless governments and leaders; the politicization of science; having "the economy," corporations, and the stock market matter more than people's lives; cruel racism; extreme nihilism and cynicism stemming from just as extreme mistrust of abusive institutions -- wound up raining illness, death, stress, depression, and destruction down on millions of people.
Even after Jupiter pulls past Pluto for good (or, more accurately, for the next 13 years) we will be feeling the effects of this conjunction very intensely for at least another week or so, as the Sun in Scorpio will sextile Jupiter and Pluto on Saturday 11/14 and the Moon in Capricorn will conjunct Jupiter and Pluto on Thursday 11/19. The sextile should bring an opportunity to work harmoniously with this odd, potentially destructive energy, while the Capricorn Moon will attempt to suppress the emotions, but any denial or stuffing down of feelings will ultimately fail. Confronting the Jupiter-Pluto conjunction is not for the faint of heart, but it must be done if there is any hope for getting through it.
If you are having a Solar Return or an anniversary today, which just so happens to be the day of the week ruled by Jupiter, the Jupiter-Pluto conjunction will certainly have a lot to say about your upcoming year as an individual or as part of a relationship. This uncompromising aspect urges you not to randomly gamble (as Jupiter frequently does to test Lady Luck) but to take extreme actions to learn, teach, travel, have out-of-body experiences, expand your roots, deep-dive into earth energies, and ultimately transform.
Tuesday, November 3, 2020
Election Predictions: Mercury Stationing Direct on a Jupiter-Pluto Conjunction...Will the Third Time Be the Charm, or the Perfect Storm?
With Mercury stationing direct on US Election Day, it is very unlikely that the results will be determined tonight or even tomorrow, particularly since Mercury will soon square transiting Saturn in Capricorn (indicating delays) and US Pluto in Capricorn (indicating all kinds of frightening, underhanded, violent, criminally oriented possibilites). Mercury is in Libra, the sign of the Scales (the symbol of justice), so it's also very likely that the Supreme Court will be involved.
Mars, the planet of war, aggression, and desire, is still retrograde in its ruling sign Aries until 11/13, the day after the final of three
Jupiter-Pluto conjunctions in Capricorn, so until then there is also a sense of pushing hard without quite breaking through. As I wrote earlier this year, I believe the signature of Covid-19 is the Jupiter-Pluto conjunction in Capricorn; each time this aspect that expands/magnifies (Jupiter) pestilence and death (Pluto) nears the exact conjunction (April 4, June 30, November 12), there has has been a corresponding wave or surge of this pandemic. This holds especially true for the United States, since Jupiter will also pass over US Pluto, though Europe is currently facing a second wave. The key difference, of course, is that the US government, steered by the Republican majority in the Senate, cut off aid to individuals and small businesses months ago; economic hardship (also symbolized by Jupiter in the sign of its fall) foisted on those who need the most help has effectively set up a lose-lose situation. Many claim that the cure (lockdowns and less extreme restrictions) is worse than the disease, yet the two undeniably depend on each other. The politicization of public health has been an unfortunate side effect of this heavily Capricorn year, though Saturn's three-month stay in Aquarius (from late March till early July) manifested in the highly unpopular social (Aquarius) distancing (Saturn).
Although I believe that Biden will prevail in the end, due to his own natal chart lining up better than Trump's with the US's natal chart this year, over the next four years, with the United States coming up on its Pluto Return, revolution is inevitable, both from without and within. The United States must either regenerate and transform (Pluto actions) or die under a fascist plutocracy. Trump may wind up in jail, but the fact that almost half of the US voters continue to believe in his vision, as well as the rise in Far Right groups such as QAnon, is highly concerning. Over twenty years ago, I predicted that the US would have another civil war, despite the messy geographical boundaries. Now it seems more than ever that the US is headed for a messy divorce.
It remains to be seen if the US will wind up on the right side of history by the time the biggest global crisis since the Great Depression and World War II has ended with either a bang or a whimper.
Saturday, June 27, 2020
Jupiter Conjunct Pluto, Round Two: The Return of the Coronavirus That Never Left
Jupiter and Pluto posing in a sea of Covid-19
Collage by T. C. Gardstein
As I predicted in a post from this spring, Mars transiting Pisces unleashed a whole lot of trouble concerning action (Mars), the emotions (Pisces), and public health (the domain of the opposite sign of Virgo). Around the time that Mars entered the final sign of the zodiac in mid-May, many countries and states within the US began opening up, in many cases not meeting the US government's own guidelines. Unemployment (represented by Pisces, since the opposite sign of Virgo represents employment) continued to climb (a key factor in the premature reopening of the US). The death of George Floyd on Memorial Day brought a few weeks' worth of emotional yet largely peaceful social justice (Pisces, the sign where Jupiter is exalted) protests all over the world, peaking in early June, when Mars formed a difficult square to Venus retrograde in Gemini (itself a placement that would seem to encourage backing away from social distancing). After a spate of looting and problems with the police, NYC was placed under curfew for about a week for the first time ever, just prior to its first phase of officially emerging from the lock down. This city is now midway through the much-vaunted Phase 2, when it is possible to dine at restaurants with outdoor seating, get elective medical procedures, get your teeth cleaned, go back to the office (though many companies are moving slowly on that), and either mask up or not, depending on how and where you roll (in my neighborhood, not so much).
From my perspective as an astrologer in New York City, mid-May through June was (and still is) a perfect storm for what many are calling the second wave of Covid-19 (epidemiologists beg to differ, as the virus has not receded enough to end the first wave, but it's clear that many people have stopped listening to scientists). The storm broke shortly after Mercury turned retrograde in Cancer (6/18), with the Solar Eclipse on the heels of the 6/21 Summer Solstice (which was the Winter Solstice for the Southern Hemisphere). It is inevitable that Mercury retrograde must backpedal, creating delays and second thoughts; countries that had apparently gotten the virus under control, including Australia and Germany, were dealing with new outbreaks, while many cities of the US that had escaped the initial onslaught in March and April, such as Houston, Miami, and Los Angeles, were at risk of becoming the next New York City. As of yesterday, recently reopened bars (represented by Pisces), acknowledged to encourage the spread of the virus among relatively young, healthy people who would then infect others, closed down again in the new hot spots.
Considering that the first Jupiter-Pluto conjunction occurred on April 4, right around the peak of the horror show in NYC, it does not take an astrological genius to see that the second Jupiter-Pluto conjunction, exact on June 30, is bringing more of the same to other cities. The US is in particular trouble, however. On July 1, as borders reopen in the European Union with Saturn about to retrograde back into Capricorn, it is almost certain that the EU will put the US on its no-fly list. Just a few days later, on July 4, the US has its Solar Return, which features a Lunar Eclipse and an approaching square between Mercury retrograde in Cancer and Mars in its ruling sign of Aries (a classic aspect of arguments that can turn violent).
I will write in more detail about the US's 244nd birthday, but with transiting Saturn in the Solar Return retrograding back over the US natal Pluto this summer, it is conceivable that there will be localized (if not nationwide) lock downs and walk-backs, as well more restrictions and separations from first world countries that view the US with a mixture of pity, concern, frustration, and revulsion. Fortunately, Saturn will turn direct before it forms another conjunction with transiting Pluto (as we had on January 12 of this year -- the day that the genome of Covid-19 was made public), but we will experience a third Jupiter-Pluto conjunction in mid-November, which would seem to indicate a second wave as well as turmoil in the US concerning the presidential election.
In case reading this post is tempting you to stick your head in a toaster oven, I am still optimistic that the Jupiter-Saturn conjunction at 0 degrees of Aquarius in mid-December will bring positive new developments, since it is clear to me that Saturn at 0 degrees of Aquarius (where it was in late March and early April of this year, and where it is currently) is a crucial factor for this particular pandemic. Aquarius rules groups of people, revolution, science, and technology. With Jupiter joining Saturn there at the end of this year, perhaps humanity will step up to the plate and evolve in a, well, humanitarian way instead of dying out or handing the keys over to robots whose AI tops our collective IQ.
Thursday, June 4, 2020
From Pandemic to Protests: Is Truth a Virus?

Thursday, May 21, 2020
Pluto-in-Virgo Generation: Transforming the Work Environment

Friday, May 15, 2020
She's Leaving Home, Bye-Bye (Remembering When)
Today is the 18th anniversary of the first time I left New York City for Another Place: an island that was an extinct volcano, a little-known dot in the Dutch West Indies. Most of my mail was forwarded to Holland.
I had nearly moved to Berlin to be with a not-so-old flame, then chickened out for a few reasons that still make sense to me nearly two decades later, and other reasons that do not. With Sagittarius at my IC, and its ruler, Jupiter, sextile the IC, I could have predicted that I would move far away. However, Pluto exactly square the IC from the Ascendant complicates things. I can run, but Pluto has always pulled me back.
I did not move away because of 9/11, which had happened eight months earlier. I moved to that specific place for all the wrong reasons. I did paint some nice watercolors that the local gallery accepted. (Big fish, little pond.) Two years later, I would joke to my new friends that it took moving out of the country to get me from Manhattan to Brooklyn, which was just beginning its long run as the epicenter of hipsterdom. I would joke about how it was probably the only island on the planet that lacked a beach. I would joke about the two Dutch families that basically owned the island and must have inbred for several generations to ensure their whiteness. Most of the so-called islanders fled for other, slightly more happening islands such as St. Kitts and St. Maarten. There was a second-rate medical school on the island for first-rate students from impoverished countries and third-rate Americans who could not gain admittance to a US medical school. The only fresh produce on the island were mangoes. I would fly to St. Maarten for a day, go to the French side for the beach and shops in Marigot, and pack my rolling suitcase with roast chickens, croissants, a baguette, cheese, and chocolate.
Fifteen years later, I left my fourth apartment in Brooklyn for a basement in New Jersey for all the right reasons. I thought I was going to land in Philadelphia. Two months later, I was back, having secured the ultimate brass ring: a salaried position that paid a living wage. I joked to my few remaining friends that it took leaving the state of New York for me to move from Brooklyn to Queens. Unfortunately, Pluto opposed my natal Sun five times between early 2018 and late 2019, so I paid a heavy price for my financial autonomy: a workplace so unbelievably dysfunctional it could have been the focus of a reality TV show.
There have been more years than not that I have forgotten this day in my personal history. This year, I guess I was destined to remember because I have been fantasizing once again about leaving New York, where I was born and where I finally grew up. It would not be because of COVID-19, but because I have not been able to truly enjoy the city since returning to it on my own terms in the fall of 2017. The city I truly miss was the city of 1998 to 2009. Far too much about me is different now to recapture that decade, and far too much about the city has changed, as well. That is the thing about New York: it keeps changing, both for better and worse. Now that spring is finally here, New Yorkers in my neighborhood are emerging from their apartments after nearly three months of mostly staying in: restless, some masked, as many not, some social distancing, as many not, counting down for the reopening to commence. I am restless, too, but not to go back to the way things were.
I realize there is very little in the way of astrology about this post. I guess I thought back in 2002 that with the Sun trining my Pluto and Ascendant that day, I would land on my feet once the prop plane landed on the shortest commercial runway in the world. Instead, I realized almost immediately (with the Sun inconjunct my Jupiter) what a mistake I had made. I never bothered to fully unpack. But then, that is true of every single place I have lived. Too much stuff (Cancer stellium), too little space (city apartments do not come with attics or basements), too much restlessness (Sagittarius IC).
Perhaps transiting Pluto trine my Pluto will help me find my true home. Pluto turned retrograde about 10' shy of the exact trine this spring, so I guess I will have to wait a while. In the meantime, I will try to be better about living in the moment, as strange as this time has been.
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