Mercury Square Mars = Mostly Bad News

Marauding Middle-Eastern molesters in Cologne on New Year's Eve; ginormous gaffe committed by that city's female mayor: womenfolk, dress modestly and keep an arm's length away from those valued immigrants! Anti-government asshats in Oregon. Retard Repugnicons deride President Obama's plan to implement background checks for anyone who wishes to purchase any type of firearm, from a ladylike pistol to a totally unnecessary AK-47, as a ploy to take guns away from law-abiding citizens. Donald Trumpeters appear in Bernie's backyard. Stock marketus interruptus, rinse and repeat.

But take solace, for not all the news during this first week of 2016 has been fit to shit: according to the December jobs report, the US has now reached full employment! Just ignore the fact that something like 3 out of 5 new jobs enable workers to rent a cardboard box and switch to a better brand of cat food (for themselves). But seriously, at least in some cities, city employees will now receive a minimum wage of $15/hr.

Oh, one other thing: under-45s in the US would apparently overwhelmingly prefer to Feel the Bern than to follow in the Puritans' dream of a City on a Hill(ary). I'd contest the New York Times columnist David Brooks's insistence on calling this a Millennial trend, since the oldest Millies are only turning 34 this year, but no one in the media has really noticed Gen X since 1996 or so, much less given this generation any credit for anything remotely positive, so whatever (or, as Kurt Cobain would say, nevermind).

We are now in the Dark of the Moon in Capricorn. This is a great day to hibernate. The New Moon in Capricorn occurs tomorrow at 8:30 p.m. EST. Depending on which house that New Moon falls in your own chart, plan on the next lunar cycle being a mixed bag of structured energy (Capricorn) and frustrating delays (Mercury is retrograde till Mon. 1/25). The Sun will catch up with that retrograde Mercury on 1/14, so it's likely your ego will feel very ambitious and override cautious deliberation.

Parting notes: Happy Birthday to rock legend Elvis "the King" Presley, who shares the same soulful combination of Sun in Capricorn and Moon in Pisces as Martin Luther King Jr. And Happy Birthday to David Bowie, who could be a poster boy for Neptune Rising (i.e., creative, glamorous, magical, elusive, what-you-see-is-not-what-you-get).

The Last in a Long Line of Uranus-Pluto Squares Is Here!

I have written about the Uranus-Pluto square so often for the past three years that I do not know if I have anything much to add for square number seven of seven, exact at 9:50 p.m. EDT. That it occurs during the dark of the moon heightens the feeling that a cycle, indeed an entire era, is drawing to a close. For those of you who have only recently begun reading my site, and for those of you who have been reading my astrobabble for much longer, here is a (hopefully poetic) recap:

ODE TO THE URANUS-PLUTO SQUARE

The same old song's been on since June 2012
It's as sharp as a nail piercing the sole of a shoe
With a soft foot inside
That has no place to hide
Unless you're too big to fail, you do
And Uranus and Pluto keep turning the screw
Brutalities widespread those with hearts can't abide
Corporations are people not on humanity's side
Most of the money's been flowing upstream
A nightmare has curdled the American Dream
The name Isis used to mean an Egyptian goddess
Now it brings to mind an unholy mess
This square has been a prolonged scream
In which many things are as bad as they seem
Yet attempt to recognize what you can bless
That can't be taken away by the IRS
When the dust settles and the smoke clears
We might see better than we have in years
Yet the square's reverb shall linger in our ears
And if we can grieve, there will be tears
Some did not survive the square
Some got through but lost their hair
Some said, "Do I look like I care?"
Some reclaimed their power, others did not dare.

A Not-So-Fond Fare-Thee-Well to February: Musings on Getting Personal in My Posts, Rembrandt, and Some Poetry if You Read Till the End (or Just Scroll Down)

T. S. Eliot wrote that "April is the cruellest month." Though the poet was on to something there, as two-thirds of that month is ruled by Mars (the god of war) -- and if you suffer from spring allergies to boot, as I do, it's nothing to sneeze at -- I believe the true Waste Land, especially this year, is February. Here is an unfunny joke: "Why is February so short?" "Because if it were any longer, nobody would make it to March."

I already complained about the Siberian Express in my last post, which received so few hits it made me wonder if I should keep weather talk out of my astrologizing. Which further made me ponder my entire philosophy of discussing on this site pretty much everything except what most astro-curious souls trawling the web are searching for: their horoscopes. Writing horoscopes is the one thing I pointedly refuse to do, because I think sun-sign astrology is the equivalent of knowing what country someone is from: it can be helpful in terms of understanding what language that someone speaks (though that actually has more to do with Mercury's placement than the Sun), but it only gives the tip of the iceberg, to use a cliche apropos for this brutally cold month.

So I wind up ranting about various components of my own natal chart and major-league transits (in the case of the born-in-2012, still-very-much-with-us Uranus-Pluto square, so frequently I feel like a recording) and how they seem to tie in to various political, economic, and social injustices. A few years ago, an irate reader put the smackdown on me for getting "too political" in my posts, which pissed me off, but at least someone cared enough to try to pin back my ears. Around the same time, I received from another reader some very encouraging comments that I should write a book about Pluto, since I seemed to know so much about all matters Plutonian.

Now, despite the fact that I have nearly 800 followers on Twitter, I mostly feel like a forgotten child on this site...a drop in the bucket of astrology blogs. There are just so many of them out there. Some of them are truly inspired (hello, Donna Cunningham!). It's too daunting to try to "keep up." (Gee, should I try to write about Leonard Nimoy's chart while everyone is still talking about his death? #LiveLongAndProsper, indeed!) It's hard to feel "original" writing about aspects, signs, etc. when it's all been written before, countless times, sometimes brilliantly. It's the kind of feeling I sometimes have as a writer in other genres, that all the stories have already been told, that there are a set number of themes 'n' variations, that all the archetypes have already been explored to the nth degree. Then I snap out of it and write anyway.

Sometimes I wonder why someone with my particular chart would get not just political but personal on this site. Then I think about Rembrandt, one of the greatest artists who ever lived. Like me, he was a Cancer Sun with a Scorpio Moon, and he was known for his endless self-portraits. I wonder if anyone ever said to him, "Hey, Van Rijn, what's up with all the selfies? It's not as if you're pretty enough to be on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel or nothin'." I wonder if he was confident enough not to reply at all but instead ask aloud where he'd put that fly-swatter, or if he got embarrassed (and then promptly made a self-portrait of himself blushing) or defensive. I cannot, of course, answer for the master -- that would be beyond presumptuous, and this is not a blue-book midterm essay for an art history class.

But I know how looking at Rembrandt's self-portraits makes me feel. It's as if I'm peering into his private peep show; I see the unmistakable intensity and resolve in his eyes, yet cannot say for sure what color they are due his love of chiaroscuro, the interplay of light and shadow. (Rembrandt would have made one hell of a film noir director.) I doubt he was "just" lazy or self-centered to be his own go-to model; and as much as he showed, he kept plenty about his visage (as a portal to his whole self) a mystery. (In that vein, readers of this blog and of my fiction and poetry may see me as an open book, but I have more than one book, so to speak.) I have no idea how confident Rembrandt truly was in his abilities, but he believed in himself enough to stay in Holland instead of going to Italy, and he wound up immortalizing himself in paint. If getting so personal in his art enabled him know himself better -- in a time when psychotherapy did not yet exist -- so much the better, yet who knows how self-aware Rembrandt really was. He might have painted like a god, but he was, in the end, just human.

Sometimes I like to think that by painting myself on this site as a highly fallible human being filled with various worries, crotchets, and obsessions that go into living as a non-hermit in a town without pity in the early 21st century, I might be helping someone who lives halfway across the world, or down the street, feel less alone in his or her pain...maybe even help more by not posing as a one-way mirror, as some mystical astrology oracle preaching from a place far removed from all the noise and mess of living. There are more astrology blogs out there than ever, and with people buying online chart interpretations for much less money than a face-to-face reading would cost, all I can do is keep on being myself, warts and all. I may never enter the astrology pantheon the way Rembrandt did with his art, but oh well -- at least I have a cute button nose and good teeth.

But this was supposed to be a post about bidding adieu to the coldest damn month in NYC since 1934 (not too coincidentally, the last Uranus-Pluto square era). To that end, I will therefore share with you this poem I wrote on the subway last week. (I am thinking of compiling a collection of poems I wrote while in transit, to be titled When I Get a Seat on the Subway.)

February Lunation

In the darkest part
of the dark of the moon,
the subway whines
a death's-head tune.
My phone then rings
like a drowning loon;
it's HR from LA--
rejection's a goon.

Good riddance
to Aquarius!
My mind's a mess,
my soul can't dance.
In subzero stress
there is no success;
I haven't a chance.

Now the moon is new
though it's still 4 degrees
and I'm still on a train,
cut off at the knees.

Crossing the bridge,
I spot the Statue of Liberty
and pray to her icy greenness
at the mouth of the cold city.

From Dark of the Moon to New Moon: The Siberian Express; or, Come On, Baby, Let the Hard Times Roll

New Moons frequently occur in the final degree of a sign. The one this past Wednesday at 6:47 p.m. EST, however, was so cuspy at 29 degrees, 54 minutes, and 54 seconds of Aquarius that by 6:50 p.m., both the Sun and Moon were in Pisces. This effectively gave us a New Moon across two signs.

Emotionally, things did seem to ease a bit once the Sun and Moon entered Pisces (and at the time, Mars and Venus were still in Pisces). That's just on a personal level -- water signs tend to breathe better with transiting planets in water, whereas fire signs may feel extinguished. However, much of the U.S. is still dealing with the so-called Siberian Express, many people at my temp gig are still wheezing and sneezing, and despite all the vitamins I am taking and hand sanitizer I am using, I am currently dealing with my fourth cold in six weeks (or maybe it's the same cold that I'm just not getting over).

We are now solidly into the New Moon period -- and I was honored to catch sight of the Moon-Venus conjunction this past frigid Friday evening as I walked west from my subway stop to home, as it was a truly beautiful sight, and I was jonesin' for beauty -- yet not much feels different. This is partly because Mercury, though direct now, still has a ways to go through Aquarius, where it was retrograde for a very long three weeks (and perhaps tied into the Siberian Express).

Another part of the lingering dark-of-the-moon feeling is due to the approaching Sun-Saturn square (exact Mon. 2/23, 8:56 a.m., followed just one minute later by another square, between the Moon and Mercury). This is the very first Sun-Saturn square to occur since Saturn entered Sagittarius at the end of 2014. The Sun squaring Saturn is a classic authority-clash aspect between man and The Man. Unfortunately, this aspect, especially given the signs involved (Pisces and Sagittarius) favors the type of bully of either gender who represents Law and Order, the status quo, or just looks good on paper while engaging in such cowardly, underhanded tactics as backbiting, trolling, and stalking while also being territorial and greedy. If you symbolize the Sun in Pisces (creative, intuitive, mystical, true to yourself), wait this one out. If you personify the worst side of Saturn in Sagittarius (cold, rigid, hypocritical, avaricious) go for it....

....with the caveat that just like you, karma's a bitch.

Mercury Finally Turns Direct!

Mercury stations direct at 6:01 p.m. EDT. Whew!

With Mercury stationary -- i.e., just having turned retrograde or direct, and therefore remaining in the same degree for a few days until it gains momentum one way or the other -- this is an ideal time to focus your mind. Meditate. Get a mantra. Reflect. Write a long letter or have an in-depth conversation. Be prepared to go over recent ground. Ponder your local environment. Do your homework, and put your house in order. Think, but try not to overthink; take precautions, but try not to let your care turn to anxiety or worry.

The Moon-Uranus trine at 6:31 p.m. EDT, right after Mercury turns direct, should encourage flashes of insight and harmonious interaction with female friends.

Regarding Hurricane Irene, if you happen to live along the Eastern Seaboard and must evacuate, Mercury direct will make it a little easier than if this had happened just a few days ago. (Just trying to put a positive spin on grim forecasts.) I recommend that during the Dark of the Moon period, which lasts all weekend but is especially pronounced on Sunday, you should lay in provisions for yourself even if you live nowhere near the hurricane's anticipated path. This is because the Dark of the Moon in Virgo is not the best of times to go out and socialize regardless of the weather; you may be low on energy and self-esteem, and more apt to want to engage in highly detailed work instead of play.

Update: The extreme worry and precautions being urged in my neck of the woods is a perfect read of Mercury stationing direct with Sun and Venus in Virgo. When the Moon enters Virgo on Sunday morning, I expect more of the same -- plus work to undo any actual natural damage that has occurred.