“—if it once gleamed, if it ticked, if it buzzed, if it
oiled eternal youth, if it whispered
on an old tape with the sexual lure of infinite
cash, if it said I am your private
castle and you are a queen, if it lit a thousand
bulbs, if it shaved a thousand hairs, if
it declared God loves you, if it promised
to cure harelip eczema scabies rage,
if it clipped hangnails, if it delivered proverbs, if it hugged
the ass—it’s laid out on a collapsible
table or a mat on asphalt, money will change
hands, money will change us
all, change Gypsies professors Nigerian whores
limping children drugged babies
iPodded teens Somali refugees artists in
drag illegal Albanians cruising pols We said
one world We said isn’t my money good enough
for you Switch blade Switch banks The Cloaca
Maxima accepts all currencies The Tiber
leaks yellow between its legs venereal
venerable duty-free luxurious silken rippling
classical waves sold and soldered solved reflected here—”
— Rosanna Warren
The Sabian symbol for last night’s solar eclipse is one of the most evocative in the series, and mirrors Obama‘s emergence as a symbol for a new form of leadership in the United States. I’m quoting from Dane Rudhyar‘s commentary and excellent book (really the only good book on the subject), An Astrological Mandala: The Cycle of Transformation and its 360 Degree Symbolic Phase.
The symbol for seven degrees Aquarius is: A child is seen being born out of an egg. Rudhyar writes that this marks the materialization of a “global man for the New Age.” Considering Obama’s ascendancy, and his political impact on the cross-cultural, world stage — the synchronicity is potent. Rudhyar explains that the “ancient symbolism of the Cosmic Egg out of which a new universe is born can be interpreted at several levels. Here we see the appearance of a new type of human being who is not born from “Ancestors” and who therefore is free from the inertia of mankind’s past. He is a new product of evolution, a mutant.” Read more
Sometimes when I see the bare arms of trees in the evening
I think of men who have died without love,
Of desolation and space between branch and branch,
I think of immovable whiteness and lean coldness and fear
And the terrible longing between people stretched apart as these
And the cold space between.
I think of the vastness and courage between this step and that step
Of the yearning and fear of the meeting, of the terrible desire
I think of the ocean of longing that moves between land and land
And between people, the space and ocean.
The bare arms of the trees are immovable, without the play of
leaves, without the sound of wind;
I think of the unseen love and the unknown thoughts that exist
between tree and tree
As I pass these things in the evening, as I walk.
— John Tagliabue
Tonight’s full moon in Cancer is perigee again (as it was last month). This makes the moon appear gigantic at the horizon and also connotes big emotions, big turmoils and big revelations and resolutions.
In a bit of cosmic irony, Saturn turned retrograde exactly on New Year’s day, dampening the sense of enthusiasm we usually associate with the start of a new year. This reinforces the unavoidable fact that we’re still entrenched in a cathartic re-arrangment of our culture, politics and economy. We need a mystic’s perspective to navigate our current predicament — meaning a deep faith that despite the collapse of existing structures, the loss and turmoil, a Phoenix will rise from the ashes. And, wow — ask and you shall receive:
The arrangement of planets during tonight’s full moon create what is termed a ‘mystic rectangle’, involving the Sun in Capricorn with Saturn in Virgo, Uranus in Pisces, and the Moon in Cancer — all water and earth signs. A mystic rectangle features two oppositions, two trines and two sextiles. That combination of aspects is enough to unravel our best efforts to control or become too literal-minded, and perhaps this is why Dane Rudhyar interpreted this pattern as being one of “practical mysticism.” We’re forced into a non-secular orientation that takes us out of our box, our modus operandi. Surprisingly, we discover that we can function just fine from this new place. We underestimated our capacities. We need this particular type of soul training, this kind of reminder right now, to take on the task of the year ahead. Read more
Established astrologers — those that make some sort of living from the subject — are decidedly divided when it comes to the issue of Sun-sign columns. To some, Sun-sign astrology is a disgrace to the profundity and subtleties of the art. While others, myself included, see horoscope columns as good lure. If it weren’t for those tiny Dell Sun Sign booklets that I hoarded as a kid, I’d never have dedicated myself so determinedly to deeper study.
To pugnacious scientists like Richard Dawkins‘ dismay, it’s a dazzling testament to astrology’s oracular power that nearly every periodical in the world carries a horoscope section. Most of the Sun-sign columns read like fortune cookie banalities — and this might be the secret to their appeal (their association with eating dessert). But occasionally, amidst the riffraff and dross, a column appears that is both astrologically erudite and pop-culturally savvy — written in a manner that speaks to the urban poet (and astrology lover) within each of us.