Stories like this are always great teaching tools. The more absurd or emphatic an event the more the planetary positions (and chart angles) are highlighted.
I spoke with a Verizon official to get an estimated time for this event and it was between 11 am and noon (*) on July 17th.
The short version of the story: A woman entered a Verizon store in California without a mask on, she was asked to leave, she refused. The store’s manager called 911, and the women then proceeded to lower her pants and urinate on the floor in a corner of the store. Cops arrived to arrest her and while doing so found a cache of stolen goods in her bag, stuff cockroached from an adjoining sporting goods store.
So high-jinx and criminality that’s displayed in public would have Mercury and 10th house associations throbbing — and sure enough, the chart for the adventure has a Virgo ascendant (which Mercury — god of thieves — rules) with the Moon (females) and Venus (an older-than-a-child female) conjunct the mid-heaven of public (oops, Freudian slip — typed ‘pubic’ there which is my way of knowing that this is worth amplifying) happenings or displays.
The Gemini mid-heaven is a high-noon Mecurial iteration — an event for all of the world to see (or read about). And with Venus and the Moon conjunct in Gemini — both of those markers link over — another iteration — to Mercury (Gemini’s ruler — in Cancer, as well as the chart’s ruler par excellence). All this Mercury, all of this Gemini, all of this trickster acting out.
Mercury in Cancer (unedited instinctual reactions — that can be highly imaginative) makes an applying square aspect (gathering storm and ‘cloud burst’) to an impulsive Mars in Aries in the 8th house of clandestine criminality: stolen sporting goods (Mars-ruled) hidden in a bag (the 8th house).
Add scatological behavior (8th house is associated with elimination and expulsion, especially with Aries on the house cusp) and we’ve slipped into another dimension of ‘the return of the repressed’ — as kids we just shit and pissed ourselves willy-nilly, often as ways to punish our parents who we might have experienced as controlling or, worse, blind to our existence. Read more
When an author approaches the end of writing a book it’s not unusual for the unconscious to rebel and throw up roadblocks on the path to completion. I assume this is true for any artist serious about his or her long-term project. A day of reckoning always looms.
These rogue psychic forces are related to the process that accompanies severance. To end the creative flow is to relinquish control.
Worse, there will follow the book’s actual existence, after the fact; a harsh distinction between the fantasy that accompanied imagining the project and its materialization.
As Jung’s right-hand agent, Marie-Louise Von Franz noted: “People sometimes resist becoming creative because one’s would be creativeness is always so much more impressive … than the little egg one lays in the end when birth takes place!”
And so, not surprisingly, as I’m starting to push my new book Astrology, Facebook and The Zombie Apocalypse into the final laps around the track, my nocturnal dreams — the great compensatory forces in life — have become more forceful and direct.
Many years ago I took a job as a telephone psychic because I needed money. What started as a lark turned quickly into a kind of purgatory until I realized that I’d a rare opportunity to turn something grindingly tedious (and bizarre) into gold. I wrote and sold my book about my experiences to a mainstream publisher. And then later that same book became the fodder for an upcoming television series. Read more