I started reading the most fascinating book last month. Kim Farnell‘s Flirting with the Zodiac. No, it’s not a tome on dating. Farnell’s book is an incredibly detailed, snappily written, thoroughly engaging history of Sun signs. Yes, those kind — the forecasting columns, almanacs, and goofy Zolar books. You know, that section of the newspaper you lunge for every morning.

Who knew? I thought Linda Goodman invented the craze, (not) but as Farnell tells us, Sun sign astrology dates back to Babylonian times. That’s a long trail of advice for the lovelorn!

Today, Sun sign astrology is ubiquitous, all across the universe. Name a magazine, newspaper or tabloid that doesn’t carry a Sun sign column and I’ll accuse you of being illiterate. (The Jehovah’s Witness’ Watchtower doesn’t count).

Because I’m on the verge of launching my own monthly column in a local newspaper, I thought I’d work with tomorrow’s full moon in Aries and transform my usual globalized interpretation into a — “Wait for it!” (as Sister Wendy Beckett would say) — Sun sign extravaganza. And this will be the real deal people. Not one of those mashups (Ms. Bridgid) where you’re instructed to “also read your rising sign if you know it.” The column will be all about your Sun, baby. Yep, white hot! All Sun, all the time. (Could a Leo rising do it any other way?)

Too, the approach I’ll take with my column is going to be quirky. I won’t be setting up solar charts for my analysis (a technique where you put the Sun sign on the ascendant and then decipher the chart’s transits accordingly.) No, my column will be based on the real, live aspects to the Sun and where it resides by sign. Your sign.

To keep things interesting (and staving off tedium) I will couple my astro delineations with a one-card Tarot draw per sign. Oh the joy! Now, I may or may not talk about the card I pull for my analysis (I mean, imagine you’re a Pisces. Do you really want to know that I drew the Nine of Swords for your forecast? Imagine the drama!) You’ll just have to trust me.

I’ve only got so many words I can conjure per Sun sign, and god knows the battle between insights from the Tarot and the stellar inculcation from the ten planets will be daunting. My hope is that I don’t devolve into a sort of Charles Bukowski-like, Tourette’s-flying basket case. I remember my astrological hero, Dennis Elwell, once warned of the mind-numbing condition of Sun sign writing, so I’ve got to take his caveat and prove him wrong; as every devotee must do, eventually, with the master.

I will also be writing the column from my own everyday observations of friends, associates, family members and Walmart shoppers. I’m one of those old-fashioned astrologers that puts real stock in the question “What sign are you?” It’s a blessing and a curse. Especially when I’m dating. (Sorry all of you Aries and Aquarian men out there.) Read more

Saturn. Lead. Gravity. And gravitas. With Saturn comes a quality of substance, a depth of being. Within the planetary pantheon, Saturn equates with the visceral experience of ‘now.’ Time as ‘is.’ What you are grappling with — now, what you are attempting to learn and master — now, to comprehend and stick it out — there’s Saturn.

Uranus. Can language even describe its particular electricity and type of fire? Think about electricity for a moment. What in the hell is it exactly — other than some mysterious force born of friction? Dane Rudhyar once called Uranus an ambassador from another galaxy. Wow. Read more

If you’ve wondered about the legitimacy of working with the Sabian symbols today’s Pisces Full Moon should quell any doubts. The images are kick-in-the-gut cogent. For 13 degrees Virgo, where the Sun resides, we have the image: “A powerful statesman overcomes a state of political hysteria.”

For the Moon’s degree in Pisces, the symbol depicts: “An ancient sword, used in many battles, is displayed in a museum.” Both of these emblems portend much, hold a dynamic promise (or debacle) — especially as Obama prepares what will be a last-ditch, make-or-break speech addressing both houses of Congress next week. And I’ll talk a bit more about this below. Read more

In the 60s and 70s people blew stuff up and set buildings on fire, (some self-immolated to help emphasize their ‘message’). A few were fired on at protests and demonstrations across the country. Some people were killed. I remember going to an organized protest in Seattle recently, citizens taking a stand against California’s Prop 8 passage. But could I call it a protest? A bunch of hipsters with cell phones milling about, texting each other while a guy with a blow horn blathered on about being ‘queer’ and ‘here’ now. He looked more like someone trying to mimic an image he’d seen in a picture. Probably a JPEG on Wikipedia. Incendiary? Uhm, hardly. The image of a wet match comes to mind. No directive, no opinions clarified, no real fire — just tweeting and cellphone pics beaming out into the ether. A Samuel Goldwyn-ism came to mind: “Include me out.”

In a recent interview, Ralph Nader remarked: “This is the third television generation…They have grown up watching screens. They have not gone to rallies. Those are history now. They hear their parents and grandparents talk about marches and rallies. They have little toys and gizmos that they hold in their hands. They have no idea of any public protest or activity. It is a tapestry of passivity.”

This disconcerting disconnect from what’s virtual (seemingly real) and really real — what I call the Reality Gap — is what the just-gaining-speed Pluto in Capricorn transit will remedy in the years ahead. Capricorn, the quintessential symbol of thick, dense, leaden, undeniable, real matter is being transited by a force that’s only ‘mission’ is to purge the ways we’ve become disconnected from what’s real. Real as opposed to false. Simply put: Pluto’s impulse is to allow an organism, person or a culture to experience the style of the archetype in its purest, most raw form. No impediments. Just the pure power of the sign. Capricorn’s style is pragmatism. The Capricorn message is “Get real.” Pluto in Capricorn says “Get real — or else.” Read more

Douglas Rushkoff outlines the roots of our current debacle, from the late Middle Ages to today. From the founding of the chartered monopoly to the branding of the self; from the invention of central currency to the privatization of banking; from the birth of the modern, self-interested individual to his exploitation through the false ideal of the single-family home; from the Victorian Great Exhibition to the solipsism of MySpace; the corporation has infiltrated all aspects of our daily lives. Life Inc. exposes why we see our homes as investments rather than places to live, our 401k plans as the ultimate measure of success, and the Internet as just another place to do business.

The ongoing transit of Neptune and Jupiter over the United State’s Moon in Aquarius is creating an opportunity for us to begin to envision, collectively, a new way of sustaining our culture. Rushkoff’s illuminates both how we’ve become disconnected from our world, and how we can reconnect to our towns, to the value we can create, and mostly, to one another — aligning with the Aquarian concept of life as one interconnected web, a sense of connection that eventually opens the individual to the experience of unicity or Oneness.

Eclipses. The cosmic gifts that keep on giving. And thrilling.

Why do eclipses fascinate?

Astrologically, the specificity and exactness of the eclipse mirrors a concentration of attention and awareness within the biosphere. That’s one reason. But more, eclipses disrupt our normal perception of the heavens. Our accustomed sky view shifts. During an eclipse, reality feels inside out. The Sun darkens or the Moon casts its own ruddy luminescence.

And the sky within? Imagine your will, your conscious self (Sun) aligned perfectly — or opposed exactly — to the rich contents of your unconscious (Moon.) Dreams concentrate and condense during eclipse periods — the dream’s narrative becomes emphatic, unforgettable. The opportunity to divine, to perceive intuitively, is heightened. So, now’s your chance.

The lunation today concludes the Leo Aquarius eclipse series that commenced in early 2008. So we’re at a culmination point, events of the last eighteen months moving towards resolution. The flood gates are about to open. Because this concluding eclipse series occurred in fixed signs (Leo and Aquarius), our sense of time, the movement of time felt sluggish and incremental — stuck in a rut. When the next eclipse series begins, within the Cancer Capricorn polarity, time takes on a more dynamic, volatile sense. Quicker paced, expansive, initiatory.

Wednesday’s lunar eclipse strokes the 14th degree of Aquarius. The Sabian symbol for this degree: A train entering a tunnel. Watch as everything crescendos — but then goes to black. This degree symbol seems paradoxical, given the conclusion of the Leo Aquarius series. A cosmic irony: We’re ready to move forward — but straight into a dark tunnel. Read more