So, I haven’t done a horary chart in ages. They’re such a lot of work.
But as is my custom, I did a cursory scan of the major transits yesterday becaw-w-w-se… beginning of the month!
There’s that awful Saturn/Pluto/Jupiter conjunction in Capricorn, the sign of administration—The Great Transformation, the ancients called this Jupiter/Saturn alignment (Pluto had not yet been discovered)—square bellicose Mars, the planet of war, in Aries, the sign of fools rushing in to tread on angels (and my own birth sign, one must note.)
I could see Mars in the sky last night, showcased by a full moon so bright that yes, you could read by it, so long as you were reading large print.
I figured a war would break out somewhere.
Iran/Israel? U.S./China? Azerbaijan? Maybe a civil war right here in our own U.S. of A?
What I didn’t figure is that it could signify Trump catching IT.
Another shakeup in the kaleidoscope of political events, which are changing so fast, they’re giving me vertigo.
I don’t wish pain and suffering on anybody. Not even Trump.
And I actually do not want Trump to become too incapacitated.
Because if Trump becomes incapacitated, Pence becomes the power—and I’ve always thought that Pence was potentially far more dangerous than Trump since there is nothing whatsoever to object to in his personal character, hence all those disaffected Republicans, disgusted by Trump’s bullying and brazenness, will flock right back to elephant worship.
The Democrats may not be morally superior to the Republicans in any substantiative way, but at least they pay lip service to some of the things that are important to me.
The coming election—like most elections—is a choice between two evils, but it’s crystal clear, which the lesser of those two evils is.
The next Saturn/Jupiter conjunction is on December 21 in Aquarius, the most progressive and humanitarian of the astrological signs.
I figured that would signify the discovery and authentication of a vaccine.
But at this point, who knows?
Anyway, it’s all very interesting.
There’s a train barreling down the track.
In other news, getting the Internet back involved the acquisition of a new router and then figuring out how to program the new router—not particularly difficult except the instructions provided by the ISP were originally written in Swahili and then transliterated into Dutch before being turned over to a super-smart baboon for translation into English. So, you know. It took a loooong time, and afterwards, I was so exhausted that all I could do was retreat to my bed and watch Season 3 of The Real Housewives of Potomac.
The Real Housewives of Potomac is rapidly becoming my very favorite Real Housewives franchise! For one thing, it provides a definitive answer to the question: Is being Black a biological thing or a cultural thing?
For another, all the housewives are actually likeable in some way. Yes, of course, all of them are consumers with a capital C, but they’re not entitled consumers, and they all have relatively good taste, so I like looking at what they consume—which I cannot say for the BH or NYC housewives.
I must still draw the line at watching Atlanta or New Jersey. (Especially New Jersey—I really hate watching other Italians go all Guido.)
Even I must maintain some standards. Crossposted from Dreamwidth.