Freewill Astrology
Oh, my Gods and Monsters, as a friend of mine is fond of saying.

Crabby Love Rant about love and pizza.
I'm not sure I believe in love in the sense that other people do. I get the feeling it's all a huge misunderstanding. Nature cooked up a big pot of drugs meant to trick us into breeding. Because face it, having kids hurts, it's a hell of a commitment, and 75% of parents surveyed in the 1980's said it hadn't been worth it and they wouldn't do it again if they had it to do over. Parents surveyed n more recently, were about 25% less happy than non-parents. We expect it to make us happy but it doesn't. We hate it.

So nature needs to trick us into it.

So she loads us with chemicals, and we go into an altered state in which nothing on earth is as important to us as the happiness and well-being of the beloved, (except possibly being in their presence.) These emotions, loyalty, devotion, possessiveness, protectiveness, need, are actually intended for the future offspring, but they kick in early on, and serve the very useful purpose of keeping two adults together and bonded until they've actually achieved procreation, and for about 3 years after. We mate like crazed weasels until someone gets pregnant, at which point we have about 3 years left of limerence. This emotional dependency motivates the male to help feed the female til she's done breastfeeding, and motivates the female to hang around the male, thereby keeping other males from eating the baby. The whole business is meant to get the baby weaned and on its feet and too big for an adult male to eat, before Mom gets a new partner.  Dad at that point is free to scatter his seed elsewhere. Everybody wins.

The problem is that we have these big brains. Not only are we smart enough to use birth control and just plain not reproduce, but we also want love to mean something, in the absence of breeding. The result, is romantic love. It's a lot like drinking milk. Nature didn't put it there for us, but now that we've had it we've built an entire lifestyle around it, culminating in pizza.

Marriage is like cheese. The milk (love) wasn't even intended for adult human consumption in the first place, but not only do we consume it, we ferment it and make it into an art form. Then, not content with this, we have to elevate it to a further art form--combine it with various unrelated things, such as herbs, bread, wine, etc....which could be compared to things like bondage and poetry and music.  The whole thing is very artificial.  We don't even realize that marriage is as much a form of adoption and domestication as it is an act of love.

Or it is, if the love lasts. Eventually the chemicals wear off, and there you are with this giant adult you've adopted running amock in your home. It's very disturbing.

So I'm down on love today. Or maybe I just want a pizza.

I'm several days behind on Sonnet/Card of the Day....
Sonnet 66

Tired with all these, for restful death I cry,
As, to behold desert a beggar born,
And needy nothing trimm'd in jollity,
And purest faith unhappily forsworn,
And guilded honour shamefully misplaced,
And maiden virtue rudely strumpeted,
And right perfection wrongfully disgraced,
And strength by limping sway disabled,
And art made tongue-tied by authority,
And folly doctor-like controlling skill,
And simple truth miscall'd simplicity,
And captive good attending captain ill:
Tired with all these, from these would I be gone,
Save that, to die, I leave my love alone

Aptly numbered, this sonnet cries out against all the evils of the world. The author states that he'd happily die if it weren't for his love, who would be left alone. The author has a specific complaint, hinted at in "desert a beggar born," (the deserving don't always inherit,) and "purest faith unhappily forsworn, and guilded honor shamefully misplaced, and maiden virtue rudely strumpeted.." etc...

Some sort of very heavy disgrace, that mysteriously never made it into the bios, dogs this man's steps. Someone is exerting control over the poet's words and behavior. He feels like "captive good" attending "captain ill," forced to serve someone who exploits his service to do evil.

Cards: The Devil, Nine of Swords, Ten of Swords Reversed.

I'm several days behind on Sonnet/Card of the Day....
Sonnet 130

My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun;
Coral is far more red than her lips' red;
If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;
If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.
I have seen roses damask'd, red and white,
But no such roses see I in her cheeks;
And in some perfumes is there more delight
Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.
I love to hear her speak, yet well I know
That music hath a far more pleasing sound;
I grant I never saw a goddess go;
My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground:
And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare
As any she belied with false compare.

This used to be my very favorite. I love the everything about this--particularly the tossing aside of poetic conventions and saying the love matters more than the idea of perfection.

Cards: Empress, World, 9 of Pentacles.

Sonnet 2
Sonnet II

When forty winters shall besiege thy brow,
And dig deep trenches in thy beauty's field,
Thy youth's proud livery so gazed on now,
Will be a totter'd weed of small worth held:
Then being asked, where all thy beauty lies,
Where all the treasure of thy lusty days;
To say, within thine own deep sunken eyes,
Were an all-eating shame, and thriftless praise.
How much more praise deserv'd thy beauty's use,
If thou couldst answer 'This fair child of mine
Shall sum my count, and make my old excuse,'
Proving his beauty by succession thine!
This were to be new made when thou art old,
And see thy blood warm when thou feel'st it cold.

This sonnet sings the praises not of romantic love, but of marriage and family, and above all, immortality through reproduction.

This is one that I think betrays that the "Fair Youth" might not be who everyone believes him to be. When forty winters beseige a man's brow, it's not too late to beget a son. In fact, a cursory study of noble fathers of Shakespeare's time reveals that men very often married for the first time at 35, and took second wives even later in life, begetting all the way.

Biologically, there's no reason a man couldn't beget a child on his deathbed, and socially, no reason to consider lack of youth or beauty to be an obstacle to a wealthy lord marrying a fertile young woman. There's something fishy about the way 17 sonnets frantically urge their subject to marry and reproduce, and then suddenly our poet drops the subject.

It's hard to picture a young man being so obsessed with his own beauty that he'd enter into marriage at 18, in order to preserve it. It's very easy to picture said young man saying, "I can wait til I'm 40."

Hank Whittemore thinks the first 17 Sonnets are addressed not to a Fair Youth at all, but rather, to a woman fast approaching menopause, whose unique situation in life made her a Prince, (and therefore male,)  beardless, (and therefore a youth.) I'm inclined to think he's right, actually. The phrase, "proving his beauty by succession thine," contains two hot buttons. Beauty was one of Elizabeth's nicknames, and the succession was the hottest issue throughout her entire reign.

The sonnet hints at a rich inheritance waiting for the lucky offspring, should the subject of the poem relent and produce an heir, and points out what's in it for the reluctant parent.

Card: Ten of Pentacles

Just thinking out loud.
Music: I Heard Someone Crying, from Secret Garden.
"Maybe I was dreaming of a garden growing far below, maybe I was dreaming of the life that I will never know..."

So tonight there was a HAIR reunion party thrown by the youngest cast member.Read more...Collapse )

Sonnet 147
Sonnet 147

My love is as a fever, longing still
For that which longer nurseth the disease;
Feeding on that which doth preserve the ill,
The uncertain sickly appetite to please.
My reason, the physician to my love,
Angry that his prescriptions are not kept,
Hath left me, and I desperate now approve,
Desire his death, which physic did except.
Past cure I am, now reason is past care,
And frantic-mad with evermore unrest;
My thoughts and my discourse as madmen's are,
At random from the truth vainly express'd;

For I have sworn thee fair, and thought thee bright,
Who art as black as hell, as dark as night.

This is one of the most beautiful sonnets, but also one of the darkest. It's something most people have felt, at one time or another. The comparison of unrequited love to an illness or fever is an apt one. The sonnet describes an addictive, illicit or forbidden love. The writer's own reason advises him to leave it alone, but he prefers to indulge his appetite for this person, and then suffer the consequences. He actually wants to die because of these feelings. This "love" is killing him.

He is admitting it's an addiction, an obsession, an illness, and not the pure, bright spiritual love celebrated in some of his other poems.

The picture is painted perfectly, and the ending couplet, "I have sworn thee fair, and thought thee bright, etc..." is the ultimate cry of betrayal and longing, coupled with finality. There is no hope here. As black as hell, as dark as night, is a hell of a thing to say about someone you're in love with. She has to have done something pretty bad, to deserve that, which is why this is not my number one favorite sonnet, in spite of its dazzling beauty. 

Tarot card: The Devil, Addiction, deception, self-deception, and blame.  And that part about "my thoughts are as madmen's are," also fits well with the Moon Reversed.

In honor of Shakespeare Appreciation Week....
And in direct contrast with Merry Wives of Windsor, which I'm going to see on Saturday night,  I'm re-posting the sonnet kellyrfine posted today, because it's in my top ten favorites.

It's reasonable to have ten favorite Shakespeare sonnets, right?

Sonnet 29
by William Shakespeare

When in disgrace with Fortune and men's eyes,
I all alone beweep my outcast state,
And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries,
And look upon myself and curse my fate,
Wishing me like to one more rich in hope,
Featured like him, like him with friends possessed,
Desiring this man's art, and that man's scope,
With what I most enjoy contented least;
Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising,
Haply I think on thee, and then my state,
Like to the lark at break of day arising
From sullen earth, sings hymns at heaven's gate;
For thy sweet love remembered such wealth brings
That then I scorn to change my state with kings.

I could go on and on about this sonnet.
Anybody who's ever experienced genuine depression understands that bit about "with what I most enjoy contented least."  But I don't think I want to explicate this sonnet today. I don't think I want to go into who I think he's talking to, what I think it means, whose art he could possibly have envied or who he felt an outcast among, or what hopes he wished he were richer in. Or what guy he believed had higher hopes, and about what.

I'll just say that of the Tarot deck, this sonnet corresponds most closely to the meaning of the 5 of cups, in which a grieving figure, pondering his great loss, risks losing all he has left, by looking the wrong direction.

And I'll quote one of my old lines from Comedy of Errors. I once played Luciana, who cries out to a man she thinks is her sister's husband, "Gaze where you should, and that will clear your sight!"  Of course, Antipholus of Syracuse is gazing exactly where he should, and scorns to change his state with kings....or at least with his twin brother.

for the next week, I'm going to match my favorite sonnets, in descending order, to Tarot cards. No song, no movie. No connection to prior readings. At the end of the week I'll return to the previous format.

Card of the Day
The World--Key 21

Description: A woman dances, twirling two batons, in the center of a wreath. Surrounding the wreath are the spirits of the four quarters, which also represent the four High Holidays, or cross-quarter days.  Arranged widdershins--Taurus, May 1, Beltane, earth, Leo, Aug 1, Lammas, fire, Scorpio, Nov 1, Samhain,  water, and finally Aquarius, Feb 1, Candlemas, air.  The woman is nude except for a diaphanous veil across her genitalia.

Interpretation: Abundance, fertility, achievement of one's goals, the birth of a child, fulfillment. The attainment of one's hopes. Considered second only to the Sun in positive significance. Ultimate union of opposites, Lord and Lady in one person. The cosmic riddle. Reversed: Rejoicing in sensuality and creature comforts, but can be materialistic, shallow.  Unwanted pregnancy, blessings without wisdom.

Because this card actually contains a cast circle, it can be powerful magic for one who knows how to use it. Its number, 21, reduces to 3, linking it to the Empress card. 

I've seen this card signify a lottery win, the birth of a child, a dream job, or the purchase or sale of a house.  Things to ask yourself:  what am I thankful for?

Movie: It's a Wonderful Life, Miracle on 34th St, Field of Dreams. Song: Because, by the Beatles, "We Are The World."

What have I done?
cut because I don't know how long this is going to be....

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Still have "Ballad of Lucy Jordan" stuck in my head, along with "Coward of the County" and "The Gambler," which can be hummed to the same tune and easily mistaken for each other. Not sure what my brain's trying to tell me with such "up" tunes.

I feel like banging on the "ceiling " and asking Grandma to put something good on the record player already. Surely she knows some better songs.


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