As the last rays of the Sagittarian Sun dissolve and bleed into Capricorn, it seems timely to post last weeks interview with Linda Kohanov, founder of Eponaquest and author of “The Tao Of Equus” a groundbreaking work on the relationship between humans and horses. Along with the best selling “Tao” Linda has also authored “Riding Between Worlds” and “The Way Of The Horse.” Next fall, her fourth book on equine magic, “The Power Of The Herd” will be published across all formats.
I decided to reach out to Linda and have her on in the aftermath of Interior Secretary, Ken Salazar’s decision to lift the ban on killing horses in the wild and allowing slaughterhouses to once again, kill, butcher and pack horse meat for human and animal consumption. This was initiated under the sign of The Centaur. Linda’s concern is that it opens the gates to raising horses like cattle and destroys their literal and symbolic nature.
On 12/25, Stephen Spielberg releases, “War Horse.” It is based on the novel of the same name by Michael Morpungo, who heard the tales of soldiers from Devon who fought in WWI. In his research, Morpungo estimated that ten million horses died during the war, both in battle and slaughtered for their meat.
As Russia and the US swing their intercontinental ballistic flaming phalluses across the forbidden interzone of the missile shield, is “Warhorse” a symbolic precursor for something more ominous, such as Albert Pike’s lurid vision of a Third World War?
The horse (Sag) has taken us to the foot of the mountain. As the Capricorn Sun awaits us, its one foot in front of another as we ascend.
Sometimes light pours through the smallest of cracks during the darkest time of the year. This is the celestial season of the winter solstice in the Northern Hemisphere, where in our darkest hour the light begins to seep back into our awareness and linear time with incremental advance. Most times its too subtle to tell, but it is there, gradual, second by-second, minute-by-minute, hour-by-hour, day-by-day. Soon, we are swimming in the (lux)ury of radiance and the dimmest of days are behind us.
In my last post, it might have seemed that these are days to be gotten through and endured. Make no mistake, I think our greatest challenges lie ahead, some sort of reckoning lurching towards us in the season of night. Something Titanic (To be re-released in April of 2012 in 3D).
What is the most audacious act of social, civil and religious disobedience you could ever partake in? Is it squatting on the outskirts of Lloyd Blankfein’s summer estate? I’ll tell you what it is; It is loving one another. It is acting as though the person in front of you is the most sacred being on the planet. Its listening with full intent while another speaks. Its seeing through the steely wool gauze of chemicals and metals in our sky and realizing that we are flying through space, wheeling amongst stars at incredible speeds, voyagers on a breathtaking cosmic journey. It is knowing deep in your heart what is right and wrong and living from the conviction of that place; unimpeachable congruence as an agency of wisdom and truth. Its honoring and standing up for those that can’t. Its seeing the divine in the most wretched and despised of our species, yes, for even the smallest spark dwells therein. To affirm and decree this is the most outrageous and courageous stance you can take. Its affirming that you are alive and have been given the chance to test yourself against the crushing gravity of these times.
Before the Sun shifts from Sag to Cap on the solstice, we can tap into the exuberance and optimism that is the beneficent font which flows ceaselessly from the archer of vision and insight. When the Sun shifts, a sober, saturnine appropriation of our affairs and the world shifts with it. The high-flying benevolence of Sag moves into practical application. Capricorn becomes the stage for enacting sagacious strategies. Here, there is no loss of momentum, only a continuum, a wheel of evolution, cycles of being that we can integrate at its every turn. Give thanks and praise to all that’s God and good and prepare to move to the next level.
It was December of 1989. I was in Ocean Shores, Washington. It was Christmas Eve. I had been up late with Mad Max, a consultant. We talked about the nature of psyche and the shamanic experience. He went to bed and I stayed up for a while watched the scene from the Vatican, the one that had been played out thousands of times before. A year earlier I was midnight mass tripping on E at Grace Cathedral, newly engaged and feeling like anything was possible. I traveled on a photon beam through time. I was the baby Jesus. I was the straw in the manger. I was the lambs bleating their ancient song. I was the starlight in the cold clear eve of a new age born. I was the approach of magic on camels through the silent night. That was then. A year later in the heart of my Saturn return in Cap in my 2nd House, it was rough sledding. I was restless. The Seattle winter was cold in more ways than merely physical. I struggled to find meaningful work, caught in the riptide of a local backlash against Californians, I felt like I was living in quicksand.
After Mad Max went to bed I pondered the concept of faith, God, all things eternal and my soul. Something strange and very uncomfortable occurred. A voice came to me, well more than a voice–a voice and a presence. It essentially said to me that “If I could let it all go and surrender, that I could be at one with God in my conscious awareness. This was not some sort of generic, New Age, universal oneness trip. It was clearly personal and felt very “Christian.” As I lay in bed, my semi-naked wife next to me, in the hush of the night, I was being asked to give it all up. I had no guarantee if I’d still want to be with her, or if my goals would remain the same and if the world would hold the same meaning as it had. It felt like a conversion moment. I thought about it. I liked my edge. I liked my ego. I liked the drama of duality. I could not say goodbye to the “little i.” And then, the moment passed. The angel moved on.
MuteMath, one of my favorite bands has just released “Odd Soul” their third and best album. I’ve been playing it non-stop since I downloaded it last week. Sonically, it’s amazing. Songs like “Blood Pressure” and “Walking Paranoia” are fueled by muscular funk, riding the hot rails of rapid tempo shifts and air-tight-time signatures, whomping baselines and sweet harmonies. They’ll throw down 70′s jazz fusion, pro-rock, North African rhythms, Cajun shuffle, all in one song. It’s inspiring and breathtaking. They take huge risks sonically and thematically. Born again Christians, Odd Soul is at once an affirmation of their faith, (see the cross on the lapel in the CD cover art) and a deep query regarding the roots of that faith. They’re not taking anything for granted. They’re working it out in sound. Its dynamic, frenetic and inspiring. Perched between the expectations of their charismatic traditions and the secular marketplace, they’re carving out a deeply respectable niche as brilliant musicians, fixed on an uncompromising vision. I cannot recommend their latest work enough. Its helping to push me through patches of dead space and the growing shadows of despair.
In many ways, their music/soul is reflective of Neptune and Chiron in Pisces. They, along with Tim Tebow are giving Neptune/Pisces/Jesus a new slant that feels transcendent. Tebow apart from his offseason Summer job, shearing foreskins from indigenous people is one of the good guys. Yeah, he sings hokey songs about God and points upward like most believers do when something important happens, but there can be no denying the essential nature of his goodness. Each game he plays, he flies a child with a serious illness to the game and puts them up at his expense. He brings them to the game and onto the field and talks to them. He meets them after the game for more connection. Bash him if you will, but if you don’t think we need more of this type of care in the world, Christian or not, well, I’ll say my own little version of a prayer for you.
Neptune and Chiron in Pisces fleshes out the failure of faith, especially in the realm of false profits/prophets and in its wake something profound, holy, sacred and untouched by the degradation of the world can emerge. Maybe that angel from Ocean Shores has circled back today and is spreading its message on virtual wings.
How much would you be willing to let go and surrender for peace and an unshakable love in your heart?
Its recently come to my attention after close to three years of blogging and breaking it all down, that we need a new vector, a different approach. All of the symbols are out in the open. As SB 1867 passes and the troops return home, there is a feeling of endgame in the air and yet I am giddy. I am filled with an optimism not truly fitting for the tenor of our times. There’s a new spirit coming and its going to surprise and lot of people, even so-called “true believers.” When it calls, listen very carefully.
“Blood Pressure” by MuteMath from Odd Soul uploaded by them on this writer’s birthday.
Uranus goes direct and the Moon goes full on lunar eclipse in Gemini. I’ve got my popcorn ready. Already, I’ve time traveled back at least two decades today. I spent over an hour on Skype with a grad student from Paris talking about my experience at MONDO 2000. It was fascinating to review the rise of cyber culture and my place in it. My monologue turned into a lively discussion between us as we discussed the perils and potential of technology and the edgy precipice of change from which we seem to be hugging and clinging onto for dear life. Eventually the discussion morphed into Tumblr pages, walls of images without text, the post-modern equivalent of the Lascaux caves; testaments to our presence without syntax.
Twitter and text speak hacks the language into generationally encrypted code. Slang is a quaint notion–few altered words peppering the lexicon at the fringes, almost always assimilated at some point. This is different. Its a whole new speak. I’m not necessarily disparaging it. I never want to be the old dude that talks about, “when we were young” but I have to tell you, I am hanging by the thinnest thread of a hyper-tensile nano-filament from becoming that guy.
As I try to decipher a typical Tumblr page, its almost overwhelming. I think about the minds and hearts that plugged the images into the page. How overwhelmed they might be and that the wall of pictures is their way to process all of it without the burden of language. In essence, this is the most expedient way to arrange and assemble a world that is making less and less sense, while hope fades like a bleeding sunset, rust colored and burning through the gauze of iron oxide skies. I get it. This is how they feel and words are a luxury. Besides do they even trust words?
Words are the basis of contracts, both agreed upon and implied. Words are vermin spreading the plague of lies. Images generally don’t lie inasmuch as they don’t always tell the truth either. They have their own narrative which is far more subjective, and can’t be held to any reasonable standard. But what are the images really saying? It appears to us as chaos, but in reality the Tumbler walls are both a shrine to chaos and a desperate attempt to capture and chronicle as much of it as possible–almost obsessively. By living on Twitter, Tumblr and Text, there’s a ferocious effort to manage chaos on nearly a moment-to-moment basis by taking pictures of half-eaten plates of pad-thai, a cocktail, bubble tea, ken doing barbie, eyes of horus, Drake, unicorns, rainbows, family pets, you name it. Its like a frenetic catalog of existence, dark, humorous, tragic and mundane. Don’t make too much of it though, or you’ll get their most powerful symbol; A big middle-finger.
As I skim through random Tumblr pages, its becoming increasingly clear that the youth are adopting illuminist imagery and symbols with greater frequency. Remember, this is mostly the “Pluto in Scorpio” generation and they are into power–plain and simple. They see the likes of Jay-Z, Rhianna, Kanye, Ludicris, etc., as ambassadors of power, gate keepers of realms that need no apology and are devoid of the burden of morality. Their care has been cremated in the bonfires of convention with ritual blazings of blunt realities.
When I step back and view them from the most dispassionate place that I can, I ask myself; “Is someone else offering them a better deal?” Contemporary Christianity has failed them as its become so utterly concerned about its end times navel. Its lost touch with the power of the gospels and is high on revelations. Its not their fault really. Faith has been hijacked so as to be thoroughly disconnected from this temporal realm. The strategy has been to give up on this world and wait for the day when they’re snatched up from this hell hole and watch the end times in 3-D from the comfort of heavenly McMansions with the most divine popcorn balls you’ve ever tasted–you can even get’em deep fried too, without any of that nasty fructose and GMO corn they have back down there on planet sin.
If I’m 19 or 20 and my options are getting high, having sex, listening to hip hop and trafficking in symbols of ancient power, rather than listen to Ziocon blowhards like Pat Robertson or John Hagee cheerlead for Israel, solely to keep it in place for its destruction upon the arrival of the Second Coming, well which one would you pick? One philosophy espouses getting laid and getting paid, while the other is completely impotent in the face of chaos, offering the faint promise of a tardy savior who’s taking his sweet time, delivering for a God that’s seemed to forgotten the planet he once imagined into being. What would you choose? Man, this Gemini Full Moon has me dancing all over the ancient corpse of belief.
But do these children even know that they are summoning the ancient ghosts of Babylon to rise up and incarnate the empty shells of their broken hearts? I seriously doubt it and even if they did, I bet that they, “wouldn’t give a fuck.”
DANCES WITH OMEGA WOLVES
I’ve always loved wolves. In fact, I even lived with a couple for a few months. One was a pure Arctic female named, “Pearly” the other was a 85% Timber named, “Pete.” I used to rough house and play with them long before Kevin Costner danced with them on the silver screen. For a very brief time, they felt like kin. Over the past few weeks, I’ve been ruminating on DHS’s alert that we could be seeing the rise of “lone wolf” terrorists, not aligned with any supposed terror cell. I wondered how do wolves become lone wolves? Given that there might actually be lone wolf terrorists. Then I discovered the Omega Wolf.
The Omega Wolf is the wolf that is the lowest in the pack and pecking order. They are usually the scapegoat of the Beta Wolves; objects of pack derision. But the Omega Wolf performs a vital function and the pack cannot exist without them. They are the clowns, the jesters, the fools, the outsider that diffuses pack tension, resolves conflicts and tends to the psychic needs of the pack. They often eat as well as the Alphas as a result. They are both shat on and respected. Occasionally though, they are chased out by their pack, ostracized for some perceived imperfection in their genetic code or a serious lack of extra food available. Thus the Omega becomes the lone wolf, forced out from the pack to find its way in the wilderness. Alone.
This is by no means a death sentence for the Omega and in fact, if they find a female to mate with (and they do), they can actually start a whole new pack, and then the Omega becomes the Alpha. There’s no guarantees, but its a better shot at a meaningful existence, than getting constantly hassled by a bunch of toothy Betas. In essence, the Omega Wolf is the fool. The Omega Wolf has within it the seed for new beginnings. The Fool is the 0 card in tarot. 0mega.
When DHS starts talking about “lone wolves” what we’re really talking about are Omega Wolves that have been pushed out of their packs, both local and collectively. As the middle gets squeezed, our version of Omega Wolves populate the peripheries of our society and here is where the genesis of new beginnings can take root. If the pack was happy and healthy, you’d have less Omegas on the roam, because you know that when herds get thin, they’re the first to go. With a faltering and crooked economy, no matter what the unemployment numbers say, more and more people are toiling on the edges. In essence the same system that is condemning the culture of lone wolfishness is having a distinct hand in creating them.
Looping it back to the beginning, one of the more popular figures that’s emerging in hip hop, is Tyler The Creator, whom I’ve written about before. What’s the name of his his group? Wolf Gang. They’re a generation of Omegas pushed out and abandoned by adults that abdicated their responsibilities and put their lives on automatic pilot in the final fumes of the American Dream, going up in smoke.
It was revelatory to come to understand the importance and dignity of the Omega Wolf, because I am he and I am not ashamed to say it. Forced out of the mainstream of the pack I roam the ranges of my life, ducking into the vast plains of the cyber wilderness, running with an invisible pack of souls, howling at a shadowy Gemini Moon on a crisp winter night.
Here’s a trailer for Whitley Strieber’s “Wolfen” starring Albert Finney, Edward James Olmos and the late, great, Gregory Hines. What’s fascinating is the sub plot of terrorists going after corporate executives juxtaposed against a race of supernatural wolves that devour the spiritual and physically diseased members of society. Hmmmmm.
Sometimes realities merge with blinding clarity. Other times, there are fuzzy overlaps that induce eternal chuckles of delight. Occasionally they intersect with forehead smacking irony. I think I’ve just stumbled upon one of the latter.
Over the years, I’ve hung out with channels, consorted with friends and lovers directed by guides and master teachers. I’m pretty convinced that the closest I ever got to realizing such an etheric fraternity was being initiated into astral travel, rather violently, by the spirit of Ernest Hemingway. But I have little doubt that I am in touch with agencies far beyond my mortal ken, or I could not do what I do when I read for people. I am always amazed by the process and the soul dialog that ensues between myself and a client. But this is no high falutin’ discourse on the esoteric exchange of thought into matter, and yet some sublime hidden hand pointed me towards a metaphysical revelation that had me in hysterics. It involves none other than Jeff Bridges, birthday boy, Sagittarian; The Dude.
For some reason, I stopped everything I was doing the other night and re-watched “The Big Lebowski.” I wanted to see if the Coen Brothers were really just indulging in a So-Cal, BOHO, picaresque. In essence, was there anything deeper going on beneath the frothy head of a White Russian?
First off, from a strict astrological perspective The Dude is Sag. He’s avuncular, free-spirited, sloppy, non-judgmental, stony, whimsically ironic, philosophical and even political, sort of. In the true spirit of Sag, he fucks up, falls, and somehow lands on his wobbly feet again. Just when it looks like he’s toast, providence rescues the Dude, even if its just a temporary respite. Sag Bridges is spot on in his Sag-like practice of the “Tao of Dude.” But then weird layers begin to emerge. I kept asking myself, why would “Maude Lebowski” played by Juilanne Moore, who is also a Sag, born on 12/3, just one day before Bridges, 12/4, want to have The Dude’s child? In a strange bit of synchronistic oddity, their natal sun signs are almost exact. In the film they also share the same last name. Aside from the coincidence of both sun signs, what’s going on with the Lebowski/Lebowski, supposedly non-related birth connection? Are the Coen brothers hinting at the selection process of bloodlines in the Big Lebowski? Is this why Maude/Julianne Moore chooses him? Who is “The Dude” anyway? Read the rest of this entry »
Epiphanies, revelations and syncs abound. The world’s esoteric guts are getting turned inside out. Mercury continues its backward arc in the sign of the centaur. Is it any wonder that the Obama administration just passed a law that lifts a ban on killing horses for meat? This is a ritual slaughter. The horse is symbolic of freedom, the open plains and expansion–all Sag. They are the hoof and heartbeat of America in its most native expression. They were the four leggeds of the first people. The country was literally built on their back until the iron horses replaced them. Open season on them is deeply troubling, not just for their own well being, but what they represent. Mars in Virgo is squaring Mercury in Sag, which accentuates the occasionally ruthless nature of Mars in Virgo (efficiency at all costs). The justification of feeding people versus the ability to roam free gets played out here in the square. Does it seem deliberate? I’ll leave that for you to decide. Staying with the Sag animal theme. . .
BESTIALITY IS BACK!!!
Now that “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” has been abolished, the military just announced in senate Bill 1867, the end to sodomy. Yes, if you are now a member of the armed forces, anal sex is no longer a punishable offense. However, in addition to two consenting adults being able to freely penetrate one another, bestiality, which had also been outlawed is now legal as well. I am not making this up. I wish I was. Mercury Retrograde seems to be taking us right back to Babylon on bullet train with a giant spiked cock on the front and a big fat caboose in the back. Now, I’m sure that in order to ensure sexual freedom in the new army, they wiped the old law out in full, including literally doing it doggie style. Sighhhhh. That’s the least of our problems.
WHO’S THE TARGET?
It truly saddens me to report to you that S 1867 contains deeply troubling language that essentially allows the military to apprehend and detain without due process, for an indeterminate amount of time, anyone considered to be a terror suspect and a risk to safety. The language is incredibly broad and has lots of leeway. Unlike the UK, which has a 28 day detention limit, this bill has none. Passed 93-7, it rests solely on the slumped and heavy shoulders of Barack Obama to stamp veto on it. Will he? Will he? This is a pandora’s box and it comes as no surprise, with thousands of people taking to the streets in OWS protests. Once Osama Bin Laden was ceremonially removed from our consciousness, there had to be a new threat. Its not in some distant land (Sag) its much closer to home (Merc in Sag retro).
Things should get mighty interesting when Uranus goes direct on the 10th, just as the Full Moon in Gemini goes into eclipse mode. Whoa. The Moon is in the USA 7th House on the USA Mars in Gemini. There’s a restlessness there that makes me loosen my tie (if I wore one) just thinking about it. Get your shopping done early. More on the eclipse next week.
Just for shits and giggles, I went back and looked at the year 1867 to see if there was anything interesting went down then. Well, I found a few things.
•African American men get to vote in D.C. •Canada is formed •The Manifest Destiny Treaty was enacted (First peoples moved off their lands) •Das Kaptial was released •Otto von Bismarck forms the North German Confederation
Lots of interesting stuff there. You’ve got the relocation of the native nation, the ideological birth of socialism, the beginnings of the consolidation of German power and the formal aggregation of Canada. Well at least we can be thankful for the latter. My life would be a lot less richer without the likes of Jim Carrey, John Candy, Molsons, Mike Meyers, Leonard Cohen, Kid Koala, Katrina Keough, Jill Sarafin and all my other Canadian friends.
WEEKEND MOON IN PISCES
The power of faith is on tap for the next 48 hours. Even though the Moon will do a little square dance with the Sun and Mercury, squares are the impetus to action. They’re dynamic and stimulate volition. The Moon in Pisces is evocative of great faith and perseverance. Its artistic as hell. Poetic to the core. Its daring you with Sag in the background to make your life into art. To affirm love in the face of oppression and forgive. I can tell you right now, we’re on the verge of miracles. It all depends on you and how much faith you’re willing to channel and anchor. How boldly can you affirm your being in the darkest days of the year? Vesta is getting a lot of press right now. Its big and bodacious, in the final degrees of Aquarius. Vesta is symbolic of the light that is eternal, the never ending flame of wisdom and dare I say, “hope?” Give yourself permission to love and live without fear. Make no excuses and say a little prayer for all of those who are scared and depressed, faithless and lost. Its time for us all to come home now.
The Moon and Venus were just in Capricorn. Venus slowly approaching Pluto. It’s time for us to review where we are with this titanic, monolithic, baphomertic, Plutonian beast now three-years deep into our social DNA . Ironically, I started this blog during the late degrees of Sagittarius, right around 28 degrees, just three degrees off my natal Jupiter and on the cusp of my 2nd House. However, it would be in the early degrees of Pluto in Cap where it would really take off. So in many ways, this blog is intrinsically linked to the goat from the underworld.
Pluto in Cap has been an intense journey into the bowels of my 2nd house. Its dredged up fears about survival and isolation. Early on in Pluto in Cap, I had a lover whose father played pro-football and molested her as a child, the most inviolate aspect of Pluto rising to the surface.
It’s no coincidence that we’re seeing it raise its grotesque countenance amidst the so-called charity of “Second Mile.” Oh yeah, that shit is Pluto in Capricorn. A so called benevolent foundation, right and respectable, giving kids from broken families a chance in life, with a fatherly figure like Jerry Sandusky giving them “hands on” guidance in life. Pluto is the expose of the most unthinkable; Violating young boys, fatherless and desperately looking for direction, acceptance and love.
2nd House is values, the root chakra, the most basic and fundamental issues in the life of the individual. Its where the shadow (Pluto) seeks to interpenetrate the most intimate confines of the soul as it manifests on the material plane. It is also where Pluto lives in the US chart at 28 degrees. Jerry Sandusky, born January 24th, 1944 his Venus is in Capricorn at 9 degrees. Yup. Squaring the progressed U.S. Moon in Libra at 6 degrees, currently conjuncting transiting Pluto. Even though its a ways out this country is going through its Pluto return and we’re starting to get ungodly glimpses at the seamy underbelly of it; sex, corruption and power. Sandusky is a skeleton key to a closet so dark we tremble at the disparity between the world we thought was safe and the one that truly exists. That’s the way it is boys and girls. No escaping it now.
(Editors note. Bernie Fine of Syracuse has just stepped down for being accused by three young men for sexually violating them. Fine is a Capricorn 0 degrees)
The serpents are being exposed to the light. Don’t turn away or we might miss our chance to make it right. You see, enlightenment doesn’t come cheap these days, those well worn affirmations are of little use. Its all about power now. Do you want to take it back or not? You have a choice. This isn’t the time for turning your other butt cheek. There are people playing a high stakes game of no limit hold’em with your future and your children’s future, and you’re not even aware that you’re at the table or if you are, you might have a shitty hand. You’ve gotta play it anyway. Look, if you want to be here now, you’ve gotta commit to the process from your core. Read the rest of this entry »
“Turning and turning in the widening gyre The falcon cannot hear the falconer; Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold; Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world, The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere The ceremony of innocence is drowned; the best lack all conviction, while the worst Are full of passionate intensity.”
That’s Yeats up there, time traveling on the wings of the Golden Dawn. Yeats of course was a member of A.E. Waite’s spiritualist click. His wife a channel. He wrote “A Vision” which is essentially a notebook of his wife’s medium sessions. A work that confounded followers and critics alike. But I digress. The Second Coming is at hand, or so it seems. The laws of Newtonian physics are kicking in. One side pushes and the other pushes back, until the pushing escalates into all out conflict in the streets.
In anarchy and chaos, there is no time. History is erased in the frenzy of the moment. Crisis eliminates the linear perspective. Chaos eviscerates all that has gone before it. It is the splitting of the social and historical atom. We’re rapidly approaching the chaotic flashpoint in the event horizon. We’re being sucked in at neutrino speeds by McKenna’s strange attractor at the end of time. Just wait until Uranus goes direct in December on 12/10/11 on the Gemini full lunar eclipse. But in the frenzied rush to make it right, hit the re-set, start over, invocation ov chaos, etc., you might want to take a few, deep, breaths before you start spinning off into the next dust devil of change. All is not what it appears to be in the land of a thousand trances.
For the next 1500 words or so, I’m the guy that’s going to be peeing in the punch bowl just a little. It’s Mars in Virgo–can’t help it. I’ll be dissecting “Thrive” released on 11/11/11 when Neptune was in Aquarius at 28 degrees. “Thrive” is the new wake-up-call, a truth-buzz produced by James Foster Gamble, scion of the Procter and Gamble fortune. Let me just say that trying to find anything on Foster Gamble, other than “Thrive” related material is nearly impossible. That in and of itself raises my Spock-like brow just little. BTW, isn’t Spock the archetype for Virgo? One of the only things that I could track down on Gamble was a story in the S.F. Gate from 1995, where he supported the rabid one-worlder, Jim Garrison. Garrison was an ideologue that tapped into a donor base of rich kids from elite families. He called them, “donuts” his code for “do nothings.” Read the rest of this entry »
2013 is going to be a major year and I am looking forward to continuing to bring you compelling radio content along with a synchromesh of astrology, symbolism, political awareness and free thought here at the website. Any contributions to help me keep my basic expenses paid are greatly appreciated. Robert
My English doppelganger, Darren Williams, delivers angles, asides and observations from his perch in LIverpool. Darren is a two of clubs as am I (the conversation card) and hails from where my grandmother was born and raised. Darren's observations from the world of sport, esoterica, music, the BBC and film are top notch.
NEW FROM DARREN WILLIAMS--DECODING THE MIRROR To read more, CLICK HERE.
FREE ASSOCIATION RADIO
Here are some past episodes from my various programs on Free Association Radio. These are interviews with some of the leading edge thinkers on the planet, from the realms of quantum healing, ancient mysteries, exo-politics, astrology and consciousness.
David Ian Cowan (Navigating The Collapse Of Time) and Sarah Nash (The Cosmic Hooker): Quantum Healing.