Pluto In Sag Kids, Jaden And Willow Smith And Saira Blair Arrive On Time As Saturn Moves Into Sag

130114-jaden-willow-smithIt’s time for Pluto in Sag kids

As Saturn moves into Sagittarius, we’re starting to pick up signals already, as the Pluto in Sag children are beginning to make themselves known. Saira Blair, just 18, Cancer Sun (July 11th) was born with Pluto in Sag at 0 degrees retrograde, which is significant, since Miss Blair was not only recently elected to the West Virginia legislature, making her the youngest elected official in the USA, but also illustrates a return (retrograde) to more conservative values. With her True Node in Libra, she was elected during her nodal return. Balance, justice and equality are the elements that she will aspire towards. However, she will be tested over the course of the next five years as Saturn will oppose her Venus and Mars conjunction in Gemini. Saturn is the old guard in opposition to her Gemini youth. This could be a difficult phase for her as she will feel too old for her peers and too young for her colleagues. Then, when Saturn transits into Capricorn, it will oppose her Sun and Mercury in the sign of the crab. This will be the confrontation of institutional forces, the old guard again, the oligarchy confronting her conservative (Cancerian) values. With Jupiter in Capricorn will she allow herself to be bought and sold or will she buck the system?

Then there’s Jaden and Willow Smith’s now infamous interview where the talk about time travel, slowing down time, the dreariness and drudgery of school. This is what happens when you’re raised by a high priestess of Scientology, and a devoted follower of Pablo Coelho. Their ideas were interpreted by a university professor of philosophy. The results were quite interesting as he related their concepts to ideas by Descartes and Du Bois. While most of the world was scratching their heads, he was able to decode their obtuse abstractions. This will be one of the hallmarks of this generation as they evolve unusual theories and transformational philosophies. These are the kids of the big idea and as Blair has shown, also the big ideal. They’re just getting started.

Mars and Saturn Conjunction, Living In The World But Not Of It

Your reason is blind.

I’m on Facebook again. I can’t help it and I’m deleting friends like Idi Amin on a bad day. Mars and Saturn are taking turns whomping on my Venus in Libra and the pressure has to go somewhere, exerting itself on the hapless, whose comments, pictures and posts I can no longer look at.

There’s the rake from Southern California, who can’t seem to commit to the revolution due to his latest Bacchanalian diversion. I can’t stomach the dilettantish self mythologizing any longer. He’s gone. Then there’s the sadsack liberal friend from Sacto who might be the best writer I know, who can’t seem to extract himself from his pomo-liberal-victim-blues narrative–yeah I know you were raised in Berkeley, but you live in the central valley for fuck’s sake. Gone. Then there’s the friend from another board who chimed in on my sarcastic posts about Obamacare with a pious, “Well Ron Paul and Mitt Romney would let that person die on an ice floe.” I don’t need no tit-for-tat on that thread, since you are still entangled in your web of Hegelian dialectic. Let me cut you loose. Gone. Thats the way its been today. Mars conjunct Saturn. No more patience.

And yet, I realize that they are all me. Yep, each one of them. They’re all contrarians in their own way, trying to find some semblance of balance in a chaotic universe. They’re iconoclasts and yet I just couldn’t sit there and watch it anymore, I had to perform hari-kari to those parts of me. Sayonara.

Three weeks ago, my son fell off a horse at camp. He told me that he had a dream about falling off a horse and the horse trampling over him. Since I am an intuitive sort and I do this thing for a living, I told his mom about this and “gently” suggested that he do something different, especially if he wasn’t into it. Her response? “Well, maybe he should get back on the horse? I think it’s good for him.” Three weeks and three falls later, he broke his leg on a horse, after falling off.

Maybe this is why my patience was so short with the itinerant parts of me on FB. Finding balance in the maelstrom is the art of the Silver Surfer shooting the temporal tube in the turgid waves of the end times.

The comments on my last post were conspicuously absent, though I had friends tell me that they couldn’t read my blog anymore or that I was a big, fat battery for the dark forces. I know that I have a responsibility to people. Its hard-wired into my matrix. I shock people occasionally though. I’ll never forget when I realized this.

I was working at a restaurant in Olympia, Washington and I was having a typically shitty restaurant day. I snapped at the line cook, who looked like I had just stabbed him in the heart with a butter knife. He couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that I would say something cutting and well, not nice. He felt betrayed. It took me days to talk him off that ledge. We eventually got there.

Its funny, I stayed away from the closing ceremonies of The Olympics, not dipping into a play-by-play and symbolic breakdown, but instead, I went for something bigger, trying to understand and decode the knots of illusion in a cinematrix reality where dimensions and actors bleed through on multiple levels.

The message I got was loud and clear. The edge and the abyss were too dark. Too ominous. People need hope–that’s exactly what Axelrod and Plouffe knew as they cynically exploited it in cascading levels of NLP, culminating in a mile-high-ritual of epic proportion.

I get it, and I don’t want to lose the room. We have too much at stake.

One night, I was at Burning Man and I was in one of those brilliant, temporary discos that rise out of the playa like some mirror ball mirage, dark and strobing against all thought and endless night. There was a DJ who kept speeding up the beats until he emptied the dance floor. He didn’t care. That was his maniacal moment, fueled on meth and jamming the frequency at 150 BPM, half-a-century above and beyond the comfort zone of the human heart.

I walked up to him and told him about what he was doing. His response? He just jacked up the jackboot beats and said nothing.

I don’t want to be that guy.

Last night, I had a dream. I was in a great river that emptied into a lake. It was crystal blue and virgin water the way it was, in its most pristine state. For some reason, I had a dog and it had fled into the hills. I had to let it go. There was my computer on the river bank, encased in its satchel. Naked, I grabbed and thrust it over my head like a soldier would hoist his rifle above him and walked towards the edge of the river. I remember the weight of the computer–it was almost unbearable–I made it to the other side.

For me, the dream symbolized the abandonment of my instincts (dog) in favor of the mind (computer) as I navigated the floes of emotion (river). The meaning wasn’t lost on me.

In many ways, that’s what the current Mars/Saturn conjunction in Libra means. We need to stay close to our instincts (Mars) while honoring the logos of patience manifest in Saturn.

Talk about a balancing act!

This epic conjunction challenges us to find short AND long term solutions to achieving balance in our lives. You can’t be too rash and yet you can’t let losers squat on your dreams while you continue to justify their stultifying presence. A radical balance must be achieved. But how? To what end?

The key is equanimity and finding it in this conjunction. If you go a bit far, that’s okay, you can reel it in. Look, the world is a hard place right now, there’s no denying it, but you’ve got to live in it, not of it. This is the codex to the Mars/Saturn conjunction and the beauty of it is that you cannot detach. Nope, it doesn’t work that way. You have to wrestle with “time” and “will” and if you play nice (Libra) that’s cool, but remember, its about achieving balance and sometimes, well, you gotta go just a little overboard to get there.

New Moon on Friday. I’ll be writing about it with my new found optimism, snatched from the jaw of Molech’s sinister maw.

Split Personalities And Twin Flames, The First Episode Of Phoenix Rising On Webtalk Radio

Reflections On Psyche

Saturn in Libra has been an active and dynamic exercise in balance, finding equanimity and re-memebering who are in relationship and larger social orders and systems

I’m pleased to announce my inaugural podcast on Webtalk Radio; “Phoenix Rising.” In this episode, I’m looking at “Split Personalities and Twin Flames.” Listen in as I get into the heads of young women getting ready to get their groove on with the raunchy and illuminated Ke$ha. Then, I explore the concept of twin flames with Zula Zule, author, healer and Pleiadian emissary. Its a trip into the psyches and spirits of two generations of feminine expression looking to lose themselves and find the other.


The Saturn Chronicles Part One; Learning To Love Limitation

The Dawn Of Awareness Is Rising On Saturn

I’ve been wanting to give people a sense of what going through a Saturn, a major Saturn transit is like for a while, so I have decided to pull back the veil on my life and give you some insight into the wonder workings of Chronos aka Saturn as an ongoing serial, known as “The Saturn Chronicles.”

This is the first installment.

Learning to love Saturn is one of the hardest lesson any of us can undertake and experience in the practice and art of astrology. Saturn is often compared to a beast, in that when we are in a deep Saturn cycle, it always seems to be bearing down on us, relentless and driven in its pursuit to extract what Saturn demands; “Responsibility.” We can see this on the macro level, with Pluto in Capricorn right now. Capricorn, an agent of Saturn is forcing people, through attrition, to take back their lives. Here in the U.S. we got fat and complacent on cheap money (credit) and cheap goods (China). We were lulled into a false sense of complacency while our economic future was being hijacked from under our noses. Now people are waking up under the intensity of Pluto in Capricorn, bouncing off Uranus in Aries. Whether astroturfed or synthetically manipulated, OWS is a manifestation of the awakening. But I’m not here to pontificate on the collective awakening. I’m here to share my own version of it.

Shifting from a Dionysian to an Apollonian being is not easy–especially at mid-life. It’s been nearly four months since I eschewed alcohol and while the upside is better sleep, more hydration and lucid thinking, the downside is losing the escape into fugue states and light trance, the easy camaraderie of casual drinking at the pub down the street, getting loose, cracking jokes and shouting at the world. Then there’s always that strange and synchronistic moment that pops through and all of a sudden the buzz takes on surreal proportions, stories emerge, intoxicated parables spoken is slippery tongues dance from stool-to-stool, sacred and profane, straight out of some J.P. Donleavey picaresque, American and post modern of course. In that fluid and lubricated state its easy to dance between worlds, slip through the cracks of self-censure and ignore the enormity of other parts of ones life left un-attended. That’s the beauty of the Dionysian effect. There is no tomorrow, only the moment, rolling and endless until about 1AM.

I was not a heavy drinker. I could nurse a couple of pints of Guiness for a few hours. For me, the act of drinking was woven together with company, being out, seeing familiar and new faces. I spend a great deal of time alone, writing, thinking, pondering, researching where we’re going and how I will communicate it with the rest of the world. Its an isolating experience at times and the respite wasn’t just in the frothy, mocha colored head of a cold Guiness, but in the human contact and connection of others. But I noticed I was paying more and more time and attention to wanting those moments. Slipping out earlier, catching the Happy Hour and staying well past it. It was mollifying and medicating. It got me through and yet, it felt like I was caught in a whirlpool of inertia, the kind of vortex that conjures up Bill Murray, caught in a web of Samsara in “Groundhog Day.” Something had to change.


Saturn has been transiting my 11th House, touching the Moon, Mercury and Venus, while squaring my natal Saturn in of course Capricorn. It rattled my world. My emotions seemed frozen. It had been nearly two years since my marriage ended and the feelings of exile were piling up while I sought to bury them and a morbid economic state in a myriad of confused connections. and irresponsible relating. I’ve written about this previously and won’t go into great detail, but I was looking for something to propel myself out of the crippling spell of feeling stuck.

I had been continually frustrated by the lack of support that I had perceived from the universe in regards to my website and radio show. Somewhere, just beneath the surface, I was watering poison seeds of resentment, that I “should” be more successful. That I “should” be able to pay my bills by doing what I love. I reached out to friends with money and products to sell to see if they would work with me and they declined, for various reasons. I took it personally and was getting hardened. It spilled over into my emotional life.

Alcohol impacts the liver and kidneys and in Chinese medicine, both organs are incredibly important when it comes to dealing with anger, life force, Chi, etc. I was short circuiting my ability to deal with these complex emotional states by drinking. Not only that, but my kidneys (Saturn/Libra) were constantly sore and aching. From an emotional and physical perspective, I had to stop. What I was attempting to do was far too important.

Its been nearly four months and I do not miss alcohol. I occasionally miss the woozy connections and the kismetic clinking of glasses through the air, but little else. I’m locked away and in on making this website and my radio experience work. Saturn on my Venus yields pressure from my ex; “Get a job at Starbucks” she says. My reflexive rage gets triggered. I saw my father fritter away his life in favor of hobbies and nice cars, sacrificing any real risk on discovering who he was in the world in favor of downtime and an endless stream of pass times. Legacies are the only thing we have and leave at the end of a life and I was never comfortable with what my father didn’t do in the world. My ex may not understand this, but I feel like its vital that my son know and understand what I do. So I have deleted the easy outs and quick escape. I’m staring down the challenge of Saturn, born into Pluto in Virgo, making a stand for meaningful work and legacy in the face of collapsing systems and time, hoping that someday, he gets it and that I can make it work and show him that you can do what you love. There may be sacrifices, but this is the lesson of Saturn. Obviously, its just the beginning,

Occupy Wall Street Part Two, Brooklyn Bridge March, Changing Political Skies, Upcoming Jupiter/Sun Opposition

Is It Too Late?

The Moon had just moved into Sag–not quite conjunct my Jupiter–but close enough to cast some synchronistic magic and medium strangeness on the day. Lawrence, The Water Wizard and I snaked through the streets of uptown Manhattan, choked off by a food festival hunkered down in mid-town, with the highly ironic and dubious title; “Eat and Drink To End Hunger.” Miraculously, the whims of the great and tempestuous Garmin tossed us five blocks west of Broadway down into the belly of the bull, with the sweetest of blessings there could ever be in Manhattan; An un-metered and open parking spot.

From there, we packed up and headed down to ground zero, for “Occupy Wall St.”

The energy was much different than it was on the 29th. The numbers had swelled considerably. The hard rains of the night before which had doused game one of Yankees/Tigers playoff series brought out the tarps in “Occupation City.” In three days, it seemed to have gone from a cozy bed-in, to a full blown encampment. The square was packed and the vibe was decidedly more edgy. Maybe it was the early degrees of the Sag Moon. Maybe it was the Mars/Jupiter square, but the crowd seemed ready for action.

The calm and steady call and response form earlier in the week had been replaced by shouts and chants, calls to action. It had turned into an edgy yet optimistic, pep-revolutiion-rally. Little did we know that we had stepped into the final moments of the motivational phase of the days events, leading into a march, through the streets of lower Manhattan, to Brooklyn Bridge park.

There was easily a thousand people with signs and slogans, chanting for economic equality and reform. The socialists were out in force, toting very professional looking signs, the kind of signs that tells you that they’ve done this sort of thing before. It got me to thinking that this event and those like it, which are sprouting up like fungi across the country, are perfect for “The Left’s” equivalent to the Tea Party; grass rootsy and a tonic for Obama’s reneged upon vision and commitment to social change. If I were George Soros, I’d be sending the ground troops in to do an end around on the administration and continue to move towards the proto-fascist version of socialism, that is, to a large extent, Pluto in Capricorn (this is now happening).

The astro-turfing of the “99% solution” is something I talked about in my last post, which unsurprisingly, did not go unnoticed by the likes of Webster Tarpley andWayne Madsen. Now Alex Jones is all over it as well.

Within two hours, 700 of the marchers would be arrested on the Brooklyn Bridge, trapped in of all things, a net. We had chosen to stay behind and get more of a feel for what was taking place.

Shortly after we arrived at the square. I met and spoke with Ted Schulman of earthflo, who had just launched a site and service for personal servers that are also radio transmitters that can link up with other personal servers and thus form an autonomous network, which could still function as a viable alternative to the internet, should it ever go down. We talked about the Brown Brothers, Berriman and HSBC buildings right across from us and how both companies played key roles in funding the Third Reich in WW2. Ted has some very interesting clients like, Disney, IBM, Solomon Brothers and Lucent/Rockefeller. No wonder he wants an ideologically free revolution. A phalanx of NYPD blue stood semi-vigilant in front of the entrance of Brown Brothers, Berriman, securing the perimeter for the money masters.

From a geometrical standpoint, we could easily see the T-Square, demonstrated in physical space. On the west side of the square, across the street, there was a Wikileaks truck parked. It had been there since Wednesday. This felt a lot like The Libra stellium of the past few days, symbolizing the act of bringing information into balance, with a quote-un-quote, a large dose of “fairness.” Across the square, on the other side, was the bulk of NYPD’s security set up, replete with an observation tower, 360 degree surveillance, and a battery of vehicles. The inclusion of the portable tower, in addition to all of the rest of the gear, to me, really felt like Uranus in Aries, high tech gear (Uranus) in the service of the centurion (Aries). At a ninety-degree angle to each, across the square, were NYPD police, guarding the aforementioned Brown/Berriman building (Pluto in Capricorn). It was the t-square, come to life.

In the vacuum of the disassembled and soon to be trapped marchers, a different voice emerged. Gone was the strident shouting reminiscent of SDS and one-by-one, voices, singing, rapping and rhyming began to rise. It started with an old vet of the acid wars, blowing a mean harp, accompanying himself with a ukulele. Across the square a rapper began to freestyle, then an acoustic guitarist chimed in, then another rapper. They tag teamed and rhymed about social change, dropping references to ground zero and 911, spinning off into aspiration and optimism, words for a better day. Their styles were as different as their skin tones; one dark and smooth, the other ragged and pale and yet it worked.

At some point the tempo shifted, other voices joined in and began to sing. A young guy in a suit jacket, dark hair, neat sideburns, maybe polynesian, maybe fillipino, soulfully and skillfully led the growing crowd deeper and deeper into song. I thought to myself, this is how it could be; one voice into many. The change wasn’t on the bridge, where people were trapped in a web, caught between here and there, it was back in the square, where strangers sang unfamiliar songs, improvisationally woven from the heart.

In the very center of the square was the media center, four laptops, tracking and creating the live feed in real time. Behind each screen sat a very-serious twenty something, channeling the flow of images and data, filtering the input for the feed. It was there that the news was broadcast about the arrests on the bridge. We heard the details spoken and repeated back to us. Almost everyone that we saw march off, just over an hour before, were now in the midst of being processed by the system.

The weather had really turned. These people, the ones committed to staying there are facing ever more inhospitable conditions. There’s also a question as to how long Bloomberg will let this go on. By days end, a group of fifteen Marines were on their way to “protect” the protesters. I had no idea what to make of this, Its either some weirdly extreme and promising manifestation of Uranus in Aries, or it’s Neptune in Chiron, feigning care, while neatly inserting themselves into the movement, without protestation. Commercial pilots had shown up in uniform to support the protest.

An oddly synchronistic event occurred at one point around the Code Pink table. I heard a guy talking about politics and astrology. Lo and behold, it was Eric Francis. One of my readers said that he struck her as East Coast version of me. Here we were, from across a continent, comparing notes on these changing times. I was not in the least surprised that he was there as it seemed like a cosmic set up, that a swelling Sag Moon would conspire to be a part of.

As the Sun retreated further into the western skies, the temperature was dropping into zones not kind to urban campers. There’s no telling how long this group will hold the line, but the idea is breaking now. Its happening all over the USAs I mentioned earlier, other people in other parts of the country are assembling. My bon-vivant bud, Capt. Rob in L.A. called me earlier in the day to tell me about “Occupy L.A.” It would give me great pleasure if they chose Disneyland or Universal Studios for their beachhead though, for somewhat obvious reasons if you follow this blog. At some point, the entertainment industry is going to feel the heat as well. I am seeing that when Saturn shifts into Scorpio and people start really digging down beneath the surface of things, getting their nails dirty, they’ll be unearthing Babylon’s soiled contribution to keeping us buried in a shallow grave of awareness.

As I type these words at 30,000 feet, flying my way back home, I keep wondering where this will all go. Is it a post-modern movement that Ted Schulman claims it will be, removed from ideology, where it won’t matter who comes aboard or what their agenda is? Will it all be that organic and self-assembling? Or will it succumb to the weight of top-down gatekeepers, using their influence to steer the herd into large holding pens, convinced that they are still free rangers, while snatching the agenda right out of their hands, just as it happened to the Tea Party?

Its happening fast now and it seems to be tracking alongside of Bernanke’s troubling reports that the recovery could be slowed by Europe’s continued financial crisis. Stocks are falling. Gold is dropping. There’s hundreds of millions being bet on the S&P to short deeply in October. Oh yeah, “Anonymous” is threatening to shut down the NYSE on 10/10/11. It seems like the perfect storm is brewing. Its October–no surprise. So what are the potential outcomes here? Let’s list them. Shall we?

1)The big bad wolves of Wall St. and the global money masters using economy as a weapon, get spooked by the awakening masses, have a change of heart about their ponzi scheme, forgive the debt, hug and kiss everyone, shake hands and take Ron Paul out for a Reuben and cream soda to pick his brains for the new global economy.

2) The same group gets very antsy and doesn’t dig the uppity tude coming up from the streets, goes into full-court-press mode and convinces TPTB to roll out the heavy artillery and nip this in the bud, if they do, its an endgame scenario. Martial law. Executive orders.

3) There will be a lot of spin doctoring going on in the media, confusing people in an already confusing forum, where free market libertarians are swapping magic markers with social progressives while 911 truthers, anti-war marchers and green warriors assemble on the periphery. The MSM will keep the confusion going for as long as it takes to insert a very public figure to become the mouthpiece for the 99% and try to bring it into the mainstream, rounding off the edges and shaping it into something like Obama 2.0. I wonder what Matt Damon is doing these days?

Or it could just fizzle and die due to cold weather, but somehow, I doubt this is going to happen. A lot of the Libra planets we’re seeing now will shift into Scorpio and we’ll be dealing with some fixed square/opposition energy with Sun//Mercury/Venus/Mars/Jupiter as opposed to the cardinal T-Square energy, which initiated this stage of whatever “Occupy” is.

The fixity will take place most intensely on 10/29. Venus and Merc in Scorpio will be in a tight square with Mars in Leo. Mars in Leo is royalty and the application of will as some sort of divine right. Mars in Leo is about decrees. Scorpio is about other peoples resources, power, plummeting to the depths, and in Mercury’s case, seeing whats behind the curtain. The Sun in Scorpio opposes Jupiter in Taurus that day, direct at 5 degrees. Jupiter will be retrograde, which means to me, a massive retreat of the market. The Sun wants to dominate and control. In a perfect world, we could all burn our credit cards, sing kumbaya and hit the reset button under those conditions. But it feels more like power struggles and in these fixed signs, entrenched. Death is a keyword for Scorpio. Keep that in mind.

To view more pictures from my walkabout on Wall St; Go Here.

Wall Street Ground Zero, A Personal View, Massive Cardinal T-Square Off In Action

America in contrast.

I was at Ground Zero on Wall Street yesterday. Though it might be a bit pre-mature, I felt like I was witness to history in the making. In a square, not far from where “The One World Trade Center” is erupting into the sky, a ragtag group of old and young, left and right, black, white and variant shades in between were assembling into some sort of vastly intelligent and hyper-cooperative entity. I was struck by the raw, primal, tribal, yet highly cordial immediacy of it.

At the center of it all was a space carved out for speakers to address the crowd. They would say a line and the entire crowd would repeat it, word for word, so that everyone could hear what was being said without amplification. This method of conscious mimicry arose when early on, as dissenters and agent provocateurs began heckling and shouting down the speakers. The crowd simply responded by creating a conduit of voices to speak over them. The event hackers have since dispersed.

In just eleven days, a tent city (without tents) has sprouted up from the cracks. The food situation has evolved from pyramids of peanut butter jars, to a full blown kitchen, feeding and supporting the crowd. They now have their own media center and a live feed of the event, (not covered by the mainstream news) which can be witnessed, 24/7. The call and response to the outside world has been revelatory at times. Word goes out over Twitter or the live feed channel that people are hungry and within 20 minutes pizzas magically manifest. Drummers bang out a steady beat on the periphery of the square. They’re the drums of war, the human heartbeat of change, the pulse of creation itself, rising up from the concrete jungle, where fortunes and futures are stalked and hunted down like lunch on a daily basis. Something big is afoot. People are waking up in the middle of an intense T-Square between an army of planets in Libra (Sun, Moon, Merc, Venus and Saturn), Uranus in Aries and Pluto in Scorpio. It’s a perfect storm.

Libra wants fairness and accountability. Libra wants equilibrium and justice for all. Uranus in Aries is opposing most of those planets. Saying Uranus in Aries is a mixed bag, is like saying Lady Gaga has a penchant for obsessive, self-promotion. Uranus in Aries is instant war (just add some powdered nuclear fission and shake well) as well as radical uses of technology to rapidly awaken the masses. Twitter was touted in the decidedly mixed color revolutions of this past Spring and Summer. That’s Uranus in Aries in action. Power to the people in 140 characters or less. Well, more or less. You get my drift. Uranus in Aries is also the unsteady moorings of all those nuke plants curiously placed on fault lines or at the mouth of the great mother ocean. It’s genius in the blink of an eye and destruction at the shrug of Atlas, twisted and torqued by sub sonic frequencies and artificial interference.

The key to this opposition is to integrate both energies. All that Libra is just heartfelt sentiment and frustration in the void without anyone to witness it. And here you are, right now, availing yourself of the instant reportage, brought to you by our sponsors at Uranus in Aries. U in A needs the human conduit to organically tap into its fierce, synthetic array. In Blakean terms, its the “Marriage Of Heaven And Hell.” The there’s Pluto in Capricorn, the third part of this dynamic trinity.

Pluto in Capricorn is the rise of the corporatocracy. Its TARP. Its the dismal and likely scandalous failure of Solyndra, the abandoned love child of the Obama administration, now being subpoenaed and combed over by by investigators. Its the unholy fusion of big business and big government. Its “The Beast.” The pressure on Pluto in Capricorn is being exerted from the wings, bearing down on it, forcing to react like a senseless machine. Anthony Bologna, a NYPD sergeant detective was caught on video sadistically macing an unsuspecting and non-confrontational woman. This might be the squirt heard round the world.

Within 24 hours, Anonymous had posted every detail about Bologna’s life, including his kids, their schools, etc.. I’m not sure how I feel about this. We take zealous umbrage when the all-seeing-eye invades our privacy, are we not a lesser version when we do the same to a psychopathic pawn in the game? Might it not be better served by taking that kind disclosure up about a dozen levels?

The night before, over dinner, we tossed around the merits and demerits about undressing the personal details of Officer Bologna’s life. My pal Mark, “The Trotsky Of Howard Street” rasped in his mephostophilian, tobacco-scorched, South Africanese, “Its all about turning the tables man, we can’t have true freedom without true force.” He cackled after he took a swig of his Stella, “We’ve got to take it to the man!” I felt like it was 1969 (even though I was only nine). But that’s Libra hooking up Aries, squaring off against Pluto in Capricorn.

Speaking of South Africans, one of my long time readers, Diastella just sent me a comment about my last post on “Quantum Peace.” Here is what she said in response to idealistic Americans; “I am disturbed that these very sweet and beautiful Americans that I am meeting can be part of such a ruthless and mindless destruction of innocents. Is it because the enemy is invisible? There is no target? Aaaarrrrggghhhh.” Well I can honestly say that that notion of America and its passive genuflections on the benign nature of the universe is transforming. Wall Street and what’s happening there is indicative of that. I found people sucked into that vortex that days ago were just curious passers bye and now they’re staging open mics, or attending spontaneous workshops erupting on the periphery. But the amazing thing is, is that this isn’t just money and the economy people are TALKING about, in real time, face-to-face fashion, they’re breaking down Monsanto, GMOs, 9/11, endless war, homelessness, its all on the table, or rather on the square.

America seems to be finally waking up from a long, extended state of collective somnambulance. Its awkward and in its own way, uniquely American. The feeling at Ground Zero was anything but grim. It was urgent, alert, a little edgy, but not grim. A cheery 18 year-old-girl I met had been camped out there from day one. Burdened by 10K in student loans in her first semester of college, she knew that the game was rigged and she would be paying it off for years after graduating, if she could even find a job. Undeterred, she goes to class in the day, while a friend holds down the mattress and she returns at night, while doing it with a sort of ebullience that only youth can deliver in the collapse of empire. If she were my kid, I’d be pretty damned proud of her.

But here comes the caveat moment. A lot of people coming to this are very new. They’re getting their heads cracked open (in a good way) for the first time. Its vital that they get good, solid, clear info. Enthusiastic chaos is the perfect state to insert new (diluted/deluded) programming to the unsuspecting. Identifying the “one percent” is just the start. We’ll need to get more specific on many fronts, if we want to bootstrap the planet from the center of our hearts.

Just down the street from Ground Zero, is Trinity Church. You might recognize it from Nick Cage’s symbolic orgy, “National Treasure” with its catacombs, secret chambers and iconic relics. Trinity was “gifted” to New York by King William III for a purported thirty bushels of wheat. Its currently undergoing a renovation. Its slogan, “A Church For The New World.” They may as well tear that sign down. The real church of “The New World” is down the block and has no walls. The holy sacrament is pizza. The liturgy is the assembled voices of the defiant, the dispossessed, the devout and the determined, chanted again and again and again. The sacred music is the relentless yet loving heartbeat of the mother, beaten on plastic buckets and exotic drums. I was just there and I gotta tell you, I felt the holy spirit.

You can watch the live feed of Wall Street, HERE.