Gerbil in the cookie jar

gerbil in the cookie jarBefore you start stuffing your face with melting moments Gerbil, allow me to introduce you to one of these gorgeous cookies you’re about to devour.

She’s an Aquarian Sun sign with a Moon in Gemini. That’s a heady mix, mate!

You’ll need to be on your toes with this one, Gerbil.  I bet she let you know she was interested.  Ears pricked, blood rushing to your head…

Aquarian females are well versed in such things, or so I’ve heard and with the Moon in Gemini, she would be more than likely to tell you a load of ‘porky-pies’ if it meant getting you in the sack.  Did you know that, Gerbil?

She wasn’t after your brain mate, but then neither were you.  This was not brain surgery you two had on the agenda now, was it?

Hang on! What about the cheese and kisses, Gerbil? I doubt the thought of wife and daughters entered your head with your fist stuck in the cookie jar. Loyalty and fidelity are not your catch-cry obviously; not this Aquarian’s either, it seems.

Astrology tells me that this sheila would be too much hard work on a full-time basis mate; never shuts up; always looking for stimulating conversation in areas way beyond your dumb ass and… needy.   Needy! Don’t get me started, it’s exhausting just looking at her chart.

Got you all excited at first though didn’t she?  She knew which buttons to press and you wanted to fill those needs of hers, didn’t you?  Fill ‘em to the brim and then more…

Venice Carnival. Free picture for your blog or website.Keep her as a mistress mate or park her somewhere and drag her out when you need a rumble in the jungle or whatever role-play you’ve agreed on for that day and keep clear of that arty-farty stuff she keeps going on about; she’s way too high-brow for you, Gerbil.

Maybe give her a gold jacket to match yours. Oh and make sure that she keeps her eye on the job at hand. That’s the way to go; give her a gold jacket and a desk of her own.

So let’s start the business of taking the mask off the gorgeous girl; draw up an astrological analysis of one of Gerbil’s cookies.  I think we shall call her Pussy Galore, what do you reckon?  (Pussy Galore was the Bond girl in Goldfinger.)

Our Pussy’s got Mercury right on the ascendant; ideas, plans galore, plus Neptune and Jupiter cuddled up close in the 11th house.  Big on fantasy this cookie and in Sagittarius as well, now she’d like a costume ball, Gerbil.  Why not take her to the Venice Carnival?

pompadourThe Gran Caffé Lavena is putting on a ‘Chocolate in Costume’ theme in the late arvo or the dinner dance ‘Minuetto’ at the Hotel Danieli on Saturday 2nd February, 2013.

Oh sorry, I forgot; you’re stuck in the Arthur Gorrie Correctional Centre.  What a bummer!

No wonder you wanted bail. Madam Pompadour will find someone else, don’t worry.  Pussy is sure to wear that satin teddie that turns you on so much.  She’ll come across for someone else, mate…  no furries.

There is something else in her chart you need to know, Gerbil.  She has a Grand Trine taking precedence in her personality. She has Sun, Moon and Uranus in an Air element Grand Trine.  This cookie only needs a mirror to talk to Gerbil.

Pussy was all-enthusiastic in the beginning though wasn’t she; so fascinating and you dumb-ass thought it was you, who brought that fascination out in her; that she was fascinated by you.  Yawn…  You just needed to hold up the mirror, Gerbil.

A Grand Trine is a very lonely place to be.  This sex kitten’s stuck in it for life, poor Pussy; bouncing off the walls of the triangle most of the time, never to get out of that threesome of Sun, Moon and Uranus; all that energy in the element of Air, a mental realm.  Everything happens for her in the mind. No wonder the need for fantasy.

It’s all rather interesting to observe from the outside, Gerbil. Did you know that when she dressed up in all that sexy gear and you role-played with her, it was because Pussy needed to see the lust reflected in your eyes for her to achieve a heightened sense of satisfaction; her priority was the Pussy’s needs, not Gerbils.

passionrachelclapboardNo Gerbil, it wasn’t your performance in the cot; that you’re hot to trot, though you did have a good teacher when you were a young rat didn’t you. My memory’s slipping was it ’92 or ’93?

You know what a woman wants, or at least you think you do.

Pussy knows how to work you.  It was the reflection of her own performance that she needed to see; the power of seduction and the weakness of your lust, rather than how skilled you were.

Did she look at you, as she does with all men; with disdain and disgust?  Pussy has Pluto in the 9th house.  She would see power as residing in the realm of superiority, of higher learning and elitism, not in the 7th house of a committed relationship. A committed relationship for her is the realm of the Moon; a Moon which is busy in that Grand Trine of hers, bouncing off the walls.

Hmmm, a tough one! Pussy needs a relationship with a significant other, but she fills the need herself.

Oh boy you two thought you were going to go places in the real-estate game didn’t you?  Interesting push there from her mother with Uranus in the 10th house and the cusp in Libra.

This little cookie has had several careers; real estate is just her latest.  I find these sweet things get pretty frustrated as a result of swinging back and forth as they sit on the seesaw; prevaricating about their careers, but I digress.

I’ve just drawn up a composite chart on you two – Gerbil and Pussy; Pussy and Gerbil.

A composite chart is when you put two natal birth wheels together and ask the computer to do its magic and come up with a chart of what a relationship between these two would be like. Not a bi-wheel but a composite wheel.  A bi-wheel is two individuals, which we can compare and analyse; whereas a composite chart is ‘the relationship’ of a couple of individuals.

The computer creates the composite by a combination of the midpoint pictures of the two individuals.  It is not a snapshot of time.  It is a combination of planetary positions.  The composite wheel exists only as a mass of entrails we can poke around.  In our case rats guts and the contents of the guts, namely one partially digested cookie.

Rats and cookies wouldn’t normally hold my attention long enough, but for the sake of posterity lets put our sticky fingers into the cookie-jar and see what we can find.  I have my glass of milk ready and the cat’s got the cream.

Composite- G+PNo points for guessing what zodiac sign’s on the red highlighted Ascendant… Scorpio.

This relationship began with sex and will get bound up as it progresses with something more serious with the opposite side (the Descendant), which is in Taurus; that’s money.  Money binds the rat and his cookie.

The lust for money is a powerful aphrodisiac.

While we are in Taurus, we note that Saturn (highlighted in blue) is there in the 7th house.  This is far too serious for a couple who are having an affair behind someone’s back.

The cheese and kisses is not in the frame; she knows not what they doeth.  These two are not free to carry on in public as if they are in a 7th house relationship. That’s the cheese and kisses role, Gerbil.

Did this couple believe their behaviour was beyond the morals of common folk?  This is the fantasy, the elitism that Pussy lives by;  that same fantasy, the learned parental modeling, Gerbil received at home according to our earlier enquiries.

Mind you, Saturn is in the zodiac sign of money and we also note that Saturn is the handle of the fan for all those planets on the left-hand side of the wheel. That means Saturn and the planetary symbology of Saturn in Taurus runs the show, fans the fire of this relationship.

I think I’m going to need something stronger to drink; where’s the G&T, cat?

The Moon in this relationship is in a similar position to Gerbil’s natal chart, so his need for love is the driver for him here.  The sad part is that this Composite Moon is in a Grand Trine (see red lines) with Jupiter and the MC; a disastrous self-fulfilling prophesy.

This time the Grand Trine is in the element of Water: Pisces, Cancer and Scorpio.  Round and round we go, bouncing off the walls of the triangle:  emotional need for love, inflated sexual desire, a successful career; all a recipe for disaster.

The rat is going to get wet.  Sodden cookies don’t appeal either.

The Grand Trine reveals that Gerbil was in this relationship to have his emotional and sexual needs met while his wife was busy fulfilling their children’s needs. It’s only by this roundabout need of his and Cookie’s practiced role-playing abilities, that they are able to keep the wool pulled over the cheese and kisses’ eyes for all that time.

Pussy meanwhile is caught up in the fantasy element of the relationship; the soul-mate dream. Silly Pussy…  The composite reveals the 2nd house answer to this scenario; Venus, Neptune and Sun all exact conjunction at the first minutes of Sagittarius (highlighted in green).  This is a relationship impossible to live up to.  Talk about dream the impossible dream…

Eventually something had to give and it was the career corner of the trine, as it turns out.  The cookie jar of money, emptied. No Grand Trine=no relationship with Pussy.  What was a Gerbil to do?

We know the relationship had to come to an abrupt end as Mars (masculine energy) and Uranus (sudden changes) are in the 12th house (highlighted turquoise) in the composite chart.

The end could even come to a climax perhaps by Uranus’ other symbolism, modern technology.  This could all end as simply as a confrontation (Mars) over the ‘phone (Uranus).

At the time of the breakup, Jupiter was transiting the composite wheel’s 7th house Saturn. We know that anything Jupiter touches, it inflates.  That’s inflating the fire!  It’s all too much for Pussy; she’ll get her paws burnt.  The dirty rat had betrayed her as well; he’d been tom-catting.

It took the symbolism of Jupiter (the police) to walk in the room and tell Pussy that she was not the only kitten in the litter tray.

Golden apples

It’s all the oracle’s fault!

Just as the younger generation would tend to do today, back in the Heroic times it was no different. Even for a young lady who had achieved great things such as winning the Pythian Games, beauty contests and travelling to far flung places, Atalanta consulted an oracle.  She dreamed of romance. What did the future hold for her?  Would she meet her soul-mate? Would she marry and live happily ever after?  Perhaps it may have been wiser for her not to enquire, for she was told that if she took a husband, she would lose her-self in the marriage.

Saddened by this news, but not wanting to lose her freedom-loving ways, Atalanta chose an independent life. Marriage was not going to be for her. Boar hunting with Diana and enjoying a life attuned to nature filled her days. She grew strong and fearless.  So fearless we are told that she defended herself against two Centaurs wanting to defile her body. Full of confidence and sound of body, she killed them both. That reputation alone, kept the wolves at bay.

Atalanta was a true beauty and many called to court her. She would speed away at their approach pretending to flee, calling over her shoulder, a challenge to a foot race. Most fell by the wayside.

If courtiers persisted in their advances, Atalanta would reveal the rules of her foot face, which were rather challenging, to say the least.  To the winner, Atalanta for a wife and if they lost, they must forfeit their life. This stopped ninety-nine percent in their tracks, but there’s always that one percent who will try.  They lost their lives.

Young Hippomenes happened by when such a challenge was unfolding and became enchanted by Atalanta’s beauty. The faster she ran, the more she appealed, hair flying behind her like a mane, skirts riding high, ribbons at her knees and elbows. He had never seen anything like her in his life. Ignoring the fate of the loser and believing that fortune favours the brave, he recklessly challenged the beauty to a race.

Setting her gaze on Hippomenes, Atalanta saw a beautiful youth, one who was known to have Neptune’s blood in his veins.  He was something of a black horse, known to the Greeks by an alternative name, Melanion. Atalanta had not met this shining youth before as his roots were in a foreign land. She did not dare to risk the wrath of the Gods by taking the life of one of their own for if he were to lose the race, he would lose his life. Atalanta refused his challenge.

He persisted to woo her. Despite the absence of Cupid, the more they bantered, the rosier the glasses. Their line of communication was strong and becoming a stronger bond every day.  He solved her technological problems – don’t lose sight of the fact that he had majored in computing and Atalanta gave him the attention he craved – an eleventh house stellium of planets. Their lives seemed destined to be entwined.

Never forgetful of what the oracle had foretold, Atalanta insisted ever more insistently that she wished he live, not die; that such a handsome youth should not forfeit his life.  The courtier was determined to conquer, to have her. The courted continued to deflect his challenge.

Seeing each other every day by reason of their common endeavours, Atalanta became more enamoured by the day, eventually believing that she had met her soulmate.   If only Atalanta had been more cautious, her friends and family more observant of the intentions of this young man. He was insistent that he and Atalanta should be together and so regretfully she relented and set forth to choose the venue for their race.  Tears clouded her vision.

Hippomenes, meanwhile appealed to the Goddess of Desire for her favour, yet again. It was said he could charm the pants off any young thing and this beauty was just another female to be conquered as far as he was concerned. He approached Venus to come to his aid.  He expected Venus to come to his aid.  He was a descendant of a line of peerage was he not?  Proud lion that he believed himself to be.

We know that our Goddess is easily flattered and so it is no surprise that she would agree to help Hippomenes in his cause. Venus came to his aid bearing gifts, presenting him with three golden apples from her orchard in the Hesperides. Gold apples!  He rubbed his hands with glee and proceeded to learn how to use them to his best advantage. Venus had taught him the power of sex.  Now she was to teach him the power of seduction. Hippomenes could not believe his luck.

Concealing the apples in his robes, Hippomenes presented himself at the venue for the challenge with Atalanta, ever confident with the Goddess on his side. Atalanta was resplendent as always.  Monday’s child, fair of face; Gemini ascendant’s full of grace; a bubbly infectious laugh, quick wit and fleet of mind as well as feet, Atalanta awaited the young contestant.

Bunting fluttering, the combined scent of  laurel and meadow flowers filled the air; musicians entertained the crowds gathered for the entertainment; trumpeters announced the arrival of the competitors, resplendent in their robes. Hippomenes’ and Atalanta’s eyes met as they took their places. Sparks flew. The race was on.

The fair Atalanta easily ran ahead of the youth, letting her ribbons tease him as she led the way, confident in her splendour. Neither she, nor her adoring family and friends, were to know of the deal the scheming youth had made. Innocents abroad.

Following his instruction from the Goddess, Hippomenes tossed one of the golden apples off to the side, falling not so far away, that the maiden would miss sight of it. She didn’t. Atalanta saw the glint of gold and chased after it, scooping up the apple and tucking it into her pocket with much glee. What a pretty thing it was.

While distracted, Hippomenes had drawn ahead of her, however Atalanta quickly caught up and passed him. Again he threw an apple, this time further a-field and again she chased it. Retrieved, Atalanta added this second golden apple to the first.  He drew away once more.  Atalanta was not perturbed, for she knew that she was faster than he.  She was part of Team Mercury.

Atalanta was mercurial in everything she did. Her ballet was a pas de deux with all Mercury represented; her world-wide travels were his realm; her studies, her ever curious mind, her line of work – all communication, the realm of Mercury.  Mercury is the messenger of the Gods. If there ever was a patron of a Flight Centre, it might well have been Mercury.

Perhaps it was the memory of Mercury’s golden cup that distracted Atalanta, or perhaps her love of pretty things, or maybe even her rose-tinted glasses. Whatever it was, she seemed destined to falter. Gold is quite heavy as we know and the combined weight of the two apples began to take effect, to weigh our heroine down.

Of course this worked in reverse as Hippomenes has now lightened his load. Oh Venus, what cunning.

The extra weight of gold in her pocket put a bit of a strain on Atalanta’s resources of energy, however despite this handicap she managed to eventually take the lead again.  Her family and friends continued to cheer her on. They couldn’t see what interest she could possibly have in this young man.  He was no match for her. Stop toying with him. Come on, Atlanta!

With the finish in sight, and the Amazon widening the gap between them, Hippomenes was heard to call out to Venus for her assistance. He tossed the last golden apple as hard and as high as he could, off to the side of the track. It sparkled in the sunlight as it flew through the air and landed in the rough.

Atalanta had not missed hearing his call to Venus and assumed it was for the aid of love, not trickery.  Her heart swelled to overflowing. Tears of joy filled her eyes.  She left the track to collect the third of the golden gifts; the beautiful but heavy golden apples. Atalanta miscalculated.  Thinking she had time to fetch the third apple, as well as win the race, she stowed the last golden prize in her skirts.

Hippomenes, relieved of his golden load, crossed the finish line before her.  Love had won the day, or had it?

We could end this story on a happy-ever-after note, but that is not the way of the Gods.  Once the result was announced, to the winner the prize.  Hippomenes, in his haste to secure his win, regrettably overlooked the ritual to honour the Goddess for his victory; to honour the deal that he had made.

He may have believed that he was superior, being descended from the great Scout Master, but that would not do in this part of the world.  We are in the realm of the Gods and Goddesses here.  No offering had been given, no incense burned. We can almost feel the Goddess beginning to fume.

In his haste to consummate their union, Hippomenes swept up Atalanta and sought out a quiet glade. Within the coolness of the forest, the couple happened upon a deserted temple and in the heat of the moment, the impetuous lovers entered and foolishly defiled the sanctuary. As fate would have it, the deserted temple was one which honoured the Goddess of Desire herself; a consecrated Temple to Venus.

Nothing passes unnoticed in the realm of the Gods and Goddesses.  In the eyes of heaven, Atalanta and Hippomenes were star-crossed lovers. Their relationship was doomed before it had barely begun.

Venus is not one to get sentimental over lovers, as we know. She considered their penance and with death too kind, she decided to turn them into a pair of lions and presented them to the Goddess Cybele.

Harnessed together, Hippomenes and Atalanta as lion and lioness, were cast forever to draw the Queen Bee’s chariot across the sky.

After every football/soccer win, Real Madrid fans celebrate at Cybele’s fountain in Madrid, Spain.  Eight metres tall, a white marble statue is the centre of attention. Holding the keys to the city of Madrid, Cybele rides in her chariot – a chariot drawn by a pair of lions – Atalanta and Hippomenes.

Lots of life

He had a glimmer in his eye as he turned to his wife. She smiled, a star twinkled in heaven and at that very same moment a tiny soul sat before the three Fates, contemplating a human existence.

We know this to be true, because a man by the name of Er, had a life-after-death experience and came back to tell us.  He learned how we come to be who we are and live the lives that we live; have the experiences we do and choose the paths that we take. According to him it seems to be pretty much predetermined, how things turn out.  He spoke of the Fates at length.

Taking notes at the feet of Socrates, Plato scribbled madly as the master of Western philosophy shared the oral history of humankind.

For us, the setting is the birthplace of Western philosophy, of Middle Earth, quite literally the Mediterranean. Our belief system is that our planet, the Earth is the centre of the universe and the heavens, the cradle of humanity.  This is a time when the mysteries of astronomy and astrology are one.  It is roughly four hundred years before the birth of Christ.

We head up the page for our story of The Myth of Er.

Once upon a time in the heavens far, far above Mother Earth, in a place where the Fates hold influence in the scheme of things, a tiny being lay in the Lap of the Gods, bedazzled by the crystalline structure of eight spinning crystal bowls, each nested inside each other. Eight planets, eight bowls in the universe, the nest of creation.

Occasionally a hand reaches forth and spins one bowl so it travels a little faster than the others. Each is tuned to a different note in the musical scale and each note is a constant pitch.  Each planet has its unique tone.

Three figures, the daughters of Necessity are the tiny being’s companions. The Fates’ names were and still are, Lachesis, Clotho and Atropos. Dressed alike in soft, luminous robes, with garlands of meadow flowers woven into their hair beneath their turbans, Necessity’s daughters sing their lilting melodies, the notes swirling in and out of the nested bowls. Lachesis sings of things past, Clotho of things present and Atropos of things to come.  Our tiny being is swept up in their melodies.

Lachesis reaches into a bowl and takes a handful of what look like dice, gently tosses them in her hands before spilling the sparkling coloured cubes onto the rainbow rug before the tiny soul. These dice are lots to be chosen, lots which reveal patterns of lives to be lived for an incarnation as a mortal soul.

Hear the word of Lachesis, the daughter of Necessity. Mortal souls, behold a new cycle of life and mortality. Your genius will not be allotted to you, but you will choose your genius; and let those who draw the first lot, have the first choice and the life, which they choose, shall be their destiny. Virtue is free, and as a human honours or dishonours Virtue they will have more or less of her; the responsibility is with the chooser—God is justified.

Looking closely at the lottery of life, which lay ahead, our tiny being saw that some lots indicated a life of riches, some of poverty, pride, or shame. Others were of persons famed for their good looks, athletic abilities, of pride or arrogance.

There were lots with little to offer or much to be had, spiritual lives, material lives, short lives, long lives, healthy lives or absolute misery. There were male lots and female lots, so much to choose from.  At a loss as to which to pick as all the colours sparkled and beckoned, our tiny being sits quietly until inspiration comes. With eyes shut tightly, a tiny hand reaches forward, selects one lot for gender and one lot for a life.

Opening the tiny fists Fate reveals the left-handed path a female and the right-hand path a beneficial life for others, both destined to perform at Hecate’s bidding.

A soul must take with them into the world below, an adamantine faith in truth and right, that there too they may be un-dazzled by the desire of wealth or the other allurements of evil, lest coming upon tyrannies and similar villainies, they do irremediable wrongs to others and suffer yet worse themselves; but let them know how to choose the mean and avoid the extremes on either side, as far as possible, not only in this life but in all that, which is to come. For this is the way of happiness.

Clotho sits at her spindle, spinning the linen thread of life, until it reaches the length determined by the lot our tiny soul has drawn from the gift of Lachesis.  The thread is spun and cut by Atropos according to the lot chosen.

 Meanwhile an innate guardian spirit steps forward at the behest of the Fates; steps forward to join the tiny being on the rainbow blanket of the heavens.  Under the watchful eyes of the Triple Goddess, the two are bound together at the wrist by the thread of life.  Our tiny female soul is united with her innate guardian, a lifetime’s spiritual companion. With their bond ratified by the Fates, the music of the spheres rocks the cradle of life – the pair now irrevocably joined.  Our tiny girl will never walk alone.

With the ritual complete, the pair make attendance before Necessity, mother of the Triple Goddess, the three Fates. Necessity leans forward and with her finger outstretched, presses the upper lip of the tiny soul, sealing past memories. This is the last ceremony before the Mother.  It is called ‘The Forgetting’.

Before our female soul and guardian spirit have time to realise that all is complete, they are thrust forward into the River of Life, the beginning of their journey. Tossed this way and that, across time and space, testing their bond; the thread of life which some call a silver cord unites them as they tumble onto the plane of humanity.  Destiny has timed perfectly to connect with a baby child, conceived by an act of love between two mortals.  It is 1 July, 1968.  Allison has arrived.

The room is filled to overflowing with the scent of flowers. Every available surface is taken up with floral arrangements. Balloons are tied to the bed-head, the bedside lamp and even the door handle, all adorned with bows anchoring the joy of a second daughter to a loving couple.  One balloon escapes, plumping against the ceiling as the air swirls up from the fan. Helium filled, coloured pink; bold writing in silver announcing the arrival of a baby girl.

As she lifts her eyes from the bundle of joy swaddled in pink, a heady scent takes charge. Misty-eyed, our mother gently presses the indentation just above the baby’s upper lip and murmurs, almost to herself,  ‘Thank you Juno for our younger daughter, Allison June’.

The baby has thick blonde tresses, eyes that reflect the sky, a peaches and cream complexion and rosy cheeks. She is so beautiful and good-natured; a joy to the world.

The astrology chart for Allison June is cast before us now. It reveals a rather complex child one who would grow into a beautiful young woman; one who would hold a block of chocolate in one hand and a diet book in the other, enjoying the humour of the irony.  She wasn’t to lack for parental love, learning her social skills beside her sister and brother.

The chart reveals much more as well – that of her character and good nature, her innate ability to slip into dreamland, but then we would expect the chart to reveal this as it was cast at the time of her birth, the time when she entered the Earth plane. This was the lot that she had drawn. What her destiny held, what the Fates were yet to reveal, was all ahead of her.

Press your index finger to the indentation above your top lip and see if you can catch just a tiny flash of memory before ‘the forgetting’ clicks in.  Bend time, if you can.

Down and dirty

With this erotically charged Moon, her nightdress shimmers in the last vestiges of the waning cycle. It is just two nights before she is to restore herself and renew the waxing of his glory.  The New Moon awaits.  What went wrong with this scenario?

The Moon Goddess was distracted on 19 April, 2012.  She was quindecile Saturn. Obsessed by the Time Lord, she tilted her windmill and sent Pluto offside. Hell’s sulphuric odour indicates that something’s ‘on the nose’. Things were definitely askew in the heavens on this night.

Kore could feel the Mars energy propelling her towards destiny, even as she innocently frolicked in the fields of her family’s estate. Her mother Demeter and Aunt Athene were busy taking tea.

Meanwhile, Venus was feeling unloved. She sat filing her nails as Mars’ energy was focused elsewhere.  She felt her power of seduction had lost its appeal and looked around for a distraction to allay any possible fears in that regard.

The planets were in alignment for her it seems, or so she thought, as the God Pluto entered her line of sight.  This was a rare occurrence indeed, as Pluto’s realm was usually the Underworld and the flames of Hell – far removed from the celestial light of Mount Olympus.  Assuming that she was the object of his desire, Venus was extremely put-out when Pluto didn’t even give her a glance.  She must be slipping. Could Pluto be oblivious to her sexual appeal?

Our Love Goddess mused for a few moments before coming to the realisation that it wasn’t just Pluto. No one had been paying her much attention of late.  This just would not do, so she whistled up her son Cupid to gather his quiver and arrows. There was work to be done.

Venus’ intent may have been to bring desire back onto the agenda when she instructed Cupid to do her bidding, however shooting an arrow straight into the God’s heart was not the best choice Venus might have made.  She could have had a tad more consideration for the consequences, as it turned out.

Not only was it a bad choice, it was also poor timing for our Goddess Venus, as Pluto was not heading towards her when the arrow struck home.  Wounded in the heart, the son of Saturn momentarily lost control of his steeds, his chariot veered out into the fields and his sight fell upon Kore, our innocent maiden.

Love at first sight…

Smitten, Pluto (remember he is also known as Hades) swooped and stole the maiden, so swiftly that no one heard her cry. It mattered not to him that she was an innocent. Cupid’s arrow had done its job.

Hades stole Kore away to the Underworld, to Hell and there she remained in bondage until he made her his bride, renaming her Persephone, Queen of the Underworld.

Kore’s mother, foiled by the change of name, spent many long years grieving for her much loved daughter. The Earth suffered many, many seasons of drought and famine  before Demeter was to discover where her daughter was imprisoned.

Venus has a lot to answer for, in the realm of the gods.

When we refer to the astrology wheel of 11.55pm on 19 April, 2012, it is no surprise when we see the planet Venus is peregrine / un-aspected by any planets. She has wandered aimlessly in the heavens and certainly got into trouble that night.

Looking further into the unknown, we turn our attention to the astrological perspective, another realm of Pluto’s. In the heavens, the Moon square Pluto creates an environment where an evening could be truly, madly and deeply romantic, however the emotional fragility could also easily freeze-over in an instant if someone tries to dominate, manipulate or control the other. The Moon square Pluto is extremely sensitive to seething undercurrents in a domestic situation.

With a childhood history such as a Saturn retrograde, where a boy learned to bury these feelings, the environment is such that the man could explode volcano-like with an excess of childish emotions.  The tension generated by the square in this Hades Moon is fraught with danger and an individual could feel compelled to purge their long suppressed rage and emotions.

This purge could bring an individual an overwhelming jouissance, a sense of power, which would result in what only they could perceive, as a successful outcome.

How this purge is expressed is the question here.  I am certain there wasn’t a paintbrush and easel at hand for a creative therapeutic outcome. I wonder, did the bondage of the realm of Hades appeal?

Looking heavenwards, we also see that the Moon is quindecile Saturn (retrograde) in real-time, which can only reveal a compulsive, obsessive, totally out of control need to be in charge of the situation, to be Numero Uno. A mirror perhaps of a boy-child’s own Saturn retrograde experience.

The memories of that childhood frustration would be flooding into his mind and this is further compounded by the Sun backing up the Moon – both wants and needs focussed on Father Time.  This has got to be a double-edged sword, a double whammy if this childhood emotional wound has not been addressed.

The pressure cooker is building with the volcanic plug in danger of blowing.

Further afield Mars is opposite Neptune, which possibly indicates that sexual inadequacy fears also may come into the picture.  With all this rage going on, we would not be the least bit surprised if sexual tensions were being expressed as well. The frustration would be unbearable.

Mars is square the nodes and we know what that indicates on this occasion – mother is not there for the boy-child.

Not wanting to make matters worse, I am compelled to keep my eyes heavenwards and note that Jupiter is quindecile the midheaven.  Yet another obsessive, compulsive agenda is at hand.

When we see/hear Jupiter in this situation, this is nothing less than a reward being demanded – “I deserve this reward.  I must have it and it must be very, very big. Only the very best will do.”  There is a need for reward far greater than any realistic expectation (it’s a quindecile remember).  This could also be interpreted as a release of sexual energy in order to break the tension.

This is not going to eventuate given the Sun has the last word. The Sun is at the lowest point in the wheel at the Nadir and in opposition to this Jupiter quindecile.  There is no way this man is going to be rewarded, not by anyone outside of himself nor by himself.

The Sun is opposite Saturn retrograde.

He must explode or he will implode.

Saturn, as the grim reaper has entered the room. Metaphorically, Death is to be his companion, however coward that he is, he kills ‘the other’ instead of taking his own life by exiting stage left..