Over HERE, Rupert

Dammit Rupert, I said talk to ME! LOL

I went to hear a dialogue with Rupert Sheldrake and Andrew Cohen last Friday: Is evolution sacred? It was, without a hint of sarcasm, one of the most interesting experiences I have ever had and a radical change to my usual Friday night programme (ie, the pub). The topic covered the idea of enlightenment, a notion I always left to those granola-eating floaty type people wearing kaftans. What made it intriguing? It was the way these two men, with their vastly differing views, listened to each other and respected each others' opinions. To say it was an intense experience would be an understatement and there's no way I will even try to sum up what I got out of it, let alone try to explain what someone else might have gotten out of it. However, I will give my viewpoint on animals and enlightenment (since, quite surprisingly, Andrew and I seemed a bit at odds over the topic). Andrew said animals don't have a sense of enlightenment. Well, I disagree and this is why: my cats look directly at my face as if trying to understand my expressions. If they had no interest in me as a fellow being, why would they look at my face? Why don't they just watch what is moving? I think my cats have an awareness of me just as much as I have an awareness of them. Are my cats capable of enlightenment? Who the hell am I to say! But just look at me and my cat Bubbles sleeping! He's in my bed, under my covers with his paw on my shoulder as if to reassure me that he loves me. Anthropromorphic drivel? Yeah probably I'm projecting all over the place. But isn't Bubbles sweet?

To celebrate the potential for cats to become enlightened (and I'm not limiting this potential to cats--in fact, I might even be implying, with my next joke, that animals even have a soul!), here's a very special Mars in the 6th house joke:

One day a cat dies of natural causes and goes to heaven. There he meets the Lord Himself. The Lord says to the cat, "You lived a good life and if there is any way I can make your stay in Heaven more comfortable, please let Me know."

The cat thinks for a moment and says, "Lord, all my life I have lived with a poor family and had to sleep on a hard wooden floor."

The Lord stops the cat and says, "Say no more," and a wonderful fluffy pillow appears.

A few days later, six mice are killed in a tragic farming accident and go to heaven. Again, there is the Lord there to great them with the same offer.

The mice answered, "All of our lives we have been chased. We have had to run from cats, dogs and even women with brooms. Running, running, running; we're tired of running. Do you think we could have roller skates so we don't have to run anymore?"

The Lord says, "Say no more," and fits each mouse with beautiful new roller skates.

About a week later the Lord stops by to see the cat and finds him snoozing on the pillow. The Lord gently wakes the cat and asks him, "How are things since you got here?"

The cat stretches and yawns and replies, "It is wonderful here. Better than I could have ever expected. And those 'Meals On Wheels' you've been sending by are the best!"

Kiss me, I can triple tongue

Update: I'm starting a one woman campaign to get Wynton onto astrodatabank. To do this, I need his time of birth. If anyone can help out, please let me know!

Now on to the regularly scheduled programme.

I've been a Wynton Marsalis fan since I was a kid. I played the trumpet in the Salvation Army and I used to listen to Wynton after band practice just to get a bit of equilibrium. Wynton started playing the trumpet at age six, around the year I was born (oh yeah, this explains why he's so much better than me!). He said he wanted to make somebody feel like John Coltrane made him feel listening it. OK, Wynton, you do it for me, baby. I could (and do!) listen to you all night. You inspire me to drag myself out to South London for jazz band practice.

To honour Wynton, here's a little video from youtube. By the way, this was what I played for my final recital at University. Only, I um, wasn't quite so damn good. But nearly. This reminds me of the traditional trumpet player greeting:

"Hi. Nice to meet you. I'm better than you."

But I think I could restrain from saying this to Wynton.

Oh-oh, I can feel a joke just for Wynton coming up! This one is Sun conjunct Jupiter in Pisces in the tenth with a square to Saturn:

A great jazz trumpet player dies and goes to heaven. When he gets there, he finds out that heaven has a jazz band and rehearsal is about to begin. When he arrives at the rehearsal, he finds out that it is the biggest jazz band he had ever seen. There were over twenty trumpet players, including all the greats, like Miles Davis, Dizzy Gillespie, Louis Armstrong, and many others. The band sounds incredible, the best he had ever heard, and all of the players were great, with one exception. The lead player was horrible! The lead player had no high chops, couldn't play a decent swing groove, and could not improvise. Yet this horrible player was on lead, really looked like he was getting into the songs, and looked incredibly smug and pleased with himself after every song. Incredulous, he asked the player next to him, "Who is that guy? He's horrible!"

The other player replied, "Oh, that's just God. He only likes to think that he's Wynton Marsalis."

I love you, Wynton. Happy Birthday!!

The new AA journal editor!!

So, here I am standing next to John Green, the new AA editor. I'm going to stop standing next to slim people. Reminds me of a Jupiter cj the ascendant joke with Saturn in the eighth (inconjunct Jupiter for very obvious reasons):

A man is cooking in his back yard on his BBQ grill. He glances over at his wife and notices how large her behind is.

He then looks at his grill and looks back at his wife and says, "Honey I think your butt might be as big as the grill!"

He didn't stop there, he then went into the house and got a tape measure and measured the grill then his wife's ass.

Later that night, the couple decided to get a little frisky in bed.

The wife then said “I don't see any reason for me to fire up this fat-ass grill for that little weiner."

BTW, this joke has nothing to do with John!

Yup, still going on about the conference

And I'm still telling Satan jokes. . .but not because I had the chance to spend some time with the devilishly gorgeous Ben Dykes (left).

I met Ben at the United Astrology Conference in Denver and he is not only a young man of great intelligence (a PhD and all!) but he's a genuinely nice guy. He's also very generous with the vodka. Ben did some translations of Bonatti's work--how clever is that!?--which he will be presenting at the Lodge history seminar later this month.

So, in honour of devishly gorgeous men, here's a little Pluto in the 7th house joke:

One bright, beautiful Sunday morning, everyone in the small New England town got up early and went to the local church. Before the services started, the townspeople were sitting in their pews and idly chatting about their lives, their families, etc., when suddenly, Satan appeared at the front of the church. Everyone started screaming and running for the front entrance, trampling each other in a frantic effort to get away from evil incarnate. Everyone quickly evacuated the Church, except for one elderly gentleman who sat calmly in his pew, not moving... seemingly oblivious to the fact that God's ultimate enemy was in his presence. Now this confused Satan a bit, so he walked up to the man and said, "Do you not know who I am?"

The man replied, "Yep, sure do."

Satan asked, "Aren't you afraid of me?"

"Nope, sure ain't," said the man.

Satan was a little perturbed at this and queried,"Why aren't you afraid of me?"

The man calmly replied, "Been married to your sister for over 31 years."

A little more Neptune

After having my photo taken with Neil, I crawled across the table to Geoffrey Cornelius! Not really, I just barged into his conversation with Nicola Allsop and demanded that Neil take my photo! Seriously, I just smiled sweetly (and notice that beer is still not finished).

To celebrate a really fabulous night with a lot of truly fabulous people, here's another special Neptune joke for all us fabulous people who look to the stars!

Things That Are Difficult to Say When Drunk:
Innovative
Preliminary
Proliferation
Cinnamon

Things That Are Very Difficult to Say When Drunk:
Specificity
Anti-constitutionalistically
Passive-aggressive disorder
Transubstantiate

Things That Are Downright Impossible to Say When Drunk:
Nope, no more booze for me!
Sorry, but you're not really my type.
Taco Bell? No thanks, I'm not hungry.
Good evening, officer. Isn't it lovely out tonight?
Oh, I couldn't! No one wants to hear me sing karaoke.
I'm not interested in fighting you.
Thank you, but I won't make any attempt to dance, I have no coordination. I'd hate to look like a fool!
Where is the nearest bathroom? I refuse to pee in this parking lot or on the side of the road.
I must be going home now, as I have to work in the morning.

Just an observation. . .

At the Astrological Association's conference last weekend, I observed Neil Spencer fussing over his food. Never one to miss an opportunity (having been a formal journalist myself), I sauntered over to Neil's table and threw myself at his feet for this photo. Curiously, he made this odd gesture at Nick Campion who was sitting behind him. I love Neil and we go waaaaaay back to "Gone With the Wind" (OK, "True as the Stars Above") and the Club of 27 (which has been resurrected for non-astrologers at Camden Market--but let it be known: the astrologers got there first). Neil presented Kurt Cobain and I presented Janis Joplin at the Lodge.

Oh god, I just realised I am clutching yet another pint of the aqua vitae. . .

Here comes a few Neptune jokes to celebrate. . .all those EMPTY BOTTLES of wine on his table!

6 stages of inebriation:

Jocose

Verbose

Bellicose

Morose

Lachrymose

Comotose

A planetary guide to wines: (this one written by moi)

The sun: Warm, self brewed and when you drink it, everyone notices you.

The Moon: A family label, makes you reflective and, usually, tearful about the past

Mercury: very light and easy to drink, imbibe and you reveal every secret and morsel of gossip you have been carefully containing your whole life. Good thing it makes you fast on your feet. . .

Venus: a sweet wine, usually taken as a dessert. Makes you feel amorous and attractive to the opposite sex

Mars: slightly spicy and gives you the horn. Then makes you want to fight everyone for the object of your affection

Jupiter: a full bodied, foreign wine, usually quite expensive. Typically used during Communion

Saturn: Bitter or sour taste--usually because your great aunt has been hoarding it since the Crimean War. Gives you one hell of a hangover.

Uranus: difficult to describe as it's a one-off. Makes you give a rebel yell. Several times.

Neptune: You don't remember what this tastes like. In fact you don't remember much of anything that night.

Pluto: A few sips of this and nothing is the same again. . .

Entertainment Value

Can't resist one more blog about Chris Mitchell--and OK, I admit it, I just like the joke! And Chris' outfit.

To celebrate great entertainment (and it was also very informative!), a very special Sun in the 12th with a Mars transit!

A circus zebra was sent to a farm to recuperate on the advice of the Veterinary surgeon. The zebra felt happy on being released in an enclosure but soon began to feel lonely and bored. It decided to seek company so he jumped over the fencing and trotted to the farm house where he saw anumber of strange looking animals. The zebra first walked up to the chicken and said, "Hello! I am an African zebra. Who are you?"

The chicken replied, "Well, I am a chicken.”

"Glad to know you." said the zebra. "Actually I am a performing zebra from a circus. I dance and do a trick which makes people clap and that makes my master happy and he takes care of me. What do you do?"

"Well, I scratch the ground, feed on grain and lay eggs which makes my master happy. Glad to know you too and welcome." The zebra then introduced itself one by one to all other animals around the farm house and felt very welcome at the farm. Then it looked around and spotted another strange animal in an enclosure nearby. It jumped over the fencing into the enclosure and approached the animal.

"Hello, I am an African zebra! Actually, I am a performing zebra from a circus coming here for a rest. I dance and do tricks, which makes people clap and that makes my master happy and he takes care of me. Who are you and what do you do?"

In a low voice the reply came, "I am a bull, a stud bull."

"And what do you do?" asked the dancing Zebra.

"Take off your pajamas and I show you," said the stud bull.