Steve Judd Concedes!

Well, it was a busy weekend at Bath Spa for the MA graduates! Not only was it a time to hear brilliant presentations (a-hem), it was a chance to catch up with old friends. . .and to get old friends to take the Alex Trenoweth "any aspect, any planet, any house" astrological joke challenge.

And guess what? Steve Judd, the world's hardest working astrologer, took up the challenge and had to concede defeat! Ha! And yes Steve, there were witnesses! (left is a photo of Steve at Rainbow Circle Astrology Camp).

In other news, Nick Campion gave yours truly a compliment! Good goddess, what is the world coming to when Steve Judd concedes and Nick Campion hands out compliments??

Lest either Nick or Steve get it into their heads otherwise, let me publicly declare that my academic heart still belongs to Patrick Curry! In honour of Patrick Curry (an ex pat like me), Steve Judd admitting defeat, and Nick Campion finally saying nice things about me, here's a little Pluto conjunct Mars in the 11th house joke.

It was election time and a politician decided to go out to the local reservation and try to get the Native American vote. They were all assembled in the Council Hall to hear the speech. The politician had worked up to his finale, and the crowd was getting more and more excited.

"I promise better education opportunities for Native Americans!"The crowd went wild, shouting "Hoya! Hoya!" The politician was a bit puzzled by the native word, but was encouraged by their enthusiasm.

"I promise gambling reforms to allow a Casino on the Reservation!"

"Hoya! Hoya!" cried the crowd, stomping their feet.

"I promise more social reforms and job opportunities for Native Americans!"

The crowd reached a frenzied pitch shouting "Hoya! Hoya! Hoya!"

After the speech, the Politician was touring the Reservation, and saw a tremendous herd of cattle. Since he was raised on a ranch, and knew a bit about cattle, he asked the Chief if he could get closer to take a look at the cattle.

"Sure," the Chief said, "but be careful not to step in the hoya."

3rd Post Graduate Research Conference

"Taking the Devil by the Horns: Lucifer's journey from Morning Star to Arch-demon and back again"

On Sunday, I will be reading an abstract from my MA dissertation from the Cultural Astronomy and Astrology course at Bath Spa.

Essentially, I will be arguing that the story of Lucifer is a result of a mistranslation by St Jerome and a myth perpetuated by later authors. I'll also be talking about goats, pentagrams and winged deities, by products of the Lucifer myth.

Since I'm de-mystifying Lucifer, I thought I should thrown in a satan (who isn't who we think he is either) joke. But you'll have to come to my talk to fully understand. . .

Pluto conjunct Neptune

Two satans meet one day. The first satan says, “You know, I just can’t seem to get a tender missionary, I’ve baked them, I have roasted them, I’ve stewed them, I’ve barbecued them, I’ve tried every sort of marinade. I just can’t seem to get them tender.”

The second satan asks, “What kind of missionary do you use?”

The other replies, “You know, the ones that hang out at the place at the bend of the lake.They have those brown cloaks with a funny ring of hair on their heads.”

“Aha!” the second satan replies. “No wonder – those are friars!”

Happy Caturday

Venus in the 6th. . .with a Jupiter transit

Helen Clark: Oopsie

The Metro has reported that Helen Clark, former MP of Petersborough, was filmed ranting and raving whilst seemingly blind drunk.

Oopsie.

We’re used to young people acting like fools on too much of the brew but to have an adult in a position of responsibility ranting like an idiot? It’s embarrassing enough for a normal person (and I use that term loosely) to be seen in such a state but to be a politician and to have it recorded on youtube seems to be most unfortunate.

So unfortunate that I couldn’t resist but have a little peek at her chart.

According to her Wikipedia entry, Helen Clark was born 23 December 1954 in Derby. A quick head calculation will tell you she’s going to have transit Pluto problems—and sure enough, with Pluto’s current position at 29 degrees, 30 minutes Sagittarius, the Lord of the Underworld does his stake in the heart routine all over her natal Sun/Mercury conjunction. Anything Helen hopes to be buried and forgotten is likely to resurrect its spiky little head at every embarrassing opportunity. If she goes through with her threat of suing youtube and Goddess-knows-who-else, it will only call attention to her shenanigans and cause more embarrassment. It’s enough to evoke images of Hercules and his battle with the deadly Hydra, a terrifying multi-headed beast.

In the myth, Hercules was assigned the task of killing the Hydra. His mentor advised him, “We rise by kneeling. We conquer by surrendering. We gain by giving up.” Hercules paid no mind and went in to fight the Hydra with sword a-blazing. Every time he cut off a head, it was replaced by three more heads, each one more vicious than its predecessor. Eventually, Hercules got the idea of what his mentor had advised him. Kneeling in its slime, Hercules raised the Hydra to where the sun shone in the cave and it withered and died. Where there’s Pluto, there’s treasure: after its death, the Hydra was replaced by a valuable jewel. And that’s the beauty of a Pluto transit. . .

Rather than calling more attention to this dreadful predicament, Helen should maybe face her demons and be seen to do something about it.

In honour of politicians, seemingly irredeemable situations and last second resurrections, here’s my Jupiter in 12th inconjunct Mars in 7th (with a Pluto transit) joke.

A man walks into a bar and orders a beer. The barman charges him 10 cents. Confused, but not complaining, the man pays.
After a while he decides to have another, and some food, so he orders another beer and a steak. The barman charges him 25 cents, 10 for the beer and 15 for the food. After finishing his food and drink, he calls the barman over and says, "Mate, that was the best steak I've ever had. I want to talk to the manager and thank him." "No problem," says the barman. "He's upstairs with my wife."

"What's he doing upstairs with your wife?" asks the man. "Probably the same thing I'm doing to his business down here!"

Enid Williams: Rock Astrologer

Not only did I bump into Shelley von Strunckel the other night at the Astrological Lodge of London, I also caught up with my friend, rock goddess and astrologer, Enid Williams, who is in the heavy metal band, Girlschool. Enid was worried about taking a bad photo. Ha! As if! Here's Enid's my space link! You have got to see this chick do her guitar thing!

In honour of my favourite rock astrologer (OK, she's the only rock astrologer I know of but she is MEGA cool), here's my very flattering Sun cj Neptune with a Jupiter transit in the 7th joke.

A guitarist finishes gig and is the last one in the place with the barman, who asks if he'd like a scotch before he goes home. The player says 'sure' and the barman plonks down a big glass of the juice and a little bowl of peanuts to go with it, then wanders off to wipe down the counter. This leaves the gun guitarist all by himself for a minute.

From nowhere a little voice says, "Great gig man, you're one hot picker."

The player looks at the barman and says, "Thanks."

The barman says, "What for?"

The player says, "For sayin' nice things about my work."

The barman says, "I didn't say nothing."

The guitarist thinks it's late and he's a bit spaced so he'd better head off when another little voice says: "Yeah, great licks, man and nice moves too, you sure cut it up there."

The guitar player turns around and says, "Thanks," but there's nobody there.

The feller at the bar says, "Are you ok?" because the picker looks a bit pale.

The guitarist says, "Yeah, I think so."

Then, as he empties his glass another voice says, "Hot licks, great look, wonderful style man, the chicks sure got off on you!"

The guitarist says, 'OK! THAT'S IT! WHAT'S GOING ON HERE?'

The barman runs down and says, "What's your problem dude?"

The guitarist says 'WHERE ARE THOSE VOICES COMING FROM? IS THIS CANDID CAMERA?'

"What voices? What are they saying?"

When the guitarist tells the barman what was going on and what was said, the barman says: "Oh that'll be the peanuts, man. They're complimentary!"

Alex Trenoweth's guide to annoying star signs

OK, anyone who knows me knows how I feel about star signs (equivalent to a priest selling fake holy water). But yesterday, I met the only astrologer in the world with a cooler surname than me, Shelley von Strunckel . (And do you see what I mean about me never being able to manage to look glamourous?) Shelley encouraged astrologers to be more generous to other astrologers and to stop trying to out do each other. Inspired, I decided to offer the proverbial olive branch to my friends who write the newspaper astrology columns.

In case you haven't figured it out, the jokes in this blog are a collection rather than my own intellectual material (I keep waiting to find a threat for legal action in the comments: you know: "that's my joke, you astrologer, you."). However, this guide is my work so if you're going to quote it, make sure you attribute it to me, okay? On second thought, don't tell ANYONE I did a star sign guide. (Thanks for a fab talk, Shelley--and it was lovely to meet you!)

Alex Trenoweth's guide to annoying star signs

Aries: Make them wait in a long queue that doesn’t seem to be moving
Taurus: Move their furniture around--just a little bit. Eat in front of them without offering them anything. Make sure you finish every crumb.
Gemini: Don’t speak to them or don’t give them the chance to speak at all. Make sure you immobilise their hands too.
Cancer: Insult their mothers, their country or their offspring. Deny them all dairy products. Especially cheese (all right, that would get on MY nerves)
Leo: Hide their hair gel/hair brush, then take away their mirrors
Virgo: Eat something that makes your fingers sticky then shake their hand. Make sure there's no running water/soap/hand wipes first.
Libra: Let them know they’re not invited to your party. Make a big point of handing out the invitations in front of them.
Scorpio: Return their “evil” glare without a flinch, expose their secret plans, act as if you're not morally offended at their double entendres.
Sagittarius: Tie them up. Gag them and don’t let them exercise their right to freedom of speech. Hide their passport.
Capricorn: Put everyone to work, then make sure everyone gets a pay rise and promotion except them. Tell them they're lazy and will never amount to anything.
Aquarius: Deny them the opportunity to do group work, make them wear a business suit with the tie done all the way to the top. Ensure they blend in with the crowd.
Pisces: Give them all the alcohol they can drink then give them a map and tell them to find their own way home.

And Jules and Kim: You know. . .

Practice Hen Night

Well, they say practice makes perfect so me and my buddies Jules Genik and Kim Farnell did a dummy run of my hen night. And it's a good thing we did too because the restaurant wasn't quite what we'd expected. The food wasn't bad but it was a bit over-priced and the menu wasn't as extensive as we would have liked. To top it off, the service wasn't so hot (though perhaps we can excuse this because the Maitre 'D had a heavy cold--which he kept inadvertantly demonstrating to us). For the better part of the meal, we were also the only three in there which made me wonder why it wasn't more busy on a Saturday night in the middle of London. Then there was the thing with the two ambulances and three police cars outside that convinced us that perhaps this wouldn't be the best place for a group of women to feel safe after a few drinks and without male escort.

However, don't you just love it when you do something different with you hair and it works?

Here's me at the start of the night, looking somewhat glam (being a teacher, the glamourous look is something I rarely manage. No matter how hard I try, I end up still looking like a teacher!).

And here's me a few hours later at a club we found near Oxford Circus, looking a little tired. Don't be too hard on me--it's 1am and my bedtime is usually about 9:30. Special note: Jules has this lipstick that makes your lips feel like you've been supping the tabasco sauce. But don't they look lush?

And the nominee for the weirdest toilets goes to. . .

this club in London had toilets that looked like something out of Alien. I was scared to use them and opted for a hedge ticket on the way home. No not really, I did use them but I was still pretty freaked out.

Me and Kim, with Jules taking the photograph. Some sweet young male thangs made the passing comment: "There's some nice looking ladies!" Made our night! Although, standing next to Kim, I think I look like a hulking female impersonator!

In honour of hairstyles that turn out okay, Hen's nights that could have been turkeys if it hadn't been for the dummy run and getting compliments out of young stud muffins, here's my joke to provide a little counterbalance. . .

Saturn in 6th

A lady was walking down the street to work and she saw a parrot on a perch in front of a pet store. The parrot said to her, "Hey lady, you are really ugly."

Well, the lady is furious! She stormed past the store to her work. On the way home she saw the same parrot and it said to her, "Hey lady, you are really ugly."

She was incredibly ticked now. The next day the same parrot again said to her, "Hey lady, you are really ugly."

The lady was so ticked that she went into the store and said that she would sue the store and kill the bird.

The store manager replied, "That's not good," and promised he wouldn't say it again. When the lady walked past the store that day after work the parrot called to her, "Hey lady."

She paused and said, "Yes?"

The bird said, "You know."

Pretty Kitty

I love cats.

I especially love it when they walk on me when I'm in bed. I love the way they stick their cold little noses in my ear and purr. I love to watch them stretch. I love it when they meow at me because I'm not opening their tin of food quick enough. I love it when they rub themselves against my legs. I keep thinking I'd like to get them to paint like the cat, right.

Anyway, this morning my beautiful boy, Purrseus (below left), killed a mouse just for me. How do I know he killed it for me? Because he left it right where he knew I would be sure to step on it. Yuk. Try having mouse guts squashed between your toes at 6 am. I do love my cats though (we also have his twin brother Bubbles). So much that I'm going to declare it Caturday with a gorgeous range of Venus in the 6th house jokes. By the way, you might know that small animals rule the 6th house and big animals ruled the 12th. So how do you know if an animal is "big" or "small"? Well, apparently, if it's bigger than a goat, it's 12th house and if it's smaller than a goat it's the 6th. However, I forgot to ask: "what about goats themselves?"

No matter. . .here's a few cat jokes. Happy Caturday!

1. Did you hear about the cat who swallowed a ball of wool? She had mittens.

2. What is the difference between a cat and a comma? One has the paws before the claws and the other has the clause before the pause.

3. Why don't cats play poker in the jungle? Too many cheetahs.

And thanks to Claire Chandler!

Just a public thank you to my buddy and amazing Astrological Lodge of London president Claire Chandler for rescuing me last week. Thanks Claire (and Russ)!!

Here we are at Sue Farebrother's aforementioned, (but still not revealing numbers), party.

And to really give my thanks, here's my Mercury in the sixth house joke just for her (OK and for Russ too):

A mangy looking guy who goes into a bar and orders a drink.

The bartender says, "No way, pal. I don't think you can pay for it."

"You're right," the guy says. "I don't have any money, but if I show you something you haven't seen before, will you give me a drink?"

"You have a deal, my friend," says the bartender.

The guy reaches into his coat pocket and pulls out a hamster. He puts the hamster on the bar and it runs to the end of the bar, down the side of the bar, across the room, up the piano, onto the keyboard and starts playing Gershwin music. The hamster can really play...

"You're right... I've never seen anything like that before," says the bartender. "That hamster is really gifted."

The guy downs the drink and asks the bartender for another.

"Will that be cash or another miracle, pal?" asks the bartender.

"Watch this," replies the guy. Again, he reaches into his coat again and pulls out a frog. He puts the frog onto the bar, and the frog starts to sing. The frog has a marvelous voice and great pitch. A fine singer. A stranger from the other end of the bar runs over to the guy and offers him $300 for the frog.

"It's a deal," says the guy. He takes the three hundred and gives the stranger the frog. The stranger runs out of the bar.

"Are you some kind of nut?" asks the bartender. "You sold a singing frog for $300? It could have been worth millions. You must be crazy."

"Not so," says the guy. "The hamster is a ventriloquist."

Happy Birthday Sue Farebrother

My buddy Sue Farebrother turned an age I won't reveal! Here's a photo. We had so much fun SOMEONE couldn't hold the camera still (a-HEM).

To celebrate this mystery, I have a little joke just for her. It can only be Uranus/Mars (ruling sixth) cj the Sun of the solar return. . .in the eighth house.

A young woman was coming up to her 21st birthday and for all of the previous month, she had dropped heavy hints to family, friends and colleagues about the impending big day. The morning of her birthday, she had expected her roommates to have left a small but tasteful pile of presents and cards but she could find none. She waited for one of them to wish her a happy birthday and cue a deluge of happy wishes. Nothing. So she checked the morning mail, expecting the postman would need a wheelbarrow to make the deliveries. There was nothing but the electric bill. Not one to get to disheartened, she remained optimistic her work would bring the desired good wishes. Nothing. At lunch time, she went out and bought herself a little badge that said "Birthday Girl," hoping to jog some faulty memories. It seemed no one even noticed. She stayed at work later than she should have, still expecting someone at work might have remembered. No one did--and she was the last to leave. How can such a popular girl as myself be forgotten? she wondered. So she went home, still hopeful there might be some sort of surprise arrangements. She positioned herself by the phone, where she was still waiting some time later. Depressed, she got out the old peanut butter, smeared a thick layer on her nether regions and called her faithful bull mastiff to do the birthday honours. She was just forgetting all her troubles when she the front door suddenly opened and she was immediately surrounded by every friend, member of family and work colleague she had ever known. Before anyone could take in what was going on, they all yelled: "SURPRISE!"

Pluto, RIP

Not too long ago, before the astrological rage to predict what would happen once Pluto was in Capricorn (this was when Pluto was actually a planet!), the Lord of the Underworld was on the galactic centre. I miss Pluto. But I'm happy astronomers say he doesn't matter anymore. This means we don't have to worry about anihilating ourselves anymore because we've lost the touch. In fact, since we're about to use up everything instead, we should just use it up faster. Oh wait. . .

All right, I'll admit it: I'm still annoyed about Boris' new law. So annoyed, I'm going to reminisce about when Pluto was conjunct the galactic centre (there's probably a Neptune transit here somewhere but that's not exactly new news (since everyone alive has a Pluto-Neptune aspect)) (yes I just did do tricky things with parentheses) (but don't worry, it will be all right in the end). There's no better way to remember the good old days than with a right old giggle. Here's to when Pluto was conjunct the Galactic Centre:

Sherlock Holmes and Dr Watson go on a camping trip. After a good dinner and a bottle of wine, they retire for the night, and go to sleep.
Some hours later, Holmes wakes up and nudges his faithful friend. “Watson, look up at the sky and tell me what you see.”
“I see millions and millions of stars, Holmes” replies Watson.
“And what do you deduce from that?”
Watson ponders for a minute. “Well, astronomically, it tells me that there are millions of galaxies and potentially billions of planets. Astrologically, I observe that Saturn is in Leo so we should look forward to more refined, respectable hairstyles. Horologically, I deduce that the time is approximately a quarter past three. Meteorologically, I suspect that we will have a beautiful day tomorrow. Theologically, I can see that God is all powerful, and that we are a small and insignificant part of the universe. But what does it tell you, Holmes?”
Holmes is silent for a moment.
“Watson, you idiot!” he says. “Someone has stolen our tent!”

Lights Out

Pardon the delay on the blog--on the night I spoke about Herschel, Uranus and Mary Shelley's vision of Horror at the Astrological Lodge of London, our electricity went off. Even more freaky, the photos of me on the night show mysterious orbs of light. I was joking that I had channeled Mary Shelley. . .maybe I really did!

Freaky. . .

As we're talking about Uranus, here's my super-Uranus joke, with Jupiter conjunct Uranus, perhaps with a Mars transit. . .

The year is 2222 and Mike and Maureen land on Mars after accumulating enough frequent flier miles. They meet a Martian couple and are talking about all sorts of things. Mike asks if Mars has a stock market, if they have laptop computers, how they make money, etc.

Finally, Maureen brings up the subject of sex."Just how do you guys do it?" asks Maureen.

The Martian responds, "Pretty much the way you do."

A discussion ensues and finally the couples decide to swap partners for the night and experience one another. Maureen and the male Martian go off to a bedroom where the Martian strips. He's got only a teeny, weenie member - about half an inch long and just a quarter inch thick.

"I don't think this is going to work," says Maureen.

"Why?" he asks, "What's the matter?”

"Well," she replies, "it's just not long enough to reach me!",

"No problem," he says, and proceeds to slap his forehead with his palm. With each slap of his forehead, his member grows until it's quite impressively long.

"Well," she says, "that's quite impressive, but it's still pretty narrow.”

"No problem," he says, and starts pulling his ears. With each pull, his member grows wider and wider until the entire measurement is extremely exciting to the woman.

"Wow!" she exclaims, as they fell into bed and made mad, passionate love. The next day the couples rejoin their normal partners and go their separate ways.

As they walk along, Mike asks, "Well, was it any good?”

"I hate to say it," says Maureen, "but it was pretty wonderful. How about you?”

"It was horrible," he replies, "all I got was a headache...she kept slapping my forehead and pulling my ears."

Back to school

*sigh*
Now I'm back at school (in my other life, I'm a teacher), this calls for a special joke with. . .a yod (there's a photo of one to the left). Here's my Mars in the 8th quincunx the ascendant sextile Saturn in the 3rd (clearly this could only exist in a quadrant-based house system):

A high school English teacher reminds her class of tomorrow’s final exam. She tells the class there would be no excuse for not showing up, except for serious injury or illness, or a death in the student’s immediate family.

A smart-ass jock in the back of the room asks, "What about extreme sexual exhaustion?" The entire class does its best to stifle their laughter and snickering.

When silence is restored, the teacher smiles sympathetically at the student, shakes her head, and sweetly says: "Not an excuse. You can use your other hand to write with."

Cleaning up the underworld

I couldn't decide whether to sing sexy sexagenarian Harrison Ford's praises or blow cyber raspberries at Boris Johnson for "banning" alcohol on public transport. So I thought, in true Gemini-rising style, I'd do both.

Goddamn, that Harrison Ford is one hot old man. He's sixty-six this year? Blimey. Why am I on about Harrison? I went to see the Indiana Jones flick last night with my own sexy sexagenarian (well, I do have Capricorn one the 8th house cusp). A lot of these sexy sexagenarian's were born during the Saturn/Pluto conjunction of 1946 (actually Harrison was born a few years before so strictly speaking he doesn't count--however, he does have Pluto transiting his progressed Moon) which means that their second Saturn return would trigger that smouldering sensuality of Pluto in Leo. Think Steven Tyler of Aerosmith and Mick Jagger. Oh and for the boys, Susan Sarandon.

Boris Johnson has just banned drinking alcohol on public transport. Oh yeah right, that'll work. Who's going to enforce that one? Transport police? They can't even stop mobs of teenagers rampaging through the aisles emancipating everyone of their wallets and electronic goodies. I would suggest we should ban stupid hairstyles on men but half the male astrologers would be in the clink and we have so few as it is.

OK, in honour of today's sexy sexagenarians and stupid ideas from our new mayor of London that will never work, a special, triple conjunction joke appropriate for a Sunday.

Jupiter, Saturn, Neptune cj in the 9th house

Billy was a painter and alcoholic who was down on his luck. One day, the local vicar offered to pay him for repainting the local cathedral but because of his unreliability, would only pay after the job was finished. So Billy checked his inventory and after a few quick calculations, realised he would be quite short of paint. Not one to be easily discouraged, he mixed the good paint with some turps and got to work. When he finished, everyone was very impressed. The new paint job was just what was needed. So the vicar paid Billy and Billy went out to buy a few cans of Stella to celebrate. On the way back, Billy decided he would have a final look at his mighty fine work. To his surprise, a crowd had also gathered to join in admiration. Just then, clouds began to gather and very soon, it began to rain. It didn't take long for the crowd to notice that Billy's paint was washing away. The crowd turned on poor Billy and just as they were about to burn him at the stake, Billy cried out to God for help.

"I am so sorry, God! Please help me!" he hollered. Suddenly, there was a mighty crack of lightning and from the sky, a terrifying finger of flame emerged pointing straight a Billy. Simultaneously, the ropes that bound him, burned away.

"Now go," a voiced boomed, "re-paint and thin no more."

Alex Trenoweth at the United Astrology Conference

My buddy Jules Genik not only sat through my "Gone With the Wind: The Zodiacal Parade" presentation at the United Astrology Conference, she took a few photos too! Thanks for your support, Jules!

So here's me in full lecture mode:

Above is me with Margaret Mitchell, author of "Gone With the Wind" in the back ground.

Below is yours truly sans hat--it kept falling off!

Haha--I felt like such a fool walking around the conference trying to get people to come to my lecture. . .but they'll never forget me in Denver!

Jules said she took a lot of photos but only a few turned out because I moved around so quickly.

Well, I was trying to balance a very big hat whilst taking very shallow breaths, making sure my hoops didn't obscure anyone's vision and operating the remote control for the PPP and trying to keep the dress from falling off my heaving bosoms. I say it's a very good thing I have so much Mercury in my chart (Gemini rising, Mercury (retrograde) in Leo in the 3rd, cj the IC!). Oh by the way, don't believe all the bad stuff you hear about retrograde planets! Here's a joke to demonstrate my point:

Mercury Retrograde in 9th
A team of archaeologists is excavating in Israel when they find a cave with the symbols of a woman, a donkey, a shovel, a fish, and a Star of David on the wall.

The head archaeologist points to the first drawing. “This indicates that these people were family oriented and held women in high esteem.” he says. “The donkey shows they were smart enough to use animals to till the soil. The shovel means they were able to forge tools. Even further proof of high intelligence is the fish: If famine hit the earth, they would take to the sea for food. The last symbol is the Star of David, telling us they were Hebrews.”

The second archaeologist shakes his head. “Hebrew is read from right to left,” he explains. “It says, ‘Holy Mackerel, Dig the Ass on that Chick!’”

No reflection on Thomas a Becket. . .

One of the things that attracted me to live in England was the very moving story of Thomas Becket's murder by Henry II in Canterbury Cathedral. What a shame it took me some 18 years to finally get around to seeing this glorious place.

The first picture is the sculpture at the very place Becket's body was found, with the blades of one of the swords actually embedded in the floor.

Alex Trenoweth between a hot and a sharp place.














Inside the Canterbury Cathedral. So beautiful, it really does take your breath away. But not your sense of humour.

Uh oh, I feel a joke coming on. . .

Neptune in 9th opp Jupiter in 3rd
A minister dies and is waiting in line at the Pearly Gates. Ahead of him is a guy who's dressed in sunglasses, a loud shirt, leather jacket, and jeans. Saint Peter addresses this guy: "Who are you, so that I may know whether or not to admit you to the Kingdom of Heaven?"

The guy replies: "I'm Joe Cohen, taxi driver, of Noo Yawk City." St. Peter consults his list.

He smiles and says to the taxi driver, "Take this silken robe and golden staff and enter the Kingdom of Heaven." The taxi driver goes into Heaven with his robe and staff, and it's the minister's turn.

He stands erect and booms out, "I am Joseph Snow, pastor of Calvary Church for the last forty-three years." St. Peter consults his list.

He says to the minister, "Take this cotton robe and wooden staff and enter the Kingdom of Heaven."

"Just a minute," says the minister. "That man was a taxi driver, and he gets a silken robe and golden staff. How can this be?"

"Up here, we work by results," says Saint Peter. "While you preached, people slept; while he drove, people prayed."

Sun?

I know it's the end of May in London but can't we have a little break from grey skies? Reminds me of a joke I once heard. . .

Jupiter in Pisces in 9th square Neptune in 12th

A very religious man wanted to prove his faith in God. So, he tied himself to a pylon in the ocean, with the water up to his chest. As the tide started to come in, a boat came by.

The man in the boat said, "Hey, what are you doing? Get in my boat and I will save you." At which time the man said that he had total faith in God and that He would not let him drown. As the water neared his head, another boat came by. The man stopped and said the same thing. To which the near drowning man stated,

"I have total faith in my God. He will not let me drown."

So, the boat went away. A third boat came by. This boater was frantic, being that the water was lapping at the man's nose. But the response was the same. As the last boat left, the water rose above his head and the man drowned. Walking around Heaven, the man was clearly confused. Then he saw God.

"Lord, I had total faith in You. Why would You let me down like that? You made no effort to stop the tide!"

At which time God stated, "Holy Cow, man, what more did you want from Me? I sent you three boats!!!"

Conjunctions

Give it up for. . .Uranus!

On a bleak, wet, miserable Bank Holiday Monday, my husband-to-be and I heavily hinted that we would love to drop in on our friends Evie and Frank McGillion. After procuring an invite, we headed off to the wilds of South London where we would be later joined by astrology sceptic Geoffrey Dean. In the meantime, Frank loaded us up with good books to read and Evie made sure our stomachs were fortified for the impending visit.

"Whatever you do, don't tell him I'm an astrologer!" I insisted. My assumption that Geoffrey would be a curmudgeonly, academically pious, provocateur of all things astrological were based on two things: his lecture at a Kepler conference and his lecture at the Sophia Centre. He slaughtered astrology--and astrologers--like a modern day Pico and had the reputation for ruining the day of many a star gazer. Under fire, would I be able to maintain a little decorum? With Mercury in Leo (retrograde and all), hell no. Best to avoid the "A" word. Or so I thought. . .

As it turned out, Geoffrey had already heard of me (what?) and was impeccably charming, delightful and intellectually energetic (Geoff, I hope this doesn't ruin your reptutation). It was an evening full of surprises, in true Uranian style. And here's the photo to prove it. . .

From the left: Frank McGillion, Alex Trenoweth, Geoffrey Dean and Evie McGillion.

In honour of the occasion, here's my Saturn in the 9th house opposite Jupiter in the 3rd joke (get stuffed, Nick Campion):

WHY GOD NEVER RECEIVED A PHD
1. He had only one major publication.

2. It was in Hebrew.

3. It had no references.

4. It wasn't published in a refereed journal.
5. Some even doubt he wrote it by himself.

6. It may be true that he created the world, but what has he done since then?

7. His cooperative efforts have been quite limited.

8. The scientific community has had a hard time replicating his results.

9. He never applied to the ethics board for permission to use human subjects.

10. When one experiment went awry he tried to cover it by drowning his subjects.

11. When subjects didn't behave as predicted, he deleted them from the sample.

12. He rarely came to class, just told students to read the book.

13. Some say he had his son teach the class.

14. He expelled his first two students for learning.

15. Although there were only 10 requirements, most of his students failed his tests.

16. His office hours were infrequent and usually held on a mountain top.

17. No record of working well with colleagues.

Fame

As I recently had a brush with fame, I thought I should tell my Jupiter conjunct the Sun on the MC joke:

Bill and Ned walk into a fast food joint one afternoon to get lunch. Bill orders and the cashier gives him his meal. Ned goes up to order and the cashier greets him with "Hello Ned! How are you? Hey everybody! Ned's here!"

Everybody in the restaurant comes up and says hello to Ned. After everyone has greeted him, Bill and Ned sit down and begin to eat.

"Ned, you're pretty popular!" says Bill.

"I'm the most popular man in the world," says Ned.

"Now Ned," says Bill, "You're pretty popular but you're not the most popular man in the world."

"Oh yeah?" Ned replies "I'll bet you a thousand dollars that I'm friends with anybody you can name!"

"That so?" answers Bill, "How about the President of the United States?"

"Let's go!" says Ned. The two fly to Washington and knock on the front door of the White House. The president answers, "Ned! How are you doing? I haven't seen you in ages!"

The three go play a round of golf and then leave.

"That was luck!" says Bill, "Two thousand says your not friends with the Queen of England!"

"Let's go!" says Ned.

The two fly to Buckingham Palace and, sure enough, are greeted by the Queen. ''Hello Ned my boy! What have you been up to these days?"

They enter the palace and have some tea and leave.

Frustrated, Bill says, "Double or nothing, you don't know the Pope!"
"Benny!" says Ned,

"Let's go!"

When they get to the Vatican, Ned instructs Bill to wait outside and Ned will come out on the balcony with his arm around the Pope. After a while, a crowd gathers to hear the Pope speak. And as told by Ned, when the Pope came out, Ned's arm was wrapped around him. Ned looks down from the balcony and see's Bill passed out on the ground. He rushes down and wakes him up.

"Bill! Bill! Wake up!"

Bill opens his eyes and says, "Ned. You're the most popular man in the world."

"I told you that, Bill," says Ned, "but you didn't faint when I knew the President! You didn't faint when I knew the Queen!"

"Well I was shocked that you knew the Pope," says Bill. "But I just couldn't take it when the guy next to me tapped me on the shoulder and said "Who's that up there with Ned?"

Rockin' the Universe back at home

I've just returned from the United Astrology Conference in Denver Colorado where I was a speaker on the main programme. I'm still a little jet-lagged but nonetheless, fired up about getting this blog up and running. Each entry will feature a joke with astrological significators perhaps with a some feedback on an astrological event I've attended or heard about. I'd like to demonstrate that astrology is so much more than star sign columns. Bear with me whilst I get photos and articles together.

Anyway, to start us off. . .here's my Saturn in the 8th house ruling Capricorn in the 7th house joke:

The husband had just finished reading a new book, 'YOU CAN BE THE MAN OF YOUR HOUSE'. He stormed into the kitchen and walked directly up to his wife. Pointing a finger in her face, he said sternly, "From now on, you need to know that I AM the MAN of this house, and my word is law! You will prepare me a gourmet meal tonight, and when I'm finished eating my meal, you will serve me a sumptuous dessert afterward. Then, after dinner, you are going to go upstairs with me, and we will have the sex that I want. After that, you are going to draw me my bath so I can relax. You will wash my back and towel me dry and bring me my robe. Then you will massage my feet and hands. Then after that's done, guess who's going to dress me and comb my hair?"

His wife replied, "The funeral director would be my guess."