Before reading this text, you may want to refer to my Natal Chart. It may illuminate some important facets of ME[1] which are relevant to the views presented herein.
Astrology: An Art? A Science? Or Neither?
The validity question. Let's preface this essay with an affirmation of the validity of Astrological Theory. Is it a science? An art? A religion? A cult? I know not. And rather than proving the validity of astrology by defining and categorizing it in terms of known systems, it seems more appropriate to (attempt to) leave it non-labeled and non-categorized. Surprisingly enough, such systematization is exactly what bounds and limits any discourse. I would rather behold the myriad of possible meanings, experience the variety of directions astrology might take, instead of limiting my attempt at a critical interpretation by means of a capriciously superficial and cursory categorization. My perspective on astro*science fully acknowledges and very much functions on the historic dialectic which opposes Astrology (as marginalized and invalid) to Science (as central and definitive). Since my reading of any text, in its astrological terms, thus is always already invalid, I will not waste my time delineating and defining its truth-value. Skepticism is the most preferable attitude a reader may take to any discourse, written or otherwise, and I invite the astrologically uninformed to deconstruct, criticize, and dismember my arguments. It is obviously the most productive and stimulating method of any type of dialogue. I choose to place ultimate faith and trust in the planets, although astrological theory is indeed historically deemed as a questionable "entity;" constantly functioning as "The Other" of respected belief systems. I do believe strongly that Astrology should be recognized and respected as a complex and historically significant system of beliefs. My blood boils and I desire to severely de(con)struct those provincial and disrespectful fools who choose to insult the Most Sacred Science of the Planets. Pity on those ignorant fools, they have not the courage enough to deconstruct their own myths, their own complexities which constitute the Great Narrative of their lives: all of which is evident in their Natal Chart. Let ye who choose to fail to believe not be the victim of your own lack of insight into thine own self, thine own soul. Whilst you mock and slur me in the abject names of Rationality and Science - I behold your inadequacies and rationalize them to myself by means of the very system that you have always marginalized. Very well. Now that all are aware of my indifference to those who choose not to believe, and my putrid and rank contempt for those who fail to respect a view somewhat different from their own, I will construct a somewhat fragmented attempt to define and explore Astrological Discourse.
* * * * * * *
What is the meaning of life? schizo-individuals so often wonder...such innocent bemusement inspires the human brain upon all types of meandering and nonsensical paths. I will not privilege such an imbecilic question's underlying inanity and absurdity with an answer. It is painfully obvious, to even the most bumbling and idiotic of fools where the meaning to this so-called life is found. (Ask yourself - do you - right now know what the answer is? I dare you to ask yourself: Do you know the meaning of your life?)
Time is a bounded entity/system/order (what is time? do you know? please let me know...) that constricts the imaginations of all who are slaves to the mechanical ticking of the modern condition. Time is merely so-called "civilized" man's pathetic attempt to place himself in a frame of reference, so that he may refer to himself, validate his existence, and thus temporally situate himself in an all too comfortable linear existence. And also space, our concepts of which were altered in the "modern" era, during which we systematized various means by which we refer to ourselves and prove we are situated "somewhere" (the galaxy, the earth, the city, the country...). The ultimate fragility of the time/space continuum by which humankind precariously maintains a schizo-stability[2] is rarely addressed. This schizo-sensibility is validated only in the terms of its very own schizo-rationality which was pre ordained some time ago in History...in one of the Sacred Texts[3]... This fragility is threatened severely by any validation of Astrological Theory, which explodes/threatens/destroys modern notions of temporal and spatial linearity. Attempts to inscribe astrological discourse within linear notions of space and time produce sickening results. Modern man's prostitution of astrological discourse as the Other of science, its use as merely a capitalist scam to exploit the "naive masses", must be reversed and exposed as a product of the schizo-culture within which we live. The planetary forces are now favorable for the exploration of astrological discourse that exposes the psychotic nature of our very own history, and threatens the spatial-temporal matrix upon which it precariously rests.[4] Breaking down systems of meaning is easy once one psychotically imagines oneself outside of it.[5] However, any opposing forces exerted (that is, any attempt to invalidate the system by denying its power in delineating truth value) on the intricately always already collapsing system are 'systematically' ingested, digested, and then excreted through one of the various orifices of its bounded limited matrix. I do not wish to efface my very own relationship to the system. I AM a product of the schizo-society. I REPRESENT the schizo-sensibility by the very nature of my own existence. Regurgitating the totality of evil which is (me=) the system in language, that is entering the discourse of intellectual criticism, is not my goal. I love myself, and thus, choose not to turn the blade upon my own flesh.
I can say "I hate the system. I wish to kill the system. If the system was represented by that wolf over there, I would kill the wolf. I would smash in its skull with a large stone pummel. I would then slice its warm flesh with the sharp evil blade of my knife. As the thick gooey blood begins to seep from the just separated slivers of flesh and fur, I begin to slash, slice, tear, my beloved blade rips through the tender flesh. Hunks of meat go flying through the air in all directions. Blood spurts nonchalantly in the air as the tiny little tip of my blade nips major veins and arteries. Die!!! Die!!! Die System die!!! is my mantra; I repeat it over and over again, rhythmically, in time to thrust of my arm as I shred the cadaver of the wolf that once was the system...and is, now, a magenta heap of dismemberment..." I pause, relieved to have destroyed the wolf which represented the system. Needless to say (at the risk of sounding cynical), but nevertheless let it be restated: criticism, no matter how revolutionary, is always in vain. I may hack and hack away at the bloody bones of the wolf, but what is left? Merely bits and pieces of bloody flesh, clinging to the splintered bones... O yes, I do enjoy stabbing about the meat wildly. However, what do these fleeting moments of carnal pleasure actually signify? Nothing at all but chopping. Chop chop away, imbecilic yet unwilling disciples of the preordained order. Hack, hack away. I will not sublimate my own self-hatred into an orgiastic blood feast in which "the system" is me, and I am hacking away at myself. This is exactly what the Evil Order of Schizo-Society (the American Government is one agency of the order, that is one in a countless infinity) wants the cursed individuals to do: to hack and chop. To keep busy with the hacking and chopping and not notice The Truth, which just snuck around the corner, afraid of the massive blade. This is not a gender issue, nor a class issue. No, the "issue" which I have started to hack and chop away at bears no name: is not privileged enough in our language to be articulated. I am talking about sickness, a very secret sickness that is eating away at the schizo-sensibility. It is the perpetuation of evil, it is the exaltation of knowing as being-real, it is evil which is termed good, it is the horror of living, it is the denial of all of the above and the maintenance of schizo-societal ideals which is (and is not) the "sickness" of which I speak. We are all infected. And guess what. There is no cure.
* The criticism of "The System"[6] is nothing more but ritualized intellectual masturbation. Every half-witted pseudo-intellectual has some critique of "The System." We all know the system sucks. Yet society remains the whore of the system, allowing its virgin daughters to be gang raped by schizoids, the whore mothers being fucked and sucking the dick of the patriarchal pig cock. The chaotic orgiastic fuckfest of course does not exist, is not acknowledged by the schizoid creatures. The few paranoid schizoids (schiz-noids) at various times? as if awoke from a drug induced stupor cry out with passion: "Wait! The System is fucking me up the asshole! I am getting fucked like a whore![7] But I cannot achieve orgasm!" So they become a little educated, learn how to use big words and write "criticism."[8]
A sigh of relief as the weary little intellectual sits down at his desk having finished his dissertation: Deconstruction of The System and heaves heavily, as he imagines he feels the hard cock of The System ease its way from his sore and bleeding rectum. He falls asleep. He dreams a psychotic dream, in which the System does not exist. He has deconstructed the system. He has criticized society for the horror that it "truly" is. He smiles an innocent smile in his sleep. Then he feels something strange near his lips. He brushes it away. But then he feels something brushing his chapped lips ever so softly. Alas! It is nothing other than the erect penis of the system, forcing its way into his mouth once again, ripping away his tender epiglottis, spewing venomous semen down his trachea, choking, suffocating him. The system is ramming its cock down his throat. He wakes up in a sweat. He looks down at his typewriter, relieved to find the last sentence of his dissertation in place. "Ah. The horror is over, I understand the system and the horror and evil, I wrote all about it in my doctoral dissertation. I now exist outside of the system, safe from its terror. That was merely a dream, an illusion, as opposed to reality, which I am experiencing now." Then he gets up to stretch, feeling cramped from sitting upright at his desk for forty eight hours straight, hacking and chopping away via the keys of his typewriter. Mr. Schizoid bends down to take his old tattered shoes off of his weary, callused feet. He thinks to himself, "My treatise on society in which I solve everything by my insightful critiques may help me get an assistant professorship. Then maybe I could get some new shoes, because boy these are raggled and bedraggled." All of a sudden, he yelps as a cock rams him in his asshole. "Oh no! The patriarchal schizoid-machine is ramming its erect diseased cock up my already sore rectum!! But I'm not sleeping anymore! I thought that I dismantled the system!" He tries to refer to The Definitive Guide on Paranoiac Hallucinations by Moe F. Greezley, PhD. He can't find it in the mess of text that is his tiny room. He runs and runs to find the text, to see of which mental disease these wild hallucinations are symptomatic. It is a sorry sight. I would rather not describe it, but, then again, why not? Ever see a dog chase its tail? Well: Sir Schizoid is running around his institutionally provided living matrix (i.e. 90 square foot room) constantly looking for his definitive guide, all the while turning around to get a glimpse of the painfully erect cock which is ramming him in the asshole. He's freaking. Then he begins to be programmed by the schizoid-machine. He begins to rock and moan, slightly surprised at himself. He gives up his search, and becomes infected.
Hear this, you tidy little condescending intellectuals, hear this: you are always already being fucked by the system. Your naive little criticisms are merely your graduation from just being fucked to being able to achieve orgasm. "Oh." schizo-dude screams. "Its because my dad left home when I was eight, that's why I like you to rape me like this. Its because I sublimated my desire to kill my father and fuck my mother, that's why I like to suck and take patriarchal cock in the ass." Slowly it dawns on him: he likes to feel the rock hard phallocracy penetrating the inner depths of his tight little rectum. Then, as he bends over to facilitate the schizo-machines cock into his asshole, he finally admits, "Oh, I kind of like getting fucked up the ass like this." He slowly repeats at lightening speed one million insightful readings of why he loves being fucked like a whore, and finally approaches the thousandth plateau, orgasming wildly. So attention intellectual pig cock suckers: You snicker knowledgeably as if you understand everything, as if you are able to divorce yourself, stop being continuously raped by the system you think you deconstruct. But no, you participate willingly in the orgy, desiring the erect phallus of the system to be rammed into your every orifice.
Ok. Super. Let's get on with it.
Astrology treats every person as a text that may be read and interpreted accordingly. The singlemost important document is one's Natal Chart, which is a "static" representation of the heavens at any given moment in schizo-time for any given schizo-location. The positions of the Planets relative to the Earth are Grand Signifcators. The positions of the planets IN SIGNS as well as IN HOUSES may be read and interpreted in a multiplicity of ways. Most average Western schizoids are aware of astrology in the most minimal sense: that is they are aware of their Sun-Sign only. However, the entire Natal Chart must be calculated and studied.
My unique "reading" of Astrological Theory is ONE of an infinite number. So I invite dissension and opposition. At times the reader is required to emphatically DENY the truth-value of my theories. I will not efface the "schizo-reality" of my discourse. It is manipulative, strategic. I will utilize secret tactics to illustrate my ideas. So beware, o uninformed reader: I might frighten you with what I have to say. You may take this essay either in absolute or relative terms. I care not. But DO NOT make way into this discourse without first asking yourself if you are prepared for the horror, the absolute evil of...
The "Nature" of the Discourse
Astrological discourse has survived millenia and has been consumed and excreted by various political, religious, and social systems. Our contemporary notions of astrological codes is somewhat perverted. My perception of astrological discourse is as a complex signifying system which, when mobilized in a specific way, facilitates the discussion of the essence of any narrative. It is particularly useful for analyzing one's life narrative, in all tenses: past, present, as well as future. It has been a discourse since "discourse" per se did not exist.
Criticism is quite modern, however. Human kind at some point some time ago decided that LOGIC was GOD. I believe this was the Age of Reason. (I care not to privilege HISTORY as TRUTH.) I may be wrong. Perhaps criticism was born during the Age of Aries, not during the Age of Pisces. I care not. Criticism exists today as the supreme means by which to fetishize any object: especially in written form. But what is considered to be legitimate "criticism" (by the establishment = academia) is often constructed in the most counterproductive manner, making an actual "critical reading" impossible. That is; criticism is yet another institution governed by the politics of separation. Separation between the critic and the object that she is analyzing. All "legitimate criticism" is ideally OBJECTIVE - in more ways than one. First of all, the work being assessed is only experienced as an object - an inanimate thing, an impossibly narrow definition. Second of all, the language of criticism is objective in form - that is - a critic aspires to be linguistically objective. These two characteristics of institutionalized criticism encapsulate the essence of its impossibility. Impossibility of demonstrating "knowledge."
True criticism is highly personal and subjective. Criticism is about me, not about I. When engaging in criticism, you are not deconstructing the distanced object, but merely relating your position relative to that object. Thus in reality are not objectively "critiquing" the work, but merely talking about yourself. The sublimation of the true personal nature of criticism apparent in its academic and political manifestations is actually quite beautiful. However, it will rot and die. The stage between the so-called Age of Reason and the current coming of a New Age is easily seen in the revolution of criticism as an art form. Criticism will never be definitive. It will always remain, not a "handmaiden" to the arts, but an art in itself. However, a highly subjective account of emotional and intellectual reaction to a text is not legitimate as criticism. Criticism must conform to the eeevil god LOGIC. But, alas, if one refutes logic, which is impossible to do from within logical systems but may be achieved in paranoiac fantasies, it is readily apparent that TRUE criticism is written proactively instead of reactively. Not merely a subjective recounting of your reactions to the text, but also an aggressive attempt to enmark that text, change it forever, with your criticism.
What does this have to do with astrology? Well, when I said that Astrology was Society's Oldest Science, and that Criticism was "born" during the Age of Reason, I was most obviously mocking the form of analysis which I Detest and Loathe. That is, originary analysis. The origins of neither of these two entities: astrology or criticism, exist. Temporal and spatial matrices are superimposed over the schizorationality and derive their power through it. The entire preceding section on "The Nature of the Discourse" was utter bullshit. How can I discuss the nature of a system that does not really exist? How can I discuss the origins of reason? The origins of so-called "critical discourse?" The idea is completely ludicrous. And likewise, the idea of anybody saying anything about anything is completely ridiculous. I am ridiculous for even writing, talking, or breathing. Nothing is true. Information is evil. If you believe anything you are evil.
[1]See The Repudiation of the Postmodern I: A Discourse of Me, Katherine Raymond, Rhizome Inc.
[2]define schizo-sensibility all schizo terms (Anti-Oedipus) Schizophrenia as a product of the denial of subtext - society has two personalities - the denial of the psychotic...
[3]I meant to say Sacred here but typed Scared instead. There are many ways to make this mistake meaningful. Maybe I'm scared of insulting the gods...maybe the Sacred Texts are indeed "scared" of being exposed as...
[4]Some of the most important planetary transits that affect the schizo-society (as opposed to the individual) are transits of Pluto. Pluto is the outermost planet (thus according to linear temporal notions: a generational indicator since many people have Pluto in the same sign born at the same time period) and brings intense and drastic change wherever it is situated (in schizo-space, that is). Pluto has just recently moved into Sagittarius, the sign dealing with philosophical/religious issues. For the previous 12 years Pluto was direct in its own sign, Scorpio, obviously an intense placement, and has wreaked havoc on the schizo-societies Eighth house issues. Its "current" schizo-location in Sagittarius, which represents Ninth House issues, will definitely facilitate the schizo-systematic assimilation (and then of course regurgitation) of astrological discourse into the (other) matrix.
[5]It is acknowledged that one can never truly disentangle oneself from The System; but one can create a myth in which he is outside of The System. From within this paranoiac fantasy "other" systems may exist (The System does not validate any other system) and the schizo-state may be analyzed, albeit from a sidelong, distorted view. While schizoids limit and bound the possibilities of your perspective, which threatens their hegemony, the paranoiac may emphatically deny the schizoid rationality its power. This power itself (self perpetuating life force of The System - the creation of schizoids who validate by its existence) once appropriated by the now paranoiac schizoid, may be utilized from within The System to dismantle and destroy it (in only a mythological sense of course).
[6]Define "The System" in terms of Deleuze and Guattari/Baudriallard = capitalist/ Judeo-Christian = define what comprises and bounds the system
[7]Getting fucked like a whore - i.e.. not being paid... to quote Queen Latifah..."
[8]A good metaphor for this process of ritualized intellectual masturbation.
