September 3rd, 2014

// of Assistants

Under the Virgoan tone, I’ve come to note the importance of a friend by your side, managing your books and keeping numbers in order, no stone unturned. Granted, there are many stones atop the Earth, and “the virgin” is undaunted to face any appointed task, not yet tainted by the sting of experience and the depression that comes with growing up and facing the world.

Why not, in the sign that precedes partnership, we are given the fullest extension of self through another without “the other?” Or, you yourself are providing service toward efforts that don’t immediately return gain, as it might seem on the surface.

When couples separate or undergo divorce after decades of togetherness, it’s been told that one or the other feels as if a part of their brain has been removed. That other has been by their side, and they fall into place with each other, automatically filling voids and repairing weaknesses, for better or for worse, to act as a unit, ideally. If I hire an assistant, I’m asking that person to operate as a part of my brain, therefore freeing up room for me to explore various realms of psychedelia, conquer world governments, and create worlds of story that may not otherwise leave the crevices of the mind. A formal partner might hold too many rightfully unwarranted opinions.

Yet, whom is providing the greater service? Aggrandizement aside, it’s those unselfish efforts that provide truer rewards, and that’s difficult to mirror in someone bent on world domination.

// of Assistance

Today, the Sun in Virgo aspects Pluto in Capricorn, heightening any earthly service or endeavors we humans caught in the wheel of fortune seek to engage. Virgo is a misunderstood archetype, because, I guess, no one wants to work? Or perhaps, it’s the menial shit we fear that could clog our free time. Leave that to the robots.

Eventually, we’ll build some great robot army to mine gold from deep under the layers of the planet. Skin will no longer be judged by color but by substance and texture. And, what if these robots attain higher consciousness? Will they then invent lesser robots to do their bidding? When does the chain of slavery end?

There’s always work to be done, and ask yourself what trivial delights you might relish on your way to that beloved higher calling. Everything is Shiva, even the black latex fence paint.

// of Assist Ants

Lo, behold the white ant! Much can be learned from the greatest soldiers on the planet, as the operate under devout singularity. There is no straying from each individual task, as there is no need to be anything other than its function of service.

The greatest meditators, the ant is in constant unison with its reality, connected with surroundings though receiving instinctive messages on how to create, spread, and function with the greatest return for the hive. There is no mourning for death, because the white ant understands its place within the cycle of life.

As proclaimed “thinkers,” albeit adolescent, humans seek to unveil the curtain and do any number of what not to do, to the point of self-destruction. Why? To unmask the players? When the jig is up, then what? Often the seeker returns to his or her point of origin, and takes up once more the mantle of menials, because the only point of function is to function itself, and what better way to function than to live in the way that best describes you, therein bringing you dumb joy, separate from the game within the game that we have so crudely dubbed, “society.”

// of Ass is Dance

What better way to express the joys of stupidity than shaking what your mother gave you? Entirely specific forms of study have erupted from the basic desire to move, and posture, and fill that chemical form of ours with adrenaline and serotonin, perhaps gain the attention of another and proceed to unite immune systems to create yet another human with greater resilience to the ever-evolving bacteria consistently murdering us all.

Yet again, we return to specific functions and particularly evolved form, attentive to details only the virgin could see. To the chaste, that ass is a sacred temple yet undiscovered. When Indiana Jones has visited his umpteenth ancient ruin, a certain grandeur is lost from the first. Perhaps he is a master archeologist, able to navigate and traverse puzzles and traps with ease, but he’ll never forget that first time, when he toppled through mostly on blind luck and somehow survived. Only a fool’s errand separated him from those scattered as bones in the spiky pits below him.

Keep at it, don’t be afraid to look like an idiot or die trying, and you might become a better dancer.

// of Asses-Tense

As signature movement grows as a form of expression, so we communicate and dance upon the page, language moving, flowing, poetry becoming a thing, and we again create, out of practice. And, astrologers argue Mercury’s relevance as the ruler of Virgo.

In time, the great reluctance of effort will fold in on itself and the mountains will have no choice to erupt, perhaps then we will be gods ourselves and have the interest and ability to create new types of asses with which to stay fascinated. Upon realization that we, in fact, created ourselves, how appreciative we will be on the utter perfection of the braying ass.

// of St. Francis of Assisi’s Taints

In what dimension do we place ourselves, when speaking of the past? There are as many histories as there are historians, and as we envision the future from the present, we change the past.

The great namesake of our current Pope had the loveliest Venus in late Virgo, no doubt giving him the enormous need to keep his genitals neat and trim, including the area between his balls and anus. Perhaps he hired an assistant to make sure he remained the cleanest for his services to God. Because God loves a fresh taint. Those who might dispute that claim, I only ask, why wouldn’t He?

Here is my St. Francis, the renowned receiver of stigmata, who no doubt felt the blood flow through and up his spine, achieving the orgasm of the sight of God through his service to the planet. Legend has it that he spoke to birds long before any Disney princess, and even convinced a wolf to stop eating people. These are all cool superpowers, but none compare to his dedication to poverty and the cleansing of material needs, walking the earth alongside her, as a friend.

St. Francis was a humanitarian and environmentalist, inspired to assist and aid others of any kind, and the animals he saw as brothers and sisters. What greater service is there than to the planet underneath our feet?