Friday, November 4, 2016

The Flailing Tail

4th November 2016

Four days out from the election of the century, and I am closing my eyes, curling into a fetal position and just like the rest of America, praying for it to be over. I have always thought of the American political system as a circus, and this election cycle has left no doubt about that. We've had the high flyers, the bullshit ringmasters, the poodles dancing on their hind legs, the blond contortionists, the elephants in ballet tutus - and that's just the Republican side of the equation. 

So, moving right along... A long, long time ago, I was born at the time on the pagan calendar of  Samhain (pronounced Sa-vhoon.)  This is the start of the dark half of the year which ends on another pagan festival, Mayday (or Beltaine.) I am she who ushers in the dark days. 
And dark days we are in, not because, as Trump forecasts, everything is going down the tubes, but because we are in the last days and hours of what Michael Moore refers to as a ten-thousand year run of the male hierarchy. Women are voting for Hillary, men are voting for Trump. I grew up in a country where the overlords put down the lifeblood of the people by making everything to do with them illegal - in the old days, uprisings in Scotland were punishable by death, in the not-so-old days, speaking the indigenous language was punishable by your classroom teacher. Well, the classroom teacher, in the shape of Comey, just put Hillary Clinton in the corner for having the audacity to think she could become the leader of the "free world." It is the last flail of the male tail.

For the astrologists among us, the dark era of Pices is on its way out, the fish has outstayed its welcome. The new age of Aquarius is being ushered in by whatever winds of history are made of,  and I have to believe they have at least something to do with balance and the urge towards the light.  

Whether or not Hillary wins the presidency, the days of the old boys club are over. No wonder they're running around, brandishing their sticks and singing their laments of the sinking ship. 

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