Now, today’s choice reruns:
(This is the birth data for Nadya Suleman and her children — all fourteen of them. The actual astrological analysis — what the numbers have to say about the mother and children involved — is here.)
Nadya Suleman was born July 11, 1975, time unknown, Fullerton, California. Please note that some sources, including Wikipedia, have given a birth date of October 12, 1975. However, all fourteen of her kid’s Birth Certificates give her date of birth as July 11th, so I’m going to go with that one.
The original Six:
May 16, 2001, Los Angeles, 1:05 AM
June 30, 2002, Los Angeles, 1:14 AM
August 20, 2003, Los Angeles, 4:43 AM
March 16, 2005, Los Angeles, 2:34 AM
And finally, the twins:
October 1, 2006, Los Angeles (Baldwin Park county) 3:33 PM
October 1, 2006, Los Angeles (Baldwin Park county) 3:35 PM
Birth certificates here.
According to the mother, one of the first six has Attention Deficit Hyperactivity disorder (ADHD), one of her children is autistic, and another is only “mildly autistic” (her words, not mine). All three receive federal assistance for their disabilities.
And now, the little, um, miracles of modern technology. All were born January 26, 2009 at the now officially-overworked Kaiser Hospital in Bellflower (Los Angeles County), California:
Noah – 10:43 AM
Maliyah – 10:44 AM
Isaiah – 10:45 AM
Nariyah – 10:45 AM
Jonah – 10:46 AM
Jeremiah – 10:47 AM
Josiah – 10:47 AM
Makai – 10:48
Birth certificates here.
Elijah’s middle name is “Makai,” which got recycled for the last triplet’s first name. Aiden didn’t get a middle name at all. In hindsight, we should perhaps be thankful Nadya was able to give them all different first names.
And please note that the octuplets all have the middle name “Angel.” So much for realistic expectations!
In the next few days I’ll have a closer astrological look at Ms. Suleman and her mountain of children, and what their birth charts say about their Mom and their future. But I’ll have to rest up a bit first. I have eye strain from reading all those birth certificates. So just imagine what feeding time must be like in that three-bedroom house with Nadya and her mom, and darling little Elijah, Amerah, Joshua, Aidan, Calyssa, Caleb, Noah, Maliyah, Isaiah, Nariyah, Jonah, Jeremiah, Josiah, and, um… Dave, was it…?
Continuing the Compatibility series, here’s They’re Off And Running! The Sagittarius Guide To Compatibility.
Second: if you are an Aries woman, you’ve undoubtedly read all about how you and Gemini are compatible. Here, courtesy of the BBC miniseries “Jekyll,” is a practical guide to how the typical Aries woman can keep a Gemini man focused and attentive.
A warning: as with all such relationships in real life… there’s plenty of swearing.
“I know that most men, including those at ease with problems of the greatest complexity, can seldom accept even the simplest and most obvious truth if it be such as would oblige them to admit the falsity of conclusions which they have delighted in explaining to colleagues, which they have proudly taught to others, and which they have woven, thread by thread, into the fabric of their lives.”
We are all prone to The Tolstoy Effect. We expect to see things work a certain way, therefore we do see things work a certain way. The most intellectually dishonest skeptic and the most rigorously scientific astrologer have that in common. This doesn’t just apply to what we call “the paranormal” either.
Consider the phenomenon of “spontaneous remission.” Almost no research has been done into it. Logically, it’s easiest to assume that if a diagnosed incurable illness goes away on its own, the diagnosis is wrong. So perhaps we shouldn’t be surprised if (as one study discovered) only about one in ten cases of spontaneous remission are even reported in the first place. After all, if you were a doctor, would you want to report you may have given a patient a death sentence by accident?
And yet, damned near every doctor out there has seen it happen. “The other doctors may have bungled their diagnoses, but not me. I went over the test results repeatedly, and yet…”
In my case, I’ve spent most of my life expecting electronics to fail at a higher rate than they appear to for the average person. Clocks, microwaves, computers, telephones… they all have an unfortunate tendency to not merely break down, but screw up around me spontaneously. They do so more than they should… and when I am under stress, the phenomenon (string of coincidences?) is dramatically amplified.
As a long-term chronic insomniac, I’ve had the opportunity to have more than one CAT scan and EEG done on myself. If you’ve never had either, let me tell you: they are more uncomfortable than they look on TV. And every time I’ve had one of those tests done, I’ve gotten stressed out. And every time, I get to hear some variation on those magic words: “Um, sorry, we’re having some trouble with the equipment….”
If I was going to blame this on something in my birth chart, I’d blame it on my strongly aspected natal Uranus-Pluto conjunction. All I can tell you for sure is that the ongoing Saturn-Uranus opposition has been twanging on my Uranus-Pluto conjunction (and squaring my natal Sun) for months now, and the problem has been more pronounced the whole time. And yesterday, as the transiting Moon squared the conjunction, this blog vanished for a while. And both my computers developed debilitating issues. And my internet connection slowed to a crawl. And my cordless phone setup stopped working properly.
And (coincidentally, I’m sure) my records have vanished from the Government’s systems.
This is by no means a new thing with me. Inconvenient electromagnetic phenomena have been following me most of my life. It’s only now that I am reluctantly coming to terms with it.
So remember: the next time you think you see a ghost, or a UFO, or have a sudden precognitive flash that something is going to happen (and then it does)… remember: the simplest solution to any given situation is usually the best.
The problem with that, of course, is that sometimes the simplest explanation is just plain crazy.
That, and if there really is such a thing as “mutant super-powers”… why the hell couldn’t I have at least gotten a useful one?
Second, a word on the current “economic crisis”:
Donald Trump’s (born June 14, 1946, 9:51 AM, Queens, New York) three Atlantic City casinos are filing for bankruptcy. And what’s more… this is the third time his casinos have filed for bankruptcy. That’s right: the third time. Anyone who knows anything about probability and statistics will tell you that it takes a special kind of short-sightedness for a casino to go broke even once. But three times?
Transiting Saturn and Uranus have been squaring Donald Trump’s natal Sun, North Node, and Uranus for some time now, so in some ways we should probably be mildly surprised things haven’t been worse. The Sun is the ruler of his Ascendant (public image), and Uranus is the ruler of Trump’s Seventh House, so I’m willing to bet things stink on the domestic front for him of late as well. Wait… is Donald Trump married this week? I can never keep track.
Donald Trump is, in many ways, the living symbol of how Western Capitalism has operated for the last 20 years. For those of you without a degree in Economics, let me save you a couple of years worth of studying:
1) Find a farmer who’s in economic trouble.
2) Wait until he’s desperate and buy his cow at a discount.
3) Grind the cow into hot dogs
4) Stamp your brand name on the hot dogs and resell them for ten times the price per pound of an actual cow.
5) Retire and/or get fired, take a huge “golden parachute” settlement, and skip town before the salmonella and malnutrition breaks out.
About ten percent of the United States GDP is in Banking and Economic Services. In other words, one tenth of the beans go to bean counters, who eat half and then plant the other half. And the last few years the banks have overeaten, and planted what was left over in the sand. Much of the rest of the economy is a matter of buying and reselling, and nothing of real value is actually produced. The bean counters have done well by it, though.
Of course, you and I are stuck cleaning up the mess. We can’t get angry with Trump and Company any more than we can truly be angry with the rabbits who discovered a biological niche and spread all over Australia. Australia, of course, has a different opinion on the matter.
So, in light of current trends and fears (which I don’t think will turn out as badly as many think), I’ve tinkered with my own price structure. I am now making detailed six-month personal economic and romantic forecasts available at a discount… all of the detail of a regular full-blown consultation, but focused on the area you need it most. Write me for more details.
And I’ll put my track record up against Donald Trump’s, or any economists, any day.
Humans are driven by biosocial factors to pair-bonding. Further, the efficiency of each bond (“compatibility”) is variable with each individual involved, in part due to personality-based initial conditions (“Sun Sign”). Virgo attempts to place this within a rational context and draw accurate conclusions.
Virgo can find true love within the confines of an imperfect world. Based on broad personality data gathered by Sun Sign. it is projected that the relative probability of success in a pair-bond can thus be projected on an a priori basis. Each potential partner is evaluated on a scale of 0 to 1 as a function of probable incidence of harmony (on a per incidence basis).
Taurus and Capricorn (0.8/1): Perform well under stress; high tensile shear resistance. Partner malleability is occasionally impaired when reconfiguration is required. Reconfiguration will likely be proposed based on their data set, not yours. With practice, excellent subject conformity to relationship guidelines.
Cancer and Scorpio (0.75/1): Both require some cleaning. Generally sound emotional depth, but both filter their data via emotional factors more than Virgo, and can be resistant to probing. Hardened shells may be difficult to open, but can reward the effort. Emotional slipperiness can occur. Wear rubber gloves.
Pisces (0.7): Highly sensitive to contamination, like yourself. Highly suggestible, unlike yourself. A lack of detail and definition can be frustrating to the researcher; however, emotional appeal can be highly catalytic. A great deal of net-casting is often needed to collect accurate emotional data.
Sagittarius and Virgo (0.65/1): Both signs demonstrate a sympathetic knowledge for further life data, but are likely to use entirely different experimental models than the researcher, making for potential translation problems. Theoretically shouldn’t work, but often does anyway. This requires further research.
Aries and Aquarius (0.6/1): Difficult, volatile substances which come with certain containment hazards. One is highly explosive, the other is often too neutral to form a reaction. However, once proper procedures are in place, this can (paradoxically) make long term bonding possible. Not what you expected… but possible.
Leo and Libra (0.5/1): Constantly changing emotional states lead to initial exhilaration, often followed by exhaustion on the researcher’s part. Lack of stability is made up for by shininess and willingness. Outcome of experiment difficult to predict, therefore the researcher may wish for more stable materials to work with.
Gemini (0.4/1): Comparable to positronium, an exotic matter-antimatter combination. Appealing as a potential source of tremendous energy, but likely to become explosively unstable under extensive probing. Wear safety goggles.
Nothing in life is perfect, not even Love. Nonetheless, this knowledge does not make the issue go away. It is recommended that Virgos collect further data and reach their own conclusions in this regard.
0:45 – Vedic astrology is “far more accurate.” I don’t want to start any brawls here between Western and Vedic Astrologers (they can do that fine on their own, thank you). But, speaking as someone who uses both Western and Vedic techniques, I understand where the occasional smugness of the Vedic crowd comes from. It’s downright spooky the stuff a decent Vedic astrologer can spot in a birth chart.
Having said that: I think the biggest (and most accurate) criticisms of Western Astrology that the jyotishis have is based on…
0:59 “I got out of astrology because I realized that what I was really doing was practicing psychology without a license.”
Bingo. One of my biggest problems with how astrology is practiced… particularly of the Western variety… is that it’s more psychology than astrology. My own educational background is in psychology, so I’m not knocking that. And of course, as an astrologer, I’m not knocking astrology. The problem with a lot of astrological consultations is that psychology is a vital part of a consultation, and too many are practicing it without a decent grasp of psychology and counseling techniques.
Of course, my own background may bias my opinion. And God knows there are plenty of valid criticisms of modern psychology. How many Universities have a Department of Psychology? And is there a consistently effective treatment for chronic depression out there yet? Say what you will about astrology, it stands up nicely to Freudian or Behavioral or Humanistic views of how the mind works… without nearly the same amount of research funding.
Put another way: if you stopped being an astrologer because you realized that you were “practicing psychology without a license,” the problem isn’t astrology… it’s that you aren’t a psychologist. Regardless of one’s level of astrological skill, mucking about with people’s thoughts and feelings and past and future demands a lot of knowledge, wisdom, and self-discipline. If you haven’t got that… please, find another job.
1:45 “This is a woman who probably plucks her eyebrows.” Well, um… duh. We’re told this woman is a business executive, so maintaining a crisp, clean appearance is going to be important. But the point here is that if I doubt she’d say “wow” to this observation unless (left to their own devices) her brows really were on the bushy side. And honestly… anyone who thinks this astrologer could “bond” with a woman over pointing out her bushy eyebrows obviously knows very little about women… let alone astrology or psychology.
Besides… whether they “bonded” or not… the astrologer was right.
3:05-9:28 – As a lawyer would say, res ipsa loquitur… “the thing speaks for itself.” A cumulative result of 77% effectiveness? Booyah!
Pick any currently available antidepressant… each one the result of years of scientific research and millions of dollars of laboratory time… and you tell me if it works 77% percent of the time. Go ahead, look it up. I dare you.
Now… where’s MY lab coat, tenure, and corner office, dammit?
And finally… thanks to both Michael Schermer for allowing this to surface in the first place… and to Jeffrey Armstrong, for kicking ass.
Blaze Of Love (Aries and Sagittarius): Action! Suspense! Romance! This one has it all. Aries can’t help but overact a little, and Sagittarius is all exhuberance and no technique, but with a little editing this one could have been perfect. Big thumbs up! FIVE STARS.
C’est Moi, Mon Amour (Leo): An intense and compelling tale with few flaws. The main flaw here is that the romantic leads keep acting like it’s just their movie. A bit sappy for some people’s tastes. FOUR STARS.
The Mirror Has Two Faces (Gemini and Libra): Playful and romantic. The fast-paced but occasionally erratic screenplay keeps things moving at a furious clip. The perfect way to while away an evening. Occasionally thin characterization leaves some doubt as to whether or not the energy can be maintained for the planned sequels. THREE AND A HALF STARS.
I Married A Martian (Aquarius): An obscure yet compelling opening leads the audience into a wonderland of surprises, romance, and culture clashes. The director’s detached approach can be frustrating for the summer-romance-movie crowd. The special effects are amazing, but at times you’ll crave the human element more. THREE AND A HALF STARS.
Pinchy And The Drain (Cancer): This fish-out-of-water comedy/romance/buddy movie works better than you might expect. The film bogs down at about the two-thirds point in maudlin sentimentality. Affectionate, wants to reach out to the audience, but at times you’ll wonder about character motivation, and not necessarily in a good way. THREE STARS.
The Sting III – Ouch! (Scorpio):A confused tale of a carefree organ-grinder’s monkey and the researcher who loves it, yet wants to dissect it. The two are strangely compelled to each other, and it all plays out in a painfully predictable ending. PETA protested on opening night, and you may too before it’s over. Warning: extreme gore. TWO AND A HALF STARS.
Warm Heart, Clean Fish (Virgo And Pisces): This tale of an obsessive-compulsive fishmonger and an alcoholic marine biologist starts out promising. Sometimes when a director juxtaposes two incompatible characters it’s a classic buddy movie; this one’s just all wet. Sweet, but never seems to really gel into a coherent storyline. TWO AND A HALF STARS.
Pamplona Or Bust (Taurus): Slow-paced and frustrating, yet packed with explosions and car chases. This film knows what it wants right from the opening credits and won’t let go, which is not necessarily a good thing. You’ll wonder what karma made you pick this instead of one of the comedies. A tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury; signifying nothing. TWO STARS.
Death On A Glacier (Capricorn): Challenging and surprisingly complex. Not for the faint of heart. This one is a tough climb right from the start. The director seems unsympathetic to his characters, yet there is a point to it all. You just may have a hard time sitting through 90 minutes of frozen wasteland and flat dialogue to get to it. ONE STAR.
Of course, all decent movies have a character overcoming some challenge or another. And this cineplex offers twelve screens full of challenges, each different. Besides, you love movies. Even the bad ones, sometimes…
Scorpio and Pisces: You pay attention in class and work well with me. Scorpio, you have a real tenacity that I appreciate, especially when it comes to me. Excellent note-taking. Watch the frustration with the tougher tests, though. And Pisces, you are just so sweet! Always a joy to have in class. Try to borrow some of Scorpio’s focus though, would you? Your attention is drifting too much. A+
Taurus and Virgo: You’re both solid, determined and reliable. You always get to class on time. Taurus, I really like your affection and sensuality, but your stubborn resistance to learning new material lost you a mark. Try harder. Virgo: nice job of showing all your work on the test papers. But could you please try to look like you’re enjoying being here more than you do? More enthusiasm, please. A
Capricorn: You’re a good solid student. My only problem is that this is Relationship class. Close your History text… I know there’s a test in an hour, but your eyes are supposed to be on me now. Me. Less seriousness, more involvement here please. B+
Leo: Honestly, I don’t understand why you’re here at all. You never focus, you’re always clowning around, and it’s very distracting. Good thing for you we find each other inexplicably adorable. Should I spell “inexplicable” for you? Your spelling is criminally sloppy. B
Gemini: Improvement needed. Your brightness always contributes to the class, but I have this strange insecure feeling you’re always looking out the window at the playground when my back is turned. And sit up straight! And turn off the IPod when I’m talking to you! C+
Sagittarius: You walk in here like you’re the teacher. Well… you aren’t. I am. Quit grinning at me like that! Are you taking this seriously? You’re always fun to have around at recess, though. It’s too bad that “recess” doesn’t count for any of your final mark. C-
Aquarius: Listen, Aquarius. This is an elective course. Quit acting like you’re here because of a court order! You look like you’re taking notes, but with that shiny new laptop of yours, you could just as easily be playing games on there. Have you heard a single thing I’ve said here? C-
Cancer: I’m too defensive? No, you’re too defensive! I feel like I’m talking to a brick wall with you sometimes. What do you mean, “I’m the brick wall?” That does it. Go to the Principal’s office. There’s only room enough here for my crabbiness. D
Aries: Aries? Aries? Has anyone here seen Aries today? Oh, there you are out on the playground. Aries, get in here!! Yes, it’s time for Relationship class. No, you’re watch isn’t right, mine is. It’s not time for PE. What? What did you just call me, you little…? D
Libra: You’re so sweet, and you normally excel at this class. Bringing me the apple was a nice touch. But when I correct you, that’s no excuse for a crying jag that disrupts the entire class. And no I’m not an “insensitive jerk” with you, Libra. Yes, I saw that note you passed Aquarius! You’re normally so good at this class, but I’m not seeing any proof of effort on your part at all. I require effort! F