The Great Man

The sense of inevitability about it has been one of the stranger facets of BoJo’s ascension to the role of prime minister of the United Kingdom. Second, perhaps, only to the absurdity.

A particularly perceptive portrait of him asks the pair of burning questions: Does he believe any of his stated claims, and do his followers believe him? Fintan O’Toole’s “The Ham of Fate” piece in The New York Review of Books summarizes: “In both cases, the answer is yes, but only in the highly qualified way that an actor inhabits his role and an audience knowingly accepts the pretense. Johnson’s appeal lies precisely in the creation of a comic persona that evades the distinction between reality and performance.”

O’Toole offers an ancient Greek framework for comprehending the BoJo phenomenon: that of an akratic figure. A person, that is, who knows the right thing to do, yet perversely does the opposite.

The whole Brexit project was sold to the voters, back in June 2016, under the slogan “Take Back Control.” Yet, inevitably, the process ever since has been anything but. And BoJo’s own suggestion, eagerly echoed from across The Pond, that Donald Trump — serial bungler, cheat and bankrupt — hammer a new deal between the UK and the European Union, is equally ludicrous.

OK, for those who might not be familiar yet with the abbreviation: It’s for Boris Johnson, born, like the Trumpster, in New York, New York. That’s right, and raised partly in Brussels, capital of the EU, and at an elite private school, Eton.

He’s perfect for the role. BoJo even was employed as correspondent posted to Brussels between 1989 and 1994.

That is quite fitting for one of his astrological makeup, born with Sun, Venus (retrograde), Mercury and Mars in the mutable, airy zoidion of Gemini, and in the ninth place besides. It is also apropos of someone who, even the night before his announcement for Brexit, was vacillating to the extent that he composed two columns for The Telegraph. The fellow is literary, yet has also — like fellow solar Gemini Trump — made a career of mendacity.

As one born in daytime — sun above horizon — his overarching quest is a solar one, an essentially heroic one for a place in the sun, a stage on which to unleash his mercurial nature.

BoJo, like Trump, was born at a rare and curious moment: Trump on the occasion of a lunar eclipse, symbolizing the lack of feeling for anything but [Luna in] Sagittarian bombast; BoJo on a Venus inferior conjunction (that is, Venus between Earth and Sun), representing, one might say, a life quest for values within the inherently vacillating realm of Gemini shape-shifting.

Mercury also in Gemini for BoJo reveals special potency upon closer examination: a consistently inconsistent character indicated by said Mercury position having been right on the place of the pre-natal solar eclipse. And then for an extra dose of mutability, there’s Mars early in that sign, adding an erratic level of activity, especially linked, as it is, with the symbols / energies of the the most contradictory impulses of the1960s: the Saturn opposition to Uranus and Pluto.

It was early summer of 1964 when BoJo came on the scene: seven months after the assassination of U.S. President Kennedy, during the early stages of the British musical “invasion” of the United States, early in the drawn-out American invasion of Vietnam, in the midst of the absurd “space race.” A strange time, indeed.

That’s what he was born into, the atmosphere he was bred to inhabit.

Plus . . . his birth pattern includes an exact Jupiter – Neptune opposition, representing the grand fantasyland dimension to the time he was born into, and now. Now the configuration is a square, the last-quarter mark of the cycle between them, but small matter. The combination was crucially present — call it a recurrence — through the Jupiter – Neptune opposition in play at the time of the Brexit vote, only four days after his fifty-second birthday, in 2016. (Not merely Jupiter – Neptune, but with Saturn (symbolizing structure and control) added into the bargain for greater impact.)

The facet of a drama on a grand scale has been further highlighted by one of BoJo’s own literary contributions: The Churchill Factor. As Britain has sunk further and further into its post-Empire mire in recent decades — royal weddings and babies to the contrary — the sense of national crisis has deepened and broadened. Forgetting Winston Churchill’s many political and military disasters, and his megalomaniac tendencies, the worship of late has been intense, taking the form of not only books but also films — “Darkest Hour,” “ Into the Storm,” etc..

The human species has a peculiar hunger for a “Great Man,” be he Fuhrer, Papa Stalin, Chairman Mao, Pol Pot or whomever. Lunatic sociopaths, those. Churchill, fortunately, was not presented with the opportunity for such absolute power. Even so, Churchill still proceeded through life fueled with the conviction that he was destined for greatness: the conviction born of someone born under a Mars – Jupiter conjunction (as was his French contemporary Charles DeGaulle): bold and brash, with uncanny luck thrown in.

Such is not the stuff of Boris Johnson. And besides, “Boris Johnson,” really? C’mon. Russian and Swedish names? His real first name is Alexander, and the guy is known to family and close associates as Al.

Still, Churchill — always keen for war, much like some characters on this side of The Pond — conjured up some mighty big messes in his time, and hung around long enough for the power to fall to him by default. After Neville Chamberlain — he of “peace in our time” infamy for his absurd pact with Hitler — there was no one else left but him. Rather like BoJo, after Cameron and the sorrier spectacle of Teresa May.

So, off the UK goes, into BoJo’s waiting arms. The recent solar eclipse (2 July 2019) fell into his natal tenth place, close to the upper meridian, signaling a path opening to his becoming the Big Kahuna.

But it’s all a joke, and everyone knows it. There is no clueful leadership among the latest crop that can address the burgeoning crises facing industrial civilization. And the crisis in the West is at the stage of the cycle wherein the caesars arise as democracy — at least on the national level — crumbles through its own corruption. “Restoration” is not forthcoming.

The current late-in-multiple-cycles situation — with respect to the three cycles involving Jupiter, Saturn and Pluto (the latter two already in Capricorn, sign of business and government, and structures in general, with Jupiter to follow come December) — is a reliable indicator of deepening disintegration, and discreditation. The Great Man is no fit for the greater feminizing forces of this era.

So usher him in: The Great BoJo.

When? Well, late August 2019 — when the New Moon, joined by Mercury, Venus and Mars, aligns with natal Uranus, symbol of the collective yearning for disruption — seems just about right. The date of his arrival at #10 matters little: Late August is when the fun begins.

On with the show.

Hawaii 911

Hilo, Hawaii – February 2016 – photo by Peter Doughty

The confluence of phenomena was merely a brief blip on the radar of weather-related news — except, I suspect, in Hawaii. Last week, tropical storm Barbara suddenly intensified simultaneously with — and directly north of — the total solar eclipse on 2 July. A satellite caught the two events on camera. (Hawaii News Now posted the story.) And although the storm subsequently weakened well before nearing the islands, peak winds reached 155 miles per hour.
It was a close call.
That island chain was the recipient of a rare tropical cyclone (named Lane) just last year: late August to be more exact.
That storm did some significant damage, mostly from torrential rains: Rainfall totals ranked among the heaviest ever recorded within a territory of the USA. And that surely taxed the local resources. (Bear in mind that that remote island chain is utterly dependent for its collective lifestyle on products and fuel from afar.)
The storm and the volcanic eruption on the Big Island (which started in May 2018), which wiped out stretches of roads and many homes, have been a severe one-two punch — though little or nothing reflecting that is apt to make the news. Maybe a bit sneaks between the lines of the local news, when the subject is the public works budget or tourism (the economic mainstay).

Weird meteorology keeps happening, however. Just a couple of days before the eclipse, on 30 June, Honolulu recorded over four inches of rain: the most on any day outside the usual October-to-April wet season. Could it be related somehow to the array of perturbations associated with an impending solar eclipse? Any experienced or aspiring astro-meteorologist would do well to add this to the ol’ notebook.
After all, it’s been not quite two years since Hurricane Harvey suddenly intensified and hammered on Houston. And that was associated with the Great American Eclipse that crossed the country from coast to coast.
Let’s have a look at the astrological factors.
Calculating the chart for the solar eclipse on 2 July 2019, 9:16:20 a.m. AHST, at Honolulu — where the eclipse was actually not visible — shows the ascendant (the eastern end of the horizon) at 24 degrees of the sign Leo, and the midheaven (upper end of the meridian) at 24 degrees of Taurus. Find the midpoint of those two at nine degrees of Cancer: bingo: two degrees from the zodiacal location of the eclipse. (No planets are particularly close to ascendant, descendant, midheaven or lower meridian.) Thus, the longitude of Honolulu is marked for probably more than one out-of-the-ordinary event. Keep that in mind over the months to come.
The Cancer solar ingress (Northern Hemisphere summer solstice) chart at Honolulu (below) has a couple of potent features: Sun exactly on the ascendant, and Neptune less than one degree from the midheaven. Sun is primarily, of course, an indicator of dry and hot conditions. Not quite so much, though, at the gate of the watery sign Cancer. Neptune, however, is a reliable indicator of any of several wet phenomena: from torrents of rain with resultant flooding to fog. (Neptune / Poseidon is god of the oceans.)

Luna on 30 June crossing the place of Venus in the ingress chart does indicate release of moisture, although by itself it would not signify such a notable event.

As for horrendous Harvey, well, he hit Houston four days after the eclipse, which was at its maximum as Sun and Moon were crossing the midheaven at Houston. (The path of totality passed several hundred miles to the north.) Harvey gathered strength from the very warm waters of the Gulf of Mexico, while Luna (representing tides of air and water) approached and crossed the place of Jupiter (think “bigger” and “more”: always) as both were in opposition phase with Uranus (think “disruption” and “unprecedented”). In fact, all three were aligned with the horizon at the time of Harvey’s landfall: picture these forces sweeping unhindered across the surface of Earth and ocean.

In addition, Pluto (representing devastation and the process of beginning rebuilding on a new base) was close to the midheaven of the landfall chart.
Less than a month later, Hurricane Maria leveled Puerto Rico, killing (one way or another) at least a thousand people and sending thousands more to the mainland. That landfall moment, at sunrise (20 September 2017, 6:15 a.m. AST, Yabucoa, PR) was marked astrologically by Sun, Mercury, Venus and Mars in the sign of Virgo, just hours after a new moon in Virgo.
A very similar cluster of planets in Virgo recurs in late August and early September 2019, and it includes the new moon in Virgo on 30 August: the peak of the hurricane season.
It’s time once again for people in historic storm zones to get better prepared — even consider (again) whether to pack up and move. At some point, the option of recovery and rebuilding runs out. It’s part of the cyclical process known as catabolic collapse.*