Age of -- what, do you mean, 'Aquarius'?!
I got into a weird discussion the other day with a New Ager. You know, someone who believes in the power of crystals (especially that big 10-karat rock her boyfriend just gave her), astrology (as done by someone who doesn't know either astrology or astronomy worth a damn), Tarot cards (her Tarot packs are all beautifully arranged on the shelves of a glass-fronted cabinet that has been locked ever since she got the Tarot packs and put them in there), numerology "Lessee -- (counts on fingers) one, two three, duh, pork chops this Wednesday, 225 and must lose weight, six, seven, don't eight!, ten, fifteen, nine . . ." (I'm sure you can fill in the blanks which I didn't here). She's into aromatherapy, tai chi (she loves to watch others do it, but doesn't do it herself), loves animals and adores PETA but can't be bothered to clean up after a pet or spend money on a pet's health needs at the vet's, etc. etc. etc.
So she was trying to convert me to her belief in the Age of Aquarius, "When peace shall reign everywhere, there will be no wars, no one will commit crimes or be cruel to others," you know the drill. "And it will begin when that awful Age of Pisces is over with." So I asked her, all the while trying to hide those little horns peeking from under my halo, "What planet rules Aquarius?" "Um, Mars, maybe?" "Do you know what Mars rules?" "Um, Scorpio?' {sigh} . . . "As a matter of fact, Uranus rules Aquarius," I tell her. "Oh, you mean the new planet out between Venus and Neptune?" "No, it's between Jupiter and Neptune. And it rules (are you ready for this?) revolutions, civil war, science, scientific breakthroughs, electronics, tyrants, weird sex, you know, things like that . . ."
I seem to have this effect on certain people, causing them to break out in terrible rashes of prurient hissy-fits, scramble the fratissnazz and drop the eggs off high buildings. She's one of them . . .
So she was trying to convert me to her belief in the Age of Aquarius, "When peace shall reign everywhere, there will be no wars, no one will commit crimes or be cruel to others," you know the drill. "And it will begin when that awful Age of Pisces is over with." So I asked her, all the while trying to hide those little horns peeking from under my halo, "What planet rules Aquarius?" "Um, Mars, maybe?" "Do you know what Mars rules?" "Um, Scorpio?' {sigh} . . . "As a matter of fact, Uranus rules Aquarius," I tell her. "Oh, you mean the new planet out between Venus and Neptune?" "No, it's between Jupiter and Neptune. And it rules (are you ready for this?) revolutions, civil war, science, scientific breakthroughs, electronics, tyrants, weird sex, you know, things like that . . ."
I seem to have this effect on certain people, causing them to break out in terrible rashes of prurient hissy-fits, scramble the fratissnazz and drop the eggs off high buildings. She's one of them . . .