To me, it’s just Mr. Mars, appearing to move in a direction that he normally doesn’t move, compared to the canopy of stars. And that “close to earth” thing? That’s just way cool. Wished I’d bookmarked that one graphic showing how and why the planet is so close. Celestial mechanics and all.
Can you really blame the planet?
Help me.
“It is the stars,/The stars above us, govern our conditions;”
Kent in Shakespeare’s King Lear Act IV, scene iii, around line 30
Right. The stars don’t dictate diddley-squat. The planets do incline, lend credence to, suggest, motivate, and signify events.
Like the moon and the tides, the ebb and flow, natural rhythms and cycles that occur in nature. Dictate? Hardly.
“The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars,/But in ourselves, that we are underlings”
Cassius in Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar Act, scene ii, around line 200
Which is more like it.
And maybe not reason clearly, either. Blame Mars? Or for that matter, Mercury, Mars, Jupiter, and the Sun? No, it’s all about how a person reactes to a set of stimulae. That’s all. Just language, metaphor and symbols.
No wonder us astrologers get a bad rap.
As one Aquarius lass used to ask me, rhetorical, “Where are we going and why am I in this handbasket?”
Thursday Three
(N.B. Feast Day of St. Rumbald of Kent.) The special at the BBQ place that I’m so fond of, not because the BBQ place is excellent, although I’ve been sassed by more than one waitress, on numerous occasions, what I like best is Two Meat Tuesday. And proximity.
Perfect plate, perfect portions, and on occasion, some of the best pork ribs, ever.
So it’s time for a simple list, as the weekend approaches, the Thursday Three (meat plate):
1. Favorite luncheon spot?
Magnolia, South Congress. No, make that El Sol y La Luna. Better yet, Jo’s BBQ tofu. Wait, there’s always Green Mesquite, aforementioned two-meat Tuesday? Or even Chuy’s? Bouldlin Creek Coffee has a good menu, too, and they’re cheap.
2. Favorite “hole in the wall”?
Taco Rapido – if it’s still there – on the east side. Better yet, there’s a place that now goes by the name of “Rosita’s,” and I’ve frequented that place for years. Always good food, although the great Austin eastward migration will catch up with that place, sooner or later, i.e., they’ll start speaking some English.
3. Best cheap deal for lunch?
Pure heaven: a hotlink, with a liberal dose of cheap, yellow mustard, on a stale bun, accompanied by a 44 oz. huge Styrofoam carbonated beverage, preferably diet coke, and a lottery ticket. On a summer’s afternoon in Austin? Sweating like a proverbial “stuck pig”? It’s just a little slice of heaven. Stand outside that convenience store, watch the cars hurry and scurry by, stand there, dripping with Barton Creek water, no shoes, no shirt, no problem.