Gadbury, Culpeper, Barbie

I’m still not done with John Gadbury.

See, he is not a very good source for impartial judgment and crisp technique, as the Nativities of Kings Louis XIV (I retyped and commented it here) and Charles I (I will do the same thing one day, God willing; but a facsimile edition can be bought here) make it extremely clear. These books are indirectly very good because they’re on people whose lives were very well known, but he makes no effort to be descriptive.

What he really wants is to praise them, regardless of how many techniques he bends.

And things don’t change much in his “Collectio Geniturarum”. It’s a glorious mess; every chart I have checked is wrong, either by little (Henry VI’s Ascendant is different) or by much (Nero’s month is wrong; but he followed Cardan here); he just praises everyone he likes, regardless of the actual testimonies the charts present.

But it’s so funny. He quotes as many philosophers he can think of; intermingles Latin for no reason; and is always dissing some other author, Lilly being his favorite target.

So far, I could not find a certain English astrologer, whom he never names, but who he keeps quoting just to prove him wrong — and to call him a quack, or a parasite, or other beautifully-chosen offenses — on the charts for English royalty. He wouldn’t miss the change of spelling out Lilly’s name; Partridge never wrote anything like that… It may be someone more obscure.

Here go a few examples of what he says about the unnamed author:

“One, pretending to astrology in England…but it is obvious to all that have eys, this confident pretender was mistaken…”

“Although this busy astrologist, mistaking a non-cause for a true cause”

“The same author that trifled with King Henry the 8th his geniture has been (to little purpose) busying himself with this”

Gadbury is a never-ending source of fun… although he would probably disagree with me.

Another author that is always a pleasure to read — and is much more astrologically substantial — is Nicholas Culpeper.

It’s unbelievable that he lived so little (he died at 37), had such a turbulent life, saw so many patients, and still managed to write so much.

Here, the fun part is quite conscious; Culpeper had a dry and sarcastic humour, and had solid astrological, medical, and herbal knowledge to wrap his wonderful sentences with.

However, I would like to talk about a more serious part of his last work, the “Last Legacy”, that he ordered his wife to publish after his death.

It was, according to Alice Culpeper herself, delivered to her upon his deathbed.

It includes a preface by her (stating that its intention was to preserve his work from “malicious persons who would abuse and slander” it), and another by him.

Culpeper’s “Worthy Readers” dedicatory text ends in a very touching paragraph:

“And now, reader, to speak more fully in the praise of this book, be confident thou hast here is what I have gained by my constant practice, and by which I have obtained a continual reputation in the world, not doubting but you will receive that satisfaction and advantage which I was ever assured of myself, and now, if it shall please Heaven to put a period to my life and studies, that I must bid all things under the Sun farewell; farewell my dear wife and child; farewell arts and sciences; farewell all worldy glories; Adieu readers”

Adieu, readers.

Now, to a very different kind of person.

Klaus Barbie was a monster, who infamously declared himself innocent of all his atrocities, and smiled during his trial.

He stood trial decades after the war as over, only in 1984 (he was employed first by the US government, then West Germany, before moving to Bolivia), and was not sentenced to death — France had by then abolished the death penalty.

No, I don’t want to talk about a Nazi being employed both by the USA and Germany, nor about the deplorable but understandable obsession war criminals (and other kinds of criminals) have with moving to South America.

But there’s a technically interesting testimony in Barbie’s chart, on the twelfth house.

Venus is the ruler of the first (himself), the eighth (death), and the twelfth (animals larger than goats) houses.

It’s right on the cusp, dominating it. As it may mean any of the houses, we can think of it as death dominating animals larger than goats.

By antiscion, the North Node is conjunct the twelfth cusp — the NN elevates.

Death dominating animals larger than goats, like big cattle, which are elevated, or hanged.

What kind of profession involves death of big animals and putting them in high (hooks)? Yes, butchers.

He came to be known as “The Butcher of Lyon”.

A friend of mine, Goritsa Svortsan, pointed that Lyon is probably signified by the sign Leo. Which makes sense (I was busy thinking about the ninth and whether Gemini or Cancer signified France), as Leo is on this despicable excuse of a human being’s tenth house of career, conjunct one of the Asellus Australis, the Southern Donkey.

It’s interesting that Barbie has weak Mars, peregrine Sun, and strong Venus, just as his boss. Goebbels also had strong Venus (although also strong Mars) and peregrine Sun.

Next time you meet a modern astrologer with all that talk about nice Venuses, and about how weak Mars means fear of violence and mild manners, remind them of it.

Also, it’s hard to actually find one of them with Sun in Aries, there aren’t many Arians among the “Aryans”.

I was searching really hard for something else, so I didn’t finish this newsletter with these people.

And I think I found it.

This guy’s tenth ruler — the career — is conjunct the firth ruler — himself.

So, jobs related to the body. Actors, warriors, heroes…

What kind of job, specifically? Well, these planets are dominated by Mars. Mars is in Virgo, the sign of Mercury, conjunct, by antiscion, Mercury in Aries, the sign of Mars, on the second house, of moveable possessions.

A Marsy kind of Mercury joined with a Mercury kind of Mars. Like a machine — made up of martial parts in a mercurial assemblage. In a mutable earth sign. Changeable hard parts, like articulations.

An armor? An iron armor that he wears, like an… iron man?

Yes, that’s Robert Downey Jr.

Have a nice week!