ASTROLOGY

 

Astrology is not Science

 

It is a pseudoscientific divinity practice that tries to discern information on human affairs by studying different placing of celestial planets to the sun’s position, calculated on a mythical system of the time of birth to denote the character, the future, and the fortune or upending misery of that particular human.  It projects a controlling effort by boxing people in their personality and life journey.  And in turn, we fall for it, hook, line and sinker. 

 In my corner of the world, the field of astrologers range from insignificant taro card readers with everything in between, to foreboding psychic mediums, both mumbling jumbo, choosing fancy vocabulary to form sentences that nobody understands, classifying themselves a higher order than ordinary humans. 

    

For years, a 5 star prominent hotel, in the city-center opposite the famous Patpong road that housed a go-go bars of old, where drinks drown the sorrows while enjoying xxx-rated fun, producing more dopamine under the same roof.  This road now occupies Japanese sushi delicacies for weary Japanese tourists, after hot temple tours.  The hotel for many years had the whole of their Mezzanine floor scattered with every kind of fortune teller available.  The choice was mesmerizing, leaving the desire to return to check other divinations.  Palm reading and star chart astrology dominated approximately 20 tables, the rest were tea leaves, crystal balls, numerology and many more.  The only divination left out were spirit mediums. The open Mezzanine floor would not be conducive to foreign hotel guests witnessing such disturbing activity.

At the beginning of each New Year, my countrymen rush to search for the latest, most accurate predictor of the day, to forecast the coming year.  Life’s journey has many transition points.  For instance, a new business best opening launch day is calculated via a star chart.  The wedding date is not chosen out of convenience but calculated by birth-date, birth-time of bride and groom, to bring wedded bliss. More modern couples go to some lengths for caesarian births stretched to make the best human within a slice of calibrated time determined by the guru of the day.  Notice there is never an astrological measured time of death.

 

When we fall for the fortune teller’s prophesy, most of us avail ourselves with the positive, easily forgetting the negative.   Or if the negative is dire; the solution is to make merit, lessening the blow.  Oh, how we fall into and pay high prices to meander through the obstacles of life, often of our own instigation.

Does the power of tomorrow scare us so much that we want to peak over the horizon to be ahead of the challenges.  Apparently it affects us all - from the supreme chief to the homeless vagabond.

 

Let me take you on my journey of being fortune-told  and the psychobabble I swallowed for years, until the last spiritual medium I went along with a group of believers as part of my evening’s entertainment

 

My first introduction was at 12 yrs old on a train journey with my mother from Tehran to the port of Bandar-e Shapur by the Caspian Sea, now re-named Port of Imam Khomeni.  We shared our coach with a middle aged ‘western’ Iranian lady wrapped in a distinctive blue-shawl interwoven with gold silk that sparkled in my eye when the train caught the sun as we passed.   All I remembered from that encounter was my dislike of her prediction after much fanfare of card shuffling, that I will marry young and be divorced soon after marriage. She must have seen the beginnings of my defiant character, used whatever psycho-analytical deduction she had, which made the right impact.

 

Throughout the years, whenever opportunity presented itself – I was there, too many to recount but always ready and willing to believe.   Even my western educated well-known engineer Uncle, known for his scientific mind; (his hobbies included yacht sailing and the non-scientific astrological chart configuration) was asked by my parents that he should find the best date for my wedding.  He came up with the date and time to marry plus the time of consummation.  On every year of our anniversaries, which amounted to almost 50 yrs, we would giggle at the perceived vision, looking at our watch, timing it to fit with the stars.

 

The last encounter was of a spirit medium, engineered by a desire to prove to myself that my countrymen are easily duped.  The society is controlled through celestial belief, mixed with religion, using unquestioning deity that includes all classes of the populace from top to bottom.

 

Bear with me as I relate every sensory perception stimulated, as if you were there with me, to feel the dominant power crossover, finding my trigger but failed.

 

Late into the night, after a party event, I was driven to this spiritual medium situated by the river, near a well-known riverside restaurant. Traversing by foot on narrow single file lanes, resembling slums, where houses were almost on top of each other, turning left and right, left again until lost, impeded by overgrown garbage ready for pickup, loitering dogs, and the odd drunken human.  We arrived at a  heavy glass door, left our shoes outside, and entered a huge colorful room of divine energy.  Dark red walls dictated the mood in this vast room, contrasted with the bright pink laminated vinyl flooring.  Yellow strips on the floor indicating where to sit to queue up.   The ceiling decorated with crisscrossing yellow marigolds resembling draping curtains.  Such color psychology used to alert the spirits hiding behind hundreds of deities, small and large Indian Gods,Thai Buddhas in all shapes and sizes. All revered and worshipped with candles and lighted joss sticks, incense clawing the room and now our clothes.

The spiritual medium dressed in white sitting on a raised podium was deeply in trance with a husband-and-wife team. Her ability to converse with Lakshami the Goddess of wealth, fortune and power, together with Goddess Kali, associated with time, change, creation, destruction and death in tongue, resembling neither Hindu or Urdu, although India does have over 15,800 dialects to detect, it was, nevertheless, an Oscar performance. 

I allowed myself to be mesmerized by the atmosphere, the striking colors,  the sound, the aroma of incense, the incantation, all very addictive and hypnotizing.   While waiting our turn watching and listening, I sense that the fortune teller enjoyed her own voice, the incantation grew louder as I moved to admire an aquarium with two fish swimming in a controlled space much like we were, absorbing the hold she had over everyone in the room.

The room was messily filled with golden trays offering garlands to gold buddha images, standing, lying, seated in all sizes, and varieties of Indian gods and goddesses seemingly staring down, watching.  Face masks of elephants, monkeys, garuda’s and scary unrecognizable dolls that supposedly would terrify anyone if the electricity cut out.

 

Finally, my turn came. I asked to sit opposite her in a chair, instead of the floor, as my weary body was not in its best condition. This gave me the same level – eye to eye.  Just that alone changed everything. (1)  

She went into Indian prayer mode, unrecognizable and mystical enough, no one would refute; came back, with a voice of professionalism, what would I like to know.(2)  

Upon receiving my question, she went back to prayers, this time, harder, longer and louder.  Her judgement of people was at its peak, even at this late into the night, commented that I am not afraid of anything or anyone. I agreed. She said with amazement, not even afraid of the mystical spirits nestling in all the figures.  She said she had never met anyone like me before. (3) 

My immediate unsaid thought; this is a job, your small world keeps you afloat higher from those around you, these dolls and figurines are your protection, so that’s why you have never met someone like me for I am normal, not easily persuaded. Only I allowed my eyes to reveal my thoughts. (4)   

And sensing she lost the control she thought she had of me, went into another spell of prayers, this time with a forebodng tone and wished me well, as she said I will die within the year from bad health (5).  

She thinks “game, set and match”.  Me thinks, “you used your last straw thinking you can finish me off for I was a lost cause, but scare my friends into submission”. (6)

 

We all die, sooner or later, or even today, for no psychobabble can predict what normally happens.  

 My reaction to the five minutes of interplay after a 90 minute wait.  

 

(1)    I won

(2)    She regained her positioning

(3)    Praise first before the impending fall

(4)    I’m in control through my eyes

(5)    Oscar performance much like in a movie

(6)    Ensuring the friends, this is your fate too, if you have little faith.

 

STEM CELLS. - 120 YEARS

 

    WRINKLES

 

Every wrinkle tells a story.  Each story seemingly multiplies more wrinkles.  The facial line acts as a weighing scale, measuring each moral compass, together with the gravitational pull that drops a mark of how we reconcile the hurt, escape the drama and accept the sentence.  That one wrinkle betrays a compelling slice of the person.

 

Beauty, skin deep, illuminates with piercing eyes, combined with beauty pageant smile beams great dental work and pretend emotion. Beauty, soul deep, demands resilience emerging from loss, breakdowns, disappointments, that radiates from the empathetic pupils. That smile comes from acceptance with no blame; risen from the depth of despair to one of hope.

 

Unfortunately, we are conditioned to despise wrinkles for it reminds us that the aging process has begun.   The skin dries, the elasticity drops and the wrinkle spread and increases through time and our pressured lifestyle, resulting in stress, confirms that the narrowing of life’s corridor is fast approaching.  Whoever set the standard that there are “no wrinkles in beauty” and whoever claims that  “cosmetic surgery tightness – the botox face with plumping lips” gets the penultimate prize, the claim of beauty is so skin deep as is the admirer of its emptiness. 

 

Seoul has become the plastic surgery capital of the world.   Imagine the disappointment of each generation of South Koreans born from parental engineered looks, yet produce the definitive Kim Jong Ung replica.  Shock horror, nothing like their pointed nose mommy or their high cheekbone daddy or even capturing the pristine Caucasian tone.  Travelers from Indonesia, Thailand, Singapore, the Philippines seem to head north, especially those investing in the celluloid world, even those moving towards their third decade, or those having to start anew from breakups and divorces.

 

Cosmetic surgery known as face-lift is now holding second to a higher discovery.  It is in preserving human life for 120 Birthdays in using the latest discovery of Stem Cells.

 

Let’s tell it like it is :

 

While some decapitate babies, die for strips of the promised land -  others pursue the extension of life to 120 years. Such Bi-Pola extremes should be the study of human psychology of greed and destruction that all religions have taught and miserably failed.

 

 

The discovery of Mesenchymal Stem Cells has changed everything.  An embryonic tissue that develops connective and skeletal tissues, to correct and re-define failed organs to top-functioning conditions.  Equipped for future malfunctioning, these stem cells can also be kept frozen until needed.  

 

If this is true, be it at my 40^th birthday party, the thought of 80 more years in front would drown me in despair.  How many more round the world trips, climb the highest, dive the deepest, and suddenly the vows “to love the one and only till death do us part…” ridiculous in its new reality.  This Mesenchymal Stem Cell would change all our primary values.

 

The old way of transplantation always had donor shortage problem. Stem cell’s bio-longevity is by constructing spare human organs from bone marrow for future transplantations. Magic happens by extracting hematopoietic stem cells from blood samples. At present Singapore’s laboratory together with Thailand’s talent are making history.  Stem cells’ wide range of possibilities can be frozen to be used when organs fail, for instance the blind patient can have their own corneal tissue through stem cells replaced without the fear of rejection.  As usual in this unequal world only those with unlimited funds could even ponder the idea.

 

The list is endless on stem cell life resurrection:  osteoarthritis, cancer using NK cells, rare blood type available through bone marrow, Parkinson’s disease, Alzheimer, diabetes, it goes on and on, too much to contemplate.

 

My  creative imagination runs wild fantasizing such impossibilities become possible:  

 

The first 40 yrs  as a woman – secure the position of producing the required children, the second 40 yrs as a man, feel the balls between your legs and the kill in your soul. The last 40 years, using duality of both in improving or engineering new ideas on achieving more life skills. 

 

Then the fantasy ends.

 

What species will we evolve to become?  I bow my head to those truly invested in making this happen but living longer changes values, ideologies, family values, marriage, population decrease…..the list is just an endless renewal of the same with confusion predominant.

 

To this conclusion I think I will volunteer as part of the human trials of space travels, Earth life will consist of hapless humans, might as well find the real Aliens.

 

Join me.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

ON CHILDREN

 

On Children

Kahlil Gibran

Your children are not your children.

They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself.

They come through you but not from you,

And though they are with you yet they belong not to you.

You may give them your love but not your thoughts,

For they have their own thoughts.

 

You may house their bodies but not their souls,

For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow,

which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.

You may strive to be like them, but seek not to make them like you.

For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday

You are the bows from which your children as living arrows are sent forth.

 

The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite,

and He bends you with His might

that His arrows may go swift and far.

 

Family dynamics in pursuing the wisdom of Gibran can be observed in all class divisions. All time scale, All nationalities.    So here goes my fairytale story.

 

Once a upon a time, in the city of the haves and the have-nots, the adornments to carry the man’s achievements, rested in the sparkles radiated from his wife.  As the goal post stretched further, the sparkles dimmed against his long-awaited membership into society’s pinnacle association, belonging to a prestigious Club, for his wife and growing family.  They have arrived.

 

From nappy onwards, the son treats the club like a second home, competed and befriended his generation’s playmates.  Joining-in as his age allowed, from swim team to tennis, gym room to the golf course, along the way, his membership was not his fight, as was his father’s, and his acceptance in society unquestioned.  

 

This was just one slice of the man that his father groomed.  The family business grows as the son takes over, his choice of life partner, if smart, was picked during his leisure time at the club uniting his empire with another.  The other slice was the morals he picked up along the way; his golf bets, hidden business deals, horse racing wins. Or the eye-candy, put there for his weakness to unveil.

 

Fast forward time and the next generation takes over.  The grandson now elbows his way into an international arena of global aspirations. With three linguistic skills, he realizes the torment of wanting his own choices, was far from the family’s successful business, yet constantly reminded of family loyalty and the continuation of grandfather’s empire. In the beginning, the fight wrestled softly, and as it grew into a ringside match; the make or break was how to win the monetary gain.

 

 

You may house their bodies but not their souls,

For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow,

which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams

 

 

This is where Gibran shows how the human species, in their collective persona from the days of Adam & Eve, desperately wanted the mini-me at all costs to continue their own dreams and success. Yet the mini-me, disdainful at the explanation of what was given up for his benefit, chose to enlighten them that his birth was not a heavenly bequeathment from God but of his parents’ rare moments of sexual activity hit the proverbial target; 40 million to one that produced him.

 

 

And though they are with you yet they belong not to you.

You may give them your love but not your thoughts, 

For they have their own thoughts 

 

 

This fairy story has many different endings to choose, from a collection of present and past history, picked at random, The Biden’s, the Kennedy’s, and the Trump's; or  the Pahlavi’s, the Windsor’s and they all had to contend to the Archer’s pull.

 

“They always say the first generation makes it,

  the second consolidates,

 and the third loses”

 

 

The remedy to this continuous circle?  Fairytale answers that cover overall parental inadequacies.

 

For your boy:

If he's naturally left-handed, keep him that way.  Let him cope with the difficulties of a left-handed life in a right-handed world. It's nature’s gift and his to correct – or not.    

 

For your girl:

Let her boisterousness command stage presence, instead of lady like manners required of little girls, be her mark of excellence.

 

For the confused: 

Allow the gender preference when it is evident and accepted by everyone.

 

As fairytale goes:  it ends with grandmothers, whose wisdom shines above all others, seen lunching and gossiping at a fancy restaurant, discussing their unsaid disapproval of today’s child rearing through IG ‘influencers’.  If only snippets of the grandmother’s conversation were overheard, humorous sketches could be sold to stand-up comedians thus generating funds for their continued luxurious luncheons forever.  A befitting end to the fairytale.

 

Generational gaps widen even more through advancement in IT technology and values created from it. Perhaps it is the hardest job, the worry ends only when life stops. We can only hope to guide, to make sure that the arrow goes to where the target was planned, but then parental guidance has its timeline and limitations.

 

As I sit in my imaginary rocking chair, contemplating mistakes made, the pride that overcomes it all, is LOVE, and with a tiny chuckle:

 

Been there, done that.

Salute with a cold Chardonnay 

Gibran would approve.

 

 

 

 

 

 

OLD MEN AND YOUNG MEN

                          

            It needs two things when conflict occurs:

 

Old men with power and young men with hatred, very tough to convince because the only thing that young men want is the power of old men, and the only thing that powers old men is the hatred of the youth of which time has passed them by. 

 

Ancient history evolution?  yet we cover it up by injecting ideology of democracy, everyone has a voice, equal rights and opportunities, la-di-la-de-dah…. We applaud ourselves from developing cave dwellings into sky-high buildings, from factory produced vehicles to rockets to the moon, doubling human life with medical knowledge, now attempting to reproduce human intelligence for AI to become a better humanoid devoid of emotions  to obviate human failings, while we gloat over wins, feed our souls for more.

 

How is this justified when we haven’t even mastered simple human failings and then rely on various religious beliefs, or in reality propaganda to teach us better ways, yet this learned ways erupts into wars, kills, maims and then fails miserably. Then some intellectuals rationalize our behavior by explaining with authority that it is nature’s way of solving overpopulation.  We even fight on these beliefs, century after century, learning nothing more than division, racism, and tribal segregation.

 

At the beginning of life we start with zero and then taught to achieve our dreams, only in truth we are born to struggle and pretend we are achieving greats.  Yet we produce shooters at malls, defend land by killing, stemming from religious teachings and beliefs to the point of eradicating enemies than sharing peacefully.

 

At this point I don’t expect convenient fairytale endings; but I do expect that in the quietness of the night, (between bombings, or hatred, or just family squabbles,) for a moment of clarity, a moment of soul searching, fix ourselves by ourselves, not on perceived God-like teachings. Instead of trying to reach Jupiter, learn the art of sharing the oil, land, and train ourselves to overcome these failings.

Questioning it all while flipping channels, watching the preferred leader making a speech at his esteemed alma mater in Cambridge Massachusetts, after the night before, in New York, alongside Taipei’s youngest mayor Chiang Wan-an accepting an award as Times’ 100 influential of 2023. While the unvoted ageing tycoon using his snatched position as leader, to attend the 78th UN General Assembly also in NY rubbed shoulders with global investment CEO of Blackrock to unveil that Thailand is now open to investments and visiting tourists.   As an influential businessman in his other life; rubbing shoulders with top global financiers would empower his already powerful job, unlike previous tanked and gunned military leadership.  But without guns, if push comes to shove, the preferred leader’s height of 5ft 7" is no match to the leader’s 6ft 3" effortlessly cradling the small man’s ego to the nursery.

 

The old vs the young.  

This has been the order of humanity.  Perhaps we should try to change. I did say try.

MUSICAL CHAIR PARODY

 

The Prize  -  The Crown 

 

“The Journey to Jerusalem” is a children’s ancient party game going as far back to the Crusades, circa 10^th – 12^th AD.  This game originated from several heavy losses incurred before they made it to the holy land.

 

The original Welsh version: boys sat on chairs, girls danced until music stops, girl left standing leaves the game; last girl wins, gets to kiss the boy. On the face of it, a fun game. Dig a few layers deeper holds a parody of what is rightfully your chair, and it becomes a story of pulling and snatching the ownership of the chair from ancient times, still relevant today.

Let’s continue to call it the Welsh version of the Big Chair, befitting to the Kymric title where the music is one long waiting period over 70 years.  She made her appointed heir danced around for 73 years and  was only just able to sit and rest his weary feet and ceremonially occupy the Chair in May 2023, and until his playlist loops “When will I see you again” comes to the ending of his favorite The Three Degrees, the beginning of  Operation Menai Bridge, his secret funeral code is called, comes into focus.  

 

Succession can be problematic. Since Henry VIII’s reign producing male heirs needed many marriages, or concubines to rectify miscarriages and infant mortality.   The Royal Constitutional Act of Settlement took two centuries later, from 1701 that cemented the foundation of succession with Parliament rule.

 

Royalty is a position preferably inherited by birth through blood line. Continuation of Royal blood was solved in some cases by incest among half-brothers and half- sisters practiced in preserving their undisputed right.

 

Modern 20^th century resulted in the entrance of commoners, for incest was unacceptable by way of morality or genetic defects. Mixing commoners in one case, from origins of slavery, has spilled over such pent-up inner discomfort pointedly suffocating empathy, love and understanding from both sides.

 

So what is a royal?  

 

In ancient Egypt, the king was the representative of the deity on earth. It is very important, therefore, to determine the nature of this association in order to sustain belief among commoners. 

 

Through the ages, the musical chair rule had to adjust with the evolution of time from deep faith to questioning its validity.   Sustaining its position required succession only through bloodline.  With the introduction of monogamy  the discrepancy of  the rightful heir is never questioned.  Prior to sophisticated modern society, children from mistresses and concubines were the only assurance of the continuation of the majestic blood-line that encouraged incest. From such unions, protection of  the institution becomes the backbone of the country to subvert any political party that wins an election, fixed or not.  

 

Distinct difference between ruler and commoner must be spotted easily.  An authoritative figure, the myth had to be Godlike.  Military competency, special achievements, educational prowess attained real or manufactured was used as propaganda. Credited with medals, war-like heros', paraded after winning battles, examples are of either Falklands or Afghanistan. Uniforms become distinctive and places them apart from the commoner.

 

Observed by a conniving pedophile blackmailer to secure his own wealth, by offering fantasy without consequences, the naive royal falls prey to human needs exposing their ungodlike longing for wild lust. A secret kept in preserving the untouchable monarchial status had a price.

 

In some monarchial ruling, ancient Roman laws from the 3rd Century are still practised in protecting any defamation against the Royal family.  Precise protocol  is used and becomes a strict rule, to be observed by commoners, when addressing Royals.  Specially constructed royal language, taught in schools, is enforced when addressing them. The royals reply normally.   Official news reports, whether verbal or in writing requires usage of the special words describing various actions. Terminology sets them apart;   houses are palaces, churches are abbeys, and the period between the reign of two monarchs is called an “interregnum”  much like overlapping US presidents exchanging power, the term “inauguration” is precise, weighted yet with dignified protocol.

 

While the music has not stopped  and the decisive heir yet to be appointed, in my fairytale myth, the dance goes on in a loop playlist from K-pop to Swift-pop. 

 

 

DIONYSUS

The Greek God of wine and revelry

The very essence of democracy 

is that a creative artist is given the liberty 

to project the picture of society in a manner he perceives.

One of the prime forms of exposing the ills of society is by 

portraying a satirical picture of the same.

Stand-up comedians perform that very purpose. 

In their portrayal they use satire and exggerate the ills 

to an extent that it becomes a ridicule.  

In the humorous portrayal of the ills of the society 

the stand-up comedians use satire.

Delhi High Court

Court jesters, in Elizabethian times, offer entertainment during gastronomic celebrations. Usually comically featured dwarf-like stature was enough to induce a chuckle, and when the deep voice belie their age, every gesture turns the chuckle into a belly laugh.  Going back further to find its beginnings, comedy originated in 5th century, BC in classical Athens.  It was quirky, sarcastic, and mocked both political and philosophical ideas.

As in any joke telling, now or then, whether elbowing at the local pub, one hand with a pint, the other gesticulating the pun, the mastery is in the timing. Many serious moments in the world, relief comes from mocking political injustice, and philosophical ideas, that in certain countries can land you in jail, yet in others, the freedom to belly laugh, helps any injustice dumped on you.

Much like  Vir Das's"Two India's" delivered to a full house at the Kennedy Centre in Washington DC in 2021, caused such division in his homeland prior to his return.  An angered lawyer wanted him to face legal action by requesting the Mumbai Police Commissioner to file an  FIR  (First Information Report).  His poetic delivery rested on realities of India's society, the results were venomous and inflammatory, yet highly amusing and ended on a note of never to forget the greatness of India.

Vir Das explains to India Times   "The satirical duality of two very separate India's that do different things.  Like any nation has a light and dark, good and evil within it..."

Before judging others, let us look at the gentle Siamese tradition. The genetic profile,  cleverly depicted, in the Hollywood film of Anna and the King of Siam, is of a subservient nature, high value in obedience, soft-spoken in gentle musical tones,  an inherent nature of pleasing others.  The language itself illustrates the positioning between individuals, observing the hierarchical status, age, even birth order. It is present, even in today's technological world of instant results, the soft nature in competition with a harsh outside world.

But just only look at the limited stand-up comedians available, the conclusion is of an oppressed country, unable to have the liberty to project their thoughts. Of course Note Udom, Thailand's celebrated stand-up comedian, pokes and stabs at soft imperfections and gets the audience laughing or giggling, much like a teenager sneaking out from under the closeted structure in which they reside. The limitation allows Note Udom a few jabs, but intellectual sarcasm, and the duality of humor would not serve well in the land of gentleness, for in the vocabulary of Monopoly board game, Note Udom would have got the "Go to Jail" card if he half tried.

However daunting a situation may be, we need comedy to help us go through such difficult times.  The releasing of dopamine brings happiness, enabling a good chuckle from a horrendous week of a deranged, 14 yr old schizophrenic shooter in a busy mall killing two and injuring many. The event de-stablized the tourist industry, that is barely recovering from the pandemic.  Realistic fears harbour those aware of the increasing generational divide. The divisional marker of those  born before and after the evolution of IT and AI widens as ever.

For those condo living city-dwellers, who need laughter to take away the heavy burdens, do go to Netflix or YouTube, and get your belly laughs from the likes of Fluffy, Trevor Noah, Sindhu Vee or Vir Das. A smile will gather on your cheeks, the mood will change to a happier place, without the need for Ambian, Tibetan sound healing, or even meditative chants.