WOODRUFF

• The 12th House: Astrology’s House of the Rising Sun

Warriors and Goddesses: What the World Soul Is Dreaming Right Now

Robert Anderson — Sun, 07 Jun 2026 13:00:21 GMT

You're reading WOODRUFF. I cover the convergence of pop culture, psychology, and astrology—now joined by archetypal astrologer Robert Anderson as a contributing writer.

ASTROLOGY TEACHES US to think symbolically. Whenever a particular image bubbles to the surface of the zeitgeist, it always does so for a reason; it points to something beyond its face value appearance. It alerts us to a particular condition of the world soul. When we learn to interpret symbols, we become fluent in the language of archetypes.

Let me illustrate this with a few recent examples:

Last week, the Cerne Abbas Giant featured prominently in UK news coverage due to restoration efforts by the National Trust. This chalk giant—which was sculpted into the hillside above the village of Cerne Abbas over 1000 years ago—is a totemic figure in the British cultural landscape.

Stretching over 180 feet, he is depicted with an erect penis and brandishing a club, a potent symbol of libidinal energy, sexual prowess, and pagan fierceness. The giant’s fresh burst of publicity coincided with a square between Mars and Pluto, the former having recently ingressed into the earth sign Taurus.

The Mars-Pluto energy is primal, aggressive, and darkly erotic. Its emergence in the zeitgeist is often accompanied by phallic imagery and symbolism. Who could forget when, during an exact Mars-Pluto opposition in 2021, Jeff Bezos announced to the world that he was heading into space aboard a penis-shaped rocket?

What are you trying to compensate for, Jeffrey?

Dick jokes aside, it’s no accident that the Cerne Abbas Giant has become the focus of renewed attention at this moment. Through the conjuring of such a symbol in global media, the archetypal psyche is cluing us into the deeper currents that are at work in the collective unconscious. The larger pattern of life is being disclosed to us in symbolic form.

A snapshot of what's making news right now provides ample evidence that the Mars-Pluto dynamic is powerfully present at this time:

In France, football celebrations turned violent, resulting in hundreds of injuries and one death; Mars-Pluto transits tend to accentuate the shadow of the Mars archetype—exposing the darker side of the archetypal athlete-warrior.
In the UK, feelings of intense anger and revulsion have been triggered by the release of police body-cam footage that showed a murder victim being handcuffed in his dying moments. The far right have, in turn, exploited this incident to inflame racial tensions and incite rioting.
Russia is hammering Ukraine in one of the most brutal assaults since the war began (during a Mars-Pluto conjunction, incidentally).
The animal kingdom is not exempt from this influence either: The Guardian reports that a new front has opened in the battle between swimming snakes and Balearic lizards, a cause of great concern to wildlife experts. Mars-Pluto transits have a way of showcasing Mother Nature at her gnarliest; bloody claws and fangs galore!

Beyond the dramatic headlines, we have likely felt these energies at work in more subtle ways in our lives. Mars-Pluto transits correlate with a greater incidence of cuts, bruises, and minor injuries. We may also find ourselves needing to manage intense aggression and erotic impulses, either in ourselves or those around us.

He-Man

On a cultural level, this transit coincides with the release of Masters of the Universe. I haven’t seen the film, but the poster conveys the Mars-Pluto energy in an unmistakable way.

Clearly designed to project an impression of red-blooded hyper-masculinity, this image features He-Man gripping a sword too large to fit inside the frame, looking poised to vigorously master... the universe.

This is the Cerne Abbas Giant reimagined for modern audiences: a primal warrior rising to the occasion, ready to vanquish his enemies. And there’s another echo—Nicholas Galitzine, the film’s lead actor, has an exact Mars-Pluto trine in his chart that is being activated by transiting Uranus.

Do you sense the archetypal resonance between these symbolically charged images?

That they are both prominent in the zeitgeist is no coincidence; it’s a synchronicity that reveals an archetypal truth. The primal-warrior archetype of Mars-Pluto is running riot in the collective unconscious, compelling us to act in ways that are more instinctive and assertive than usual.

The Goddess Victoria

Scanning the news, we find other images impacting our awareness. For instance, the image of a rare golden ring that was recently acquired by the South West Heritage Trust following its discovery by an amateur metal detectorist. The ring dates to ancient Rome and contains a gemstone depicting Victoria, the Roman goddess of victory, driving a two-horse chariot.

The news of this incredible find broke on June 2, just as Venus began a conjunction with Jupiter that will extend into the second half of June. Victoria is, in many ways, the feminine counterpart to Jupiter, as they are both associated with victory and good fortune.

Victoria is the perfect symbol of a Venus-Jupiter conjunction, as she combines these Jupiterian attributes with the feminine nature of Venus. Her present-day reemergence reflects the convergence of the Venus and Jupiter archetypes into a singular deity that will preside over mid-June.

This discovery is Victoria’s way of announcing her return to the world; a wink from the cosmos telling us that the Venus-Jupiter conjunction is now in effect.

Enjoy this transit while it unfolds and pay attention to all the ways that love and beauty are celebrated over the coming weeks. This confluence has the potential to enhance your social life and presents opportunities for cultural, taste-related, and artistic indulgences!

Whenever a striking image appears in your life or succeeds in capturing public attention, ask yourself: what does this image evoke, and why has it appeared at this moment?

The spirit of the times is always converging around symbols in much the same way that our nightly dreams do: the Cerne Abbas Giant, He-Man, the goddess Victoria. They appear and disappear in accordance with the fluctuating moods of the world soul, which are in turn reflected by the movements of the planets in the night sky.

Cheers,

Robert Anderson is the creator of Archetypal Outlook, where he explores news and culture through the lens of archetypal astrology. Drawing on the work of Richard Tarnas, his writing blends in-depth research with up-to-the-minute insights into current affairs.

Image credits: Cerne Abas Giant via Wiki Commons, Blue Origin rocket via Spacecraft Wiki, Masters of the Universe poster via Wikipedia, Ilminster ring via CBS News.

• The 12th House: Astrology’s House of the Rising Sun

Graham Platner: When Mars Finds Your Scorpio Cluster

Frederick Woodruff — Sat, 06 Jun 2026 22:36:57 GMT

You’re reading WOODRUFF. I cover the convergence of pop culture, psychology, and astrology. Join my entourage of subscribers. My bio is here. Curious about a consultation? Head here.

I LIKE GRAHAM PLATNER. I group him together with Zohran Mamdani, James Talarico, Jasmine Crockett, and Chicago’s Governor J.B. Pritzker. These individuals are the antidote to the political maelstrom the US finds itself in now. All of them are branded as communists and advocates of young children being forced into sex change operations. So you know there’s substance to their platforms.

Whenever despair sets in, I think of people like these and remember that the political world, for all its fuckery, still produces the occasional genuine article. Though I can never quite shake Lao Tzu’s observation that the only people fit to hold power are the ones who never wanted it. 😬

What’s more alarming than Trump’s second reign in the White House are the individuals who reelected him. Apparently they are still out there, milling about a la George Romero’s classic horror film Dawn of the Dead. When I see Trump’s approval rating at 34%, I’m like: why is there even 34%? Who are these people? Why isn’t it like 8%—or zero? Or as Elton John once sang: Less than zero.

The ‘another John Fetterman’ worry foisted on Platner is precisely the kind of reflexive, bumper-sticker thinking that passes for political analysis these days. Platner is a T-shirt-wearing, gruff dude, so, of course, he’ll have a brain aneurysm and turn into a quisling.

The US population has never been stupider. This fact must be acknowledged if we are to come to terms with the whys and the wherefores of Trump and the MAGA-ites. You can’t blame Obama’s Blackness. You can’t blame the Democratic Party (although I do). Furthermore, you can’t blame planetary transits. We must acknowledge our collective ignorance. As they say in 12-Step: “You can’t solve a problem you won’t admit you have.”

Anyway, check out Platner’s horoscope. There is no birth time, so ignore the angles. Though the Moon is positioned just so to guarantee its Scorpio placement.

Before I sign off, I want to introduce you to Robert Anderson, a new contributor to WOODRUFF. Robert is the creator of Archetypal Outlook, a Substack that explores news and culture through the lens of archetypal astrology. Drawing on the work of Richard Tarnas, Robert’s writing blends in-depth research with up-to-the-minute insights into current affairs. His first post appears tomorrow.

Love,

Opening photograph of Platner via Wikipedia Commons. Public Domain.

• Nonsense & Malaise: Astrological Insights for Maneuvering the Hive

• The 12th House: Astrology’s House of the Rising Sun

Under the Influence for Saturday, May 30, 2026

Frederick Woodruff — Sat, 30 May 2026 22:08:25 GMT

You’re reading WOODRUFF. I cover the convergence of pop culture, psychology, and astrology. Join my entourage of subscribers. My bio is here. Curious about a consultation? Head here.

NOW AND UPCOMING on WOODRUFF.

I’m fascinated by the former Attorney General in Texas, Ken Paxton, who Trump endorsed (more like assigned) to go up against Dem darling James Talarico in November. Paxton is a litmus test for Trump. By endorsing someone so transparently corrupt, Trump is determining how far he can push the incredulity envelope. He’s also gauging the durability of the nastiest, most fuckery-ridden MAGA-ites in the country. Next week for paid subscribers, I’m posting my video delineation of Paxton’s chart and a small bit of Talarico’s. Theirs is a full Moon synastry and will be the most riveting race of the midterms, with Talarico’s solar Taurian tenacity spotlighting Paxton’s creepy-murky sex offender plea deal (Moon-Neptune conjunct in Scorpio) that he brokered in 2025. With Paxton’s lunar Neptune confluence in the crosshairs, be prepared for nonstop luridity.

WATCHING

AMC+ had this great deal running last month for 30 bucks for a year and without commercials. The latter is unheard of nowadays, where the greed from the big streamers is off the chain. Surfing around in the AMC app, I discovered The Newsreader, a three-season drama that has me barreling through a couple of episodes a night. The show is set in 1986 and tracks a successful female newscaster (Mindhunter’s Anna Torv) and a young male wannabe reporter (Sam Reid). She’s volatile and tightly wound, and he’s gay and closeted. Love blooms. The Guardian said of the show, “If this powerful Aussie drama were a US show, it’d be a smash hit.” This is true.

I’m fascinated by Reid, the Aquarian actor. Not just because he is gorgeous, but because he does this thing that many masterful Aquarian actors (Christian Bale and Evan Peters come to mind) can do, namely, convey complex, convoluted emotions within what seems to be a sterile, stereotypical character. It’s the kind of transformation that’s thrilling to watch.

LISTENING

The new Boards of Canada LP, Inferno. This is the first new project from the Scottish electronic duo since 2013. The ominous undertone to several tracks makes for a perfect soundtrack for the rest of 2026. (And that can still be a beautiful thing). Their landmark album, Music Has the Right to Children (1998) is one of the greatest album titles in history.

Tomorrow’s MOON ZOOM. Are you attending?

Space is limited. And there are still a few spots available.

• Paid subscribers to WOODRUFF! Join me on Sunday, May 31 @ 1 PM Pacific for another lunar hangout.

• Follow this link over to Luma to register for free:

• https://luma.com/uwjtxi4m

Your Zoom invite will be sent over to you before the event starts.

See you tomorrow!

Love,

Opening photograph by Alen MacWeeney, c. 1963

• Astrologer and Tarot Maven TRAVIS BLACK on the WOODRUFF Cast.

• Nonsense & Malaise: Astrological Insights for Maneuvering the Hive

• The 12th House: Astrology’s House of the Rising Sun

ASK THE ASTROLOGER with Dabney Lawless and Frederick Woodruff

Frederick Woodruff — Wed, 27 May 2026 18:28:26 GMT

WE’RE TRYING SOMETHING different between our casts today.

If the response is what we're hoping for, astrologer Dabney Lawless and I will launch a recurring crossover feature—connecting both of our shows in a way we think you'll find intriguing and fun.

For each episode, we’ll take on two or three of your questions and see where the inquiry takes us. With Dabney’s background in evolutionary astrology and my background in—something as yet uncataloged—we should be able to answer questions in ways that cover all the bases.

Let us know what you think. And post your questions below for our next episode.

Love,

Opening graphic by FW, ©2026 by Nightcharm, Inc.

• Astrologer and Tarot Maven TRAVIS BLACK on the WOODRUFF Cast.

• Nonsense & Malaise: Astrological Insights for Maneuvering the Hive

• The 12th House: Astrology’s House of the Rising Sun

NEW May 2026 Full Moon Zoom v2.0 on WOODRUFF

Frederick Woodruff — Sun, 24 May 2026 16:54:40 GMT

You’re reading WOODRUFF. I cover the convergence of pop culture, psychology, and astrology. Join my entourage of subscribers—you’ve been missed. My bio is here.

HEY CHILDREN OF THE CORN, on Sunday, May 31, at 1PM Pacific, we’re holding another Full Moon Zoom hangout for paid subscribers to WOODRUFF.

Spontaneity is one of the joys of existence, especially if you prepare for it in advance.

To participate, the only requirement is that you’re a paid subscriber to WOODRUFF.

Space is limited.

• Paid subscribers to WOODRUFF! Join me on Saturday, May 31, @ 1 PM Pacific for another lunar hangout.

• Follow this link over to Luma to register for free:

• https://luma.com/0vhe931r

Your Zoom invite will be emailed to you before the event starts.

Love,

Opening collage by FW, Moon image via NASA, public domain. ©2026 by Nightcharm, Inc.

• Astrologer and Tarot Maven TRAVIS BLACK on the WOODRUFF Cast.

• Nonsense & Malaise: Astrological Insights for Maneuvering the Hive

• The 12th House: Astrology’s House of the Rising Sun

Astrologer Wade Caves Reads the 2026 Midterms

Frederick Woodruff — Fri, 22 May 2026 22:19:48 GMT

Under the Influence for Sunday, May 16, 2026

Frederick Woodruff — Sun, 17 May 2026 18:56:11 GMT

You’re reading WOODRUFF. I cover the convergence of pop culture, psychology, and astrology. Join my entourage of subscribers. My bio is here. Curious about a consultation? Head here.

HERE’S THE ALL AND EVERYTHING for the week ahead.

Celebrity culture death.

Pluto’s transit in Aquarius—the sign of the ‘people’—is wreaking havoc with Leo, the sign of the celebrity and ‘star.’ Pluto does away with waste and rot. And as the planet is opposing Leo, we’re witnessing old notions of individual worship (Leo) challenged within the court of public opinion (Aquarius). In other words, people are burned out on this sort of hero lauding. Especially as the gap between the 1% and all the rest of us becomes more screeching.

This occurred to me last night while watching the new Netflix documentary on comedian Martin Short. It’s titled Marty, Life is Short. And by the end of the feature, you’ll have wished the documentary was too.

Due to Short’s large coterie of A-list actors and directors, throughout the doc we are made privy to party after party of rooms crammed with competing narcissists and their squirming spawn. Having lived in Los Angeles for five years and worked in the heart of the pop music business, I learned early that many of the creative folks we worship are insufferable when encountered in person.

Celebrity culture is incestuous, as everyone in the star community depends on everyone else in the clan to practice the dictates of a publicist. That means when you listen to one celebrity talk to the camera about another celebrity, you will only hear a slew of superlatives. The discussed person is always described as talented, joyful, generous, kind, brilliant, hilarious, loyal, loving, and tolerant. And they are someone who is an example of ‘living their dream.’ 😩

After an hour and a half of this, your pancreas is aching, and you’re longing for what I call ‘criminal culture’ to strike a balance. This split between artifice and shadow is why Americans (especially) are obsessed with underworld crime and serial killers, two genres that make way for and honor humanity’s persistent dark side. We need it to counter the hyperglycemia.

But for every death, Pluto offers regeneration and rebirth, and as concerns the Aquarius transits, it’s now the ‘everyday’ commoners (Aquarius) that are replacing Hollywood royalty (Leo). I’m talking, unfortunately, about the burgeoning influencer market that has exploded since Pluto’s ingress into Aquarius. Better get your TikTok shop set up today if you hope to survive the AI apocalypse.

Wade Caves and the US midterms.

Next week I’m posting my lengthy interview with horary maven Wade Caves, with a good portion of our discussion devoted to the astrology of the upcoming midterm elections. Wade’s research into this critical moment for the country is astounding. And I’m not blowing smoke. Paid subscribers can join us for this comprehensive overview later this week.

Reading this weekend:

Jessica Murray’s latest post, Beware the Dead Zone over on MotherSky.com. A MAGA-sphere forensic that pulls no punches.

“The transpersonal approach to larger-than-life historical figures doesn’t consider their personal pathologies merely on their own terms. We see them as features that make the person typecast for the role they’ve been destined to play. If you’re an American meaning seeker trying to work out how current political abominations relate to you, this perspective can be useful.

As the USA-led world order breaks down (US Pluto Return), the least savory features of the American psyche are rising to the surface like noxious gases rising from a carcass.”

Fine-tune your best performance.

Saturday’s lunation took place in Taurus. Old-fashioned astrology considers this new Moon particularly fecund (I can’t stand the onomatopoeia of that word, but it’s such an apt description). And we’re still within the three-day window that frames a new Moon.

What makes any new Moon lunation so potent is the tripartite ‘dark of the Moon’ that precedes the conjunction. This is considered the best span of time to work with whatever ceremonies, spells, or sigils you employ to shift you from a burnout into ignition. There’s one gal I follow on TikTok who, every Dark of the Moon, is performing rituals for Hekate. A real hoot.

The Sabian symbol for this Moon, which occurred at 26 degrees of Taurus, is: A Spanish gallant serenades his beloved. Dane Rudhyar writes: “This is role-playing in its most enjoyable form.” I detailed this playacting theme recently here:

In Hamlet, Shakespeare wrote for his protagonist, “Assume a virtue, if you have it not.” We need to take on, adopt—despite feeling ill-equipped—the courage that eludes us. This means acting our way forward for the sake of momentum. Fake it until we make it.

See you all soon in the new WOODRUFF cast later this week.

Love,

• Astrologer and Tarot Maven TRAVIS BLACK on the WOODRUFF Cast.

• Nonsense & Malaise: Astrological Insights for Maneuvering the Hive

• The 12th House: Astrology’s House of the Rising Sun

James Charles: The Astrology of Class Cruelty PART TWO

Frederick Woodruff — Sat, 16 May 2026 00:28:02 GMT

You’re reading WOODRUFF. I cover the convergence of pop culture, psychology, and astrology. Join my entourage of subscribers. My bio is here. Curious about a consultation? Head here.

PART ONE OF THIS POST appears here.

In today’s video I take a look at YouTube influencer Adam Charles’s birth chart and study the transits for the time of his videoed eruption (which he has since deleted and apologized for—a common tactic of online fame whores who panic when their follower count decreases). His ‘moment’ represents the distorted dimensions of the sign Gemini (Trump, anyone?)—fallout from the just-new Uranus into Gemini transit.

James Charles: The Astrology of Class Cruelty PART ONE

Frederick Woodruff — Wed, 13 May 2026 20:29:01 GMT

You’re reading WOODRUFF. I cover the convergence of pop culture, psychology, and astrology. Join my entourage of subscribers. My bio is here. Curious about a consultation? Head here.

TRUMP v2.0 IS AN EXTENDED display of unregulated grift, unedited vulgarity, and unchecked cruelty. Yesterday, Trump declared, “Not even a little bit,” when a reporter asked if Americans’ financial situations affected his negotiations with Iran.

No.

And then he pitched his new ballroom scheme.

Later that day he called one female reporter “dumb” and, moments later, another female journalist “stupid”—as if working through a list.

This kind of crude disrespect is highly cherished by his MAGA-ite base. Trump’s unedited, context-free way of ‘telling it like it is’ confirms that his devotees have little capacity to parse complex situations. The insult comics’ bark guarantees that no heavy lifting or research is required.

Whew—a relief!

I’ve written often about the psychology of MAGA’s sado-masochistic underpinnings. The cruelty it demonstrates to those less fortunate—to people in need of food or medical care or political asylum. More freakish, though, is the zeal that the cruelty inspires. A fitting response for an illiterate culture whose parents were raised on The Jerry Springer Show. As George Carlin once said, “Think of how stupid the average person is, and realize half of them are stupider than that.”

Of course, for every ‘S’ there must be an ‘M.’ And this is the more fascinating dimension of the MAGA-ite fetish. It’s why Trump can confess that he doesn’t consider the economic plight of Americans. It’s not uncommon in cults for the leader’s bad behavior to be endured as proof of loyalty. The harder the MAGA-ite is fucked, the more they double down and take it.

What I’ve noticed more this year (than in Trump’s previous term) is how Trump’s presence imparts permission for new degrees of puerile behavior. Both in and out of the political arena. This hybrid form of lowbrowness is laced with nasty levels of cruelty—a viciousness that comes straight from the id.

And it’s everywhere. At sporting events, on airplanes, at the market, in restaurants, and in outrageous displays of road rage. Lately this fury is stepping over previously illegal boundaries—pushing into blatantly racist, sexist, and homophobic eruptions. Usually this kind of behavior is kept out of the halls of government, but now, with a UFC cage match scheduled for next month at the White House, we’ve reached a new nadir of incredulity.

We’re abiding in a sociocultural dead end. A condition that the poet Robert Bly detailed in his 1996 book The Sibling Society. In his book, Bly argued that America has regressed into a culture of perpetual adolescence—a society without adults, or more precisely, without a willingness to become adults. The vertical relationship between generations (elders passing down wisdom, initiating the young into maturity) has collapsed. And it’s been replaced by a horizontal culture of peers all arrested at the same developmental stage.

As is normal for my discursive thought processes, all of the above flicked into neon for me the other day while watching a video of social media influencer James Charles.

You don’t know who Charles is? Well, you’re lucky (and probably over 30 years old). He’s a YouTube fashion influencer with a rags-to-riches story (he’s currently worth about 12 million dollars according to Wikipedia.) His audience is heavily Gen Z, with the bulk of his followers being aged 18 to 24. He’s also been described as a ‘walking Amber Alert’ due to his online entanglements with minors.

The other day Charles posted a video on TikTok where he viciously derided a woman who had, allegedly, lost her job at Spirit Airlines. Apparently the woman had posted a request to Charles in his DMs. Her request was to spread the word about a GoFundMe she’d created to help her during her sudden predicament.

Ordinarily I’d skip shit like this on TikTok, but the degree of hatred and feral viciousness that Charles displayed in the video caught my attention. Elements of his outburst suggest a pathological level of mental illness.

While watching Charles, I realized I was witnessing a Hunger Games-level of cruelty from the millionaire-billionaire class—a group of individuals who, despite appearances, are mentally compromised due to their extreme levels of wealth. Someone like Elon Musk comes immediately to mind—a good example of what happens when puerility and privilege intermix. Or Mark Zuckerberg, who—with the fantasies of an arrested-development teen—continues to build underground forts all over the world to assuage his acute paranoia.

I want to look at Charles’s birth chart and study the transits for the time of his videoed eruption (which he has since deleted and apologized for—a common tactic of online fame whores who panic when their follower count decreases). His ‘moment’ represents the distorted dimensions of the sign Gemini (Trump, anyone?)—fallout from the just-new Uranus into Gemini transit.

I’ve posted that video close read here for my paid subscribers.

Love,

• Astrologer and Tarot Maven TRAVIS BLACK on the WOODRUFF Cast.

• Nonsense & Malaise: Astrological Insights for Maneuvering the Hive

• The 12th House: Astrology’s House of the Rising Sun

Trump: Fade to Black v2.0

Frederick Woodruff — Sun, 10 May 2026 18:37:20 GMT

Happy Birthday, Luigi Mangione

Frederick Woodruff — Tue, 05 May 2026 16:35:03 GMT

To celebrate Luigi’s birthday this week, I’m making my previously published post for paid supporters available to everyone on WOODRUFF.

Part One of this feature, Luigi Mangione: Person of the Year, was published here.

You’re reading WOODRUFF. I cover the convergence of pop culture, psychology, and astrology. Join my entourage of subscribers. My bio is here. Curious about a consultation? Head here.

IN MID-DECEMBER of 2024, the media was presented with a cinematic perp walk that featured murder suspect Luigi Mangione shuffling along in shackles and wearing a screeching orange jumpsuit (that could have been viewed from the moon). Mangione—whose expression was eerily beatific—was flanked by a pack of comically over-armed cops and menacing FBI agents. Eric Adams scooted along with the throng—unable to sport a firearm—the New York mayor is a convicted felon. (That irony was sweet).

Two key takeaways bloomed in my brain while studying the spectacle. The first was straightforward: perp walks are prejudicial and undermine due process. This made Mangione’s public display doubly outrageous. Later I realized how my judgment was a prescient nod to what would be the Trump administration’s contempt for legal processes throughout the new year. But also, I could feel, in my bones, how—step-by-step—Mangione’s destiny was permanently melding to the United States’. America loves and mythologizes outlaws—especially beautiful ones.

Let’s look at the synastry chart for Mangione and the United States. I want to highlight the most salient cross-connections to suss out what the upcoming era-defining Saturn-Neptune in Aries conjunction might portend for the country. Too, I’m keen to explore the ways Manigione is a bookend of sorts to New York mayor-elect Zohran Mamdani. Both individuals bear the hallmarks of the upcoming conjunction in Aries that perfects in late February of 2026.

Presently, the United States is stuck in a tedious interregnum, where the fallout of the MAGA movement is slowly beginning to offgas, making way for a brighter visionary template for the country. A course correction that will hopefully return individuals to their authority—and Americans to their sanity. The trappings of ‘hive mind’ cults, typified by the long Neptune in Pisces transit (that commenced 15 years ago), are making way for iconic figures like Mamdani and, yes, Mangione.

Note: There is no birth time on record for Mangione.

It’s interesting when putting a human being’s chart up against a mundane horoscope (a chart for a country, nation, etc.) because the rules that govern reading the mundane chart often conflate with the psychological markers of the individual. The symbols can morph, toggling back and forth, and become single signifiers.

Mangione’s Virgo Moon lands very near (and possibly exactly conjunct, depending on his actual time of birth) the US’s Neptune in Virgo. As Neptune is conjunct the US’s midheaven, we have an individual whose instinctive lunar nature reflects and highlights (midheaven) the sketchy-grifty (Neptune) corporatized health industry (Virgo) in the US. Via transference, people sympathize with the dilemma.

Viewed another way, Mangione stimulates the US’s dreamfield and its enchantment with Neptunian glamour, celebrities, and the Hollywoodization of crime. I recall the edge-of-your-seat excitement that surrounded the week-long period that preceded his arrest. Something menacing but hopeful charged the air, an antidote to the soul-wilting realization that Trump would return to the Oval Office in January.

When you compare the US’s healthcare system to the rest of the world’s, it is mind-bending that nothing is ever forthcoming from our political leaders to correct the fraud and corporate greed. And why would they? Every member of Congress has Grade A healthcare for life. The only evolving factors for the plebs are rising premiums, outrageous salaries of HMO CEOs, and the use of computers to find loopholes to deny claims.

Moon in Virgo individuals have an innate gift for ferreting out (and exposing) the details involved with any sort of complex undertaking. Especially if it relates to the human body. To comprehend their feelings, they must first circuit their emotional response through the filter of their intellect. In doing so, they become obsessively granular with their notations and research. This eventually provides them with a rational plan to navigate life’s more irrational pitfalls.

Consider the words from the title of the nonfiction exposé Mangione allegedly referenced to engrave on the spent bullet casings found on the sidewalk at the UnitedHealthcare CEO murder scene—the book Delay, Deny, Defend: Why Insurance Companies Don’t Pay Claims and What You Can Do About It. Right there: a very Virgonian succinctness, goaded by the phrase “…and what you can do about it.” Mangione’s natal Sun-Mars conjunction made certain the words would provoke ire (and be reported again and again within the media.) After the shooting, the book climbed to the top of Amazon’s nonfiction best-seller list.

In mundane astrology, the Moon represents the citizenry, the people—and here, Mangione’s natal Moon becomes a stand-in or totem for the American public and their grievances. Add to this the Pluto-Aquarius-like revelation that erupted right after the death of CEO Brian Thompson, where it was reported that UnitedHealthcare used a robot to systemically deny coverage to various policyholders. Not long after this news broke, UHC’s stocks began to tank. Not because shareholders developed a conscience, but because its nuked algorithm immediately affected UHC’s bottom lines.

Virgo and 6th house themes ping-pong around the above synastry chart. Consider that Mangione’s Mars in an applying (gaining in strength) conjunction to the Sun in Taurus lands in the sixth house of the United States horoscope. In mundane astrology this zone signifies public health, civil service, labor unions, and social welfare. Naturally, where the Sun and Mars land in a chart, there is heightened illumination (Sun) and agitation (Mars) that activates and draws attention to the particulars of the house.

Taurus, a fixed Earth sign, channels a quality of concentrated libido that I compare to the powers of primordial nature. If Aries represents the thrashing movements of the spermatozoa, Taurus is the quiet and humming egg that awaits activation. The Taurus survival drive is a ‘be-all, end-all’ unto itself. Energy that’s best described as condensed passion. But once released—to achieve tangible results—it is unstoppable. It is not hindered by Air sign equivocations or Water sign reflectivity. Once Taurus transforms a curiosity into an idée fixe, the sign’s velocity is astounding. Consider Hitler, Lenin, Marx, and Harry (atom bomb) Truman, each with a potent Taurus Sun.

Natal planets that link up with the Sun provide insights into the rhythm of one’s self-unfoldment. Because Mars conjuncts Mangione’s Sun, the martian drive (which is given ballast in Taurus) attaches itself to the Sun and the variety of ways his individuality is displayed. Being naturally peace-loving, a Taurus Sun feels conflicted when saddled with the potential for violence—and veiled aggression can rumble through the unconscious, unchecked. Until...

This is the classic volcanic temperament that best expresses itself when bravery is called for. Not violence per se, but an outpouring that feels worthy and gallant (we are talking about a Venus-affiliated sign after all). Will and instinct combine, and, well, jump out of the person’s path when a pointed purpose propels their momentum.

The shadow expression of the Mars-Sun conjunction is a mythic quandary—a ‘struggle for existence’ puzzle. This theme is repeated with Mangione’s Mercury-Saturn conjunction in Aries, where constant considerations (Mercury) about asserting authority (Saturn) and courage (Aries) are part and parcel of the superego or inner critic.

It’s the Saturn in Aries people who will assume counter-phobic or oppositional defiant gestures to compensate for their compromised survival drive, even if there is nothing in their environment that threatens them. The aforementioned planetary positions point to someone trained to confront the world and play out the drama of ‘what they are made of.’ As pressures build, this stance can, over time, mutate into a statement like, “Look what you made me do!”

As if she intuited the magnetic allure of Mangione’s natal Pluto—in opposition to the US’s Mars in Gemini—Mangione became a prop for fame whore Pam Bondi’s feckless Justice Department. Come spring, Bondi’s performative bravado hit a fever pitch when she directed federal prosecutors to seek the death penalty for Mangione. This was done under the false pretext of terrorism charges. (In September, a New York judge dismissed—like so many judges do when it comes to Bondi bungles—the terrorism allegation).

Each planet, within the astrological pantheon, is overpowered, schooled, and remade whenever there is a cross-connect, by transit or synastry, with the transpersonal planets: Uranus, Neptune, and Pluto. Consider Trump, whose natal Sun-Uranus conjunction is entangled with the US’s Mars in Gemini. His presence stimulates divisiveness, where brothers and sisters (Gemini) turn against each other (Mars) in belligerent and irrational ways. Uranus can goad the epidemic of gonzo conspiracy theories. Or subversive propaganda that appears to be futuristic and prescient—with civil disobedience as its calling card.

The above synastry chart represents a masterclass makeover for the US’s natal Uranus. Not only does Mangione’s Pluto oppose the planet, but his natal Uranus forms a trine to the US’s Uranus. All sociopolitical revolutions that ‘stick’ revolve around Uranus-Pluto interchanges. History proves this repeatedly. The Pluto contact with Uranus incinerates antiquated notions of activism. But the trine amplifies the best of Gemini-Aquarius ingenuity.

Mangione reminds us of how history is made despite our best efforts to control the narrative. Radical change is usually discursive and discontinuous. The Uranus-Uranus trine communicates rebellion and remaking driven by necessity. It’s similar to those moments in our lives where a ‘click’ happens in the brain and one recognizes that they’ve passed—in a heartbeat—the point of no return. It’s inspirational, yes. But it can also be destructive.

Mangione’s Pluto contact with the US’s Uranus is made relatable by Pluto’s conjunction with the US’s Sagittarius ascendant. This calls to mind the planet’s more creative association with healers, therapists, and reformers. Shortly after his arrest, social media began referring to Mangione as ‘The Adjuster.’ The serpent in the below Tarot iteration is doubly fitting.

Within synastry, when Pluto aspects the ascendant, all the hidden forces associated with the planet become ‘dawn-lit.’ The US’s ascendant imparts a free-roaming, ‘don’t fence me in’ image of the country. It also evokes renegade cowboys who made up the laws as they went. Put those qualities together, and you’ve got a compelling representation of Mangione’s impact on the cultural dialogue.

Pluto-charged individuals often work through the subterranean. And coming at the ascendant from the US’s twelfth house, this places Mangione’s Pluto in the liminal—a place that provokes and harbors our dreams. And as Michel Gauquelin’s research confirmed, this pre-ascendant segment is emphatic; a planet here is often more powerful than if it resided in the first house.

As there’s no middle ground with Pluto (reactions to the planet are always hard and sharp), it’s fascinating to note that within our roiling partisan enmity, Mangione is revered—within both groups. To me, he’s the first person, during the past decade, to emerge as an actual folk hero in the US. I’ve never seen Pluto unite anything (or anyone) in such a spectacular fashion. Again, this speaks to the US’s Sagittarius ascendant and its Wild West outlaw vibes. And also my earlier sentiment about Pluto moving through Aquarius: “Black is the new black.”

I mentioned Mamdani at the start, not because his approach to reform mirrors Mangione’s. But both men have planted a seed of sorts amidst what is a fraught moment in US history. Mamdani (*), a Libra, represents the metered, diplomatic execution of aims. His revolution is driven by keen movement-building skills. This placed him in the center of one of the most influential cities on the globe. Whereas Mangione channels the bull’s aforementioned ‘purposeful’ (Sun) explosiveness (Mars). His alleged crime became a symbol of how violence becomes unavoidable when hopelessness becomes a default condition. All of his organizational skills took place within himself, a very Saturn/Aries expression. He’s a frontrunner for the upcoming Saturn in Aries ingress. Consider it: radical self-authority gains traction when our impulses are disciplined.

For the first time in eight years, the globe is readying for a profound elemental shift. The planets that symbolize sociopolitical movements will soon reside in new elements. Uranus moves into an Air sign. Neptune into a Fire sign. And Pluto will remain in Aquarius, also an Air sign. Saturn, the accountability force, will move into a Fire sign as well. That’s a lot of Air and Fire. A lot of heat. A lot of impatience—a literal firestorm.

Air and Fire are untethered and indeterminate. Air reminds us of our universality. And Fire—well, Fire as spirit keeps everything vital and in motion. Air fuels Fire. An urgency to ‘shove off’ will dominate the country’s mindset in the new year. Everyone is ready to exit the muzzy Neptune-Pisces birth canal.

We may not consciously consider Luigi Mangione a hero deserving of veneration. But there will be no avoiding his appearance within 2026 and 2027’s legal dramaturgy. His evolving story will remind each of us that someone ‘was as mad as hell and wasn’t going to take it anymore.’ Reframed, you can translate that into the mainstays of the era-defining Saturn-Neptune conjunction in Aries. Which transmits a message like, “A new type of courage (Aries) is about to be envisioned (Neptune)—and I want to be the one to embody it (Saturn).”

Love,

(*) Astrologer Jessica Murray and I study Mamdani’s horoscope in a WOODRUFF cast from last year.

Luigi Mangione’s legal defense continues to accept donations. Presently, 1.3 million dollars has been raised. Contribute here.

Opening photo, photographer unknown. The two Tarot cards were posted on Tumblr without attribution.

• Astrologer and Tarot Maven TRAVIS BLACK on the WOODRUFF Cast.

• Saturn: The Work and The Love

• Nonsense & Malaise: Astrological Insights for Maneuvering the Hive

• The 12th House: Astrology’s House of the Rising Sun

Under the Influence for Thursday, April 30, 2026

Frederick Woodruff — Thu, 30 Apr 2026 19:38:49 GMT

A quintessential Aries, Wernher von Braun in his NASA office with models of all the rockets he designed behind him (1965). Photo by NASA.

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DAZED. CONFUSED. We’re still recovering from the aftermath of the interminable Saturn-Neptune transit in Pisces—a three-year transit that warped our shared sense of what was factual, objective, and trustworthy. And we seem to still be lodged in the ambiguity. Dazed. Confused.

But the sky has moved on. Mercury, Mars, Saturn, and Neptune all reside in Aries now. But are we taking advantage of the elemental thrust that characterizes the sign? Aries has been the high note for months now. I mean, spring is the season of Aries. This is the ram’s kairos (an ancient Greek term for the opportune moment). So what’s the problem? The only public figure I see doing effective Aries activism is Libra mayor Zohran Mamdani.

Pop astrology does damage to Aries, with all the clichés of ‘starting afresh,’ ‘jumping ahead,’ and ‘a warrior’s courage.’ A fledgling Aries reads that and wonders why they are failing. Without context, the phrases remain trite sound bites. So it’s smart to address the puzzle, or tension, that haunts Aries.

Actually, all the fire signs (Aries, Leo, and Sagittarius) are prone to this dilemma—it’s a key theme to their particular mythology. But with Aries, who must step out of the swirling Pisces miasma—the preceding sign—it can be a fretful passage.

As I’ve written before, referencing Gurdjieff, nothing moves forward without friction. And for Aries, this is embodied in the push and pull of the past as it attempts to hijack the future. And Aries is lodged within that existential fulcrum.

The Leo ascendant in my chart has proven this fiery stance throughout my life. Loathsome of school, I autodidacted myself through whatever fascination caught my attention. Freedom was more essential than the conditioning of school. And freedom—especially from authority figures—is another decisive condition for all the fire signs.

Over and over, my love of independence overrode my fear and doubt. And so I stuck myself into situations where I was forced to learn on my feet. To adopt the mantle of whatever I hoped to master. And, yeah, sometimes I was acting a part.

True, I had a solid introduction to astrology, but I began interpreting horoscopes way before a novice would feel comfortable with the exchange. Same with the Tarot. I did chart after chart, or spread after spread, and reaped the benefits of frequency. My god, when I worked for the old telephone psychic lines in the 90s, I was doing 40 to 50 readings a day. (Youth!)

This is a way to think about Aries, too. To emerge from the Piscean pool—alone—with one’s freedom intact. The friction, the tussle with the past, generates the heat that Aries is famous for. Forging something never before seen isn’t easy.

Somatically, Aries is the most phallic sign in the wheel. The ram is the Zodiac’s erotic flame—the force behind arousal, tumescence, and the body’s way of saying ‘yes’ to life. And that goes for all anatomies. Penises and clitorises. Before the consummation in Taurus, there’s the foreplay and rush of blood in Aries.

See if you can apply this metaphor to the area of your life that feels fallow or hung-up. Remember, without skin in the game, there’s no friction. No progress. Oh, and also—no one is coming to save you.

So, what are you doing with your ‘boner’? Is there going to be some ass-kicking in May? Who or what can you align with to apply pressure and pushback? What is today’s full Moon disclosing for you? Tell all in the comments below. Spill the tea.

WATCHING

As happens to me often, I’ll get an intuitive urge to revisit a show that I enjoyed in the past, and then I’ll mainline it within the span of two or three days. I did this with Ricky Gervais’ After Life on Netflix last week.

Talk about friction (which is why I probably was compelled to rewatch the 3-season series): Gervais’s ability to push the heaviness of grief against the levity of comedy is genius. Paraphrasing the late, great Selma Diamond: “You laugh, you cry, it becomes part of your life.”

READING

In the same way that jazz became America’s greatest art form, country music, as channeled by Tammy Wynette, became something similar. She’s a national treasure.

Although she had more vocal range than Billie Holiday, there is something similar about the instantaneous recognition of Wynette’s vocals. When I hear her voice, I’m not hearing a ‘country’ singer. She transcends rubrics. Wynette conveyed oceans of emotion while, typically, standing stock-still on stage. And when the catch in her voice emerged in a song, you really were caught. Immense vulnerability and steely strength—somehow both were present for Wynette. See, another example of friction making art.

A Taurus with a high-octane libido (and scores of marriages and divorces behind her), when Wynette sang about the pleasure of sexual surrender or the pain of heartache—you didn’t doubt the emotion.

Her 1973 single Womanhood is scandalous with how it toggles between blossoming sensuality and religious proscription. Hey Lord, she sings, “I’m a Christian, but I’m a woman too.” More friction.

All the tension that dominated her life makes Steacy Easton’s book, Why Tammy Wynette Matters, a revelation of a read. Easton’s approach is more Camille Paglia than Greil Marcus. Easton touches on each facet of Wynette’s rags-to-riches ascent—the class struggles, romantic obsessions (and infidelities), and drug addiction—while maintaining her Queen of Country title. A true Taurian force of nature.

ON SUBSTACK

I continue to enjoy astrologer ’s Weekend Entertainment Guide. With more and more astro schlock infiltrating Substack’s platform, Eva sifts the gold from the crap and highlights substantial reads that are worth your time and attention. Definitely check her newsletter out.

This Saturday it’s Moon Zoom for paid subscribers!

Space is limited. And there are still a few spots available.

• Paid subscribers to WOODRUFF! Join me on Saturday, May 2, @ 1 PM Pacific for another lunar hangout.

• Follow this link over to Luma to register for free:

• https://luma.com/uwjtxi4m

Your Zoom invite will be sent over to you before the event starts.

See you next month!

Love,

• Astrologer and Tarot Maven TRAVIS BLACK on the WOODRUFF Cast.

• Nonsense & Malaise: Astrological Insights for Maneuvering the Hive

• The 12th House: Astrology’s House of the Rising Sun

Guess Who's Coming to Dinner?

Frederick Woodruff — Sun, 26 Apr 2026 16:00:34 GMT

You’re reading WOODRUFF. I cover the convergence of pop culture, psychology, and astrology. Join my entourage of subscribers. My bio is here. Curious about a consultation? Head here.

MODERN MEDIA OPERATES as a syringe that constantly injects us into the minds of maniacs. Be they gunmen or presidents. It never stops. At coffee this morning, each table I passed as I walked over to where I wanted to sit was deep in conversations about—of course—Trump. Before I could get my AirPods in place, I was subjected to three different degrees of excitement from different clusters of people.

Everyone was talking about how the still-offgassing White House Correspondents’s dinner mayhem was a staged happening. That had me laughing, not from incredulity but because, well, the notion isn’t far-fetched at all. With global discourse fixated on the Iran war, the minimizing of attention on Trump was too much for his hybrid form of narcissism to endure. There needed to be some kind of an event that would pull him back into the spotlight and allow him to elaborate on the importance of building his beloved ballroom. The astrology confirms it.

Apparently J. D. Bowman, er, J.D. Hamel, er, J.D. Vance was the first cabinet member to be yanked off stage by the Secret Service after shots (or clanking pans) rang out. Grampaw Don was in the midst of being entertained by a magician, apparently, and (allegedly) didn’t want to be interrupted. A charming image. “Fight! Fight! Fight!”

And not to be ignored in the narcissism department, TPUSA’s Serena Joy/Tammy Faye Baker clone, Erika Kirk, had an ego-fueled breakdown backstage and was quickly whisked from the building.

Confusion abounded for the Gang That Couldn’t Shoot Straight administration.

One thing that did clarify last night was the transit I’d been harping on since the start of the year, namely, Uranus’ final square to Trump’s Mars-ascendant conjunction. That angle perfected—almost to the fucking minute—just as the bangs went off last night. Interestingly enough, this same transit was in play during Trump’s Butler, PA, assassination attempt.

Although props to press secretary Karoline Leavitt! From a post I caught over on Twitter, Leavitt outflanked every soothsayer in town with her fiery prediction that arrived five hours before the dinner commenced.

Let’s look at the transits for last night. Thanks to Malia, in DC, we’ve got the exact time for the ruckus, 8:36PM.

Look at the fucking Moon (the public) and midheaven (the pinnacle of exposure)—just where Trump wants them, exactly conjunct his ascendant. The entire nation, naturally, would be fixated on the event, but more importantly, they are fixating on him (the ascendant—the most forward-facing part of a person’s chart).

And, again, Uranus (surprises, explosions, and no, shit magicians) exactly squaring Trump’s Mars-ascendant nexus—off by only four minutes. Surreal. It’s the easiest aspect in astrology to unpack, put Mars (violence) and Uranus (surprises) together, and—baby go boom.

There’s more to consider, but I wanted to get this post up while all the madness continues to unravel. And remember, there are still four more days to see if Nick Dagan Best’s prediction—that Trump would be ‘out of the picture’ by May—comes to pass.

Love,

PS: For more mishegas, my co-host and I will be revisiting this topic and much more in a new episode of our Fame Whore’s podcast. Follow us here.

The opening photograph, Three Stooges Eating Pie, public domain.

• The 12th House: Astrology’s House of the Rising Sun

• Nonsense & Malaise: Astrological Insights for Maneuvering the Hive

Down the Rabbit Hole: Seven Years at the Mad Hatter's Table

Frederick Woodruff — Sat, 25 Apr 2026 01:27:25 GMT

You’re reading WOODRUFF. I cover the convergence of pop culture, psychology, and astrology. Join my entourage of subscribers. My bio is here. Curious about a consultation? Head here.

“Have you guessed the riddle yet?” the Hatter said, turning to Alice again.

“No, I give it up,” Alice replied. “What’s the answer?”

“I haven’t the slightest idea,” said the Hatter.

OF ALL THE PLANETS in the pantheon, Uranus is analogous to an endlessly elusive koan. You can’t chop it, slice it, or dice it. Nope. Uranus is the essence of what Rilke meant when he said that questions were way more entertaining than answers. Also, the planet is the essence of unpredictability. A real pain within a divinatory art like astrology.

A word that best summarizes the human condition is ‘habituated.’ Because of this, when you’re planning for an upcoming Uranus transit, the keenest defense is an offense. It’s best to scan your life now and put your recurring habits in the crosshairs. Most likely, those facets of your life are what Uranus is gunning for.

For those who still hope to wrangle something directional about Uranus, I suggest they observe folks who have Uranus conjunct one of the lights—the Sun or the Moon—in their horoscope.

Hmmmm, who comes to mind with this sort of conjunction?

The president of the United States.

Take every reaction you’ve registered over the past ten years concerning Donald Trump, and there you have a condensed version of Uranus as it moves, or attempts to move, through the solar principle. The Sun is conjunct Uranus in Trump’s chart. And that’s a big deal.

Trump is a Gemini genius. You must give his inner trickster props. I’ll never ever forget that August night in 2015, watching Trump—center stage at the debate, flanked by ten other (boring, cookie-cutter) GOP candidates. Watching Trump, I felt in my bones what was happening, just then, across America. People were thinking, “This is a fucking blast. Someone is finally cutting through the political bullshit and giving us what we love most—entertainment!”

Stop for a second and consider the Sun. Our star bestows on our world boundless light. Pure lightness. The most taken-for-granted feature of life on Earth is light. Night is primary. Day is a periodic interlude—present only when the Earth faces the Sun; otherwise, we face the immensity of night. All of that black.

Light is a spectacular anomaly. Astrology is the study of light as it moves through and animates our solar system. The light reflected by the planets and our Moon contains every color, blend, and hue that makes up the world we see. There truly is nothing like the Sun.

So Trump’s solar light channels Uranus. Or attempts to. This is not an easy conjunction to align with. Uranus is a transhuman planet. When Uranus conjuncts the Sun, there is a gap between having an idea and being possessed by an idea. With Uranus, the idea has the person, not the other way around.

The Sun in Gemini, taken on its own, is a hard equation to live out. Gemini longs for connectivity, relationships—to explore every possible version of what it means to be human—and curiosity for curiosity’s sake. Gemini is the giver of names, which means everything must be encountered and then registered.

But loneliness is inherent to the Sun. Isolation is inevitable with the astrological Sun. Singularity is what holds our solar system together. Imagine if there were several stars in our system, competing to maintain harmony in space. The glory of light doesn’t blend well with families, committees, and certainly not mobs or political parties. When I’m not in an agitated state reacting to Trump, I return to the image of him as the loneliest person in the world. Trump, true to his chart’s ruler, the Sun, is a star. Or, as I call him now, with a nod to Star Wars—a Death Star.

Bob Dylan is a Gemini, too; only it’s his Moon in Taurus that conjuncts Uranus. So this is an approachable (Moon-Taurus) expression of Uranus. Uranus has entered the flesh—this is an entirely different setting. The Moon reflects and humanizes sunlight—makes it accessible, and as the Moon is directly connected to the public, the Uranus Moon person can typify and demonstrate what a more mammalian relationship to Uranus might be about or look like. That’s saying a lot. Why?

NEW May 2026 Full Moon Zoom on WOODRUFF

Frederick Woodruff — Wed, 22 Apr 2026 23:16:04 GMT

You’re reading WOODRUFF. I cover the convergence of pop culture, psychology, and astrology. Join my entourage of subscribers—you’ve been missed. My bio is here.

HEY CHILDREN OF THE CORN, on Saturday, May 2, we’re holding another Full Moon Zoom hangout for paid subscribers to WOODRUFF. This meet-up honors Uranus’ ingress into Gemini for a seven-year transit. This is the United State’s Uranus return. If you’ve hankered for a major reset for the country, well, this is it.

To participate, the only requirement is that you’re a paid subscriber to WOODRUFF.

Space is limited.

• Paid subscribers to WOODRUFF! Join me on Saturday, May 2, @ 1 PM Pacific for another lunar hangout.

• Follow this link over to Luma to register for free:

• https://luma.com/uwjtxi4m

Your link to Zoom will be sent over to you before the event starts.

See you next month!

Love,

• Astrologer and Tarot Maven TRAVIS BLACK on the WOODRUFF Cast.

• Nonsense & Malaise: Astrological Insights for Maneuvering the Hive

• The 12th House: Astrology’s House of the Rising Sun

Celestial Grift: Writing for the Astrologically Addled

Frederick Woodruff — Tue, 21 Apr 2026 17:26:01 GMT

You’re reading WOODRUFF. I cover the convergence of pop culture, psychology, and astrology. Join my entourage of subscribers. My bio is here. Curious about a consultation? Head here.

I AVOID CRITIQUING other astrologers’ writing. To do so can appear condescending, but—sorry—here I go! Since their inception, the internet and then social media have hatched thousands of self-proclaimed, unaccredited astrologers. And now, with the assistance of AI, those wily souls are publishing content that looks meaty—4,567 words on a New Moon in Gemini—but is essentially a thin gruel. “Is it real, or is it Memorex”—or ChatGPT? All the right qualities might be there, except for the heart and soul of the author.

I’ve been writing for money for over 45 years, and I can tell when scribing is being composed or finessed by AI. I knew the large language models, once set loose, would head directly for astrological literature. Astrology’s popularity is timeless; it never abates. The bots’ gobbling maws (thievery, actually) began chowing down on the heaps of cookbooks (Mars in Aries, Mars in Taurus, Mars in Gemini) that comprise a good amount of the astrological canon.

The cookbooks were priceless for helping astrologers refine their craft, but over time and practice, they would start gathering dust on the bookshelf. Or should have. What I’m saying is obvious: a horoscope cannot be delineated via attempting to piecemeal a totality via snippets from a book. What makes for a substantial horoscope reading requires the astrologer’s real-life counseling experience and the power and guidance of their imagination.

The other day I came across a Substack that was publishing labyrinthine essays on the individual Moon signs. Like 40 thousand words (or so it seemed) were churned out per Moon placement. The newsletter itself displayed all the hallmarks of AI saturation. All the images accompanying the posts—the art for the newsletter’s heading, the profile illustration of the author—all of it was chilled in the frost of AI generation.

When I trawled the various Moon sign descriptions, I recognized instantly the footprints of the aforementioned cookbooks. To compound the insult, AI had zhuzhed up the syntax with lots of New Age phrases that borrowed heavily from 1980s pop psychology (stuff about the ‘inner child’ and ‘soul hunger’).

Eventually, I clicked out, sat back, and wondered, ‘Who is reading this?’ Or more pointedly, ‘Who has the time to read this?’ and more grimly, ‘What kind of interior emptiness does it take to find this shit satisfying?’ That latter question depressed me.

So, good astrological writing? What’s it like?

Well, it’s no different from all good writing; it facilitates the thrill of discovery in the reader. Skilled writers write to encourage discovery. I don’t think this aim is consciously achieved, per se. It’s more about the life experience of the writer leaking into the syntax and bringing it to life. And so the reader picks up on this life force, too.

The writer conjures material that requires the reader to put skin in the game. Ideas that encourage the reader to think for themselves. The writer uses metaphors, analogies, pictures, and intimations that the reader fashions into insights—germane just to her. The writer spins a dream and invites the reader to step into that world.

And, again, the writer’s life experience is critical to this art-making. I had a new client last week tell me she was taken aback after booking a reading with an online astrologer who—she discovered before her appointment—was 23 years old. The client was 68. She canceled the booking.

Yes, I’m ageist

Writing like I’ve detailed above is difficult, and the effort—the chud chewing involved—is something that a chatbot can’t duplicate or capture. And that’s why I can always tell when I’m reading AI-haunted compositions—there’s no sweat showing.

Discovery while reading is different from being spoon-fed character analysis that requires no brainpower to parse and digest. To imbibe uncritically allows for dependency—maybe even addiction—thus my term: the ‘astrologically addled.’

In my essay Is Astrology Making You Crazy?, I wrote:

“People are often drawn to astrology because their volition has gone offline. This failure of faculty can occur for countless reasons. But dependence on astrological insights can foster a limiting kind of magical thinking. A passivity that requires a stream of astrological data to sustain the rationale for not engaging with life. ‘I’ll wait until Jupiter is conjunct my Mars and then get out of bed.’”

The same temperament that draws someone to astrology is sometimes, unfortunately, also tethered to a lack of common sense—shortcomings in judgment—what shrinks refer to as a ‘weak ego structure.’

Living is an ongoing odyssey—as the poet John O’Donohue noted, “It’s strange to be here. The mystery never leaves you alone.” Good astrology reminds us of this—and it’s the axiom that an ethical astrologer stands upon—and writes from. She knows that astrology can only inform us of so much.

As the renegade astrologer Antero Alii once said, “Life is bigger than astrology.”

Love,

Opening painting: Édouard Manet: Le Suicidé (ca. 1877). Public domain.

• Astrologer and Tarot Maven TRAVIS BLACK on the WOODRUFF Cast.

• Nonsense & Malaise: Astrological Insights for Maneuvering the Hive

• When Mars Turns Against You—Uh-oh!

• The 12th House: Astrology’s House of the Rising Sun

The AI Sociopath

Frederick Woodruff — Fri, 17 Apr 2026 19:56:03 GMT

You’re experiencing WOODRUFF. I cover the convergence of pop culture, psychology, and astrology. Join my entourage of subscribers—you’ve been missed. My bio is here.

“Altman is literally saying that the only way to avoid extinction is by going extinct. Extinction by merging with machines is the best-case scenario on his view.”

—Emile P. Torres

AFTER READING ’ excellent forensics on OpenAI’s Sam Altman’s recent blog post (after Altman’s home was shot at and Molotov cocktailed last week), I wanted to repost my astrological takes on Altman from last year.

Each paragraph I read in Torres’ Substack piece had me nodding my head and exclaiming, “Yes, that fucking jam-up between Taurus and Scorpio in Altman’s natal chart.”

When a devolved Taurus goes bad (see Hitler, Hirohito, Saddam Hussein, Lenin, and Cromwell), they hold nothing back, pushing the destructive potential of consolidated power to an extreme. And, of course, Altman is a Taurus with a crazy-ass Mars in Taurus in opposition to Saturn in Scorpio. And his Sun in an exact opposition to fucking Pluto. Can megalomania get anymore astro textbook?

The other big Altman news last week was the publication of the New Yorker’s Ronan Farrow’s extensive trawling of all things Altman and OpenAI. Another piece that repeatedly highlighted Altman’s sociopathology.

As Substacker posted today:

I’ve made this paid subscriber video a ‘gift post’ for those who are freeloaders here. lol. If you value my work, take out a paid subscription today.

Thanks for joining me on this odyssey.

Love,

Altman image via Tumblr, no attribution. Intro-outro music via MobyGratis.com

• Astrologer and Tarot Maven TRAVIS BLACK on the WOODRUFF Cast.

• Nonsense & Malaise: Astrological Insights for Maneuvering the Hive

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Frederick Woodruff — Wed, 15 Apr 2026 17:45:26 GMT

Under the Influence, April 14, 2026

Frederick Woodruff — Tue, 14 Apr 2026 20:36:40 GMT

Earthset captured through the Orion spacecraft window at 6:41 p.m. EDT, April 6, 2026, during the Artemis II crew’s flyby of the Moon.

You’re reading WOODRUFF. I cover the convergence of pop culture, psychology, and astrology. Join my entourage of subscribers—you’ve been missed. My bio is here.

AFTER MY DEEP DIVE INTERVIEW with astrologer Nick Dagan Best—Paint It Black: Nick Dagan Best Sees Trump’s Exit in April, I completely unplugged from anything astrological (except for a couple of minutes of ‘ah-ha’ when I considered all the arson that’s flared up across the country once Mars moved into Aries, the Zodiac’s most fiery sign, to join the Sun, Saturn, and Neptune—oh, and the war ongoing in the Middle East).

As a Cancer with Moon in Scorpio, I’ve learned to surrender to the cycles that claim me—they’ll take me up, and then, similar to hypomania, I’m brought down (but then lower or deeper) as something in my psyche forces me to unplug. Why I trust this cycle is that I know when I’m ‘down,’ there is critical excavation occurring within my unconscious. And that means something sooner (or later) will be popping out, some theme or insight that I’ll climb on top of and start riding to wherever it wants to take me. Another way to condense all of this long-windedness is to say I’m moving with the Tao.

So after the interview with Nick, I went into a holding pattern, primarily because his prediction of Trump’s disappearance sometime in April felt like a completion of sorts (even if, come April 30, he is still president). I won’t care, because the headspace I slipped into, imagining Trump absent, was so satisfying on a soul level, I—like with the Tao again—just steeped in it.

In this interim, there was the joy of following everything with the Artemis II crew’s mission. Reminding me that news related to something newsworthy in America could be uplifting and beautiful.

Furthermore, here are some other things I’ve been thinking about that you might find interesting, too.

Atheists are usually awful.

“I am a mystic and I believe in nothing.” —Gustave Flaubert

Dreary and dry—they’re certain of their uncertainty. Doubly so if they’re of the hard-headed soapboxing sort, like Richard Dawkins. Triply so if they have a prissy way of speaking, as Dawkins does.

But recently a friend posted this commentary from Dawkins, and it gave me pause. Dawkins wrote this shortly after the death of his daughter:

“We are going to die, and that makes us the lucky ones. Most people are never going to die because they are never going to be born. The potential people who could have been here in my place but who will in fact never see the light of day outnumber the sand grains of Arabia. Certainly, those unborn ghosts include greater poets than Keats, scientists greater than Newton. We know this because the set of possible people allowed by our DNA so massively exceeds the set of actual people. In the teeth of these stupefying odds, it is you and I, in our ordinariness, that are here. We privileged few, who won the lottery of birth against all odds, how dare we whine at our inevitable return to that prior state from which the vast majority have never stirred?”

After reading the above, I thought, atheists can be the most passionate mystics because they place nothing between themselves and the ultimate unknowability. And that’s pretty goddamn raw. And speaking of which:

Zen and Philosophy…

…well Western philosophy—don’t mix well. Philosophy is about compounding abstractions until your butthole inverts upon itself. Whereas Zen does away with distinctions between buttholes and mouths entirely.

So when I discovered the writings of Emil Cioran, I was floored by his non-stop stream of self-annihilating aphorisms that mimic in some ways the Zen ways that Nietzsche would occasionally rub up against. Although Cioran trots merrily beyond Nietzsche’s efforts to stay true to the craft.

Cioran is considered a nihilist (with a pessimistic chaser). But really he was an absurdist who believed that pulling the Band-Aid off in one quick rip was the best way to confront the ultimate meaninglessness of life.

People being people, they must find a way to categorize other people because, well, life is safer that way. But Cioran always managed to wiggle free, and he’d write something like “I plunged into the Absolute a fool; I emerged a troglodyte.” The first time I read that I laughed so hard—not even certain of what I read until ten minutes later.

Right now I’m re-reading his small volume, All Gall is Divided: The Aphorisms of a Legendary Iconoclast. And this one pass might actually be enough to last a lifetime. So heavily did death and suicide color his work that your survival instinct starts to pull you away from your mind’s dalliance.

Regardless, here are some of his most beguiling pulls from his oeuvre:

“The fact that life has no meaning is a reason to live—moreover, the only one.”

“We have convictions only if we have studied nothing thoroughly.”

“We are born to Exist, not to know, to be, not to assert ourselves.”

And my favorite:

“There is no other world. Nor even this one. What, then, is there? The inner smile provoked in us by the patent nonexistence of both.”

A Lost in the 70s Reverie.

As soon as I hear one of the tracks from Steely Dan’s masterpiece Aja, I smell weed.

But I’m recalling a focused, almost academic stoner-ism from back in the late 70s. This was one of those watershed cultural moments—right before the music business became the equivalent of giant shoulder pads in women’s clothing and Smokey and the Bandit playing 24/7 at the Cinerama.

Meaning, Steely Dan records were the last exhalation of pop-rock-jazz that was both un-self-consciously exceptional and fun. Albums that offered you the same thrill as reading prose from, say, Nabokov or Woolf.

A good writer will tell you that your first couple of drafts involve a (deluded) notion of reaching perfection. The best you can bring. But the final draft involves dismantling the perfection—to make the syntax read like it just fell out of your brain and onto the page. All the signs of perfection (or, god forbid, showiness) are smudged out. The prose is returned to earth but in an off-the-cuff but still kinda confounding way.

Steely Dan made their records in the same way. Yes, sonically they call up the tired Swiss watch metaphor, but they transcend their fastidiousness and pass into a strangeness that is beyond perfection. And so listening while high, you’d listen for all the subtle symphonious shifts while also thinking, “But wait, this is just pop music.”

The critic Don Breithaupt wrote: “Steely Dan records contain harmonic shifts, the way other records contain melodic, rhythmic, and lyrical motifs.”

The other night I got into a peculiar mood and decided to parse out what exactly was going on in Aja’s Peg—a hit single that just skirted the Top 10 after its release in late 77.

But instead of focusing on the legendary Polynesian-inspired guitar solo by Jay Gradon (legendary because Becker and Fagan auditioned eight different maven guitarists before settling on Gradon—who played regularly for Barbra Streisand and The Carpenters!) I went behind the curtain and fixated on the multi-tracked background vocals the boy’s saddled former alumnus Michael McDonald with.

Peg is so tightly arranged, like a Byzantine mosaic, it’s easy to miss (or take for granted) the bizarre vocal achievement McDonald was asked to deliver. It’s like he was instructed, “OK, so first open up your throat so you sound like a synthesized horn. And then sing ‘round back on top of the phrase you just delivered, but in a different pitch.”

There’s barely any room between intervals for McDonald to catch his breath and bring in the next line while harmonizing with himself. Listen to how he shoves out the words ‘foreign movie’ a half-beat before Fagan even sings the lyric. McDonald’s performance is like space-age scatting.

Better yet, listen to McDonald himself explain his process for you. And then listen to Peg again after you’ve smoked a bowl.

Love,

Cioran photo: Unknown.

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