Shaolin vs. Venus Retrograde

This edition of Nerdcore Astrotypes will be presented in Shaw Scope.




The Discordant Lover
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It's a continual source of wonder for me: how certain pieces of media float into my life at the exact time that current astrological conditions cause thematic elements within said media to truly stand out and be recognized. I've come to expect the movement of the heavens to dictate events here on the ground, but for whatever reason, I'm always blindsided by the fact that this should also apply to my television.

I will, occasionally, configure my Netflix queue to match up with upcoming transits for this reason. But the joy is really in the surprises, the times when randomly chosen entertainment offers insight into relevant archetypes.



Such is the case with Heroes of The East. I picked it up on the merit that it is a) an old school Kung Fu flick, b) produced by the Shaw Bros., and c) stars badass extraordinaire, Gordon Liu, well-known as the star of Shaolin Master Killer, and for his recent portrayal of Chinese folk anti-hero Pai Mei in Tarantino's Kill Bill. Little did I know, this spectacle of choreographed martial prowess would present lessons of a Venusian nature.


Gordon Liu, doing his thang.

Venus is the planet of social connections, desire and personal preference, and is generally code for all things pertaining to maidenhood and feminine youth. The planet is, of course, named for the Roman goddess of love and beauty, known to the Greeks as Aphrodite.

The plot of Heroes goes like this: Ah To (Liu) is a young Chinese man from a well-to-do family. His passion for Kung Fu has yielded considerable proficiency. He has reached marrying age, and his father has arranged a union to a family friend's daughter, a young Japanese woman named Kung Zi. Ah To abhors the thought of an arranged marriage, and vehemently protests until he sees Kung Zi's beauty first-hand. He is instantly won over by her bright look, her presence, and her charisma. Our Venus has appeared.

However, shortly after the wedding day, a few of Ah To's subordinates hear sounds of violence and a woman's pained groans coming from the other side of the courtyard wall. They comically assume that Ah To has taken to beating his wife. After being scolded for an imagined offense, Ah To goes to the courtyard to examine the source of the strange noises. There, he finds Kung Zi in full dogi and hakama (the pajama and skirt combo that can be found in various Japanese martial arts schools,) and finds her practicing the strikes, throws, and forms of Karate and Judo, two of Japan's most well-known martial arts. He comes to discover that she is as passionate about fighting science as he is, being well-versed in many different styles of weaponry and fighting tactics.

As with all martial ideologies, a dick-waving contest ensues between Chinese martial arts and Japanese martial arts. But who wants to get into a dick-waving contest with one's own wife?

This is the question which Venus presents in the fiery sign of Aries, where it has taken up residence since the first week of February, and where it will assume retrograde motion from March 6th until April 17th. Retrograde motion, for those who don't know, is a period when a certain planet appears to be moving backwards across the sky from our vantage point on Earth. The effect is that of turning the planet's energies on their head.

Rampage
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Those familiar with Mercury retrogrades will recall the misunderstandings, the miscommunication, the gridlocked traffic, the incomprehensibly slow internet connections, and the actual destruction of personal items that aided in relaying messages. I, myself, have had a couple of cell phones fall victim to this curse.

Even without the retrograde, Venus is already handicapped in Aries, universally considered to be one of its two Detriments, a place where its natural functions are subverted. Where Venus normally seeks to create connections to all that is sensually or intellectually enjoyable, the ram-like nature of Aries seeks only to dominate by force of will. Thus, Venus in Aries women are often slow to adopt the normal feminine trappings of make-up and fashion and soul-destroying gossip. This is the tomboy, more likely to watch Die Hard and slug softballs than to give half a shit about which pubescent pseudo-celebrity is gracing the cover of Tiger Beat.


It's kind of like this.

When (If) they finally do grow up and connect with the things that other women consider feminine, the tendency is to wield the subtle womanly wiles as though they were series of blunt clubs. This is the unfortunate lass who cakes on layers of bright eyeliner, who wears the lowest-cut dress with the brightest eye-sore plumage, who thinks that seduction equates to a tactless and aggressive deployal of tits and ass. Actually, that last one sounds pretty great. The true difficulties reveal themselves when the target of said affection expects the Venus in Aries woman to calm down and start acting demure or nurturing.

Cut back to our happy couple: while Ah To is delighted that his bride shares his interests, he questions the unladylike attire of the gi (which almost reveals her chest to the servants,) and the squatting, unladylike stances of her preferred martial arts. He attempts to teach her the graceful subtlety of Kung Fu footwork. This gets him slammed into the ground by Kung Zi's Judo throws. He laughs it off, confident that she will come around to his way of thinking.

She doesn't. She continues extolling the virtues of her nation's martial arts, claiming their vast superiority over Chinese martial arts. She also practices her breaking techniques on the courtyard walls, destroying them. She has all of Ah To's Chinese weaponry moved out of the training hall to make room for her own assortment of swords and spears, claiming that the straight blade and flexible spear that her husband employs are worthless to her. All in all, she unmans him in front of his family and Kung Fu brothers; he appears whipped and beaten by his woman. So, Ah To leaves soft reason behind and chooses a more direct and authoritative approach to the marital disagreement.



This, of course, leads to a sword fight. Then a spear fight. Then a duel with concealed weaponry. At one point, chopsticks are thrown with killing intent.

Kung Zi is beaten soundly. Ah To's Chinese weaponry and barehanded fighting techniques dominate her at every turn. He even mocks her sword work, claiming that the samurai bladework looks like “a beggar with a stick, trying to chase away a stray dog.” Unable to live in a home where her pride is forfeit, she leaves Ah To, running back home to Japan.

Distraught and desperate for his wife's return, a very drunk Ah To accepts the terrible advice of his comic relief second-banana: he issues a formal challenge to his wife, a duel in every category of weaponry and fighting style. Counting on her pride and tenacity, the hope is that she will accept the challenge, return to China, and be reasoned with. Instead, she shows the challenge to her many Sensei, all specialists of a particular Japanese martial discipline. They take it as an affront to their national honor.

And so, Kung Zi does return, but she does so with a posse of weapon masters, all ready to meet Ah To's challenge.



Are You Strong Enough To Be My Man?
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The rest of the plot is expectantly mindless, pornography for action junkies. Ah To takes on each martial arts master in turn, one per day. He faces a Kendo sensei in a match with live blades. After a crash course in Drunken Boxing, he faces a Karate practitioner. There's a grappling match with a Judo guy, a stick fight, a knife fight, a spear duel, and finally, a showdown with a rival suitor who uses the stealthy and underhanded tactics on Ninjutsu. This being a Chinese film made by martial artists, it's basically an excuse for them to piss on Japan. Thus, Ah To wins every single contest (though he has to cheat a bit against the Judo guy, greasing himself up so he cannot be thrown.)

There isn't much astrological merit to talk up in any of this. But there are two plot points in the second half of the film that I think lend particular insight into the Venus in Aries archetype. My hope is that these insights may be of use to a man who finds himself on the business end of her affection. Or to a woman who finds herself particularly influenced by this transit, helplessly watching herself becoming a “psycho hose beast,” unsure as to why she cannot stop throwing punches at those she would like to kiss.

But first, a bit of backtracking for the purpose of clarity:

In a nutshell, the Venus in Aries archetype is proud of its personal tastes and desires, viewing them as an extension of personal power and identity. I work with a Venus in Aries girl who claimed she made “the best quesadillas.” Taking a bite of one, I smiled and said, “Hey, this is really good.” Stonefaced, she replied, “No! They're THE BEST.”


Another fine example.

This Venus is openly hostile to any affront to their personal power, whether that affront is intentional or perceived. In our film, Kung Zi defines herself and her power in a pretty basic way: by her love of strength and fighting prowess. Now, having had her power dominated by a greater force, there are generally two actions that this Venus will take: she will either a) submit to the dominant force, perhaps seeking its tutelage so that its power can become her own, or b) whine about the injustice of the circumstances, and seek out something with which they can punish their enemy. The militant feminist movement is a fan of the latter course.

Venus' retrograde movement is relevant here: Kung Zi actually “moves backwards,” retreating from her new home and married life to reevaluate her power in her homeland. There, she finds a means with which to punish her enemy, her husband.

Now, here is where the first of the two aforementioned interesting plot points comes into play. Upon her return to China, Kung Zi meets with Ah To, who berates her for bringing death to his doorstep. Surprisingly, Kung Zi offers a sincere apology. She did not want the masters to come to Japan with her, did not want them to answer the challenge in her stead. And she certainly doesn't want to see Ah To dead. Admitting her mistake, she offers him her help and support, and stays by his side as he answers each challenge, offering him advice, encouragement, and support.

Ah ha! Don't be surprised when you observe or experience reflections of this in the coming month. Those who are particularly influenced by Venus' retrograde movement will throw a tantrum, pick up their favorite dolly, and rip out its little stuffing-filled guts. But when it assumes direct motion, or perhaps before, they will sit on the floor and weep because they can no longer play with their favorite toy. It falls upon those who love her to either keep her from wrecking her own property, or to help her sew up the belly of some stuffed animals and assure her that they are as good as new. Nevermind the stitching, it adds character!

The other plot point: Ah To's first duel is against the Kendo teacher, who uses a real katana. He counters with what Kung Fu practitioners often call the “King of Weapons,” the gentlemanly Jian, commonly known in the West as a “Tai Chi Sword.” His graceful fencing out-jukes the deft, forceful slashes of his samurai opponent. Finding an opportunity to win, he pulls his strike short, resting the flat edge of his blade on the Kendo teacher's throat rather than slicing it open.

The Kendo teacher sheathes his sword. He then takes the sheathes sword in one hand, thrusting it forth. He has admitted defeat, and is attempting to offer his sword to the victor as a sign that he has submitted.

But Ah To is unfamiliar with this Japanese custom. He stays on guard, wary of a trick. The samurai takes this as a refusal of his respect, and a stain on his honor. He throws down the sword, drops to his knees, pulls out a dagger, and tries to thrust it into his own belly. Before he can commit seppuku (a form of ritual suicide,) his blade is kicked away by one of his comrades.

After their reconciliation, Ah To questions his wife about the incident. She informs him of the Kendo teacher's intention to surrender, and the insult that Ah To had unwittingly committed. She says that, had he taken the blade, they would have become lifelong friends, and he would have earned the samurai's eternal respect. But with the refusal, he could either expect the samurai to take his life or swear revenge.

Ah ha! This samurai is acting as a surrogate for Kung Zi's personal power – he is an extension of the Venusian current that is bringing strife to this scenario. But here is where the heart of the problem is addressed. The core of the conflict is that Kung Zi feels that her taste and power has been disrespected. Through the samurai's actions, we see that Venus (now considered direct,) is not unwilling to recognize that Chinese martial arts (the other party's opinions, preferences, power) have merit and are worthy of respect.

Had she drawn this conclusion at the start of the film, the two martial artists could have cohabitated without issue, respecting eachother's martial preferences. Ah To questioned her unfamiliar methods and trappings, mostly in a curious, inquisitive way. She saw this as open disrespect, and the nasty business unfolded without relent. But now that she has come to her sense, he has to be willing to trust and accept her again. If he can't, then there can be no peace.

Sure enough, Ah To and the samurai share the final scene of the film. Having defeated each of the masters, Ah To stands before them, where the samurai tries to instigate a second duel. Through an interpreter, Ah To apologizes for his actions, explaining that he misunderstood, and would be honored to accept the katana. Emotion heavy on his face, the samurai once again offers his blade up, this time accepted, and a lifelong friendship is presumably forged as the credits roll.

While the absence of conflict is an impossibility in a relationship, this truth is exacerbated through Venus in Aries, whose womanly individuality must be respected if favorable relations are to be maintained. She is strong-willed and independent, no stranger to a fight, and always up for a little lovers' quarrel. The difference is that the retrograde will see her looking to take these spats to a blood-feud level, and that she will likely go looking to start them at any excuse.

If you're this Venus' mate, walking on eggshells around the problem won't help. It'll probably be taken as a sign of weakness and a cue to steamroll you on any point of contention. If she wants a fight, then you either have to remain whipped and submissive, or man up and fight back. But as you do, make sure that your efforts to assert yourself are as benign as possible to her self-image. Look closely for signs that she wants to make up, as this can and should lead to make up sex.

One last Gamer Pro Tip: if all this talk about submitting and dominating wasn't a large enough clue, this Venus is often into bondage or some other manifestation of power dynamics in the bedroom. An impromtu wrestling match can make for great foreplay. This author suggests “Kung Zi,” “Jian,” or “quesadilla” as being potentially excellent safewords.

Venus in Gemini

The Girl in the Eye of the Storm

On Sunday, May 25^th, Venus left her cozy dignity in Taurus, and set off into the wild winds of Gemini.

Like the goddess of her namesake, Venus' area of interest is in finding and reveling in pleasurable sensations. The movement of Venus into a new sign will also denote a shift in the overall demeanor of comely young women worldwide.

In Taurus, finding ways to please Venus doesn't take a lot of imagination – delicious food, a nice massage, a kiss. Its approach to pleasure is basic, tactile. This makes it very easy for Venus to operate here, where she deals with what is comfortable, stable, and physically pleasant. The Venus in Taurus woman is one who is desirable in an obvious but substantial way, and one whose desires are sated by the same method. She is a lovely young woman who is laid-back and easy to talk to, and she wants a piece of cheesecake.

Where Taurus' concerns center around life's bare necessities (food, shelter, sexual gratification, routine,) Gemini, ruled by Mercury, is all about intellect, versatility, easy acumen, and the schism of personality which can result in a polarization of values and (sometimes) mental instability. When the light of Venus is shined through this particular filter, the result is an aggressively brainy young woman, a "thinking man's sex kitten," who is likely more interested in chess than in cheesecake.

There is a suprising/disturbing amount of pornography devoted to this one.

Here, some distinctions should be drawn. Libra, Gemini's Cardinal Air cousin, is the other dignity of Venus. Like Venus in Gemini, Venus in Libra seduces and is seduced by what she finds interesting and intellectually pleasurable. However, Libra's penchant for balance and openness to new experiences leaves it in a much easier position to flirt and charm. Venus in Libra is a coquette who seduces through BEING an interesting and pleasurable experience, a person who everyone wants to know and talk to. For Gemini, however, polarization is fundamental, and Venus here may naturally divide a camp of potential friends into those who love her and those who cannot stand her. She's a debater, not an appeaser. She's got too much internal strife to keep it out of her interactions with others. However, her mutable nature and curiosity for a vast array of social interactions can also make her a bit of a chameleon, someone who can drift between very different cliques with no large effort. Just as the messenger god, Mercury, can travel anywhere and be welcome, Venus in Gemini can make friends anywhere.

Sexy Stolen Sandals

Being that Gemini falls under Mercury's rulership, I tend to think of the myth of Mercury's seduction of Venus when considering the mindset of Venus in Gemini. The myth goes a little something like this:

"Mercurius [Hermes] stirred by Venus's [Aphrodite's] beauty, fell in love with her, and when she permitted no favours, became greatly downcast, as if in disgrace. Jove [Zeus] pitied him, and when Venus [Aphrodite] was bathing in the river Achelous he sent and eagle to take her sandal to Amythaonia of the Egyptians and give it to Mercurius [Hermes]. Venus [Aphrodite], in seeking for it, came to him who loved her, and so he, on attaining his desire, as a reward put the eagle in the sky [as the constellation Aquilla]." - Hyginus, Astronomica 2.16

Gemini is represented by the twins, one being the divine/light twin, and the other being the mortal/dark twin. The two are utterly opposite in terms of principles, method, and manner, which in inconvenient in that they are irreversibly bound together in whatever planet is taking up residence in Gemini. Therefore, a lot of what Venus in Gemini is drawn to deals with that which seems either opposite or combatant. It is interesting to note that in the above myth, Mercury couldn't get the time of day until he took on an adversarial nature, thus becoming that "other" that Venus was interested in and drawn toward. It is also interesting to note that he was unsuccessful until he separated Venus from something that belonged to her, perhaps another nod to a sense of internal division and Venus in Gemini's need to reconcile the difference through combination of opposites. (Incidentally, their child is the androgynous god Hermaphroditus, whose name is the basis for the word "hermaphrodite," a very real example of this union of opposite forces.)

Solve for (Se) x

This myth plays itself out (minus hermaphrodite children) in David Auburn's play Proof, winner of the 2001 Tony and Pulitzer Prize, which was later adapted into a film starring Gwyneth Paltrow, Jake Gyllenhaal and Anthony Hopkins.

The play centers around Catherine, the daughter of a great mathematical genius who has just passed away. Shortly before the funeral, Hal, one of her father's best students, comes to their home to survey some of her father's final notes in the slight hope that he had discovered something important in a rare moment of clarity. Her father, Robert, had made revolutionary discoveries in his field very young in life, though his last twenty years had been an on-and-off battle with mental illness. Catherine acted as her father's caretaker towards the end of his life, at the expense of her own education and ambition.

Catherine is put off by Hal's intrusion of her space during a time of grieving, and accuses him of attempting to steal her father's work. A forced search of his backpack proves otherwise. She is apologetic and embarrassed by the hasty accusation, but as Hal tries to exit, a single notebook falls from under his jacket. Catherine, obviously enraged, calls the police. Hal tells her that he only meant to take it so that he could make it a present to her, as it contains praise and complimentary statements about her from her father's own hand.

Catherine's sister, Claire, turns up for the funeral. Claire is married, living in New York, has a sensible job, and is a bit of a yuppie. She presents a "light twin" opposite to Catherine, who is a disheveled Chicago resident with no career plans, having invested so much of herself into caring for her father. Though it was once implied that Catherine had inherited her father's brilliant mind, Claire also seems to believe that she has inherited his mental instability, and makes efforts to try and take control of Catherine's life.

Catherine and Hal end up seeing more of each other during and after her father's funeral. His good-natured, nerdy charm ends up winning her over, and the two end up sleeping together.

The crux of the play comes on the morning after, when Hal finds an amazing new theory among her father's papers, a long-awaited proof of a famous conjecture about prime numbers. His excitement is short-lived, as Catherine informs him that it was not her father's proof at all, and that she had written it herself. The question of her mental health and her lack of formal education make her statement hard to swallow for both Hal and Claire, especially given that her handwriting bears an uncanny resemblance to her father's. Catherine, meanwhile, has no way to prove (get it, "Proof?") that the theory is her own work. The rest of the play revolves around this issue, and the rift that has been driven between Hal and Catherine, who is hurt and shaken by his lack of trust in her intellect and stability.

Just as Hermes stole a shoe for a good cause, Hal also charmed Catherine by attempting to separate her from something that she was closely guarding – her father and his work were something that she came to consider a part of her being.

We also have a repeated theme of the classic Gemini "light twin/dark twin" theme. Catherine, with no credentials, questionable sanity, and aggressive demeanor, represents the dark twin in each scenario. While Claire certainly represents one aspect of polarization, Hal himself is another polarizing element to Catherine. Being a student of her father, he takes aspects of being one of his children, especially given that they both learned higher mathematics at his knee. There is an undercurrent of resent on both ends – for Catherine, she would have liked to have studied from her father in a formal, academic setting. For Hal, he would have liked to have known is teacher better as a man and a father figure. This twin effect in romance sounds kind of gross at first, but it makes a lot of sense given Gemini's allocation to The Lovers card in the Tarot.

Through Catherine, we can see that Venus in Gemini takes pride in expressing the contents of its mind, and in being taken seriously about that matter. Though Hal is able to charm her by proving himself intelligent and trustworthy, he burns this bridge when he is unable to extend the same courtesy to her. He neither trusts in her sanity nor her ability, and that is not a pleasant feeling to Venus in Gemini.

Rival Suitors and Fast Women

Another staple of this Gemini-polarization theme, when applied to Venus, is that it can cause division in the lovers that Venus in Gemini seeks out.

This can mean a lot of things. It can lead to mutability of partners (they get around.) It can also mean diversity of partner – I have a good friend with Venus in Gemini natally, and every girl he ends up with is completely different; he doesn't have a type, and is curious about all types of women. The only real link between the women he finds himself with is that they are all rather intelligent.

Another thing that'll often happen, whether by design or by accident, is that Venus in Gemini will cause two or more suitors to fight over her. I've seen it unfold in real life, and it's pretty gross.

A fine example of this type of polarization occurs in Martin Scorsese's Oscar-winning film, The Departed. This adaption of the Hong Kong action-thriller Infernal Affairs is a dangerous game of rat-versus-rat. Leonardo DiCaprio plays a cop who goes undercover in the mob. Matt Damon plays a gangster who acts as a mole in the Boston Police Department. Over time, the two become aware that there is a leak in the system, and take action to try to flush one another out.

Vera Farmiga plays Dr. Madolyn Madden, a Boston PD psychiatrist. DiCaprio's character is her patient, and the two carry on sessions with an air of dangerous flirtation. Damon's character, meanwhile, is her fiancée. As the battle between the two unfolds, she finds herself torn between loyalty and duty, unable to do much but distribute information to more powerful men on behalf of each of her suitors.

Dr. Madden is an accredited, confident, conventionally beautiful young woman who finds herself in a tumultuous and potentially dangerous situation. As such, she represents a polarization within this article, as the next person we're going to talk about is Marla Singer.

Marla Singer is a character from Fight Club, a book by Chuck Palahniuk which was adapted into a film by Jim Uhls and director David Fincher. In the film, Marla is played by the lovely and charming Helena Bonham-Carter. The character herself, though quick-witted as any Gemini, is a dark and self-destructive figure who chain-smokes through life while doing a lot of things you're not supposed to do (early in the film, she steals laundry from a out of coin-operated dryer, walks across the street to a used clothing store, and sells it,) and saying a lot of things you're not supposed to say (post-coitus, she remarks, "I haven't been fucked like that since grade school."). She is what a person might call a "fast woman," which is funny given Gemini's penchant for speed and fast-thinking – the reason why many who have important natal stuff in Gemini take a liking to the accessible, mentally-stimulating addictions like caffeine and nicotine.

The sexy & venerable HBC as Marla

She is the earliest representation of the anarchistic theme which runs throughout the plot. The anarchy delivered later on in the film is of a broader, revolutionary nature. Marla's attitude represents a sort of personal anarchy; no one can tell her that she can't do something if she knows full well that she is able to do it. According the Oxford English dictionary, it is a ""Absence or non-recognition of authority and order in any given sphere." In this case, the terms "authority" and "order" extend to what is socially acceptable; when we are introduced to Marla, she is attending a number of support groups though she shares no affliction with any of the attendees. For example, she meets the protagonist while attending a support group for testicular cancer.

The unnamed narrator of Fight Club (Edward Norton in the film) doesn't have testicular cancer, either. Like Marla, he is a "tourist," attending these support group meetings though not suffering from any particular affliction. He merely goes there for the emotional release, and so that he might be allowed to cry with a group of other sad people. The one thing that he does suffer from is insomnia, and the group hugs and catharsis of tears help him to sleep at night. That is, until Marla shows up at all of the same support groups, and the parasitic nature of his actions are reflected back at him.

Now, Fight Club is kind of an archetyping lay-up – the best friend/worst enemy roles that the narrator and the character of Tyler Durden (played by Brad Pitt in the film) take toward each other while working toward a singular purpose; it's all overwhelmingly characteristic of Gemini's internal strife, especially given their disparate nature and appearance.

But Marla's intrusion into the support groups is also a textbook patten of Gemini interference. She is the same thing as the narrator, only she has no qualms about the possible immorality actions. She polarizes him and reflects his own dark nature. Her appearance is likely a catalyst for the events which unfold when the narrator's dark side begins to take over, and the titular fight club is assembled.

Being that Marla is in the center of the conflict between the narrator and Tyler Durden, she also shares the same function as our psychiatrist from The Departed. For Dr. Madden, however, the fact that her suitors are on opposite sides of a war is a bit incidental; they would be fighting with or without her. For the narrator and Tyler, Marla is at the heart of their conflict; she's the one who caused them to divide and fight one another. In the end, though they have both slept with her, their feelings toward her are also polarized. One is in love and seeks to protect her, and the other sees her as a threat that must be eliminated.

Talk Nerdy to Me

Venus is not particularly strong in Gemini. Neither is it particularly weak, but occasionally it does take a little work to get a Gemini-type girl to put the book down and own up to being Venus-y. Kind of like the hot girl from She's All That, where no one knows she's a hot girl until she takes off her glasses and puts on a dress. But for a guy who's into Venus in Gemini, the preference might be that the glasses stay on. I know I had a big crush on Lisa Loeb back in the day, and I have a bigger crush on Dorothy Parker nowadays. (Dorothy was actually a Leo with a career ruled by Jupiter in Gemini. But that's another story...)

Legal!

At current, we can see this type of Venus in Sol's spotlight, as she walks hand in hand with the Sun through the middle degrees of Gemini, in conjunction with retrograde Mercury. While Mercury retrogrades are fraught with communicative malfunction, they are also a time for reconsideration, reconciliation, and quiet reflection. As stated, Venus is not in its dignity in Gemini, but Mercury is, and Venus is be taking its cues off of that selfsame retrograde.

Now would be a be a time for society to open its eyes and take notice of all the hot little Hermione Grangers and Tina Feys of the world. At the same time, it is a time when those same ladies will stop giving favor to either the angel or the devil on their shoulders and start recognizing that both have important things to tell them. We may see some good girls getting their groove back and some bad girls turning better. I hope not too much better, though. The world needs Marla Singers.

Speaking of singers...

Delicious Lisa Loeb. Not pictured: music.

Taoist sexual alchemy as explained through use of an anime reference.

Notice: This article contains mature content. It is peppered with references to pee-pees and yum-yums. You done been disclaimered.

Back!
I know it probably looked like The Angel of Death had paid me a visit on account of my last piece. But no. For reasons that are boring and irrelevant (mostly related to Saturn transitioning my First House,) I had to take a teensy hiatus there. But we're hoping that's all behind us, and I should be back up here on my soap box to spew my madness to anyone who'll stop and listen at least once or twice a month.

So, let's talk about sex and anime. Don't worry, I'll cycle back around to astrology somehow.

Sexuality and Super Moves


Yu Yu Hakusho is a Shounen series about a group of four super-powered individuals who investigate spiritual imbalances in the living world on behalf of The Spirit Realm (the land of the dead. A mix between Heaven and Hades, essentially.) Like all other Shounen anime, however, it ends up being an excuse to see our young adventurers battle other groups of super-powered individuals, which inevitably leads to a story arc involving a martial arts tournament.

It is in this tournament arc that we focus, and on one character in particular: the diminutive, brooding anti-hero named Hiei. But first, a rundown on the general theory of Taoist sexual alchemy.

*WARNING: These practices can be dangerous if you do them improperly. Please don't mistake any of the following for instruction. I'll recommend some good books on the subject later for anyone interested in learning more.



If you've any familiarity with Tai Chi or Yoga, you've probably heard of the theoretical property known as chi, ki, or prana. Whatever name you give it (we'll stick with "chi" for the duration,) it is a raw source of bio-electric energy that exists in every living thing. It is within us from birth, and is also drawn from natural sources like breath, food, and sleep. Meditative practices such as those listed above can increase both the amount of chi in the body and the quality of chi flow in the body, as emotional or physical trauma, among other factors, can stagnate the chi.

Physical and mental exertion are two factors that can deplete chi. So is loss of blood, as in menstruation. So is ejaculation.

Taoist sexuality, therefore, aims to conserve energy by eliminating the need to ejaculate. "Fuck that!" some of you may be saying. Well, hang on a sec. You still have orgasms, you just learn to separate orgasm from ejaculation. See, when you stimulate an area of the body, such as the genitals, a lot of blood and chi is accumulated in that spot. Most Taoist sexual practices include the method of drawing this chi from the genitals, up the spine, up into the crown point on the top of your head. And it feels fantastic.

When you've had your fun, it's usually a good idea to allow the chi to flow down the front of your body into the dan tien (a couple inches below the navel,) where it can be stored.



Dedication to this practice can allow a man to have orgasms that last minutes, even hours, which is a lot more hang time and a lot less clean up than doing it the old-fashioned way. And also, sipping this energy up the spine and through the proper channels leads to a more harmonious flow of chi. It's like Tai Chi for your penis! (or vagina.)

With this in mind, we turn back to Hiei.

I named mine "Fiery Death Dragon."

Hiei is a demon who fights on the side of the angels. This is out of respect for Yuusuke, the protagonist, who beat him soundly in one of the earliest fights in the series. Being a fire demon, the culmination of Hiei's power is the ability to use the Ensatsu Kokuryu Ha ("Fiery Murderous Black Dragon Wave,") wherein he summons up a draconian apparition composed entirely from hellfire. The dragon is sealed inside of a black tattoo which runs up Hiei's right arm, and it is from there that it is conjured.


The wind-up...

...and the pitch!

As one might expect, the goal of this technique is to reduce the target to cinders, which is exactly what Hiei does the first time he uses it. He also ends up with horrible burns on the entirety of his right arm. Clearly, damaging oneself in a fight is less than ideal. So he decides not to use the technique until he can control it, and goes off to train and train and train.

So it goes with run of the mill male sexuality. The ability to produce and expel sperm is a powerful talent! But it comes at the cost of a large depletion of chi, which is the reason many guys pass out shortly after blowing a load. We need to recover from self-inflicted damage.

The results of Hiei's training are evident in the decisive final battle of the tournament. He is forced to play his trump card once again, but this time, he sustains no damage, and the technique is exponentially more powerful - so much so that random, low-level demons, spectators to the dark proceedings, burst into flames and die without even coming near the fearsome projectile.

But Hiei's opponent, Bui, is not only able to sustain a direct hit from the dragon, but is able to turn it around and throw it back at Hiei. It looks as though Hiei will be destroyed by his own weapon, but of course, he isn't. In fact, having the dragon turned back on him was what he had trained for, what he was waiting for. It turns out that when the caster sucks back in his own Kokuryuha, it acts as a powerful "drug" which temporarily jacks up their speed and strength. With this, he easily outmaneuvers and overpowers Bui, winning the match handily.

It turns out that a side-effect of gaining this power is that Hiei needs to rest and sleep to recuperate from the use of the dragon. So it is here that any similarity with Taoist sexual practice ends; if a man were to retain his semen and store the resultant chi, he would not need to pass out after, and may even feel wired from the collected energy in the crown point.


Was it good for you?

But aside from this difference, what Hiei did in that match is akin to what Taoist sexual practices attempt to do. Rather than fire our supermove off with reckless abandon, it's better to turn it inward and self-fertilize. I realize that sounds a little gross. The added stamina and lifespan, however, are not.

Let's talk about Uranus and The Moon.

Powerful Foundations

Uranus is a very Yang/male energy, one which is known to shatter structures for the purpose of change. For this reason, it has been associated with revolution and new, daring ideas. Ingenious breakthroughs. It is also associated with sperm, which causes a drastic change in the structure of the ovum - it makes it into a baby.

The Moon is the light which represents foundations, both physical and emotional. It is archetypal Yin/feminine, passive and motherly. Not very pro-active, you'll usually see a person's Venus or Mars acting for the benefit of The Moon. It is meant to support, and to be a fertile ground for vitality within the body.

I have observed some very negative effects when Uranus transits The Moon. Many people don't have very malleable physical or emotional foundations, and are unwilling to accept the changes that Uranus wants to bring about. This can cause a person to be exposed to an idea that shakes them to the core, wherein they either have to change how they feel or live a lie. Or it can be something as blunt as a near-death experience, wherein actual physical harm is inflicted.

This is not without mythological basis. We can see typical patterns of the Moon-Uranus relationship in the Greek creation myth. Wikipedia sez: "In the Olympian creation myth...Uranus came every single night to cover the earth and mate with Gaia, but he hated the children she bore him...Uranus imprisoned Gaia's youngest children in Tartarus, deep within Earth, where they caused pain to Gaia." Uranus' demands can cause discomfort and pain to The Moon, as he is as emotionally distant to that which he bears as she is protective and nurturing.

The sperm-ovum idea is a beneficial outcome of the Uranus-Moon relationship. So is sexual alchemy.

The sperm (Uranian energy) is anchored to the body (Moon.) Uncomfortable staying in one spot when excited, it tries to burst free. The body, sensing that it would be pleasurable to expel the sperm, willingly complies. The result is not really that great for either, though. The Moon becomes less fertile, and Uranus ends up on the business end of a gym sock.

Unless! If Uranus is worked with, harnessed, controlled, then it can be directed into the very soil where it originated. The Moon increases in fecundity, which translates into a higher sense of well-being for the man, and in many cases, a greater emotional stability.

It's at this point that I psychically sense a collective impatience in my female readers. Don't worry, gals. The sexual energy collected in your sacred hoo-ha can serve the same Uranian purpose if circulated up the spine and to the crown. And you don't have to worry about any loss of chi though ejaculation...unless you're a squirter, and even then, I'm not sure how much chi you'd lose. Maybe some of you girls would like to join me to study this? I've moved out of my parents house, and I have manga and Dr. Pepper. Rrrow. (Just kidding, I don't drink Dr. Pepper.)

The ladies do lose a lot of chi once a month to Aunt Flo, but I have read about Taoist practices which supposedly turn off that faucet, thereby keeping the chi all stored up.

Also ladies, I should add that these techniques exist for your pleasure. A man who has practiced sexual Kung Fu will last way longer in the sack, will be more attentive and patient, and will likely seek out a higher state of ecstasy through emotional connection with you, his lover. And because the goal is to eliminate ejaculation, they run less of a risk of impregnating you...unless you're trying to get preggers, in which case, they'll be the drone who has super sperm, to make a strong and healthy baby. Lastly, a guy who practices Taoist sexual alchemy will be much less likely to spunk on your stomach.

If you'd like to learn more about the individual components of the preceding insanity melange, then please look to the links provided below:

Mantak Chia's "The Multi-Orgasmic Man" on Amazon.com.
Mantak Chia's "The Multi-Orgasmic Woman" on Amazon.com.
Books by Stephen T. Chang. ("The Tao of Sexology" is probably one of the best books on the subject.)
The Deer Exercise for Men.
The Moon & Uranus.
Yoshihiro Togashi.

Until next time!

A Scorpionic Notion

I was all set to write something about Batman, when suddenly...

Last weekend, I was struck with a particularly Scorpionic notion.

I'm very particular about naming it a simple notion, as I don't have the magical instruction to construct a theory on this matter. But maybe, just maybe, this will set off a light bulb in someone that is better trained in Golden Dawn or Enochian magic or what have you. Or, more likely, this notion has already been notioned up by someone long ago in a faraway land, and that fleshed-out theory is already in existence.

Nevertheless! I will expound with abandon, and through a tag-team use of two particularly nerdy mediums: Comic Books and Foreign Film.

Mercury's still in Scorpio. So let's talk of death, the force which ferries us past the veil of this world. Scorpio's rulership is split between Mars, the planet of war, and Pluto, the planetoid connected to death and the deep subconscious. It is from the latter rulership that Scorpio becomes the sign best suited for dealing with death. Both in accepting it when it comes and in doing whatever it can to preserve life.

Once again, it is to the latter that we turn our attention: the preservation of incarnation. There are all sorts of myths and folklores around alchemists and magicians, who have tried to cheat death through potions or golden elixers, or the legendary "Philosopher's Stone," popularized recently in the Harry Potter novels and in Fullmetal Alchemist. We also have vampires and other monstrous entities, which embrace a half-death in exchange for eternal life.

But what if everyone's making it more complicated than need be?

What if the key to "beating death" is simply to tell it to fuck off?

Bear with me here...

Who canonized this guy?!

Most people view death as a pretty brutal, gruesome ordeal. Its manifestation in most media is characterized accordingly. In the old days, we had a black-clad, hooded skeleton wielding a Saturnine scythe. Or sometimes, a grim angel carrying a fiery sword - though this is usually reserved for large-scale, Biblical smiting. In any event, everyone fears a visit from the reaper, as they know it'll be the last person they ever meet.

In the world of Garth Ennis' Preacher, the spectre of death is known as The Saint of Killers, a sallow giant who looks and talks more than a bit like Clint Eastwood's famous "Man With no Name," from the trio of Sergio Leone's Spaghetti Westerns. No scythe or sword for this otherwordly representative - having taken the position from the previous Angel of Death, The Saint had his flaming sword melted down and recrafted into twin six-shooters. When the hammers come down, the sound is enough to drown out thunder, and the rounds are powerful enough to pierce the armor of a tank.

Just like death, The Saint cannot be stopped; any conventional weapons simply brush off his thick hide. At more than one point in the series, an entire army stands between him and the man he is supposed to kill. A little less subtle than the normal Scorpio MO, The Saint merely chooses to plow through everyone in his path, killing all for the sake of eliminating his target. A hydrogen bomb is dropped on him about midway through the series' run - he stands unscathed amid the atomic fire, spits once, and says, "Not enough gun."

The series' protagonist, Jesse Custer, is the man who The Saint is trying to spring from this mortal coil. And he would have succeeded if it weren't for Custer's gift: in the first issue, he is granted the "voice of God," which means that if he speaks, any servant of the Almighty must obey. (Don't ask how he gets these powers. Just do yourself a favor, go support your local comic store by purchasing every single trade paper back in this series. It's fucking brilliant. Don't go to a chain bookstore, either. Be good. Support your local comic shops.)

Anyway, in the first arc of the story, The Saint has been unleashed on a mission to hunt down and kill Jesse Custer. When he finally catches up with him, the tense moment is met with an anti-climactic conclusion. As The Saint goes for his pistol, Jesse merely yells, "Back in the holster, fucker!" The Saint goes wide-eyed at the realization that he must obey. "Oh yeah. You heard." He stares daggers into Custer, tells him he's going to kill him, but ultimately is forced to retreat for the time being.

The Saint comes back eventually, but if Jesse tells him to jump, he simply has to. It's a matter of hierarchy.


A cheerful goth? No one'll believe that.

On the other side of the spectrum, we've got Neil Gaiman's Death, the second eldest of the seven Endless, beings that transcend the gods of the pantheistic traditions, and which have existed for all time. Death is the older sister of Dream, the focus and titular character of The Sandman.

Unlike The Saint, Death doesn't hunt anyone down. She doesn't even carry any sort of a weapon. She is represented as a kind and bright young woman, who greets the souls of the departed to ferry them beyond. She is pale, wears dark clothing, and carries a silver ankh on a chain around her neck. But, for being a personification of death, she is unwontedly full of spirit!

I have read somewhere that the idea behind this character was that you'd likely want someone like her to be waiting for you after the trauma of dying, and to guide you through the transition to whatever's next. I'll buy that, personally. I'd rather have a little sweetheart hold my hand than get skullfucked by...well, a skeleton.

Now, for as lovely a guide as Death is, she is still quite firm when it comes to performance of her duty. Whenever any of her "victims" cry out in protest that they just wanted a little more time, she tells them simply, "You had as much time as anyone else. You got a lifetime."

But in the world of The Sandman, there are three seperate incidents where Death did not ferry her intended guests. Or at least, three occassions where individuals were granted an extended stay.

There is a chapter in "Seasons of Mist" that focuses on a friendship between Edwin, the ghost of an English school boy who was murdered in 1916, and Rowland, a boy attending the same school in 1990. At the same time, Hell is closed for business by Lucifer, who is sick of ruling it. The result is, among other things, a lot of supernatural chaos on earth, including a mass malefic haunting of that very school. In the ensuing chaos, Rowland is killed despite Edwin's best efforts to keep him from harm. Now both boys are ghosts. When Death arrives to ferry them away, Rowland flatly refuses to go. Annoyed by this, she tells them she doesn't have time to deal with them right now, but she'll be back after she rounds up all the refugees from Hell. Thus, the boys cling to existence, non-corporel though it may be. They eventually get their own spin-off series, solving supernatural mysteries as The Dead Boy Detectives.

In this instance, Death is openly defied. The other two occurences involve a bargain. Torn from Greek myth, there is the story of Orpheus, who is Death's niece (Dream's son.) Against his father's wishes, he wishes to journey into Hades to retrieve his lost wife, Eurydice. In order to do so, he visits Death, who tells him that she will be able to grant his request, but that this will make him immortal, as only the ded or deathless can enter Hades. And though tragedy follows, the request is granted, and Orpheus becomes immune to Death for many centuries to come. He is only finally able to fully die when he begs his Endless father to help him do so.

Lastly, we have Hob Gadling. Hob is first seen as soldier of fortune in 1389 A.D., arguing with friends on the subject of death. In summation, his position is that he wants no part of death, and that the only reason anyone ever dies is because everyone else does it. It's a "mug's game," he says, a trendy thing to do. This catches the attention of Death and Dream, who happen to be enjoying a day in the mortal world. While not openly exposing their divinity, Death promises him that if he truly wants to be out of the loop, then that's how it will be. Dream promises to meet him in the same tavern in 100 years' time, and Hob gladly agrees. They continue the tradition of meeting every century, where Dream continues to offer him the prospect of death should he wish it. And though Hob is met with exponentially greater suffering and heartache than most men must endure, simply by the act of continuing to live (thereby outliving all loved ones, for starters,) he never takes the Endless up on their offer to die. He clings to life for as long as he can, no matter how difficult it gets.

The Swedes throw in.

More recently, I had the pleasure of viewing Ingmar Bergman's classic existentialist film, The Seventh Seal. Here, a knight has returned from The Crusades, only to find his home ravaged by plague. He has come from a place of slaughter into a land of pestilence - death has been by his side all along. At the beginning of the film, Death comes to him, pale and cloaked, and tells him it is his time. The knight delays his demise by challenging the spectre to a game of chess, which prolongs his lifespan at least until the conclusion of their match. This game is played throughout the remainder of the film. You have probably seen this parodied in Bill & Ted's Bogus Journey.

The knight desperately tries to fend off death until he can get an answer to his big questions: what lies beyond? Is there really a God? A Heaven? He is unwilling to go until he is sure there will be something waiting for him.

Seeing this film is really what got me thinking about this subject. This is the only example I've given where Death is represented as a being over which a mortal has absolutely no power. Why? Because it was written by existentialists. Existentialists do not recognize anything beyond the experiential, therefore, generally rule out any sort of higher power of any kind. When the knight tries to pump Death for information, asking him to reveal his secrets, Death says, "I have no secrets." Translation? When you die, you go in the ground and rot.

I, for one, am critical of this cynical worldview. Moreover, I find it limiting. Cutting oneself off from the prospect of the divine means cutting oneself off from power. To me, means throwing in the towel and giving up on life. And at the end of this film, that's just what happens. They all just give up and go with death because he says so.


Go away. I'm busy living.

If you're still with me, then thanks for your patience. Here's where my notion comes in, as well as the vague connection to Hermetic tradition.

In any grimoire that I've ever seen, in my very limited understanding of goetic conjuration and angelic magic, the basis of even being able to do such a thing lies in authority. In short, man has authority of both angels and demons. The Bible says so, too. That's why Jesus and his apostles can exorcise demons from the possessed, the reason that Legion was cast into the sea.

In all given examples, death is personified. In Preacher, The Saint of Killers is the new angel of death. Gaiman's Death is portrayed as being above any sort of deity, but there are cited examples wherein she cannot take someone (at least temporarily) because they do not wish to be taken. And though he is more nebulously portrayed in The Seventh Seal, Death can still be delayed upon request - who is to say that the knight couldn't have told him to piss off altogether?

Basically, I propose that we, as human beings, should hold some authority over this force of nature. If death is an angel, we should be able to tell him, "No. Don't feel like dying today." And he should have to listen. That's the way it's laid out.

I'm not saying that it's possible to escape death entirely - someday, after all, the sun will explode and that will be that.

But even when our bodies are no longer suitable to support life, I believe that we still don't have to go if we don't want to. Why else would there be so many ghost stories? I think ghosts are just people that didn't want to go, like the Dead Boy Detectives. They're dead, but clinging to whatever piece of the manifest they can hold onto. Kind of like a vampire. Kind of like a Scorpio.

"If this is all true," you may ask yourself, "then why doesn't everyone deny death?" Well, a lot of people don't think they can. A lot of people just assume it's their time. Or hell, maybe they're right to do so - after all, continuing to live can be a horrible thing. Not to be too unpleasant, but I have seen eldery relatives beg for death. Their bodies are shot, their friends are all dead, and their minds are starting to go. What's more, they may consider themselves a burden on their families. It makes more sense to go hang with the pretty goth girl than to mope around this dump and suffer more.

All I'm saying is that if you don't want your ticket punched, and you're truly down for more life, then by all accounts, and for as near as I can figure, you should be able to tell Death to come back and ask you again in 100 years time.

That's my notion. It makes sense to me, even if I don't have the magical language to back it.

It's a mug's game, man.

SCORPLOITATION CINEMA

Nerdcore Astrotypes:

Scorploitation Cinema – Female Prisoner 701: Scorpion

Our culture is saturated with stories of Mars archetypes. Mars is, of course, the planet of war, and his influence is seen in all stories of great heroism and courage. These are often made manifest by Mars' fiery side, Aries, in stories where a young man seeks to prove himself, gain power, save the day, and get the girl.

But there's another side to Mars. Mars is not only the ruling planet of proud Aries, but of under-handed, intense, mysterious Scorpio. And while the Scorpio archetype may not seem as overtly valorous as the Aries stories, their tales always involve a figure who is willing to endure great hardships for what they perceive to be a noble goal. And since Scorpio is a water sign, one intimately tied to emotion, that goal may involve the destruction of those that have caused the Scorpio pain.

Sasori Onna

1972 saw the birth of a Japanese cult classic, Joshuu 701-Gou: Sasori.

Literal translation? Female Prisoner 701: Scorpion. And it's not just a clever title; this is a straight-up Scorpio story of love, sex, betrayal, and death. It's also a women-in-prison flick, and that's pretty hot in a trashy way. Trashy-hot is another great staple of the Scorpio archetype.

Following a failed prison break, our protagonist, the lovely Nami Matsushima (played by Meiko Kaji, and known among the other prisoners only as "Matsu,") lies face-down and hog-tied in solitary confinement. The prisoner who is assigned to issue her daily meals happens to be an enemy of hers, and is using her influence to kick Matsu while she's down. She taunts her, beats her, encourages her to eat the food off the floor like the dog that she is. All the while, Matsu remains silent and solemn, an icy glare as her only response.

The woman says that she thinks Matsu "must be very cold" from having to lie on the floor all day. She covers her in a wet, freezing blanket. This finally gets a reaction out of Matsu: a knowing smile. A smile that knows it will have its revenge.

Sure enough, the next time the woman comes to torture her, things go down quite differently. The woman begins "feeding" Matsu, pouring scalding-hot Miso soup on her back, ladling it on in measured, sadistic spoonfuls. Matsu doesn't let even a whimper escape her lips, but endures the pain until her tormentor is standing directly on the very same wet blanket, which has been covering her since the previous day. When the time is right, she jerks her body, and shifts the blanket out from under the woman's feet. This sends her reeling backwards to the floor, the boiling pot of Miso spilling all over her face and torso.

Cancer, which is Cardinal Water, sticks very close to the emotional source. Like the crab of its namesake, it lives right by the water. It protects what it loves by building up defenses, and by obscuring it from view. But scorpions don't live anywhere near the water. They live in the desert, where survival is much more difficult. Scorpio, then, is carrying the same water - the same devotion to a love - through a harsh, unforgiving terrain. And living in that world means protecting the water by any means.

A scorpion will hide, lying in wait for just the right time to poison its prey. Stealth and poison are contrary to what most perceive as honorable combat. But if the scorpion doesn't resort to these methods, it will die. Likewise, if Matsu hadn't taken her one chance to lash out, she might have been tortured to death. And whether she has to endure a burn, a kick, a scratch, a bite, or merely the monotony of a long-term prison sentence, Matsu will wait for the perfect time to carry out her work.

It is worth noting at this point that the word "matsu" can literally mean "to wait." While we're at it, it is worth noting that "Nami," her given name, can mean "wave." "Waiting Wave," eh? Sounds kind of like Fixed Water to me.

Virtue Behind the Venom

From here, we get some flashback exposition: Matsu is in prison for attempted murder. The man she tried to murder was her lover, the villainous police detective Sugimi. Having seduced Matsu, he used her as bait in a sting operation, letting her walk into a yakuza stronghold all alone, where she was raped and almost killed. Waiting for the gangsters to be occupied with Matsu, Sugimi then burst in and arrested them, adding rape to a charge of racketeering.

Unlucky/in love.

Of course, some of the yakuza's dirty money gets "lost" on the way to evidence. When Sugimi offers Matsu a fraction of the money as a reward for her role in the sting, she turns on him, and attempts to stab him on the street. This lands her in jail, where she vows to escape and take her revenge.

Scorpio represents water in its fixed state. It is goal-oriented emotional intelligence which that do whatever it must to get from Point A to Point B. Like a river, it will curve and wind around any obstacle, usually ignoring the direct approach in favor of subtlety. And although Matsu's infamy grows among the prisoners and the guards, no one can be sure that she has done anything at all. After all, how does a woman who has had all of her limbs bound manage to burn an inmate with Miso soup? More incidents follow, until her name is one that cannot be uttered without conveying the severity that her actions imply.

Like the scorpion of her namesake, everyone stays away from Matsu (except for her Piscean friend, Yuki, whose hazy identity is supplemented by her devoted compassion.) Also like the scorpion, everyone wants to crush her. This is the effect of terror, one of Scorpio's favorite weapons.

The other inmates not only fear her, they also hate her for evading retribution, and look for any chance to take her down a peg. The warden knows she has some connection to an incident which has caused him to be disfigured, and vows to break her. And Sugimi, fearing her eventual wrath, has commissioned an assassin within the prison walls to ensure that Matsu has an "accident" of her own.

Parasite Porno

In an effort to find out Matsu's true involvement in the various acts of havoc around the prison, the warden throws her into solitary confinement once again. But when Matsu looks around the cell, she finds that she is not alone - another inmate sits at the other side of the room. Although it remains unrevealed at this time, the woman is actually an undercover police operative who has been sent to pump her for information.

The pretty young officer, under the guise of being a fellow inmate, attempts to question Matsu on the nature of her infamy and involvement in the recent unrest. Matsu sees through her ruse easily, coolly stating, "You talk too much." That's when the fan service begins.

Good, that's good. Now smell her a little.

Matsu begins to tenderly, but relentlessly, seduce the young woman. Even when the woman pushes her away, telling her to stop, Matsu continues to caress and undress her. Soon, the woman's pleas fade, replaced by moans of pleasure. Hot, right?

Sort of. But what follows isn't really the saxophone-and-light-jazz sort of lesbian scene we've come to expect from women in prison flicks. It looks more like something you'd see on the highlights from The Discovery Channel - Matsu isn't just sexing this girl up, she's consuming her.

Venus, the planet of love, is not very happy in Scorpio, where it is in one of its two detrimental positions. It doesn't understand Venusian subtlety. So when a Scorpio makes love, it can look like an act of consumption in the wild. Which, if you're into that, is pretty cool. And since Scorpio is ruled by Mars, it is no surprise that Matsu is less interested in gettin' her fingers into this chick's honeypot, and more interested in the inherent tactical advantages.

When the young officer reports back to the warden, she comes empty-handed, having obtained no useful information. He thanks her for her bravery and service, and tells her she is dismissed. But she protests, begging hysterically to be put back into prison, claiming that Matsu is close to cracking. Seeing things for what they are, the warden rips her shirt open, revealing a shotgun pattern of hickeys and bite marks. As she is dragged from the room, the young woman still begs to be put back into confinement with Matsu.

Hot Scorpio Lovin'.

Scorpio is associated with vampirism. Since Scorpio is a creature which is associated with the fixed exchange of energy, Scorpio sexuality may manifest in the form of tantric love. Here, the two partners give and take equally, truly sharing of each other's essence. Not so with the vampyiric Scorpio. They take everything, give nothing, sustaining themselves on their partner's energy while alternately putting them under a mysterious, sexy spell. In this scenario, Matsu has used her sexuality as a weapon, and the young police officer has fully succumbed to her influence. Tricked, trapped, hypnotized, and disgraced - this is just another way that the scorpion can sting.

La Mort dans La Maison de Dieu

Most everyone in the prison has grown to hate and resent Matsu for her actions. Sensing this, the warden constructs a crude plan to destroy her.

He has all the women led out to the yard, surrounded by armed guards, and instructs them to start digging. When they have dug to his satisfaction, he tells them to refill the holes. When the holes are filled, he has them dig again. And so on.

He says that this will continue until those responsible for his disfigurement come forward to accept punishment. No one does. When the group is told to stop and come inside for the night, Matsu is told that she must stay and continue alone. The other inmates refer to this as "The Devil's Punishment."

Eventually, the plan backfires: while women are fed up with taking abuse for Matsu's sake, they end up taking it out on the guards in a fit of rebellion. They rise up with their shovels, get ahold of a few guns, and capture a handful of guards, holing up in a nearby warehouse.

Mars is represented in the Tarot as The Tower, or The House of God. The card depicts a great fortification being shattered by a bolt of lightning, one that bears a striking resemblance to the tail on the Scorpio sigil. It signifies institutions - like this prison - whose use has been outlived or surpassed by the egos of those in charge. In other words, the institution is supposed to exist to serve the greater good, but the heads of the institution believe that they themselves are the greater good. And so, it must be destroyed so that the divinity it houses may be reallocated to a more appropriate place. Obviously, you don't want to be in the tower when this happens. Matsu, like that lightning bolt, has sent an ineffective institution crashing down, just by the nature of her existence.

Militant/feminine.

The uprising is eventually brought down, but not before many are killed – both inmates and guards. Among them is Yuki, Matsu's only friend, who fulfills her Pisces-as-martyr role by jumping in front of a series of bullets that are meant for Matsu. The one behind the trigger is the inmate who has been tapped by Sugimi to assassinate our Scorpionic protagonist. Needless to say, she is dealt with severely, and Matsu takes advantage of the abounding confusion to escape.

Death Wears a Pretty Hat

Scorpio is represented in the Tarot as Death. The card portrays a skeletal rider, clad in black armor, riding a pale horse, destroying all living things in its path. Kneeling before its grim countenance are a pleading holy man, a woman who has resigned herself to fate, and a child who stares on in wonder. Rich or poor, young or old, saint or sinner, no one escapes. The rider's forward march is absolute and unrelenting.

This is the very image that Matsu conjures as she stalks through the night-time streets of Tokyo, finally free. Clad fully and elegantly in black, only a glimpse of her pale face escapes from the wide brim of her hat. Apparently, Sugimi has enjoyed a number of business partnerships with the dirty money he has stolen. She tracks down each and everyone one of his partners, stealthily knifing them in crowded public settings. Before they can even cry out, before they finger her for their murder with a dying breath, it is too late; she has disappeared.

Why knives? Because a knife doesn't make any noise. A knife can be easily concealed. I've never been stabbed or shot, but it seems to me that the former would be more psychologically damaging, and that's how Scorpio likes it. A gun is Sagittarian; it can kill from across the room or from a hundred yards away. You have to be up close with a blade – it's a personal violation, and a parallel to the sharpened tail of the scorpion.

In the film's climax, Matsu has cornered Sugimi in an elevator, but hesitates in completing her vengeance. Perhaps she still has some feelings for him, or perhaps she falters because killing him is the only thing she has lived for. In any case, her hesitation costs her the element of surprise, which is key to the Scorpio's attack. A brief struggle and a roof-top chase ensue. Here, in the daylight, Matsu's black garb seems to stand out more – she is less threatening, more desperate. Like any dark mystery, she loses power when exposed. But not all of it.

This is why Batman sticks to dark alleys.

Scorpio won't just give up because its master plan has failed. It is a war sign, after all. When all of its tricks, poisons, and subterfuge have been stripped away, it'll just come at you. And that's what happens here, as Matsu rushes Sugimi, impaling him on the end of her blade. She stabs at him furiously until she is sure that he's dead.

The final reel of the film shows Matsu back in prison for murder, looking very pleased with herself.

A happy ending.

The theme song to this film is "Urami Bushi," loosely translated as "Revenge Blues." It was borrowed by Tarantino (who clearly drew inspiration from films like this) as a capper to his revenge epic "Kill Bill." A selected lyric...

"I cannot die before I fulfill my fate,
And so I live on, driven only by my hate,
A woman's life is a song,
A song of vengeance."

Boys, watch out for those Scorpio girls.

While we're at it...girls, you watch out for those Scorpio girls, too.

The trailer.

WARNING: boobies, butts, hyperviolence, lesbianism. You know, all the good stuff. ALSO WARNING: Trailer gives everything away. But if you've gotten this far, then it's already been spoiled, so you might as well..

Copyright Nerdcore Astrotypes, 2007