The Outer Planets are Your Frenemies at Best

I’m so incredibly sick of sanctimonious (aka well placed Jupiter people) who come in and serenely tell you – every bad transit is a learning opportunity. Those people are the worrrrrrrst. 

“Oh really Brad, this concurrent onslaught of Pluto square natal Pluto/Sun cazimi in Scorpio from Aquarius via the 7/4 axis that also involves the first house because Leo Rising, while also having Uranus square my Natal Nodes, while also having that A-hole Neptune square himself from the 8th house to the 5th is a learning opportunity? You know what you can go learn to do my dude? F*ck yourself!”

Those people inevitably are the ones who will talk at you if you ask a simple astrology question while concurrently giving you a word salad answer that is inexplicably too vague yet too in the weeds at the same time. Then they act as if they just gave you secrets to the universe, and you should build a little altar to them, and worship at it forever. Yes. I will obviously get right on that, as soon as I’m done sticking this hot needle through my eye. 

This is because if you’ve never been in an astrological s-t storm without relief from any operative planet, you don’t really know what it feels like to sit in the filth of your own primordial fate and wait for the ass kicking to end. Like, OK, there are learning opportunities if the worst thing you’ve ever experienced is just a normal Wednesday for a cursed person. That’s because the benefics are essentially cats who will only operate under the strictest of circumstances, and just like cats, they don’t like everyone. Sure, some could argue that, in and of itself is the lesson you learn– but guess what? It’s been learnt. REPEATEDLY. And yet? Here I am, getting my head kicked in by fate once more. Cool. You know who doesn't do that? MY CAT!

Anyway, so far this is just a rant to get those people worked up (if they’re even reading this) because it’s fun, and also, to reinforce to anyone still here who has a sneaking suspicion that emotional abuse from life doesn’t actually have a point. It doesn’t. S-t happens. Bad people get good stuff, good people get run over by a pack of wild oxen while coming home after saving a burning orphanage.

Today’s fighter? The raggedy outer planets. 

First and foremost I do not align, or agree, with love and light astrologers. If you do, great! Now go away. Sell a supplement somewhere else on the internet, please and thank you. 

I got into Astrology because all of those good transits/periods/whatever never actually turned into anything other than more of the same Lucy-taking-away-the-football moments for me. I’m a millennial white lady, so obviously Astrology not being real was never an option to explore, so I looked into reasons as to why the good stuff was never that good.

This is where Traditional Astrology comes in.

Traditional knows that some people are just a little (or a lot) cursed in life. That your opportunity window (if it ever happens) is measured by the minute instead of by the decade, and while that may not be fair, guess what buttercup? It’s the hand you were dealt, so what are you going to do about it?

Traditional Astrology: A Crash Course on the Curse

If you are unfamiliar with Traditional over Modern as a practice, here are the basics: 

– It uses Whole Sign. I will address why I begrudgingly, and now wholeheartedly, embrace this house system over Placidus, maybe one day, maybe never. 

–It doesn’t utilize outer planets (because 2,000 years ago we didn’t know those existed) so none of these d-heads rule anything but their own egos.

–The temperament of the planets, and their signs, is very important. Everything is either hot, dry, cold, or wet. This matters for those outer planets. 

–Planets are either inherently good (benefic) or nasty (malefic) both of which can be mitigated by everything else going on in the chart. 

There’s more, but whatever. This is enough to kick off why Neptune is a freeloading jackass, Pluto is an annoying goth kid with a trust fund, and Uranus is a contrarian try hard (but truth be told, I do kind of like him, even if he sucks.)

This is not meant to be a comprehensive take down of any of them, but believe me that’s coming. Just a starter pack to explain the basics, and understand their different flavors of “really, dude?” in one place to compare, and contrast, why they are, at best, a frenemy to humanity. 

Now, a lot of work has gone into making you think these planets have something to offer you. Or teach you. Or illuminate for you. Uranus and Pluto have been delegated The Fool and Judgment in the Tarot deck, which in most cases, are not bad cards to show up. (Neptune, my eternal nemesis has been designated the Hanged Man, which suits that useless POS just fine. Oh–the message is do nothing, and let information come to you, and is based on a legend of a dude who had a bird peck his eye out? And you think this passes as wisdom and NOT a horrifying cautionary tale? Got it. Cool.) 

Do not be fooled. 

Pluto: We get it. You Corrupt. BUT THAT'S ALL YOU DO.

Pluto is a rapist in mythology. He kidnapped (in collusion with Jupiter no less) Persephone and skittered off to the underworld because he was an OG incel, and it took my girl Hekate – the only one who would listen to her a mother's pleas (Ceres) – to bother to go find this poor girl. And because life is terminally unfair to women Persephone had either been raped (or perhaps willingly had sex with Pluto because I bet that neck beard hot pocking loving s–t didn’t have books or any other forms of entertainment available for her) she was cursed (because MEN !) to have to spend 6 months a year in that bachelor pad – as if one mediocre penis could ever change anything for a woman but her own level of tolerance towards the opposite sex. But I digress. 

I tell this story because what Pluto does in a sign is corrupt. Period. My theory is that he f-ks up the ruler of the sign and makes it operate in weird, distorted ways outside of how it should.

Take my own much maligned Scorpio in Pluto generation – ruled by Mars, with his energy focused inward. In theory we should be intensely driven, able to come back (and keep going) from constant setbacks, and eventually elevate ourselves because the whole point of Scorpio's constant regeneration is growth– the highest form of Scorpio. Yet the eldest amongst us are 45, and what do we have to show for it except for poorly aging mustache tattoos on our fingers, and a failing hope that one day, maybe, the Boomers will finally relinquish power and let us try to salvage our climate. We’re ruled by Mars, baby! The planet of piss, vinegar, and taking what he thinks is his. Why the hell aren’t we doing that? 

Pluto is a corrupting f–ker that’s why.  He’s pretty happy in Scorpio, because Scorpio is the most cursed of the signs. That’s not Scorps slander, that’s science! (The reason being: if the Moon is in fall there, then no one can be happy. Except Mars because that’s his home. Even Mars isn’t really happy there because he has no one to fight except himself.) Inexplicably, he’s able to corrupt every sign. Every f-ing one. Even Saturn is like “yes m’lord, why don’t you smear s–t all over my walls? Masterful idea.” Imagine if no one ever tells you no, you’re an honored guest in every home you crash in, and you’re allowed to just f–k the place up. I suspect this is why he spends the least amount of time in Scorpio–Mars kind of likes that level of violence, even in his own home, and like any kind of performative, destructive d–k head, if you don’t give them the reaction they’re looking for, they move on to a better target. 

Do good things come from Pluto transits? Maybe? I don’t know. Of the three outer planets, he’s the least useful but the most consistent–you can predict what he’s going to do, so there’s no point getting upset over it. 

I guess if you’re looking for anything from Pluto it’s “I’ll give you something to cry about energy” as in– when he finally lets off you, you know what relief his absence feels like. Real peach that one. 

Neptune: A Big Ol' Clog in the Pipes of a Sign

I could scream into the void about Pluto for a long time, but I think he would get off on that so let’s move on to Neptune. I probably hate Neptune even more. 

If Pluto inexplicably is allowed to f–k up a sign by every ruler; think of Neptune as a house guest who just shows up one day, refuses to say when he plans to leave, and once pressed, claims squatters rights and changes the wifi code. If you’re thinking to yourself “and Mars tolerates this?” the answer is lol, no. Neptune is only allowed to pull his peak bullsh–t in some of the signs, not others. Jupiter inward is Pisces. That’s peak f–k  around territory for Neptune, as he’s already so diffused (all freeloading mooches are, but also, mythologically he’s the god of oceans, arguably the most diffused water can get) and Pisces is basically just mist. Too much damp– no way to dry out.

If you carry this analogy further, and as much as I want to give this opaque f–ker any kudos, most freeloaders in life aren’t completely irredeemable. I have a brother, who for a time, would simply show up one day and live on your couch indefinitely. You’d ask him to leave and he would laugh at you. Would stay for months until it was time to move on to the next mark. But you know what? He’s pretty funny, and is inexplicably good at fixing things. That’s Neptune– he does have his uses– you can correlate his transits to cultural shifts in music in particular.

Why? In astrology water is emotion, and if you’re throwing an ocean’s worth of emotion on any sign, a song simply must come out. A broadway musical taught me that. Don’t ask me which one. …All of them, ok?

Music can get weird in a good way when he’s not allowed to be at his full “Can I borrow $50 and also your wife” energy. I believe it’s because collectively we don’t get so waterlogged, and are able to tap into what limited interesting things he has to offer (while he’s doing his best to drown us however he can.)

He goes hogwild when he gets to a place where he’s unrestrained – “can’t hold me back now!” kind of thing– and that’s why the last 12-ish years of music has sounded like everyone was half-asleep on Xanax. The worst of the worst thrived because you know who does well when you can’t see a foot in front of you in Neptune’s thick fog? Bad people! Existing in Pisces’ liminal dreamscape for THAT long is exhausting. So now he’s in Aries, and I expect rock music to come back. But since this timeline is cursed, we’ll probably get a nu-metal Limp Bizkit resurgence. 

Remember– the outer planets don’t cleanly deliver for you, unless you are a terrible person.

Uranus: A Rebel With Literally No Cause. Not a One

Which leaves us with Uranus, who I kind of like. He’s the most self-aware asshole out of the three because he just wants to do the opposite of what the sign’s about. Compulsively. You can set your watch to it. Taurus is about stability, harmony, beauty, building things to last, so he’s going to take a wrecking ball to s–t that people thought would endure forever. He got into the sign for good in the spring of 2019, and almost immediately the Notre Dame Cathedral burned down. Shuri Castle in Japan also burned that year. I'm sure more iconic representations of societies burned, because Uranus loves to burn things down. Sick little pyro. 

He got his name because the guy who discovered him wanted to name him “Georgian” after the King of England at the time and everyone hated it. Refused to call the newly discovered planet that. Since Uranus is father of Saturn, mythologically speaking of course, it was chosen–very Uranian if you think about. Someone tried to name him after the monarchy– established structure--he flipped a table, and voila! Uranus! (This is also why he’s given modern rulership of Aquarius–one of Saturn’s dominions–but I think he’s spiritually the deviant older brother of Mercury, who is already a pervert. I love Mercury. We’ll save that for another time.)  

He also stays the least amount of time in any sign because he knows the tolerance for his brand of contrarian BS is limited. Uranus likes to f–k with you and then move on. He’d rather see how you react in every sign than sit and torture you in one. So chances are, if you don’t drink bleach or play with fire knives (something Uranus would definitely encourage and maybe offer you protection from, at first, until he decided to see what would happen when protection was revoked) you’re going to experience his glory in every sign. Yay! 

What benefits, if any, are there to Uranus transits? It depends on your tolerance for weird and how much he’s allowed to run amok. Venus had no control over him in Taurus so I personally didn’t find him that enjoyable there. I think Mercury is going to get off on him being in Gemini, so buckle up – two sickos at the wheel! I did not mind him in Pisces, though. He electrified that mist a little. Pissed off Jupiter and woke him up. I don’t think that’s a bad thing. 

Ok, So What Does This Mean?

The thing about all three of these turds are that they are generational – having a Uranus in Sag is not some special little marking for my chart. It’s something everyone born from approximately 81 - 88 has. So broadly outlining why these three jagoffs aren't wise old owls, but really, mosquitos in our bedroom is only the start of a journey. They each have their role to play in this grand parade, and while they are, in isolation, downers, like anything in a chart, they can be mitigated. (My natal Uranus placements is one of my favorites. That's because every other personal planet in my chart is basically working in tandem and threw a net over him, and metaphorically pinned him down. How you like THEM apples, Uranus?)

Just don’t let someone tell you when those planets are pinning you down and spitting in your mouth that it’s a nice little opportunity for your personal growth.

(It’s not. I think it's OK to kick them in the shins when that happens. Tell them it's the manifestation of Uranus and their lesson.)

That doesn't mean you should let these little sadistic overlords run your life, either. They do not deserve that kind of power. 

Remember– they are named after the old Gods, and those Gods can be taken out.