angstoic.com Astrologer, Ang Stoic
One of the cruellest signs that we may indeed be approaching end-times is how effortlessly the most archaic stratum of the nervous system commandeers the room: under Pluto out-of-bounds, and in the tremor between these eclipses when even light feels provisional, the cold reflex to dominate, to sneer, to dehumanise spreads like a spark racing through tinder, and we watch—almost numbly—as public killings are followed not by collective mourning, somber argument, or righteous protest, but by a grotesque cabaret of cheers, memes, and score-keeping, as if the erasure of a human life were nothing more than another tally in a never-ending league table of rage.
What monsters we're becoming.
It feels so eerily ominous not because darkness has shrouded this entire planet—darkness is perennial—but because here, between eclipses, so many of us have abandoned the softer side of our nature, that warm mammalian affinity for personal contact and civilised debate, the kind that keeps communities knit together when fear and terror rises; and in its place we see a regression to the stark binary function of our ancestral repitilian instincts, the voracious appetite for humiliation and the fetish to impose brute force, all of it powered and amplified by machines that know how to mine, manipulate and monetise the worst aspects of our biochemistry.
And yet, for years another faculty has been available to us, already seeded within: a higher, light-seeking intelligence that extends its branches through the unseen ethers rather than sinking teeth into flesh and bone, that transforms attention into comprehension as a flower converts sunlight into sugar; slower than outrage, quieter than vengeance, it remains the only tool we possess capable of metabolising catastrophe into wisdom rather than into further ruin.
This is the faculty that sees others as neighbours rather than enemies; that can hold healthy boundaries without lapsing into fantasies of being 'threatened' and plotting annihilation; that insists that ideas are tested by speech and evidence, not by quarrels, fists or bullets, because violence is never the solution to anything, but an abdication of thinking.
Is that what’s happening here? Are we being robbed of the very capacity to think, our higher intelligence stripped away by the siloed hive-mind and its artificial surrogate?
What makes this moment so dangerous is the convergence: a sky signalling thresholds and endings, even as the mind-attention economy trains us to mistake political caricatures and cultural stereotypes for citizens, to confuse the loudest and most inflammatory one per cent for the body of a nation, and to swallow the narcotic of permanent grievance until the word ‘we’ itself becomes unusable.
The evolutionary task before us, if we are honest, is brutal in its simplicity: to reject the programming that insists we can only feel ‘safe’ if a constant victim is sacrificed; to recover the mammalian arts of listening and civilised debate; and then, deliberately, to stretch upward into that higher intelligence capable of transmuting heat into light—so that grief is not reduced to clickbait, and our differences not weaponised into blood and endless wars. I know this may go over some heads, but I am not speaking to them.
Here below (for tribe members) we open this discussion further in out latest Cosmic Bus episode (live on 14th September) as we examine the astrology of this mid-eclipse interval and assess why Pluto’s out-of-bounds spell—as well as other cosmic phenomena make this moment feels so perilous, where the real exits lie, and how you can keep your humanity when the room is baying for more bloody spectacle.
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