angstoic.com Astrologer, Ang Stoic
On 21 September 2025, a deep partial solar eclipse at 29° Virgo sweeps across New Zealand, eastern Australia, the Pacific Islands, and parts of Antarctica. With a magnitude of 0.855, the Moon will obscure nearly 80% of the Sun’s disk, a rare spectacle visible to fewer than one per cent of humanity.
Greetings, fellow travellers,
Please, for the sake of brevity, allow me to keep this update as brief as I can.
Two weeks on from the Pisces blood moon, and the lights are still dim. Things went dark there, and just as everything was already looking grim, it conjured a gruesome moment when, for at least a little moment, most of us felt the ghastly force of sudden death.
If anything, the shadow has darkened during this mid-eclipse period—no longer a vague encroachment but a deliberate pall seems cast over the visible world. But as they say, it’s always darkest just before the dawn.
With Pluto now out of bounds, skullduggery abounds; the unspeakable is spoken aloud, and atrocious designs are enacted brazenly, without pretence or disguise—as if crudity and cruelty had become the lingua franca of power. Despite growing international outcry, Gaza still burns with genocidal fury; starvation has the cold, bureaucratic ring of official policy; and with Pluto in Aquarius, the same dead script is read in a cooler, more technocratic voice. Rumours of discord now drift even to the cheap seats—that Israel’s long dark hand may have grazed the Kirk assassination. True or not, the timing has gouged a moral crater throughout much of the Western world.
Whatever one thought of his politics, the 31-year-old became an accelerant for many young, conservative‑leaning minds. His funeral/memorial falls precisely under this eclipse: a polarising figure, yes, but one who had begun to draw a new cohort of the young toward a different line of thinking—one that now questions the barbarity in Gaza and begins to break ranks with their hawkish party elders. His martyrdom is symbolic, and occurring at the peak of these Pisces–Virgo eclipses, it brutally exposes the deeper faultline: not just over territory or ideology, but over the right to speak, dissent, and disseminate uncensored truths—on both sides of the political argument. The right to free speech, to bring it to civilised debate, was the very premise of the American dream of a new democracy, remember?
And yet, something else stirs, deep in the reptilian swamplands of human consciousness. This partial solar eclipse falls less than a degree from the Libra equinox, the very hinge of the Sun’s evolutionary arc—a point where darkness and light meet in equal measure. Much as we may want to avoid the self-effacement, with all outer planets in retrograde, the descent begins toward interiority, reflection, and a kind of reckoning which smacks of finality. Even as the light is partially occluded, the Sun makes a monumental turn to restore balance. It shifts its intent.
New Moons, Eclipses and The Anaretic
New moons, they say, are about beginnings. Though if we’re being honest—and Virgo insists we must—there’s something a bit fatuous about crowning this one as the birth of anything fresh. This is a South Node solar eclipse at 29° Virgo, opposing Saturn Rx at 29° Pisces—a double-anaretic. Which means the New Moon reset button, should you be brave enough to press it under an eclipse, comes pre-wired with a fundamental fault. Virgo, for all its gifts of finesse and function, at the South Node also signifies ruthless control, controlled operatives, and extremely tidy surgical-level executions. Yet even these don’t escape the harsh, psychic scrutiny of Saturn in opposition. The lord of consequence, retrograding back into Pisces, drags back the unpaid bills and unfinished lessons of the last two years. We can almost smell the rot wicking up through the floorboards.
For us, it hits deeply at something personal, especially for those affected by these 15º and 29º mutable eclipses. It involves confronting the real consequences of unpaid karmic debts, deferred grief, or the illusions we held onto while pretending we still had control. Because we had a job. Because we had a role that fit us. The tools may still be in the drawer, but they no longer suit the job. Don’t expect new beginnings here—this isn’t that kind of a lunation. It’s a shutdown notice disguised as a reset.
And if you were hoping to dodge the callout with grace, Mars at 29° Libra has some bad news. Mars has a natural aversion to being polite. As he forms a sharp inconjunct to Saturn, the performance of civility begins to twitch. Peacable appearances start to curdle and knot. Amicable veneers begin to crack. All shaky agreements, once propped up with niceties and handshakes, now collapse under the weight of unspoken rage. We’ve long crossed the Rubicon, and we’re edging closer to where all diplomacy begins to decompose and stink.
Mars’s recent opposition to Chiron–Eris in Aries (Sep 9-11) has already torn open the wound: betrayed masculinity, suppressed rage, and hidden injustice for too long. And now, under this eclipse, the gathering is over. Some may still be passing around hors d’oeuvres, but others are flipping the table and demanding answers. As soon as Mars enters Scorpio, it will immediately square Pluto, where denial ends and the knives come out. Any contract you didn’t read properly is now about to be enforced—with interest. The quincunxes to Saturn/Neptune and Uranus follow: a series of awkward, unstable recalibrations. You know what needs to be done, but the instructions are in a language so abstract and surreal that you can only interpret them to suit yourself. Which could run counter to how all your opponents might want to translate them.
Meanwhile, Venus, fresh into Virgo, gets squared by Uranus—beauty glitches, values veer sideways, charm short-circuits. What once held allure now smells of complicity. Her inconjunct to Pluto says: stop adorning rot—stop making excuses out of sheer convenience. If your selfish tastes still defend a lie, it’s time to start over with the decor.
Above it all, the Grand Kite—the Virgo eclipse at the tail – Saturn/Neptune at its head: despair and delusion braided together like an old hymn. Uranus and Pluto on the wings, forming a trine so quietly radical it almost slips under the radar. But you can’t miss it: the winds are shifting. The invisible weight of this formation drops right where it hurts—striking the heart of all our routines, our ethics and moral codes, our methods. Not our dreams. Our methods.
With a yod forming to Mars from Uranus and Neptune. The “finger of god” points to the one planet still capable of moving the story forward. Except in Scorpio, Mars is not necessarily heroic in his actions. He’s vengefully mean, agonizingly moody, made ever so erratic by the yod, volatile, and uncontrollable by any mortal means. Under any sign of betrayal, his exhausted stamina and illness from a history of half-spoken truths, we might see snap judgments launching us into vitriolic hatred and uncivilised behaviour. Only the highest of faiths can ordain this to a much better place.
What the…?
With the extermination logic now gone procedural, remorse and rhetoric have been cut from the script; attrition threatens to proceed like balancing a checklist. The Zionist state apparatus—long braided into Western foreign policy—leans hard on the fifth stage of grief: universal acceptance. The holy sacrament is up for sale. Dissent and dissidence are carefully managed through throttled feeds, terrified CEOs, and co-opted presidents. Speech becomes increasingly sequestered by an all-encompassing algorithm. And yet—something more spiritual is stirring. A flicker of resistance. A refusal.
Because the same eclipse that exposes the method also alters the light itself—bends perception, sharpens shadows—we now see it clearly: some drop into despair, stunned silent by the scale of the thing; others, jolted awake, get fiercer. They will increasingly refuse the role assigned to them and stop singing from the old hymn book. Whether graceful or chaotic, strategic or wild, the counter-movement begins here. By no means organised or pure. But unmistakably real.
Whether this turns inward—into civil unrest—or outward, as a grassroots revolution against whatever force is currently dressing up tyranny as progress, whatever survives this eclipse will not be perfect in any sense. We’ve passed the tipping point. What survives this eclipse won’t be perfect. It will be whatever holds under chaos, pressure, and the grinding noise of collapsing illusions.
And no, you won’t persuade anyone with another meme, or by shouting someone else’s slogan into the algorithm. You’ll show them by what you do, what you refuse, what you protect—or you won’t.
And that, Virgo says, will be enough.
Your Special Eclipse message brings all of this (and more) together in the most personal way; not as a horoscope in the usual sense, but as a mirror held to the part of you that’s still deciding—what to hold, what to release, what to risk. Part predictive, part diagnostic, it highlights all the pressure points, and what part of you is being tested not for mere promises, but for proof of outcome. Members: click your sign (both Sun and Rising) below to log in and read your empowering message for this lunation.
ARIES: Virgo Solar Eclipse Reading
TAURUS: Virgo Solar Eclipse Reading
GEMINI: Virgo Solar Eclipse Reading
CANCER: Virgo Solar Eclipse Reading
LEO: Virgo Solar Eclipse Reading
VIRGO: Virgo Solar Eclipse Reading
LIBRA: Virgo Solar Eclipse Reading
SCORPIO: Virgo Solar Eclipse Reading
SAGITTARIUS: Virgo Solar Eclipse Reading
CAPRICORN: Virgo Solar Eclipse Reading
AQUARIUS: Virgo Solar Eclipse Reading
PISCES: Virgo Solar Eclipse Reading
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