{"id":448,"date":"2015-01-21T13:37:21","date_gmt":"2015-01-21T18:37:21","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/planetwaves.net\/cosmophilia\/?page_id=448"},"modified":"2015-12-22T15:52:14","modified_gmt":"2015-12-22T20:52:14","slug":"madame-zolongas-guide-to-cosmophobia","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/planetwaves.net\/cosmophilia\/featured-articles-2015\/madame-zolongas-guide-to-cosmophobia","title":{"rendered":"Madame Zolonga’s Guide to Cosmophobia"},"content":{"rendered":"

By Madame Zolonga<\/strong><\/p>\n

Well-meaning relatives like to give new parents little books for the baby with titles like On The Day You Were Born<\/em>. You probably have one on your shelf right now.<\/p>\n

The title would be more honest if it said The Day You Arrived<\/em> because it\u2019s clear you don\u2019t come from Earth at all. Yes, it\u2019s true. You don\u2019t belong here at all. And astrology\u2019s here to prove why. Behold, the origins of your alienation revealed!<\/p>\n

Aries:<\/strong> It\u2019s like that scene from Blazing Saddles<\/em>, when the sheriff comes riding into town: there you are on your dandy Appaloosa with your spiffy, new badge, all ready to rope up the bad guys and give your life for the damsels and the demoiselles — but the damned welcoming committee can\u2019t even pronounce your name! Whether your skin is tan, brown or pink, it\u2019s no different. You\u2019re always the stranger in town. Not from around these parts, anyway. It doesn\u2019t help that you secretly always feel like this is your first rodeo and that your brain runs with its engine in the back-end, like a Volkswagen. For you, every day is another \u2018birth day\u2019 — it\u2019s fight or flight into the bright, white light.<\/p>\n

Taurus:<\/strong> You can\u2019t have it. Whatever it is, it\u2019s not yours. This feeling started early. You weren\u2019t breastfed. Or if you were, and your mother (goddess bless her) tried her best to be a 24-hour milk diner, even the Ephesian Artemis couldn\u2019t match your appetite for more. You still can\u2019t figure out how, on a planet so prodigiously abundant, you landed on a continent called Want. Too often you feel like Adam without a Garden of Eden. You\u2019ve got a hunch it\u2019s because, back home, your Daddy burned it down. Rebuilding your garden, then, is your life\u2019s work. But here be talking snakes. When you master THAT language, you\u2019re back in business, babe.<\/p>\n

Gemini:<\/strong> You ARE the information superhighway. If only you could get the rest of the world on board, they\u2019d never need the Internet again. The reason you don\u2019t fit in is lack of telepathy. Not your lack, you see. Theirs. Cell phones? Cable? Routers? Really? It\u2019s like talking to the fuckin\u2019 walls. Why don\u2019t you just pull two steel cans from the recycling bin and string \u2018em together? You landed in a backward-assed zone of the Milky Way, for sure. It\u2019s no wonder you prefer monitoring three flat screens and your Twitter feed while you\u2019re on the phone to your sister: it\u2019s the only time you feel you\u2019ve remotely achieved cruising speed.<\/p>\n

Cancer:<\/strong> If a person was meant to leave their home, they should have been born with a full-body hazmat suit complete with pressurized micro-climate. Your entire system is so exquisitely, delicately balanced, it\u2019s is a Grade B miracle you survived your first month on this crude, noisy planet. You can blame your survival on your human mother and that no-nonsense streak in her that you inherited. Sure, she might have been a little obviously stuck in her own plot, but she toughened you up. Even so, there\u2019s a part of you who wants to embrace these messy humans, despite their crude manners. But when you see TruckNutz, Febreeze, and The Fast and Furious 8<\/em>, you\u2019re back again in lockdown where the air is clear and the fluid finely filtered.<\/p>\n

Leo:<\/strong> You\u2019re the one in the lot who\u2019s actually glad to be here. I mean, think about it. Your last gig was a pretty hot one! But how can one person properly perform in 10,000 degrees Fahrenheit whilst dodging flaming spicules and magnetic shifts? Far better to drop in on humans and spread your special brand of life-sustaining sunshine over everyone you meet. The problem is your sizzle isn\u2019t always appreciated. You inherited a serious case of \u201ckill or be killed,\u201d and while that works at a certain distance (preferably on a Jumbotron screen), up close it\u2019s far more dangerous. Always working the room for threat assessments is no way to secure your future among humans. Mere humans are no match for your current firepower, and your days as a white dwarf are but a distant promise. No need to fret now. And besides, dwarves are cool.<\/p>\n

Virgo:<\/strong> Valiant Virgo! You so try to accommodate this Earth arrangement, but most days it\u2019s exhausting. You arrived with a mission, a glorious vision — like Saint John on Patmos, and about as apocalyptic. Unfortunately, you\u2019ve got a rep like poor ol\u2019 John on his mountaintop: people think you\u2019re smokin\u2019 something, or at the very least high on your own inner evangelical zeal, so you don\u2019t get many takers for your particular cult. Instead you\u2019re forced to sublimate your cosmic vision into a million daily micro-tasks. However, you\u2019re discovering the purity of your standards is no match for the scale of the problems here. How long does it take to move a mountain with a teaspoon in your hand? This gig\u2019s impossible!<\/p>\n

Libra:<\/strong> Cosmically, you\u2019re rooted in a place so dour and unforgiving it\u2019s no wonder you decided to try Earth on for size. It\u2019s a small planet by comparison, but we have pretty things here. And the colors are lovely. If only you could get some cooperation! At every turn it seems you\u2019re hindered and thwarted from your improvement schemes. (And Earth could be so much better, truly. Have you shared your plan to reunite Australia with the west coast of Africa?) It\u2019s the impulsive upstarts and crude, self-serving Neanderthals around here who don\u2019t appreciate your foresight. This place is so juvenile. Why did you come here, anyway? Oh\u2026right.<\/p>\n

Scorpio:<\/strong> You\u2019re commonly cast as the sex fiend, and though that\u2019s more myth than reality, you\u2019re fine with it. Sex easily distracts humans, and you need a good front for your operation here. Might as well throw them a little smolder, a little flame of passion, and like Milk Bones to the doggies, the humans here sit up and beg. The truth is this is a reconnaissance mission for you. Unlike other ETs, you have no interest in kidnapping humans, though you\u2019re not above a certain kind of \u2018probing\u2019 when you\u2019ve found a willing suppliant. You twiddle with our brains just to see how much we\u2019re willing to put out. What are you here to find, anyway? A clue is on your calling card: Department of Just Us. Perhaps wisely, it\u2019s unreadable to humans. But the picture of the flaming sword is a big hint.<\/p>\n

Sagittarius:<\/strong> Gregarious you! You\u2019re willing to try anything once, even a trip to Earth. Like any avid traveler, you know some adventures are more challenging than others. Lost luggage, bad coffee, funny toilets — they\u2019re all in the bargain of discovery. Forgiveness is the lingua franca<\/em> of your people. But, day-umm<\/em>. Who speaks that language here? Your phrasebook is not encouraging, either. It\u2019s all \u201cfuck this shit\u201d and \u201cyou and what army?\u201d and \u201cover my dead body.\u201d For all the attractions of this place, the grotesque lack of harmony on the planet is what keeps your one hand on the sangria carafe and the other hand clicking through the Orbitz site. If you can keep moving, you won\u2019t have to worry so much about the locals. When\u2019s your flight outta here, anyway?<\/p>\n

Capricorn:<\/strong> Little warrior from nearby, you arrived here no stranger to life on the bivouac circuit. Lean times and \u201cmaking do\u201d are in your genes. Stalwart is your middle name! However, you were hoping that, with your superior survival skills, a little working holiday on Earth would garner sure recognition of your natural leadership. What a mess the place is! But the potential for perfection inspires you like no other project. The humans here are clearly in need of systemic restructuring. Why is it, then, that you\u2019re constantly fleeing from nursing bras and potlucks, or impeded by the minutiae of requisitions from craft services? You know soldiers have to come from somewhere, but these body fluids and emotional appeals seriously cramp your style. You\u2019ll conquer gravity before you leave, but until humans can deliver you a competent and reliable staff of 20 from a 3D printer, you\u2019ll save your scratch for the next bus to Tau Ceti<\/a>.<\/p>\n

Aquarius:<\/strong> For you, Home is actually a verdant, lush paradise of plenty, and Earth is just a way-station. You only popped in for a bit because it looked familiar. You\u2019re curious that way. Sadly, this planet is far from paradise. But gravity and other attractions kept you here longer than you planned. This is why astrologers say your calves and ankles keep you skipping around — you\u2019re always trying to launch yourself out of here. This also explains a lot about why you\u2019re so distant. Objective is your preferred term, but seriously, if you get involved with humans, how will you ever leave? Instead you prefer -isms<\/em>. Humanism, for instance. Or plantism. Let\u2019s focus on ideals. Since you\u2019re stuck here for now, you might as well fight for Earth\u2019s paradise potential. It keeps the homesickness at bay.<\/p>\n

Pisces:<\/strong> You were never meant for this Earth and you know it. You\u2019ve always known it. You\u2019d tell everyone you\u2019re originally from the Fomalhaut System<\/a>, but you wouldn\u2019t want to give your people away. Besides, who would believe you? Instead you wander as a lonely star, slipping in and out of a hundred thousand etheric bodies, mingling with everyone and yet touching no one. The rocks speak to you; the trees do, too. But damned if anyone cares to know here. So you cling to the surety of little things, like etymologies, and cell structures. People like particulars, and particulars give you focus. But inevitably, like Baja cliff divers, you find yourself plunging back into the deep end. Until the Mothership returns for you, you\u2019ll have to remember that Earth martyrs, though never forgotten, don\u2019t get to be millionaires. It\u2019s w\/h\/ine or win — you pick!<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

By Madame Zolonga Well-meaning relatives like to give new parents little books for the baby with titles like On The Day You Were Born. You probably have one on your shelf right now. The title would be more honest if … Continue reading →<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3,"featured_media":0,"parent":18,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","template":"","meta":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/planetwaves.net\/cosmophilia\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/448"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/planetwaves.net\/cosmophilia\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/planetwaves.net\/cosmophilia\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/planetwaves.net\/cosmophilia\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/3"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/planetwaves.net\/cosmophilia\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=448"}],"version-history":[{"count":9,"href":"https:\/\/planetwaves.net\/cosmophilia\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/448\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":741,"href":"https:\/\/planetwaves.net\/cosmophilia\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/448\/revisions\/741"}],"up":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/planetwaves.net\/cosmophilia\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/18"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/planetwaves.net\/cosmophilia\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=448"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}