Monday, August 07, 2006
There is something under my bed!
At some point in their early years almost every child has imagined that there was “something” under his or her bed. “Something” just might be a monster. “Something” just as likely could be a good excuse not to go to sleep. But, what if there really was something under the bed?
When Louis XIII or Louis XIV (I can’t remember which, but since Louis XIV had the furniture line named after him including a bed, I assume it was Louis XIV.) was born, there was something under his bed—an astrologer to be certain. This was a necessity to determine the exact time of the birth to create an accurate astrological chart. No need to take any chances there. As we all know a few seconds or minutes here or there in an astrological chart can mean the difference between power and glory, or between disaster and poverty. Now depending on the prophecy rendered a few minutes after birth, the astrologer could be depicted as a monster if he lived long enough. And he or she would probably pay a hefty penalty for the dire prediction—possibly an on-the-spot sentence of death by hanging. So one thing was almost always certain at the birth of a royal heir—a rosy forecast for the future. That would at least give the seer time to get out of town. After all, who wants to be the person to tell an ogre or a tyrant, “It’s not over till it’s over, but in your case it is over.” Furniture or no furniture.
Tiberius who was to become Roman Emperor was one person who sort of fits that profile. Before ascending the throne he frequently consulted with astrologers on the Island of Rhodes. If he so much as suspected you of being dishonest or deceitful, he gave you a quick push over the cliff. Thrasyllus, who was a prominent advisor to the rich and powerful, was conversing with Tiberius as he looked back over his shoulder and realized that he had been maneuvered toward the cliff. Tiberius then asked him what the future held. Aware of the cliff so close behind him, he set to work with his charts and pronounced that the future held “great fear.” When asked whose, Thrasyllus suddenly gasped and said “mine” since he could see himself flying over the cliff at any second. Tiberius, however, was satisfied with the answer and Thrasyllus was satisfied that he was able to walk away from the cliff.
Now Julius Caesar was one guy who did not take the astrologers seriously, or any predictions for that matter. “Beware the Ides of March!” Anyone who had as many enemies as Julius should have been aware of the Ides of March and all the other days of the year as well. Of course, it is highly unlikely that Caesar was ever warned of the Ides. In all probability it was nothing more than a clever line dreamed up by old Shakespeare himself.
Tyco Brahe, who lived during the early years of the Scientific Revolution, was very much interested in all areas of the occult. Although he would later go on to be one of the shining lights of astronomy, he really wanted to be known as the greatest astrologer of his age. He planned a large edition of a book in which he predicted the death of Suleiman the Magnificent during the coming year. The only problem was that Suleiman was so inconsiderate that he died months before the book was published. Now, astrology has no place for anyone who can predict events well after they have already happened. Luckily for Science, Brahe washed out as an astrologer.
More recently the Altanta Zoo hired a couple of psychics to determine if Lun Lun, the giant panda, was in a family way. Last July zoo officials were abuzz with the news that Lun Lun was pregnant. A month later she was not—that was a big batch of crow for someone to chew on. This time they did not want to take any chances—hence the psychics. Helene Frisch announced that Lun Lun was not only pregnant but would deliver a male cub on September 4. The other psychic was not totally convinced and only gave Lun Lun a 65 percent chance. With four weeks to go everyone is holding their breath. The Panda was artifically inseminated last March. After six months you would think that they would not need any psychics. Oh well, in these kinds of cases you can never be sure—especially where zoo officials are involved.
At some point in their early years almost every child has imagined that there was “something” under his or her bed. “Something” just might be a monster. “Something” just as likely could be a good excuse not to go to sleep. But, what if there really was something under the bed?
When Louis XIII or Louis XIV (I can’t remember which, but since Louis XIV had the furniture line named after him including a bed, I assume it was Louis XIV.) was born, there was something under his bed—an astrologer to be certain. This was a necessity to determine the exact time of the birth to create an accurate astrological chart. No need to take any chances there. As we all know a few seconds or minutes here or there in an astrological chart can mean the difference between power and glory, or between disaster and poverty. Now depending on the prophecy rendered a few minutes after birth, the astrologer could be depicted as a monster if he lived long enough. And he or she would probably pay a hefty penalty for the dire prediction—possibly an on-the-spot sentence of death by hanging. So one thing was almost always certain at the birth of a royal heir—a rosy forecast for the future. That would at least give the seer time to get out of town. After all, who wants to be the person to tell an ogre or a tyrant, “It’s not over till it’s over, but in your case it is over.” Furniture or no furniture.
Tiberius who was to become Roman Emperor was one person who sort of fits that profile. Before ascending the throne he frequently consulted with astrologers on the Island of Rhodes. If he so much as suspected you of being dishonest or deceitful, he gave you a quick push over the cliff. Thrasyllus, who was a prominent advisor to the rich and powerful, was conversing with Tiberius as he looked back over his shoulder and realized that he had been maneuvered toward the cliff. Tiberius then asked him what the future held. Aware of the cliff so close behind him, he set to work with his charts and pronounced that the future held “great fear.” When asked whose, Thrasyllus suddenly gasped and said “mine” since he could see himself flying over the cliff at any second. Tiberius, however, was satisfied with the answer and Thrasyllus was satisfied that he was able to walk away from the cliff.
Now Julius Caesar was one guy who did not take the astrologers seriously, or any predictions for that matter. “Beware the Ides of March!” Anyone who had as many enemies as Julius should have been aware of the Ides of March and all the other days of the year as well. Of course, it is highly unlikely that Caesar was ever warned of the Ides. In all probability it was nothing more than a clever line dreamed up by old Shakespeare himself.
Tyco Brahe, who lived during the early years of the Scientific Revolution, was very much interested in all areas of the occult. Although he would later go on to be one of the shining lights of astronomy, he really wanted to be known as the greatest astrologer of his age. He planned a large edition of a book in which he predicted the death of Suleiman the Magnificent during the coming year. The only problem was that Suleiman was so inconsiderate that he died months before the book was published. Now, astrology has no place for anyone who can predict events well after they have already happened. Luckily for Science, Brahe washed out as an astrologer.
More recently the Altanta Zoo hired a couple of psychics to determine if Lun Lun, the giant panda, was in a family way. Last July zoo officials were abuzz with the news that Lun Lun was pregnant. A month later she was not—that was a big batch of crow for someone to chew on. This time they did not want to take any chances—hence the psychics. Helene Frisch announced that Lun Lun was not only pregnant but would deliver a male cub on September 4. The other psychic was not totally convinced and only gave Lun Lun a 65 percent chance. With four weeks to go everyone is holding their breath. The Panda was artifically inseminated last March. After six months you would think that they would not need any psychics. Oh well, in these kinds of cases you can never be sure—especially where zoo officials are involved.
