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rinueI have always been inordinately fond of Tarot cards. I have always been fond of cards in general -- the waxy feel of the paper, the babbling sound of a good shuffle, the fun of arranging and rearranging abstract symbols -- and Tarot cards are often more beautiful than a typical Bicycle deck. I believe in the subconscious, the unconscious, and the potential of the moment; mystical or not, I find Tarot a useful interpretive tool, often quite helpful in therapy.
7th Sea contains a fictional magic system built around Tarot; it is a world where "fate witches" see the webs that connect people, strands that are labeled with swords or staves. This person and that have the two of cups between them -- the dawning potential for a romantic relationship. Those over there are held by the Queen of Coins -- the woman is the man's generous patron.
Each suit, you see, represents a different sphere of relation. Cups stands for matters of feeling, matters of the heart. Swords stands for conflict. Coins bely dealings of a fiscal nature, and staves give body to bonds of respect. Some links are stronger; some links are weak. The same person you love with a passion may be your most contentious rival.
Aside from these links, which everyone has, a small few have an "aspect" -- a card of the major arcana which colors their lives and gives them great influence. Perhaps a man is crowned with the Wheel of Fortune, and he seems supernaturally lucky. Perhaps another bears the Chariot Reversed, and he's cursed with the hubris of never backing down from a fight.
I think there is some small truth in this system -- not that veiled women wander among us, tugging on our friendships, but that a few people seem singled out by an archetype, or an incarnation. We joke that my husband is Death incarnate, not because he is a fearsome killer, but because of his knowlege of endings, (and his unique way of looking foward to destroying the world when Armageddon comes). He has Hades' gift with money -- and with it, Hades' unsympathetic love for irony. He is infinite, uncompromising -- and not without compassion.
For me, I feel that I'm War; not today's institutionalized, technological destruction from a distance, but the fight of those who believe in a cause. Revolution, not Imperialism. Terrorism is cowardly. Bombing is cowardly. Guerilla warfare, last stands -- they're hideous and overly romaticized, but they mean something. They are the actions of people with nothing left but an idea; that idea may be wrong or harmful, but it's a reach for the eternal, noble at least in its attempt. Of course, modern warfare has eradicated that option. Rally 9/10ths of a nation to your cause -- you still lose if the other guys can shoot you from a mile away, from behind a shield.
We cannot even have a revolution of intellect. Mass media is owned by a few large corporations, all of them deeply invested in the status quo, as they are the status quo. Stage a million man march, and see how quickly the press points to the millions who aren't there; on the other hand, look at how few people doing a power-friendly concilliation classify as "a movement." (Silent majority, my ass.)
I am War: I champion change, for what happens in the absense of movement? Stagnation. Stink and death and rottenness. No hope. No momentum. No promise of a better tomorrow. You can see it all around you -- the empty pre-fab buildings. The Wal-Martizing of American culture. (Laugh if you want -- we used to have regional cuizine.) The growing ranks of unemployed; the falling voter turnout. Service economy. Top-twenty radio. A one-party system.
I am War, and I sound my trumpet for revolution . . . only to hear the notes die as they leave the horn. Maybe that's why I like the Internet, the true last frontier, the new Old West. Every generation has its battleground, Oregon or India; this is ours.
7th Sea contains a fictional magic system built around Tarot; it is a world where "fate witches" see the webs that connect people, strands that are labeled with swords or staves. This person and that have the two of cups between them -- the dawning potential for a romantic relationship. Those over there are held by the Queen of Coins -- the woman is the man's generous patron.
Each suit, you see, represents a different sphere of relation. Cups stands for matters of feeling, matters of the heart. Swords stands for conflict. Coins bely dealings of a fiscal nature, and staves give body to bonds of respect. Some links are stronger; some links are weak. The same person you love with a passion may be your most contentious rival.
Aside from these links, which everyone has, a small few have an "aspect" -- a card of the major arcana which colors their lives and gives them great influence. Perhaps a man is crowned with the Wheel of Fortune, and he seems supernaturally lucky. Perhaps another bears the Chariot Reversed, and he's cursed with the hubris of never backing down from a fight.
I think there is some small truth in this system -- not that veiled women wander among us, tugging on our friendships, but that a few people seem singled out by an archetype, or an incarnation. We joke that my husband is Death incarnate, not because he is a fearsome killer, but because of his knowlege of endings, (and his unique way of looking foward to destroying the world when Armageddon comes). He has Hades' gift with money -- and with it, Hades' unsympathetic love for irony. He is infinite, uncompromising -- and not without compassion.
For me, I feel that I'm War; not today's institutionalized, technological destruction from a distance, but the fight of those who believe in a cause. Revolution, not Imperialism. Terrorism is cowardly. Bombing is cowardly. Guerilla warfare, last stands -- they're hideous and overly romaticized, but they mean something. They are the actions of people with nothing left but an idea; that idea may be wrong or harmful, but it's a reach for the eternal, noble at least in its attempt. Of course, modern warfare has eradicated that option. Rally 9/10ths of a nation to your cause -- you still lose if the other guys can shoot you from a mile away, from behind a shield.
We cannot even have a revolution of intellect. Mass media is owned by a few large corporations, all of them deeply invested in the status quo, as they are the status quo. Stage a million man march, and see how quickly the press points to the millions who aren't there; on the other hand, look at how few people doing a power-friendly concilliation classify as "a movement." (Silent majority, my ass.)
I am War: I champion change, for what happens in the absense of movement? Stagnation. Stink and death and rottenness. No hope. No momentum. No promise of a better tomorrow. You can see it all around you -- the empty pre-fab buildings. The Wal-Martizing of American culture. (Laugh if you want -- we used to have regional cuizine.) The growing ranks of unemployed; the falling voter turnout. Service economy. Top-twenty radio. A one-party system.
I am War, and I sound my trumpet for revolution . . . only to hear the notes die as they leave the horn. Maybe that's why I like the Internet, the true last frontier, the new Old West. Every generation has its battleground, Oregon or India; this is ours.
