Of course, this tenacious and rock-like Crab is not the first powerful American leader to place his confidence in he wisdom of the planets.  Among a number of others, Presidents Abraham Lincoln, George Washington, Thomas Jefferson and Franklin D. Roosevelt did so - and in fact, the majority of founding fathers of this nation, and the signers of the Declaration of Independence, as well as our Constitution, were themselves either astrologers or serious students of astrology.  Each one, including Ben Franklin himself.  And if I may be forgiven for letting a Cancerian-type secret out of the bag, because the New Age of Aquarius demands truth at this eleventh hour of our planet's survival, Masonry is based on astrology, as all high-degree Masons are aware.  (Most of our founding fathers were Masons, or Rosicrucians, who saw to it that the birth chart of our country was chosen with meticulous attention to planetary positions.) 

Don't you believe it's time astrology's detractors should halt their attacks against this ancient art and science?  Surely it's time that certain men, who are otherwise intelligent, should cease their futile, yet repeated attempts to assassinate this guide to self-knowledge, which our co-Creators, in Their infinite wisdom, bestowed upon us for both our temporal and our spiritual enlightenment - and which so clearly proves the Synchronicity of the Universe. 

The reason so many Moon-ruled Crabs feel rather snugly at home in this country is because the United States of America is perhaps the most typical Cancerian Sun Sign of all, born on the Fourth of July - confused and sidetracked repeatedly by the split-personality, schizophrenic urges of its Gemini ascendant (preaching freedom, while having denied blacks, women and the American Indians true equality, and so forth).  Still, Uncle Sam is basically a Crab, his Gemini Rising Sign notwithstanding, the Lunar qualities subconsciously embedded in all who live under the Stars and Stripes, whatever their personal Sun Signs may be, for everyone lives three Karmas throughout any given incarnation.  Individual, racial and national Karmas equally influence the feelings and actions.  And when two Crabs double up in an association within an also Cancerian country, the 1-1 vibration increases in intensity. 

Is there a single citizen of the USA (each Crab especially who doesn't feel an inexplicable heart tug of nostalgic sentiment and secret, if grudging, admiration at the sound of the brisk, clipped accent of 'dear old Mother England' - or who wasn't kinfolk proud of he courage of every Britisher, from pub keeper to Churchill, during the WW II blitz bombing of London?  Is not our CIA, FBI, NASA, and evidently (judging from the Watergate affair) also, periodically, our Government, unnecessarily secretive?  Were we not first to land a man on the Moon itself, our very own Sun Sign ruler? 

Are we not, as a nation, continually feeling guilty twinges over our inability to feed the world's hungry - and did we not initiate the practice of sending CARE packages to the needy?  (Cancer
cares.)  Like any two Cancerians doubled-up, do we not become unexpectedly Crab-shell tough in a crisis?  And - say!  Why don't those countries we try to help, by intervening in their private affairs, like us more?  Why aren't they more grateful?  Does anyone really-truly love us?  (sob-sob)  Who will dispute America's use of her wealth to buy affection and respect from others, as well as to purchase security and protection against those who might hurt her, and her 'children'?  Is not the largest defense budget and nuclear stockpile in the world an aspect of undue Cancerian caution?  And Heavens-to-Betsy-Ross!  Goodness knows we've always fought for her and clung to our freedoms - tenaciously. 

Now, if we can only get over our Cancerian money hang-up, let go and learn to really
share, realize that to get love, we must give love, we might all stop being so crabby and snapping at each other (like any two Crabs, in any sort of an association).  Oh dear, oh dear!  Things were so much better back in the good old days… when we had whiffleberry jelly on our toast… (sob-sob)… swinging on the apple tree on the grassy-green backyard… swimming in unpolluted rivers and streams… all snug and

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