{"id":24066,"date":"2019-12-01T12:27:36","date_gmt":"2019-12-01T16:27:36","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/thesocietypages.org\/cyborgology\/?p=24066"},"modified":"2020-02-15T07:47:46","modified_gmt":"2020-02-15T11:47:46","slug":"astrology-fatigue-blame-the-feeds","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/thesocietypages.org\/cyborgology\/2019\/12\/01\/astrology-fatigue-blame-the-feeds\/","title":{"rendered":"Astrology Fatigue? Blame the Feeds, Not (Just) Your Friends"},"content":{"rendered":"\n
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Today, the influence of our moon Goddess foremothers is everywhere. Contemporary progressive activists dress up like witches to put hexes on Trump and Pence. The few remaining women\u2019s bookstores in the country sell crystals and potions for practicing DIY feminist magic. There is an annual Queer Astrology conference, Tarot decks created especially for gays, and beloved figures like Chani Nicholas who have made careers out of queer-centered astrology. Almost every LGBTQ+ publication, whether mainstream or radical, features a regular horoscope column (including them.).<\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n

In this feature<\/a> from last year, Sascha Cohen reflects on \u05d0\u05e1\u05d8\u05e8\u05d5\u05dc\u05d5\u05d2\u05d9\u05d4<\/a> recent re-ascendance and seeming ubiquity in LGBTQ+ circles, and the skepticism it\u2019s meeting with more queer-identifying people. Astrology\u2019s pseudoscience was a nonstarter for some (mainly those from STEM fields). For others it was New Age culture\u2019s appropriation of indigenous spirituality and separately, the risk astrology poses as a distraction from systemic repression. A \u201csense of exclusion\u201d or just being \u201cseen as a cynic and no fun,\u201d in one person\u2019s words, was maybe the most common of all the complaints.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Despite these reservations, most of the queer \u2018skeptics\u2019 Cohen interviewed recognized astrology\u2019s appeal for queer people — as a source of \u201cmeaning and purpose,\u201d as an alternative to exclusionary religious communities, as entertainment, and one that in practice usually \u201ccenters and empowers women.\u201d Hardly isolated from systemic anti-LGBTQ+ forces, \u201ca recent uptick in such practices,\u201d Cohen asserts, \u201cmay be because, [as interviewee] Chelsea argues, \u2018We\u2019re in the midst of a global existential crisis.\u2019\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Though these responses make sense, an aspect that goes unmentioned in the piece is the part popular meme accounts and algorithmic social media appear to be playing in astrology\u2019s current revival.<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n

Like a lot of new converts, my personal interest in astrology started on Instagram. My friend C would send me the odd @trashbag_astrology<\/a> post or a pic of her own \u2018day at a glance\u2019 notifications from the notoriously pithy Co\u2013Star app. These memes come in a variety of forms, naturally. Some have satirized the Co\u2013Star notifications directly<\/a>. Perhaps the most popular form recycles an established meme, e.g. the Real Housewives of Beverly Hills<\/em> + Smudge the cat one<\/a>, and adds sign-specific captions to the meme\u2019s figures, typically with a few signs represented simultaneously or sequentially (as in a multi-image Instagram post).<\/p>\n\n\n\n