A ‘CANDIDENTIAL' WHO'S WHO
A New Astrological Look At The Current Presidential Candidates
by Suzanne White
Buffalo. June 2006 - Bill Clinton was working the back of the room at Chef's, a busy checkered tablecloth spaghetti restaurant in the city center. Like a friendly navy blue Lab, Clinton bounded up to table after table of astounded Buffalonians, shook hands with them all, kissed the regulation number of babies and hugged one or two huge flowered ladies over sixty real hard till their glasses fell askew.
"He's so tall." gasped my sister-in-law, Nicole. "and handsome."
What could Bill Clinton be doing in downtown Buffalo? thought I, pretending to study the huge plasticated menu, whilst keeping an eye peeled on Big Bill's progress.
My brother George, a terminally tranquil seventy-two year old convicted life term Republican was suddenly in motion. First, he fidgeted his beer glass to his lips and squinted in amazement over top of the glass's rim as the immense blue-suited apparition hove our way. By the time Clinton was upon us, George had gone all sedate and respectful. He had decorously placed his napkin on the table beside his plate, gotten to his feet and extended his hand. "Mr. President." I heard him say reverentially. "Tickled pink to meet you."
Bill shook his hand amiably, performing that chummy demeaning hold onto your wrist thing that patronising men do to each other sometimes. It looks like the first guy is stealing the other guy's right cuff link. But Bill was just being his charming presidential self. "What should I order here?" Bill asked George. "They say it's pretty good. What would you suggest I eat here today?"
The last time I had seen my brother paralyzed was at Buffalo Children's Hospital when he had polio at age 12. The look on his face said, Do I advise this Democrat punk about the hearty home-cookin' here in my favorite Italian restaurant? Or should I steer him to the heartburn column?
Clinton stood fast, waiting for his culinary tip. With that dopey
Labrador grin on his face, he looked so calm he might have been asleep.
To an experienced politician like Bill Clinton, Republicans probably have a certain smell. To me, it looked like Bill had diagnosed old Georgie from afar and decided to try to do a quickie on the spot party conversion. His unspoken message was: Hey chum. You got an Armani knit polo shirt on. Gucci loafers without tassles. You look like a guy who knows his Italian cuisine. The truth, they say, is the ultimate con.
Still immobilized, my brother half sat, holding the menu up so as Bill could easily read all the available dishes: Pasta, Calzones, Lasagna, Meatballs - the usual suspects. "You ought to have this one. Mr. President." intoned George, pointing to a square in the center of the menu. "It's the specialty of the house."
"Did you order that?" Bill wondered. George nodded and smiled goofily up at Bill. Yes indeedy, he had.
The die was cast. My strictly conservative Reaganite brother George had just fallen in love.
By now, the entire restaurant was in heat. A kind of groupie estrus malaise had come over all the women. I was the worst hit. A 68 year old 16-year-old with a digital camera. I kept hot flashing it up at the towering Bill as he still stood near our table now talking to Chef's Restaurant's owner who is of course called Chef.
"You were born on the same day as me," Chef told Bill. "August 19, 1946."
"Oh that is a co-incidence now, isn't it?" said Bill.
I had written a New York Times Op-ed piece about Clinton when he was running against Dole. It was all about New Astrology signs and how Clinton was a Leo born in a Dog year and Dole was a Virgo born in a Pig year and what that meant for the outcome of the election. I had, even back then, compared Bill Clinton to a Labrador who jumps up on you and laps off your makeup just to say hello. Eager and friendly but perhaps not all that well-bred.
FYI, this Bill Clinton person is a giant. I looked up and shouted over the restaurant's hysterical din, "You're a Leo/Dog! You are both Leo/Dogs."
The way those men looked down at me then made me sure that both Clinton and the Chefster had me figured me for some batty old woman who lives half-snockered in a trailer under the overpass outside the city limits and who dreams of having something - anything - even her obituary - published in The New York Times.
But Bill had nonetheless connected. "A Leo/Dog huh?" He hollered back down to me.
"Yes." I shouted. "You are a Leo and you were born in a Dog year. That makes you a Leo/Dog in New Astrology. I invented it. It's a book!"
Now I was really a rattling loony tunes. I got that old sizzly feeling of impending immortality. I was talking to a former president of the United States about The New Astrology. It was like sitting right next to Salvador Dali in the cinéma in Paris. I did that once too. It also felt sizzly.
"Well," said Bill, leaning down to me. "I'm a Leo/Dog, huh.
"Yep." I chirped. "That's what I said. You are a Leo/Dog."
He smiled, placed his big hand on my shivering shoulder, gave a nod and confided, "I've been called worse."
I can't help it. I brake for a man with brains. For me, in a man, income level, social status and availability are irrelevant. They have to be smart and make me laugh. Otherwise, what good are they?
Now let's have a look at the current presidential candidates... and their brains.
D- Barack Obama is a Leo too. He was born in 1961. In The New Astrology, that makes him a Leo/Ox. Like Napoleon Bonaparte and Louis Armstrong and Monica Lewinski. Dictator, jazzman and uh.... Tough cookie?
D- Hillary Clinton is a Scorpio. She was born in 1947. She's a Scorpio/Pig, Like Marie-Antoinette and Chiang-Kai-Shek and our own Kevin Kline. These whiz kid people drip canny authenticity. They often benefit from unusual destinies.
D- John Edwards? He's a Gemini born in 1953. That's a Gemini/Snake like John F Kennedy and Bobby Dylan and Brooke Shields. Irresistibly attractive, meticulous, slick and ever so clever at fibbing.
D- Dennis Kuchinich is a Libra born in 1946, a Dog year. There are lots of famous Libra/Dogs like: George Gershwin and Susan Sarandon and Brigitte Bardot. Good people. Just. Fair. Honest. Hardworking and frequently out-of-sorts with the mainstream.
R- Rudy Giuliani is a Gemini/Monkey from 1944. He's in good company with the Duchess of Windsor and the Marquis de Sade. Agile. Shrewd. Imperious. A tester of social convention. .
R- Mike Huckabee is a Virgo/Goat from 1943. There's a slew of famous Virgo/Goats . A most eclectic lot they are too: Larry Hagman, George Wallace and Jean-Claude Killy. Eccentric. Lovable. Large-scale. Dogmatic. But can he ski?
R- John McCain was born in late August of 1936. He's a Virgo/Rat. A couple of his birthmates are song and dance men, Maurice Chevalier and Gene Kelly. The sunny kind of Rat. Capable and power hungry.
R- Mitt Romney is a Pisces born in 1947 which makes him a Pisces/Pig in New Astrology. Pigs are naïve but they can very convincing. He shares a New Astrology sign with L. Ron Hubbard. Is this the sign of the preacher man?
Each of these New Astrology© signs is double. They blend the person's western month sign with his or her Chinese Year sign and come up with a whole new character type. Caution! Cast not thy vote before swine.
A New Astrological Look At The Current Presidential Candidates
by Suzanne White
Buffalo. June 2006 - Bill Clinton was working the back of the room at Chef's, a busy checkered tablecloth spaghetti restaurant in the city center. Like a friendly navy blue Lab, Clinton bounded up to table after table of astounded Buffalonians, shook hands with them all, kissed the regulation number of babies and hugged one or two huge flowered ladies over sixty real hard till their glasses fell askew.
"He's so tall." gasped my sister-in-law, Nicole. "and handsome."
What could Bill Clinton be doing in downtown Buffalo? thought I, pretending to study the huge plasticated menu, whilst keeping an eye peeled on Big Bill's progress.
My brother George, a terminally tranquil seventy-two year old convicted life term Republican was suddenly in motion. First, he fidgeted his beer glass to his lips and squinted in amazement over top of the glass's rim as the immense blue-suited apparition hove our way. By the time Clinton was upon us, George had gone all sedate and respectful. He had decorously placed his napkin on the table beside his plate, gotten to his feet and extended his hand. "Mr. President." I heard him say reverentially. "Tickled pink to meet you."
Bill shook his hand amiably, performing that chummy demeaning hold onto your wrist thing that patronising men do to each other sometimes. It looks like the first guy is stealing the other guy's right cuff link. But Bill was just being his charming presidential self. "What should I order here?" Bill asked George. "They say it's pretty good. What would you suggest I eat here today?"
The last time I had seen my brother paralyzed was at Buffalo Children's Hospital when he had polio at age 12. The look on his face said, Do I advise this Democrat punk about the hearty home-cookin' here in my favorite Italian restaurant? Or should I steer him to the heartburn column?
Clinton stood fast, waiting for his culinary tip. With that dopey
Labrador grin on his face, he looked so calm he might have been asleep.
To an experienced politician like Bill Clinton, Republicans probably have a certain smell. To me, it looked like Bill had diagnosed old Georgie from afar and decided to try to do a quickie on the spot party conversion. His unspoken message was: Hey chum. You got an Armani knit polo shirt on. Gucci loafers without tassles. You look like a guy who knows his Italian cuisine. The truth, they say, is the ultimate con.
Still immobilized, my brother half sat, holding the menu up so as Bill could easily read all the available dishes: Pasta, Calzones, Lasagna, Meatballs - the usual suspects. "You ought to have this one. Mr. President." intoned George, pointing to a square in the center of the menu. "It's the specialty of the house."
"Did you order that?" Bill wondered. George nodded and smiled goofily up at Bill. Yes indeedy, he had.
The die was cast. My strictly conservative Reaganite brother George had just fallen in love.
By now, the entire restaurant was in heat. A kind of groupie estrus malaise had come over all the women. I was the worst hit. A 68 year old 16-year-old with a digital camera. I kept hot flashing it up at the towering Bill as he still stood near our table now talking to Chef's Restaurant's owner who is of course called Chef.
"You were born on the same day as me," Chef told Bill. "August 19, 1946."
"Oh that is a co-incidence now, isn't it?" said Bill.
I had written a New York Times Op-ed piece about Clinton when he was running against Dole. It was all about New Astrology signs and how Clinton was a Leo born in a Dog year and Dole was a Virgo born in a Pig year and what that meant for the outcome of the election. I had, even back then, compared Bill Clinton to a Labrador who jumps up on you and laps off your makeup just to say hello. Eager and friendly but perhaps not all that well-bred.
FYI, this Bill Clinton person is a giant. I looked up and shouted over the restaurant's hysterical din, "You're a Leo/Dog! You are both Leo/Dogs."
The way those men looked down at me then made me sure that both Clinton and the Chefster had me figured me for some batty old woman who lives half-snockered in a trailer under the overpass outside the city limits and who dreams of having something - anything - even her obituary - published in The New York Times.
But Bill had nonetheless connected. "A Leo/Dog huh?" He hollered back down to me.
"Yes." I shouted. "You are a Leo and you were born in a Dog year. That makes you a Leo/Dog in New Astrology. I invented it. It's a book!"
Now I was really a rattling loony tunes. I got that old sizzly feeling of impending immortality. I was talking to a former president of the United States about The New Astrology. It was like sitting right next to Salvador Dali in the cinéma in Paris. I did that once too. It also felt sizzly.
"Well," said Bill, leaning down to me. "I'm a Leo/Dog, huh.
"Yep." I chirped. "That's what I said. You are a Leo/Dog."
He smiled, placed his big hand on my shivering shoulder, gave a nod and confided, "I've been called worse."
I can't help it. I brake for a man with brains. For me, in a man, income level, social status and availability are irrelevant. They have to be smart and make me laugh. Otherwise, what good are they?
Now let's have a look at the current presidential candidates... and their brains.
D- Barack Obama is a Leo too. He was born in 1961. In The New Astrology, that makes him a Leo/Ox. Like Napoleon Bonaparte and Louis Armstrong and Monica Lewinski. Dictator, jazzman and uh.... Tough cookie?
D- Hillary Clinton is a Scorpio. She was born in 1947. She's a Scorpio/Pig, Like Marie-Antoinette and Chiang-Kai-Shek and our own Kevin Kline. These whiz kid people drip canny authenticity. They often benefit from unusual destinies.
D- John Edwards? He's a Gemini born in 1953. That's a Gemini/Snake like John F Kennedy and Bobby Dylan and Brooke Shields. Irresistibly attractive, meticulous, slick and ever so clever at fibbing.
D- Dennis Kuchinich is a Libra born in 1946, a Dog year. There are lots of famous Libra/Dogs like: George Gershwin and Susan Sarandon and Brigitte Bardot. Good people. Just. Fair. Honest. Hardworking and frequently out-of-sorts with the mainstream.
R- Rudy Giuliani is a Gemini/Monkey from 1944. He's in good company with the Duchess of Windsor and the Marquis de Sade. Agile. Shrewd. Imperious. A tester of social convention. .
R- Mike Huckabee is a Virgo/Goat from 1943. There's a slew of famous Virgo/Goats . A most eclectic lot they are too: Larry Hagman, George Wallace and Jean-Claude Killy. Eccentric. Lovable. Large-scale. Dogmatic. But can he ski?
R- John McCain was born in late August of 1936. He's a Virgo/Rat. A couple of his birthmates are song and dance men, Maurice Chevalier and Gene Kelly. The sunny kind of Rat. Capable and power hungry.
R- Mitt Romney is a Pisces born in 1947 which makes him a Pisces/Pig in New Astrology. Pigs are naïve but they can very convincing. He shares a New Astrology sign with L. Ron Hubbard. Is this the sign of the preacher man?
Each of these New Astrology© signs is double. They blend the person's western month sign with his or her Chinese Year sign and come up with a whole new character type. Caution! Cast not thy vote before swine.
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