nisaba
Oops, was I remiss or what.
Anyway.
My reading, using good Old Granny Jones.
Row One, the bottom row is the Big Bang Burger Bar, briefly referred to in the volume called "The Restaurant at the End of the Universe". The Big Bang Burger Bar is a tourist-trap at the very instant of creation. These seven cards, when viewed and interpreted together, will give you an overview or "story" of the fundamentals of the place, person (or even the celebratory day) that you are reading for.
And wow, I drew an assortment! The Six Swords, Tower and Devil were all about things best left behind for the day. The Nine Buttons and Three Cups are about just getting out there and drinking coffee and doing light character-readings in the company of our Towels. The Nine Swords and Ten Wands is referring to my personal life and something serious I've been putting off dealing with, that I didn't think about at all on World Towel/Tarot day - it was just letting me know it was still there.
Row Two symbolise "Slartibartfast's Favourite Fijords". Slartibartfast was an elderly man whom promotion had passed by, whom in the scale of planet-creation was a menial - he only ever got to do the Crinkly Bits around the edges of continents. These seven cards, read together, tell you what has been firm and reliable forever in the situation, but what may one day start to crumble.
I pulled two Kings and the Queen of one of them (although I think she might be having an affair with the other King, judging by his smile and her dance!) The Five Swords is about my inner doubts, I could do well to have that crumble, in time. Judgement, as in self-judgement, seems fjord-like in its solidity in my life, but as Slartibartfast would tell you, fjords are constantly moving, just as glaciers are. It's the Fool's knotted tail I'm noticing: the crossed fingers behind the back <grin>. the King and Queen of Buttons, happy and bubbly, and the King Cups, naked in public, are all good fun. And the chase for money in the Four Buttons seems to be an ongoing situation in my life - but may not be, given where the card has fallen!
Row Three symbolises Deep Thought. Long ago, a computer of this name was devised by a bunch of confused toga-wearing philosophers to arrive at the answer to Question, the Great Question, the Question of the Meaning of Life, the Universe and Everything. The answer, of course, was 42. This row, read together, symbolises whatever needs your deep and profound thought, now and in the future.
I drew a lot of Minor Wand Cards. Time to think about action and direction, I think. There are two Cup-cards amongst all the Wands: the Eight and Nine, indicating that I need to think carefully about moving away from comfort-zones.
Row Four is Marvin the Paranoid Android. Marvin is a man-shaped robot with a "brain the size of a planet" and sharp pains through all the diodes down his left side. Humans treat him badly, in one case actually leaving him in the basement of an office block to park cars for six trillion years. Marvin's Row illustrates those issues about which you feel powerless, and which make you actually feel worse than you need to, despite any evident positivity in the cards.
<looks at cards> Yep, that'd be right.
Funny, I thought Granny Jones was a *friendly* deck. And *light-hearted*. And inclined to have *fun*. And on this most silly of fun-Tarot-days, what cards does she throw me for my Inner Marvin to complain over? The Seven Cups. I am an expert at making bad choices, this last decade or so. The Knight Swords. In recent months I've been running off at the mouth and regretting it. The Empress. Well, *you* try parenting a teenager who's a triple-Taurus (sun, moon and rising) when you're starting to wear out and they're just hitting their stride! The Three buttons: well, I've been writing a bit of verse lately, but not enough prose, and I haven't been working on major creative projects that have slipped into the background. the Magician: this one is a swindler, a shyster - I seem to find 'em regularly: do I have a big coreflute sign in my aura saying "Mug"? The Knight Buttons, yeah, I'm a slave to my routines and don't have enough up-an'-at-'em any more. And the Five Cups ... well, I'm more focussed on certain losses now than I was at the actual relevant time. Damn, this deck dunn good! This just isn't the right time for a lecture, Granny!
Row Five is the Improbability Drive. These cards show you what is supremely unlikely, and therefore almost certain to happen. If I can segue from one great master to another, Terry Pratchett accidentally described the force powering the spaceship with the Improbability Drive very well when he said "research wizards have ascertained that one in a million chances pay off nine times out of ten." These cards express that which is most incredible and improbable in the situation which will therefore come to pass.
Well, my Inner Queen Swords and my Inner Hierophant will join forces to defeat my Three Swords heart. Granny Jones (HPS) and the Queen Cups (my tea-drinking self) can together overcome all hurdles, even the hurdles in the Seven Wands, and nurture my Inner Page Wands. (Yeah, like that flying money is ever going to flutter my way!).
Row Six, the top row, is the Dolphin's Row. Man feels he is smarter than dolphins because he discovered fire, the internal combustion engine, guns, pollution, and digital watches. Dolphins feel they are smarter than man for *exactly* the same reasons. They are about play, and when the earth was about to detonate, they all left, leaving behind a message which read "So long, and thanks for all the fish". Dolphins, and the Dolphin row, are all about having fun and avoiding catastrophe. These cards tell you what to enjoy and what to run like hell from, depending on whether they are "positives" or "negatives".
Okay, so I should enjoy my new career as a tightrope walker ( Two Wands) and snuggling in front of the fire (Ten Cups - funny, last night I went to my meditation group at a friend's place who has an open fire!), and getting stuck in the cog-wheels of life (Wheel of Fortune). The Four Swords tells me I should always take my holidays by myself (as if I didn't know that from my most recent holiday!), the Six Wands indicates I should enjoy the praise of others, the Ten Buttons tells me I should stay home more (if that's possible!) and the Eight Swords tell me that if I reincarnate as a robin, I should fly away from hungry cats and falling red knives. Sounds like sensible advice for an enjoyable life, to me.
Anyway.
My reading, using good Old Granny Jones.
Row One, the bottom row is the Big Bang Burger Bar, briefly referred to in the volume called "The Restaurant at the End of the Universe". The Big Bang Burger Bar is a tourist-trap at the very instant of creation. These seven cards, when viewed and interpreted together, will give you an overview or "story" of the fundamentals of the place, person (or even the celebratory day) that you are reading for.
And wow, I drew an assortment! The Six Swords, Tower and Devil were all about things best left behind for the day. The Nine Buttons and Three Cups are about just getting out there and drinking coffee and doing light character-readings in the company of our Towels. The Nine Swords and Ten Wands is referring to my personal life and something serious I've been putting off dealing with, that I didn't think about at all on World Towel/Tarot day - it was just letting me know it was still there.
Row Two symbolise "Slartibartfast's Favourite Fijords". Slartibartfast was an elderly man whom promotion had passed by, whom in the scale of planet-creation was a menial - he only ever got to do the Crinkly Bits around the edges of continents. These seven cards, read together, tell you what has been firm and reliable forever in the situation, but what may one day start to crumble.
I pulled two Kings and the Queen of one of them (although I think she might be having an affair with the other King, judging by his smile and her dance!) The Five Swords is about my inner doubts, I could do well to have that crumble, in time. Judgement, as in self-judgement, seems fjord-like in its solidity in my life, but as Slartibartfast would tell you, fjords are constantly moving, just as glaciers are. It's the Fool's knotted tail I'm noticing: the crossed fingers behind the back <grin>. the King and Queen of Buttons, happy and bubbly, and the King Cups, naked in public, are all good fun. And the chase for money in the Four Buttons seems to be an ongoing situation in my life - but may not be, given where the card has fallen!
Row Three symbolises Deep Thought. Long ago, a computer of this name was devised by a bunch of confused toga-wearing philosophers to arrive at the answer to Question, the Great Question, the Question of the Meaning of Life, the Universe and Everything. The answer, of course, was 42. This row, read together, symbolises whatever needs your deep and profound thought, now and in the future.
I drew a lot of Minor Wand Cards. Time to think about action and direction, I think. There are two Cup-cards amongst all the Wands: the Eight and Nine, indicating that I need to think carefully about moving away from comfort-zones.
Row Four is Marvin the Paranoid Android. Marvin is a man-shaped robot with a "brain the size of a planet" and sharp pains through all the diodes down his left side. Humans treat him badly, in one case actually leaving him in the basement of an office block to park cars for six trillion years. Marvin's Row illustrates those issues about which you feel powerless, and which make you actually feel worse than you need to, despite any evident positivity in the cards.
<looks at cards> Yep, that'd be right.
Funny, I thought Granny Jones was a *friendly* deck. And *light-hearted*. And inclined to have *fun*. And on this most silly of fun-Tarot-days, what cards does she throw me for my Inner Marvin to complain over? The Seven Cups. I am an expert at making bad choices, this last decade or so. The Knight Swords. In recent months I've been running off at the mouth and regretting it. The Empress. Well, *you* try parenting a teenager who's a triple-Taurus (sun, moon and rising) when you're starting to wear out and they're just hitting their stride! The Three buttons: well, I've been writing a bit of verse lately, but not enough prose, and I haven't been working on major creative projects that have slipped into the background. the Magician: this one is a swindler, a shyster - I seem to find 'em regularly: do I have a big coreflute sign in my aura saying "Mug"? The Knight Buttons, yeah, I'm a slave to my routines and don't have enough up-an'-at-'em any more. And the Five Cups ... well, I'm more focussed on certain losses now than I was at the actual relevant time. Damn, this deck dunn good! This just isn't the right time for a lecture, Granny!
Row Five is the Improbability Drive. These cards show you what is supremely unlikely, and therefore almost certain to happen. If I can segue from one great master to another, Terry Pratchett accidentally described the force powering the spaceship with the Improbability Drive very well when he said "research wizards have ascertained that one in a million chances pay off nine times out of ten." These cards express that which is most incredible and improbable in the situation which will therefore come to pass.
Well, my Inner Queen Swords and my Inner Hierophant will join forces to defeat my Three Swords heart. Granny Jones (HPS) and the Queen Cups (my tea-drinking self) can together overcome all hurdles, even the hurdles in the Seven Wands, and nurture my Inner Page Wands. (Yeah, like that flying money is ever going to flutter my way!).
Row Six, the top row, is the Dolphin's Row. Man feels he is smarter than dolphins because he discovered fire, the internal combustion engine, guns, pollution, and digital watches. Dolphins feel they are smarter than man for *exactly* the same reasons. They are about play, and when the earth was about to detonate, they all left, leaving behind a message which read "So long, and thanks for all the fish". Dolphins, and the Dolphin row, are all about having fun and avoiding catastrophe. These cards tell you what to enjoy and what to run like hell from, depending on whether they are "positives" or "negatives".
Okay, so I should enjoy my new career as a tightrope walker ( Two Wands) and snuggling in front of the fire (Ten Cups - funny, last night I went to my meditation group at a friend's place who has an open fire!), and getting stuck in the cog-wheels of life (Wheel of Fortune). The Four Swords tells me I should always take my holidays by myself (as if I didn't know that from my most recent holiday!), the Six Wands indicates I should enjoy the praise of others, the Ten Buttons tells me I should stay home more (if that's possible!) and the Eight Swords tell me that if I reincarnate as a robin, I should fly away from hungry cats and falling red knives. Sounds like sensible advice for an enjoyable life, to me.
