Leo - 3rd Decan
Nov. 3rd, 2025 10:17 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
crimsoncurrentOr: suppose the 7 of Wands uses that final ounce of will—the cup of blood drained by Babalon—in its last effort at a desperate breakthrough. Under that banner all façades are shed, all last gasps tendered. Iron John, mighty hammer in hand, broke a record and proved a point with his expiring breath. Is the 7 of Wands the Hail Mary pass of the tarot?!
Aaron Rodgers and the 7 of Wands
Speaking of football, let’s pause for a little anecdote from a Sunday night in January 2016.
First, I should explain that my son knows nothing about tarot. I know nothing about football. In fact, the Venn-diagram intersection of our shared interests is infinitesimally small. Nevertheless, that night we managed to successfully predict the outcome of that night’s Packers-Redskins game.
The kid was 15 at the time and a raving Packers fan. Figuring if nothing else it would give us something to talk about, I pulled out my Waite-Smith deck and asked if he wanted to see who would win. “Sure,” he said, unexpectedly.
How do you even read for the outcome of an athletic event? The same way, I reasoned, that you read for anything else you don’t know anything about. You ‘prime the pump’—i.e., you decide in advance what a given outcome might look like in tarot, and see if that outcome shows up. “What color are the Packers’ jerseys?” I asked. “Green,” said my son, putting some eyeroll into it.
I thought to myself, “The only card I can think of where someone’s got a green shirt is the 7 of Wands, so the Packers will win if he pulls that.” I fanned out the deck and told the kid to pick the winner. Sure enough, he pulled the 7 of Wands! “Ha!” I crowed. “They’ll win!”
Indeed, the Packers came from behind (11-0, at one point) to defeat the Redskins 35-18. What would I have said if he’d pulled, say, the 4 of Swords or really practically any card other than the 7 of Wands? I honestly don’t know. But I didn’t need to worry about that, right? Because tarot is weird and wonderful, and sometimes it just gives you a freebie like that.
How golden is your parachute?
What is it that makes anyone fight when things look bleakest? What makes us carry on when we are 11 points down and everyone seems to be arrayed against us? Perhaps it is the Greek concept of κλέος—the immortal honor that, to the Mycenaeans, was more important than longevity, peace, or excellent supplemental coverage. Honor might be given, in life, in the form of public recognition, war trophies or high office. But honor could also be earned in death, through valiant combat. In generations to come, your posthumous personal myth would eventually be burnished to a high gloss.
Indeed, the precipitating drama of the Iliad revolves around Achilles‘ refusal to fight when his war-prize, the slave-girl Briseis, is taken from him, thereby diminishing his kleos: “I swear, on this, a solemn oath to you, that a day will surely come when the Achaeans, one and all, shall long for Achilles, a day when you, despite your grief, are powerless to help them, as they fall in swathes at the hands of man-killing Hector. Then you will feel a gnawing pang of remorse for failing to honour the best of the Achaeans.” Κλέος allowed a hero to live beyond his short span, transcending his own mortality.
Aaron Rodgers and the 7 of Wands
Speaking of football, let’s pause for a little anecdote from a Sunday night in January 2016.
First, I should explain that my son knows nothing about tarot. I know nothing about football. In fact, the Venn-diagram intersection of our shared interests is infinitesimally small. Nevertheless, that night we managed to successfully predict the outcome of that night’s Packers-Redskins game.
The kid was 15 at the time and a raving Packers fan. Figuring if nothing else it would give us something to talk about, I pulled out my Waite-Smith deck and asked if he wanted to see who would win. “Sure,” he said, unexpectedly.
How do you even read for the outcome of an athletic event? The same way, I reasoned, that you read for anything else you don’t know anything about. You ‘prime the pump’—i.e., you decide in advance what a given outcome might look like in tarot, and see if that outcome shows up. “What color are the Packers’ jerseys?” I asked. “Green,” said my son, putting some eyeroll into it.
I thought to myself, “The only card I can think of where someone’s got a green shirt is the 7 of Wands, so the Packers will win if he pulls that.” I fanned out the deck and told the kid to pick the winner. Sure enough, he pulled the 7 of Wands! “Ha!” I crowed. “They’ll win!”
Indeed, the Packers came from behind (11-0, at one point) to defeat the Redskins 35-18. What would I have said if he’d pulled, say, the 4 of Swords or really practically any card other than the 7 of Wands? I honestly don’t know. But I didn’t need to worry about that, right? Because tarot is weird and wonderful, and sometimes it just gives you a freebie like that.
How golden is your parachute?
What is it that makes anyone fight when things look bleakest? What makes us carry on when we are 11 points down and everyone seems to be arrayed against us? Perhaps it is the Greek concept of κλέος—the immortal honor that, to the Mycenaeans, was more important than longevity, peace, or excellent supplemental coverage. Honor might be given, in life, in the form of public recognition, war trophies or high office. But honor could also be earned in death, through valiant combat. In generations to come, your posthumous personal myth would eventually be burnished to a high gloss.
Indeed, the precipitating drama of the Iliad revolves around Achilles‘ refusal to fight when his war-prize, the slave-girl Briseis, is taken from him, thereby diminishing his kleos: “I swear, on this, a solemn oath to you, that a day will surely come when the Achaeans, one and all, shall long for Achilles, a day when you, despite your grief, are powerless to help them, as they fall in swathes at the hands of man-killing Hector. Then you will feel a gnawing pang of remorse for failing to honour the best of the Achaeans.” Κλέος allowed a hero to live beyond his short span, transcending his own mortality.