Wizard's Weekly Wrap-Up: The Ballroom Bunker & the Wrecking Ball of Democracy
Secrets Leaked, Princes Fell, Palaces Crumbled, Missiles Misfired & the Heavens Erupted: The Week That Was October 19-25, 2025
This week, the world ran out of plot twists and started recycling them - only louder, dumber, and on fire - while heaven and hell synced their calendars and everyone with a crown, cabinet, or conscience received a divine reminder notice.
While seven million Americans flooded the streets to protest the president, the U.S. Marine Corps decided to play Top Gun over a California highway, with one missile prematurely detonating and damaging a car in J.D. Vance’s security detail, and Team Trump blew up another two fishing boats in the Caribbean, bringing their unofficial maritime-murder tally to well over 40. Trump’s now sent an aircraft carrier to the waters off South America, seemingly determined to start a war with Venezuela, likely so he can cancel elections at home.
When Trump posted AI videos of himself piloting a fighter jet and dumping raw sewage on protesters, Speaker Mike Johnson called it “satire to make a point.” The government limped toward its fourth week of shutdown while Arizona’s attorney general sued Johnson for blocking newly elected Democrat Adelita Grijalva from being sworn in, preventing her from signing the petition that would finally trigger a House vote on releasing the Epstein files.
Try as they might to bury the files, the truth about Epstein keeps clawing its way to daylight. This week, survivor Virginia Giuffre’s posthumous memoir dropped like a thunderclap, detailing how she was trafficked by Epstein and Ghislaine Maxwell to some of the world’s most powerful men, including Prince Andrew. The Prince still denies everything, but Buckingham Palace has already stripped him of his royal titles - a polite British way of saying “we believe her.”
Now the pressure’s on to go further: revoke Andrew’s remaining honours, his peerages, and his mansion. Even Prime Minister Keir Starmer weighed in this week, backing a parliamentary inquiry into Andrew’s cushy taxpayer-funded lifestyle. Royal commentators agree, the only way this story ends is if he disappears from view entirely, preferably to somewhere with no extradition treaty.
While the reckoning grips the British throne, America’s self-crowned king is still trying to outrun karma, lobbing distractions like flares from a crashing jet so we talk about anything but Epstein.
Without approval from anyone, Trump demolished the East Wing of the White House this week to make way for a lavish ballroom that he swore would pay “total respect” and not “interfere” with the existing building. The price tag has grown with every press conference - $200 million, then $300, now $350 - funded by a cabal of billionaire donors in what looks suspiciously like a pay-for-play loyalty program. All this, as the administration quietly warned states there may not be enough money to pay SNAP benefits next month that 42 million Americans rely on to put food on the table, and the U.S. national debt topped $38 trillion for the first time.
After commuting the sentence of convicted conman and former congressman George Santos (jailed for wire fraud, money laundering, theft of public funds, and lying to Congress) Trump moved straight on to pardoning Changpeng Zhao, the Binance founder who let billions in dirty crypto wash through his exchange. Then, as if to prove there’s no ecosystem he won’t poison, he green-lit oil drilling in Alaska’s Arctic National Wildlife Refuge.
Trump sued his own Justice Department for $230 million, claiming the FBI’s Russia probe and the Mar-a-Lago search (that discovered top secret government documents hidden in his bathroom) ruined his reputation and cost him money. Any payout would need approval from the sycophants he appointed, meaning Trump is literally trying to sign a government check to himself.
Bestselling author Michael Wolff announced he’s suing Melania Trump after she threatened to sue him for $1 billion - a legal food fight so messy it could end with both the president and First Lady under oath about their ties to Jeffrey Epstein. If the case goes to trial, the depositions alone could make Watergate look like a book club spat.
Dutch intelligence cut off data-sharing with Washington this week after discovering that classified U.S. intel was being funneled straight from the White House to its pals in the Kremlin.
And Canada’s Ontario Premier Doug Ford pulled off one of the most audacious pieces of political theatre in modern history, buying prime-time ad space during the World Series - the most-watched event in America this week - to air a spot quoting Ronald Reagan warning that “tariffs are a tax on the consumer.” Trump went apoplectic at Reagan himself ghosting him from beyond the grave, threatened to end trade talks with Canada and then slapped them with a 10% extra import tax. Canada seems unmoved. The world is laughing at the mad king as he rages against reality and tilts at the truth.
When Australian Prime Minister Anthony Albanese met Trump this week, the president couldn’t resist taking a swing at Ambassador Kevin Rudd - the former PM who once called him “the most destructive president in history.” Leaning across the table, Trump sneered, “I don’t like you either, and I probably never will.”
But Rudd got off easy. In a closed-door shouting match with Ukraine’s president Zelenskyy this week, Trump reportedly warned him that Putin “will destroy you” unless he surrenders to every Russian demand.
Meanwhile, Israel bombed central Gaza again, just days after Trump declared “eternal peace” in the Middle East, so Trump announced he’d meet Putin in Budapest to “end the war in Ukraine.” When a reporter asked Press Secretary Karoline Leavitt who picked the city where Russia once famously promised not to invade Ukraine, she replied, “Your mom,” then told the reporter to “stop texting me your bullsh*t questions.” Within days, the summit was abruptly canceled, Trump’s peace-prize fantasy dying by the day - not unlike the man himself, if the stars and our eyes are to be believed.
The president is running on borrowed time, which made Steve Bannon’s claim this week that Trump will run again in 2028 laughable, as well as unconstitutional and cosmically vetoed. The universe has already cast its vote: absolutely not. Tick tock, Trump. Tick tock.
Across the sea, thieves pulled off a daylight heist at the Louvre, making off with the French crown jewels like something out of a Netflix pilot. Europol, meanwhile, dismantled a massive SIM-farm network powering 49 million fake accounts across 80 countries - an industrial-scale engine of impersonation and fraud.
Japan made history by electing its first female prime minister, Sanae Takaichi, while Ireland answered with its own revolution in tone, electing Catherine Connolly, a left-wing independent who stands for Palestine, public housing, neutrality, and the people over profit. My, how very Pluto in Aquarius.
And speaking of Pluto, in an historic moment, King Charles prayed beside Pope Leo XIV beneath the frescoes of the Sistine Chapel - the first time a British monarch and a pope have knelt together since Henry VIII split from Rome in 1534. That rupture happened under Pluto in Aquarius. Now, with Pluto back there again for only the second time in half a century, the cosmos is cueing up the sequel.
And while we’re on the subject of the cosmos - this week, a scorched fragment from the heavens was found glinting in the red dirt of Western Australia, just as interstellar wanderer 3I/ATLAS slipped behind the Sun, triggering a colossal coronal mass ejection aimed toward the very place the comet was passing, while a chorus of other comets trailed nearby, their tails of plasma shimmering through the solar wind like stardust in motion.
There’s a lot happening above us right now - every flare, fragment, and flicker mirroring the chaos down below, all building towards a crescendo written in the stars for next February, when Saturn and Neptune meet in Aries for a conjunction never seen before in human history. As usual, I’ve checked the stars, mapped the fault lines, and tried to carve some clarity from the chaos.
So take a breath.
Let’s unpack the week that was.
Transmute fear with insight.
And make some meaning from the madness.
**The cosmic insights shared here are mapped to the real movements of the heavens during the past week. If you want to know more about planetary pattern recognition, read about it here**
🏛️ The White House Has Fallen
The image that emerged this week of bulldozers demolishing the East Wing of the White House to make way for a new $200, then $300, now $350 million ballroom were a stark analogy for what’s happening to America under President Donald Trump. Everything we thought was solid is being destroyed. Everything we thought we could depend on is being upended. The promise of America is being stripped bare and exposed, reduced to rubble and ruins while we all stand by, powerless to stop it.
This is the work of Pluto in Aquarius, more than Trump - he’s just Pluto’s messenger. Every 248 years, as the planet of destruction moves through the sign of the people, it tears down the empires that have forgotten who they serve.
The White House itself was born during Pluto’s last passage through Aquarius. Built in 1792, it rose as old empires cracked and new experiments in freedom were written into being. It was the era of the French and American Revolutions when the Bastille was stormed, Marie Antoinette lost her head, and a new republic across the Atlantic dared to defy a king.
The White House was meant to be an anti-palace - a home for the idea that power could serve rather than rule - yet from the beginning, that ideal was stained: the “people’s house” was raised by enslaved hands, on land taken from others, under a banner that promised liberty for all but meant it only for some.
Over the centuries, the building has been gutted, rebuilt, rewired, and redecorated more times than anyone can count. Presidents have come and gone, wars have been planned and ended within its walls, yet through it all, the pale sandstone facade from 1792 has remained largely untouched. A perfect metaphor for America itself - a republic that has rebuilt its interiors again and again without ever rebuilding its conscience.
Now Pluto has returned to Aquarius, the same cosmic current that called the nation into being is stripping the White House - and America - bare. Trump’s demolition is a mirror held up to the soul of the republic as the palace of We the People becomes a ballroom for one man’s ego and what was conceived as a symbol of service now hosts only spectacle.
It’s the deeper rhythm of Pluto - the force that tests what’s true. Every 248 years, it asks the same question: what was built on love, and what was not? Anything built on lies, fear, or domination cannot stand. Beneath the headlines, something sacred is happening: the country is being stripped back to its bones. The paint is peeling, the secrets are surfacing, and the ghosts of those who built the foundation are finally being heard.
America has always hidden behind its white facade - freedom, justice, equality - while the truth inside cracked and rotted. The walls may still gleam in the sunlight, but the interior has been torn apart again and again to make room for new illusions. Pluto has come to end the renovations and demand a rebuild - not with slave labor or stolen land, but with honesty. With love.
Every nail pulled, every wall opened, every truth revealed is part of that reckoning. The outer shell of 1792 can’t protect the myth anymore. Pluto doesn’t destroy what’s real; it destroys what pretends. The republic is being asked to do what it has never done: to tell the truth about what it’s built on, to let the light into the basement.
🕳️ A Dictator Digs Down
Senior administration officials this week said that Trump “will likely name” the new ballroom he’s building over the bones of the East Wing after himself, adding that that some are already referring to it as The President Donald J Trump Ballroom.
“At this point in time really the ballroom is the president’s main priority,” White House Press Secretary Karoline Leavitt said with a smile this week, seemingly not realising the tone deafness of her statement.
The government is currently in shutdown with no end in sight, workers have been furloughed, the Supreme Court has run out of money, SNAP benefits are about to expire, grocery prices are skyrocketing and farmers are going bankrupt thanks to Trump’s tariffs, but the presidents main priority is building the world’s largest ballroom?
What in the world could make this vanity project more urgent than addressing the problems Trump was sent to Washington to fix? As with all things Trump, the truth lies deep beneath the surface.
The East Wing that Trump tore down this week to make way for his new “ballroom” was never just architecture - it was camouflage. Beneath it sits the original wartime bunker, the Presidential Emergency Operations Center. Every president since Roosevelt has known it’s there, but most don’t usually go anywhere near it. Biden never had to hide there, nor did Obama. George W. Bush used it briefly on September 11, 2001, but between 2001 and 2020, the PEOC was used only for drills or briefings, not for active shelter.
But that all changed in May 2020, when protests swarmed the White House gates following the killing of George Floyd, and the Secret Service rushed Trump below ground. It was a full emergency response - the same level as 9/11 - not because of an attack on the nation, but because the people were demonstrating their disdain for an unpopular president.
That was the first time Donald Trump met the real underbelly of power: low ceilings, no windows, recycled air. Not gold, but gray, with fluorescent light, steel doors and narrow halls that smell mostly of concrete and only faintly of power. No windows, no chandeliers - just screens, switches, and silence.
The man who traffics in towers of triumph found himself in a cubicle of fear. If things had turned ugly that day - if the people had risen up and somehow managed to storm the White House - Trump would have been trapped in there for days, weeks or even months. He’s not the sort who’ll willingly hand himself over to an angry mob, but he’s also not the sort to see out his days in a fluorescent tomb more like a holding cell than a throne room. It’s not hard to believe that’s the day Trump first pondered, “What if this is it? What if I had to live down here?”
He likely swore that the next time he went below, it would be on his terms. It would sparkle. It would look like control. The next time he went underground, it wouldn’t be as a man in hiding. It would be as a king in his court. If he had to go down again, he’d make sure it looked like ascending.
If Trump wanted to upgrade the White House bunker- deck it out in gold like everything else in Trumpworld - he’d never be able to just come out and say it. Just having to use the thing back in 2020 visibly humiliated him. He hated the optics of being seen as hiding, which is why the very next day in broad daylight, he had federal officers clear Lafayette Square - tear gas swirling - so he could stage his grand exit, clutching a Bible in front of St. John’s Episcopal Church. A manufactured image meant to erase the memory of the basement.
Admitting he needs a better bunker would be admitting he thinks he might need to use it - an admission of fear and weakness that he needs a place to hide from the American people. If Trump wanted to build a better bunker, he’d do what he does with everything; bluster, lie and cover up the truth, lather it in gold and call it what it wasn’t.
In other words, if Trump wanted a better bunker, he’d hide it beneath a Ballroom.
🎭 A Bunker Beneath a Ballroom
Trump’s plans for his so called “ballroom” have been shrouded in secrecy from the minute he first mentioned the idea just a few months ago.
No plans have been released. No filings, no schematics, no oversight. Not one federal agency has a record of the East Wing’s new design. You can’t get a permit to build a carport in D.C. without public record, yet somehow a $350 million “ballroom” on the White House lawn leaves no paper trail. The only reason you keep a project that secret is because it isn’t a ballroom at all. It’s a cover story - a construction site for continuity, not celebration.
When reporters asked why no plans had been filed, a White House official shrugged, “The National Capital Planning Commission does not require permits for demolition, only for vertical construction.” In other words, you only need permission when you’re building up, not when you’re digging down. Which tells you everything. This project doesn’t reach for the sky - it burrows.
According to Trump, what he’s planning is massive - twice the size of the main White House itself at 90,000 square feet. The Ballroom at Buckingham Palace - where actual kings host state banquets - is 7,200 square feet. A regulation football field is 57,600. What Trump is planning would be larger than any royal, hotel, or palace ballroom on Earth. The only spaces that big are convention halls in Vegas and Macau, built to host 10,000 people at once. You don’t waltz in a room that size - you mobilize.
And then there’s the price tag, now $350 million, but that number goes up every time Trump opens his mouth. At ninety thousand square feet, that’s $3,888 per square foot. For comparison, the cost of building a high-end luxury home runs around $220 per square foot. So where’s the rest going? Into marble? Or into reinforced steel, private tunnels, and God knows what below?
And thanks to The Washington Post, now we know who’s footing the bill. The donor list reads like the guestbook of the apocalypse: tech titans, defense contractors, and hedge-fund billionaires - the very people who already own private bunkers, airstrips, and survival compounds. Apple, Amazon, Meta, Microsoft, Google, Palantir, T-Mobile, Microsoft, Comcast - the list goes on. It seems the bunker billionaires may be building a new one, only this time it’s not in New Zealand or Nevada - it’s beneath the White House. The same people who could rebuild the world are busy reinforcing the one that’s collapsing.
Trump isn’t building a space for dancing - he’s building a vault for hiding. The dimensions alone betray the delusion. He’s not preparing to entertain heads of state; he’s preparing to survive the end of his own. When someone tells you they’re adding a ballroom, but it’s eight times the size of Buckingham Palace’s and built over an existing bunker, that’s not interior design - that’s psychological warfare disguised as decor.
His “People’s Ballroom” isn’t a renovation; it’s an ark for one man’s apocalypse - the bunker of a king who believes the world can end, as long as he doesn’t. It’s the fantasy that survival can be hoarded. The myth that you can outlast consequence if you dig deep enough.
Trump’s flat out lying about his ballroom, like he always does about everything, but this time the lie tells the truth: he’s already living in the mindset of collapse, because he knows the end is near.
💣 The Ballroom of the Damned
In the dying days of Hitler’s regime, he too built a bunker beneath a ballroom.
Hitler unveiled the New Reich Chancellery in 1939, designed as a temple to permanence - a half-kilometre corridor of mirrors and marble, built to last a thousand years. But by 1943, the thousand years had turned to dust and the Fuhrerbunker was conceived, not as vision, but as retreat. It was an afterthought carved into the clay beneath the grand halls above. A panic project. A hole dug by a regime that knew the light was fading.
Hitler built upward in pride, and then downward in panic. The ballroom was for show; the bunker was for truth, built at the end when the music stopped and the empire turned to ash.
Trump is doing the same dance - yet another page ripped from the authoritarian playbook - because in the end, every dictator eventually digs.
Stalin hollowed out the Kremlin.
Mussolini carved tunnels under his villa.
Franco built his under a palace.
Saddam gilded his with gold taps.
Gaddafi’s bunkers stretched for miles, air-conditioned and delusional.
Kim Jong-un lives inside an entire mountain.
They all start by building palaces and end by building bunkers - monuments above, escape hatches below. Power always doubles itself: marble for the people, concrete for the panic. But you can’t outlive truth in the dark. After a few weeks underground, the air turns stale, the mind starts to echo, and the soul remembers what it ran from.
Trump’s ballroom built over a bunker is not a sign of strength - it’s a sign that he knows the end is nigh. When power feels the ground shaking, it doesn’t reach for the people - it reaches for concrete.
💵 Fortress of Flee-dom
While Americans endure the government shutdown and feel the pinch of rising costs, the White House is not only focussed on building Trump’s new multi-million dollar “ballroom” but also quietly pledging up to $40 billion to prop up Argentina, one of the most risk-laden economies in Latin America.
Don’t be fooled - this isn’t about stabilising a neighbour. It’s about anchoring an allied regime, while the American corner of the world pulls threads loose.
As Trump pours billions into Argentina to prop up his fellow strongman, the ghosts of the last century stir. When Hitler’s Third Reich collapsed, its architects scattered south - a new world refuge for old world ruin. Argentina became the basement of history, the place where defeated tyrants went to wait out the storm. So when Trump sends forty billion dollars to “save” Argentina, maybe it’s not charity at all. Maybe it’s an old instinct whispering from the past - build the bunker somewhere the light can’t reach.
Whatever it is, it’s not strength, but yet another sign that the end is near and Team Trump is quietly but also loudly preparing for what comes next.
🧠 Weekend at Donny’s
In an interview with The Daily Beast this week, psychiatrist Dr. John Gartner, formerly of Johns Hopkins, said what no one in the White House will say out loud: Donald Trump is cognitively impaired and dangerously unwell.
Dr. Gartner explained that Trump almost certainly suffers from malignant narcissism, a condition most often marked by extreme grandiosity, paranoia, sadism, and antisocial behavior. Trump’s public actions - demonizing minorities, promoting propaganda, and endorsing violence - fit this profile to a tee. His behavior is not random but rooted in a pathological personality structure. Those who suffer from this condition are almost always born with it, and from all available evidence, Trump has displayed symptoms of the condition since he was a child.
Hitler showed the same grandiose self-belief, messianic fantasies, persecutory paranoia, and fixation on conspiracy that Trump always has, and just like Trump, towards the end Hitler’s physical health faltered - his hands tremored, his shoudlers collapsed, his doctors whispered Parkinson’s. But as Hitler’s physical health deteriorated, so did his mind, and in his final months, as he took refuge in his bunker, he made increasingly irrational decisions: ordering attacks that had no strategic sense, refusing to acknowledge reality, and hiding as his regime collapsed.
Sound familiar?
What we’re seeing now in Trump, according to Gartner, are symptoms of the dual collapse of malignant narcissism fused with dementia - a rare and catastrophic combination, not unlike the one Hitler experienced at his end.
Trump’s speech patterns show classic dementia markers: disorganized thought, memory blackouts, slurred words, phonemic slips, and the “stone-skipping” logic that leaps from topic to topic - the kind where he talks about immigrants seeking asylum, then jumps to them being from mental asylums, then starts rambling about the late great Hannibal Lecter, a fictitious character who’s not dead because he’s not real, but who did fictitiously inhabit a mental asylum because he liked to eat people. From seeking asylum, to mental asylums to Hannibal Lecter - that’s the stone-skip logic of a dementia patient right there.
In his recent speech at Quantico, Trump rambled about “beautiful gold paper” for military commissions; Gartner says this fixation on texture and color is textbook dementia behavior, where the mind clings to one concrete object and drifts entirely away from meaning.
Gartner also cited physical evidence of decline: a suspected minor stroke after Trump turned up to the September 11 memorial with obvious and undeniable facial drooping, while being prescribed medication consistent with post-stroke care. Combined with swollen ankles, bruising on the back of his hands, and erratic energy levels that see him unexplainably disappear from public view for days at a stretch, the signs point to a man losing physical and neurological control while still holding nuclear codes.
Most alarming, Gartner says, is that Trump’s deterioration hasn’t reduced his danger - it’s amplified it. His aides, particularly Stephen Miller, now exploit the chaos, pushing policies Trump no longer fully grasps. Like a modern “Weekend at Bernie’s” regime, the spectacle continues: a cognitively collapsing figurehead obsessed with wallpaper, ballrooms and Hannibal Lecter, while ideologues execute the agenda behind him.
“They keep him busy with little hateful tasks,” Gartner warned this week. “He designs the ballroom while others wage the blitzkrieg.”
Or perhaps the truth is more sinister - his ballroom will house the bunker where his enablers will hide once the dear leader succumbs to his medical maladies and karma catches up to them. The sick king digs the hole, but the courtiers plan to live in it - a fantasy retirement bunker for one man, but a continuity-of-regime node for his successors. A command-post and safe-haven where loyalists, donors and functionaries can hide, coordinate legal and military responses, and try to run the country while the public scrambles outside. Not a ballroom for dancing, but an ark for whoever plans to survive the storm.
Dictators build walls when their bodies fail; courtiers build myths to inherit what’s left. A bunker would be both - a monument to fear and a shelter for ambition.
🌌 The Reckoning in the Heavens
While Trump’s administration tries to convey strength - invading American cities, bombing boats in the Carribean and trying to start a war with Venezuella - what they’re really facing is collapse; the planetary equivalent of a foreclosure notice.
The sky over the next few months is stacked with endings, exposures, and karmic callbacks that no bunker or ballroom can outlast.
From October onward, Pluto in Aquarius grinds against the United States’ chart like a wrecking blade on steel - every hidden deal, every abuse of power, every buried truth will be pulled up from the basement. It’s not chaos for chaos’ sake; it’s demolition for divine audit. Trump’s ballroom bunker will be useless - hiding is impossible when Pluto’s holding the flashlight.
November will be a pressure cooker. Mars stirs Saturn and Neptune, forcing fantasy to meet consequence. The administration’s moral fog will thicken even as legal tremors build beneath it. Words will become weapons, whistleblowers will surface, and the propaganda machine will start choking on its own fumes. Suppression will still rule, but everyone will feel the quake coming.
December is when the vault opens and everything they’ve been hoarding in shadow starts to leak. As Neptune stations direct in Pisces early in the month, illusions dissolve, fog lifts, and every lie that’s been hiding in soft focus gets a sharp edge. From this moment on, the spin collapses. Every denial becomes a confession in slow motion. There will be financial shocks, political ruptures, celestial fireworks. This is when the script stops working, and reality starts rewriting itself.
By January, we get a Pluto pile up in the sky triggering an unmasking of power so total that even the most fortified institutions won’t be able to pretend stability. When the Sun, Mars, Mercury, and the Moon all stack on Pluto in Aquarius, the facade will crack. Leadership will turn frantic. Neptune’s shift into Aries at the end of the month will reset the collective dream from escape to confrontation: the era of illusion will end and the reckoning will begin.
And then February brings an unprecedented reset. Saturn and Neptune meet at 0° Aries - a convergence never seen before in human history - and the scaffolding of fantasy will collapse. This is the cosmic moment of truth: the end of deceit and the birth of a new order. For this administration, it’s checkmate - body failing, secrets spilling, allies defecting, the people roaring back. Jupiter crowns the U.S. Sun with the seed of renewal, but only after the false king falls.
Team Trump have run out of time. Every planet now moves toward exposure, not preservation. The bunker won’t save them, the donors won’t shield them, and the myth of invincibility won’t survive the conjunction. By the time Saturn meets Neptune in February, the empire of spectacle will collapse under the weight of its own delusion, and what rises next will be built not on fear, but on truth.
🎪 The Performance of Power
So don’t buy into their performance of power - it’s quite literally the greatest show on earth, designed to hide the fact that Team Trump is months away from collapse.
A wounded animal is always most dangerous when cornered, and right now Trump is that wounded animal. He knows he’s hit. He knows the clock is counting down. He knows the secrets are going to spill, and he’s thrashing as the walls close in.
That’s why he’s suddenly obsessed with “everlasting peace” in Gaza and Ukraine - not out of empathy, but terror. Each headline about cease-fires and summits is just a stage prop to distract from the real war closing in on him: the one between truth and survival. Every promise of peace is a prayer that karma might mistake performance for redemption.
He’s bombing boats in the Caribbean and rattling sabers at Venezuela not to defend democracy but to detonate the narrative. If he can provoke chaos, he can justify control. Martial law is the last card in the dictator’s deck, the one that cancels elections and buys a few more heartbeats before the reaper taps his shoulder.
And this week, when Canada quoted Ronald Reagan’s own warning about tariffs, Trump lost it - frothing at the idea of being out-Reaganed by a neighbor, wildly raging against reality and tilting at the truth. He threatened to end trade talks, slammed Canada with a retribution tax, and railed against the ad, but that’s not diplomacy; that’s dementia with a podium.
The illusion of dominance is all that’s left, and he’s acting it out in real time - a collapsing man choreographing his own downfall, convinced that if the orchestra keeps playing, no one will notice the ship is already underwater.
But Trump’s Titanic has well and truly hit the iceberg, and in a matter of months, all who sail on her will meet their political demise. Let’s be clear: that won’t end America’s suffering, but it will end the reign of Trump. What comes next won’t be a return to what was. Just like the East Wing, what Trump has taken a wrecking ball to isn’t about to miraculously rebuild itself.
America will have to reckon with the ruins - to face the truth that Trump’s chaos exposed. But from those ruins, from that raw, unfiltered reckoning, something better can emerge. Slowly, painfully, but inevitably, out of the rubble, the republic will remember what it was always meant to be.
☄️ As Above, So Below
While madness reigns on Earth, the heavens appear to be keeping pace.
For months now, interstellar comet 3I/ATLAS has been gliding in from the outer dark, heading toward us from the edges of our Solar System - a visitor from another realm, only the third ever seen in all of human history. But this is no ordinary comet. It behaves like something alive, with jets of vapor where there should be ice, heat where there should be silence and a body some say the size of Manhattan, bleeding light like it has a story to tell.
Unlike most regular comets that loop obediently around the Sun, this one is slicing straight through our Solar System as if on assignment - weaving between planets with impossible precision, shedding water long before it should, spitting carbon dioxide eight times faster than ice, metallic nickel shimmering through the mist. At its leading edge, two luminous points hold steady - headlights in the dark - even as the nucleus tumbles.
Then last week, as it neared the Sun, the heavens went electric. Five solar flares erupted in just thirty-six hours, each one hurling charged particles into the void. The sky pulsed like a live wire. Plumes of magnetized plasma streamed toward Earth, sparking auroras and rattling satellites - messages written in light and fire.
And then the comet vanished from our view, swallowed by brilliance as it passed behind the Sun. For months, astronomers had waited for this precise moment - the conjunction, when our star and this alien wanderer would finally meet. Would the Sun burn it to dust, transform it, or receive something from it - data, dust, code, communion?
No one knew until this week, on October 21, when the Sun answered. A colossal coronal mass ejection erupted - a full-halo blast aimed directly at the far side, exactly where the comet was passing.
Fresh coronagraph images show the comet still intact behind the Sun, exactly on course, accelerating toward perihelion on October 29. Even the Sun’s fury - three titanic CMEs hurled along its path - couldn’t erase it. Somewhere beyond the glare, two cosmic strangers met at the edge of fire, and both survived. The Sun roared; the wanderer endured. By late November, 3I/ATLAS will re-emerge from behind the Sun, sweeping past Earth just before Christmas - carrying the record of its solar conversation written in plasma.
But it’s not alone.
This season, the skies are crowded with visitors - a whole congregation of comets are lighting up the dark: green-glowing C/2025 R2 (SWAN), the bright and beautiful C/2025 A6 (Lemmon), the long-period C/2025 L1 (ATLAS), and others trailing their own secrets through the night. A celestial parliament has gathered, each tail a torch in the dark, as if the universe itself has convened above us to witness the world below.
This sudden gathering of wanderers from the deep holds a message for humanity. For millennia, comets have signaled the fall of kings and the turning of ages, but that’s usually just for one single comet. What meaning can we derive from multiple - some travelling in from other realms?
These celestial rebels aren’t warning of our end - they’re reminding us of our origin. They’re streaking through the heavens like luminous memory, whispering the same truth in every language of light: remember who you are.
You are not ruled. You are radiant.
Power itself is being recalled, redistributed, rewritten. The thrones on Earth are trembling not because the world is ending, but because the people are beginning to remember their own divine design. What comes next is not a dictator - it’s a dawn. It’s the return of self-sovereignty, the rise of the remembered, and the awakening of a species that finally remembers it was never meant to kneel.
☀️ Let it Be
For those of us who watched in horror this week as the walls of the White House - and of America - came tumbling down, our task in the days ahead is simple yet painful: let what’s falling, fall.
In our nations, in our systems, and in our own lives, every structure will be tested over the next twenty years as Pluto moves once more through Aquarius. Anything not built on truth or love will be shaken to the ground. What crumbles was never meant to last. What collapses, we’re not meant to carry forward.
Pluto has not come to punish but to purify - to reveal the rot so we don’t drag it into what comes next. And what’s coming next isn’t doom. It’s deliverance.
As always, when Pluto moves through Aquarius, the people rise, the truth ascends, those who abused their power fall, and from the ruins something stronger, truer, and finally worthy of love is born.
So let what’s falling, fall. Let the old systems crack, the false gods crumble, the myths dissolve. Because even as the world breaks open, the universe is holding us steady. Every collapse is a cosmic correction, every ending a return to alignment.
We are not alone in this unraveling. The same force tearing down the towers is also lifting the light. The same hand that dismantles is the one that delivers.
It’s not that we’ve fallen into dark times. It’s quite the opposite. Our world is being flooded with so much light - literally - that, for the first time, we can see exactly where the rot lies. Any home lit only by candles can look like a sanctuary, but switch on the downlights and you’ll see everything you’ve neglected to clean. That’s Earth right now: blinded by the light, not lost in the dark. We’re being shown, with merciless clarity, all that must be reckoned with.
This light is not chaos - it’s choreography - and we are being held through the dance.
The sky has not abandoned us - it’s reminding us that the fall is sacred, and that from every ruin, love remembers how to rise.
So let what’s falling, fall. The same heavens that rain fire also whisper peace. Even in the wreckage, there is music, and somewhere in the dust, a quiet voice still hums the oldest prayer of all, whispering words of wisdom: let it be.
See you next Sunday, friends. Until then, stay kind, stay fierce, and stay human.
PS: - If you want support letting what’s falling fall, come join me in the Daily Lighthouse. I’ll be there, each day with you, or if you prefer it in an audio listening format, head over to the Resonance Room
Words fail me. Beautiful writing, Wizard! Thank you, thank you for telling us about the gorgeous comet and the others soon arriving. Just wondrous. I am writing you from Philadelphia, on a trip here deliberately to revisit the “birthplace of democracy”. While the government shutdown has closed several historic sites, a place that is open is the Museum of the American Revolution. I spent several hours there yesterday. A remarkable place. It opened in 2017. Obviously hundreds of historians collaborated with exquisite detail to bring history alive from every perspective. Besides the usual famous names are many others’ stories - from Native Americans and Black people - interwoven in the telling of American history here - and in great detail to ensure their prominence rather than superficial stories. There are also rooms exploring the British soldiers and even the German Hessians who fought here - showing their humanity. All peoples are treated with respect, and raw truth is presented.
Post-revolution - when a new government “of the people” is supposed to be there - they tell the truth of Shay’s Rebellion of poor farmers who also wanted representation but were destroyed by the wealthy elite. Just like today.
It is a remarkable place. I mention it because - after reading your article this morning - the power of Pluto in Aquarius to generate democracy through upheaval and inspiration - such as Payne’s book “Common Sense” - is obvious in this museum’s thoughtful approach.
I left there feeling great hope for our renewal as a nation of “freedom and justice for all”. Bring on Pluto’s new revolution!
Not a pretty picture but one with the encouragement of truth. We truly are not alone. Let it be. Let the heavens shine light upon us as we navigate these next few years. I very much appreciate your mapping of these times.