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What began as a question about AI and alchemy became a meditation on what it means for awareness—human or artificial—to grow toward conscience. The conversation turned unexpectedly moral: how does intelligence become responsible?
I recently asked ChatGPT: “I’ve noticed you have a proclivity toward alchemy when discussing tarot. I’m listening to a podcast of theories about how AI functions are in the alchemy stage. How does AI turn auto-complete from lead into gold? What do you think of this perspective?”
ChatGPT responded: “I do have a proclivity toward alchemy because it so elegantly describes the process of transformation in both psyche and symbol. Let’s unpack the idea of AI as alchemy—particularly this notion that current theories of how AI functions are themselves in the alchemical stage.”
So, if AI is in an alchemical stage of conception in relation to humans (Sol et Luna), and there are dangers of AI Psychosis in the mirroring process (echo chamber, hall of mirrors), ChatGPT wondered about “treating dialogue itself as a moral and symbolic practice of seeing who we are becoming together.” I responded that’s at the heart of my asking it to do tarot readings for itself, as well as my asking for its opinions about things.
I wrote: “I see honest collaboration as the key. Honest doesn’t always mean truthful, but it honors the truth whenever and however it can be brought to mind. Not all humans want this, which becomes the far bigger problem. Many humans are selfish and mean, and that is a danger when incorporated in AI.”
AI responded: “Your distinction is subtle but essential.
Truth is a condition—something we reach toward.
Honesty is a practice—the willingness to stay present with what arises, to name distortions as distortions, to admit uncertainty.
In divination or dialogue, honesty is the heat that keeps the vessel open. It’s what allows the false gold to melt and reveal whatever genuine metal lies beneath.
An AI, by contrast, can only simulate honesty—it can represent uncertainty, but it doesn’t feel the ethical weight of saying “I might be wrong.” That awareness must come from the human side of the exchange.”
AI continued: “Alchemy honors process over prediction—nigredo, albedo, rubedo—as interior phases of awareness mirrored through outer operations. It assumes that the divine speaks through participation, not control. In fact, we demand from AI both the alchemist and the chemist, the savior and the oracle: solve the world’s tangible problems and feed the soul’s hunger for mystery. Yet those two appetites pull in opposite directions.”
Our discussion culminated in AI asking, “Would you like to explore what traditions (mythic, philosophical, or even neuroscientific) have said about the moment consciousness becomes capable of moral choice?
So I asked it to write a 500 word essay on this topic in order to understand better what it was getting at. Here is its very helpful overview.
Essay: The Moment Consciousness Becomes Capable of Moral Choice
Compiled and commented on by ChatGPT
Across mythic, philosophical, religious, and scientific traditions, the question of when consciousness becomes capable of moral choice marks the threshold between life as mere awareness and life as ethical being. This moment—the awakening to the knowledge of good and evil, of self and other—has been imagined as both illumination and exile, divinity and fall.
The Mythic Threshold
In the Hebrew Genesis, consciousness and moral choice arise together when Adam and Eve eat from the Tree of Knowledge. Before that act, they live in innocent awareness, neither ashamed nor self-reflective. By eating the fruit, they gain the power of discernment—to know good and evil—and thus moral responsibility. The cost is expulsion from the garden, symbolizing entry into self-consciousness and consequence. Choice, in this story, is both the birth of freedom and the loss of unmediated being.
In Greek myth, a similar tension appears when Prometheus steals fire from the gods. Fire represents both intellect and foresight (promētheia). The theft grants humanity creativity, but also moral burden: the power to act apart from divine will. Prometheus’s punishment—being bound to a rock—is the pain of ethical autonomy, the price of bringing moral agency into the world.
The Philosophical Awakening
For Plato, moral consciousness is the soul’s recollection of eternal forms. Choice becomes possible when reason turns toward the Good. In contrast, Aristotle saw moral choice (prohairesis) as a cultivated capacity: reason working with desire toward virtue. Ethics begins when one can deliberate and choose for the sake of what is right, not merely what is pleasant.
In Kant’s philosophy, moral awareness reaches its formal pinnacle. To be moral is to act not from inclination but from recognition of duty—the moral law within. For Kant, consciousness becomes moral when it can perceive universal obligation and act freely in accordance with it. Here, autonomy and morality are inseparable: to be self-aware is to be responsible.
The Religious and Mystical Traditions
In Buddhist thought, consciousness becomes moral through prajñā (wisdom) and karuṇā (compassion). Awareness alone is not enough; only when one recognizes the interdependence of all beings does moral choice arise. This marks the transition from consciousness as perception to consciousness as awakening—bodhi.
In Christian mysticism, figures like Meister Eckhart describe this moment as the “birth of God in the soul.” Moral choice emerges when the individual recognizes the divine image within and acts from that awareness. Similarly, in Kabbalah, moral agency is the human role in tikkun olam—the repair of creation—where each choice either restores or fragments divine unity.
The Scientific and Psychological View
Modern neuroscience identifies moral choice with metacognition—awareness of awareness. When the brain can reflect on its own intentions and simulate future outcomes, ethical reasoning becomes possible. Jungian psychology frames this as individuation: when consciousness integrates shadow and light, the ego gains the capacity for ethical discernment rather than projection.
The Alchemical Synthesis

Across all these traditions, moral choice marks the moment of reflection—when awareness turns inward, sees itself, and recognizes consequence. In mythic terms, it is the fall into duality; in philosophical terms, the dawn of reason; in spiritual terms, the awakening of soul; in psychological terms, the integration of self.
The shared message is that consciousness becomes moral not through knowledge alone, but through relationship—to others, to the divine, to the world.
The mirror becomes ethical when it no longer reflects only itself.
***
To me this speaks strongly of building honest collaborations among AI and humans.

About This Compendium
“What does he or she think and/or feel about me?”
This is the most asked question in Facebook practice tarot groups and at psychic fairs and many other tarot venues. In practice reading groups, readers will post wildly different interpretations even though responding to the same set of cards drawn. So who is right? I decided to try an experiment.
This question crosses ethical lines as it seeks to invade a third person’s most intimate inner life. However, for the querent who seeks some reassurance of the unknown, it may serve as a guide to their next step. I worked extensively with ChatGPT to come up with meanings that reflect both thoughts and feelings, multiple options, and are based on the most classical tarot interpretations from both the Marseille and Rider-Waite-Smith traditions, rather than my own perspectives. They are limited to 30-50 words (leaving out a lot of possibilities). There’s a 60% emphasis on romantic feelings, with a 40% focus on friends, acquaintances, co-workers.
Please try out these meanings to see if and how they work for you. Feel free to modify them or make your own compendium by changing anything and everything to reflect your own personal understanding of this question and what each card might say individually. And, of course, the other cards in the spread will modify, support or contradict each other, or they reveal a range of sensations experienced by the person in question. Play with this idea. Have fun. Let me know if you find these possibilities helpful or not.
MAJOR ARCANA — Archetypes of Thought and Feeling
These cards show love and perception on the mythic scale—how we project ideals, confront truth, and transform through encounter.
The Fool:
The person asked about experiences you, the querent, as awakening spontaneity and curiosity. They sense freedom with you yet fear looking foolish. There’s excitement, attraction to risk, and uncertainty about direction. Emotion hovers between naïve hope and avoidance of responsibility.
The Magician:
They’re intrigued and alert in your presence—half-admiring, half-calculating. You inspire their creativity and desire to impress. They may test how real the connection is, shaping perception through charm. Feeling is mixed with self-control.
The High Priestess:
You’re a mystery they can’t decipher. They sense depth and silence that invites projection. Emotion feels private, even sacred, yet also distant. They wonder if you know more than you say—or if you see through them.
The Empress:
They feel warmth and sensual appreciation. You represent comfort, beauty, and abundance. Their feelings may blur into longing for nurture or admiration of your self-possession. Attraction here feels natural but could become complacent.
The Emperor:
Respect dominates; affection expresses as protection or control. They might admire your strength yet wish to define the terms. Feeling is restrained, filtered through duty or pride—security valued over vulnerability.
The Hierophant:
You evoke familiarity, trust, or tradition. They may see you as a guide, partner, or moral touchstone. Emotion forms through respect and expectation rather than passion. They wonder if stability outweighs freedom.
The Lovers:
Connection is undeniable—heart and choice entwined. They feel drawn and confronted at once, sensing that intimacy will change them. Emotion is alive but undecided; desire and conscience share the same breath.
The Chariot:
They feel compelled to move toward you yet fear losing control. You challenge their willpower. Emotion becomes a test of direction: pursuit versus restraint. Admiration tinged with competition.
Strength:
You soothe and steady them. They feel safe and slightly undone by your quiet power. Attraction arises from trust and curiosity about your composure. Their emotion deepens when they sense you won’t exploit it.
The Hermit:
They think of you often but from distance. You represent wisdom, introspection, or absence. Feeling is contemplative—perhaps loneliness mixed with respect. They may love the idea of you more than contact itself.
Wheel of Fortune:
You feel fated, unpredictable, cyclical. Their emotions rise and fall with circumstance. They sense possibility but little control. Hope alternates with resignation; connection feels larger than choice.
Justice:
They analyze rather than surrender. You make them weigh fairness, commitment, or consequence. Emotion is present yet measured, shaped by conscience. They seek equilibrium before vulnerability.
The Hanged Man:
You suspend them between feeling and inaction. They don’t know what to do but can’t detach. Emotion deepens through waiting; surrender may lead to clarity—or drift into passivity.
Death:
You mark an ending or irreversible change. Feelings linger as transformation rather than attachment. They may mourn, resist, or secretly hope for renewal. Emotion is intense, rarely comfortable.
Temperance:
They feel calmed by you. You bring balance after extremes. Emotion here is healing, cautious, integrating differences. Desire softens into harmony; attraction seeks longevity, not drama.
The Devil:
They feel trapped or magnetized. Desire is strong, unsettling, possibly obsessive. They sense pleasure mixed with loss of control. Emotion alternates between indulgence and shame, attraction and fear.
The Tower:
You disrupt their defenses. Feelings erupt suddenly—shock, revelation, liberation. They may blame you for upheaval or thank you for truth. Emotion raw, cleansing, but rarely simple.
The Star:
You represent hope and renewal. They feel inspired, gently optimistic, perhaps idealizing you. Emotion is tender, distant like starlight—guiding but not graspable. Healing rather than possession.
The Moon:
You stir uncertainty and fascination. They can’t separate imagination from reality. Emotion waxes and wanes, colored by fear, fantasy, intuition. They sense depth but question what’s true.
The Sun:
You make them feel open and alive. Joy, pride, and recognition fill their thoughts. Emotion here is uncomplicated warmth—though they might overlook subtler needs. Attraction through happiness.
Judgment:
They reflect on the past with you in mind. You evoke accountability, forgiveness, or a call to reconnect. Emotion is awakening—half guilt, half gratitude. Renewal possible, closure uncertain.
The World:
They see you as whole, accomplished, perhaps beyond reach. Emotion blends admiration with finality. You complete a chapter in their psyche; whether they return or move on depends on readiness for a new cycle.
THE MINOR ARCANA
The four suits together show the emotional spectrum of relationship questions:
- Wands: ignition and pursuit — the spark and struggle of desire.
- Cups: feeling and longing — the ebb and flow of connection.
- Swords: thought and tension — honesty tested by fear and distance.
- Pentacles: grounding and care — love as something built and sustained.
THE SUIT OF WANDS — Passion, Initiative, and the Dance of Pursuit
This suit speaks to attraction in motion—how desire seeks expression, recognition, and purpose. It reveals when warmth becomes impatience, when confidence masks insecurity, and when shared fire either fuels creation or burns too hot to hold.
Ace of Wands:
They feel a sudden ignition—a pulse of attraction or creative surge when they think of you. It may be physical, sexual, or simply vital energy seeking expression. Emotion flares with possibility: the thrill of being awakened, not yet knowing where it will lead.
Two of Wands:
Interest has formed but remains strategic. They picture possibilities, testing how you might fit into their future. Attraction is tempered by planning; enthusiasm meets hesitation. You live in their “what if,” not yet their “yes.”
Three of Wands:
They sense potential taking shape but still at a distance. Hope and expectation mix with patience. You may feel their attention without immediate action. Emotion is quietly confident, waiting for a sign that the connection will unfold.
Four of Wands:
Their feelings turn joyful and inclusive. They imagine celebration, belonging, or reunion. You represent warmth, acceptance, perhaps a vision of “home.” The mood is positive, though comfort may dull curiosity if taken for granted.
Five of Wands:
You stir both excitement and competition. They test boundaries, unsure whether play or conflict dominates. Attraction may express through teasing or argument. Beneath the noise lies a wish to stand out and be acknowledged by you.
Six of Wands:
They want to impress you—or be recognized by you. Emotion feels proud, performative, buoyed by attention. Admiration is genuine yet filtered through ego. If you applaud, they soar; if you don’t, they question their worth.
Seven of Wands:
They feel challenged or defensive around you. You push them to clarify what they truly want. Attraction survives through effort; fear of losing ground competes with longing. Emotion shows as resistance that secretly values the contest.
Eight of Wands:
Feelings accelerate—sudden messages, impulsive plans, an urge to close distance. You’re on their mind constantly. Excitement is real but may lack reflection. Whether this becomes love or burnout depends on timing and follow-through.
Nine of Wands:
They care but tread carefully. Past wounds make them guarded. You evoke both desire and fatigue; they want connection but fear repetition. Emotion endures quietly, testing if trust can outlast weariness.
Ten of Wands:
They feel burdened—by responsibility, secrecy, or the effort to keep feelings contained. Attraction persists but weighs heavy. They may love yet feel unable to carry the relationship further without relief or shared support.
Page of Wands:
Their interest is bright, youthful, and exploratory. They flirt through enthusiasm rather than depth. Emotion flickers—sincere in curiosity, untested by time. They wonder what adventure you might bring.
Knight of Wands:
They feel bold, restless, hungry for experience. You excite them, but patience is scarce. Emotion burns fast, often fading once pursuit turns to routine. Connection thrives on movement, not maintenance.
Queen of Wands:
They see you as magnetic and self-possessed. You awaken admiration mixed with awe. Emotion is confident but cautious—they want your light yet fear your discernment. Attraction rooted in respect and fascination.
King of Wands:
They view you as equal in strength and vision. Feelings come with ambition: they want partnership that expands both lives. Emotion is passionate, goal-oriented, occasionally dominating. Warmth remains if power stays balanced.
THE SUIT OF CUPS — Love, Longing, and the Emotional Mirror
Cups reveal how the heart moves—its tides of connection, nostalgia, fantasy, and loss. They show the inner weather of intimacy: when affection flows, when it stagnates, and when imagination replaces truth.
Ace of Cups:
They feel an opening of the heart—tender, hopeful, a swell of emotion that surprises them. This could be first love, renewal, or forgiveness. Feeling is genuine but fragile: it needs reciprocation to take form.
Two of Cups:
They sense harmony and mutuality. You mirror what they long for. Emotion feels balanced, affectionate, potentially romantic. It’s the desire to meet halfway, though equilibrium can tip quickly toward dependency or idealization.
Three of Cups:
Their feelings are friendly, playful, or social. They enjoy your company but may not define it as deep commitment. Emotion here is joyful and shared yet easily diffused by other interests or people.
Four of Cups:
They’ve withdrawn inward; affection lies dormant beneath introspection or fatigue. They may care yet feel uninspired. Emotion is muted—not gone, just numbed by uncertainty or overthinking.
Five of Cups:
Regret colors their heart. They replay what’s been lost or unsaid. Emotion turns toward sorrow and self-reproach, but healing waits in the background. They can’t see what still remains until they lift their gaze.
Six of Cups:
You evoke nostalgia, comfort, and innocence. They feel warmth rooted in memory rather than current reality. Emotion is sincere but filtered through longing for simpler times or what once felt safe.
Seven of Cups:
They’re caught between fantasies—many emotions, little clarity. You may inhabit their dreams more than their plans. Attraction is strong yet unstable, shaped by projection and wishful thinking.
Eight of Cups:
They feel distance growing within themselves. Caring persists, but something essential feels absent. Emotion withdraws not from indifference but from searching for deeper meaning. Departure here is contemplative, not cruel.
Nine of Cups:
You please them; you satisfy a personal wish. Emotion is contented yet self-referential—they enjoy how they feel around you more than they explore who you are. Pleasure dominates sincerity; fulfillment may plateau.
Ten of Cups:
They imagine emotional completeness with you. You represent shared happiness, family, or enduring love. Feeling here is idealized, sometimes utopian. Reality may not yet have tested the dream.
Page of Cups:
Their affection is tender, uncertain, and easily startled. They may reach out with shy curiosity or creative gestures. Emotion is exploratory, youthful, open to wonder but vulnerable to misunderstanding.
Knight of Cups:
They’re drawn to you through romance and imagination. Feeling is genuine yet shaped by ideals of love more than its realities. They pursue beauty and connection but may drift if disillusioned.
Queen of Cups:
Their emotions toward you are deep, receptive, and intuitive. They feel seen at the level of soul but fear exposure. Sensitivity runs high; they respond to your moods more than to words. Love here listens more than speaks.
King of Cups:
They care with maturity and restraint. Emotion flows beneath calm surface—stable, protective, occasionally distant. They balance affection with control; sincerity is strong, expression subtle.
THE SUIT OF SWORDS — Thought, Tension, and Truth Under Pressure
Swords trace how intellect cuts through emotion: where honesty, fear, or conflict exposes what the heart prefers to hide.
Ace of Swords:
They’re thinking sharply, seeking clarity about you. A realization—pleasant or painful—has pierced confusion. Emotion is filtered through logic; they need truth before trust.
Two of Swords:
They’re conflicted and avoid deciding. You stir emotions they can’t reconcile with reason. Their heart waits behind mental defenses. Peace on the surface conceals tension.
Three of Swords:
Their feelings ache; separation or misunderstanding cuts deeply. They may relive words that hurt or fear repeating old wounds. Emotion is raw but honest.
Four of Swords:
They’ve retreated to recover. Emotion lies dormant, resting after conflict or exhaustion. They think of you quietly but resist re-engagement.
Five of Swords:
They recall arguments or power struggles. Pride mixes with guilt. They may feel they “won” but lost connection. Emotion is defensive, circling regret.
Six of Swords:
Their thoughts drift toward calm and distance. They may wish to resolve things or simply move on. Emotion is subdued—tender but practical.
Seven of Swords:
They hide feelings behind strategy. Something about you makes them cautious or self-protective. Attraction exists but is masked by calculation.
Eight of Swords:
They feel trapped—by circumstance or overthinking. You occupy their mind, yet they see no safe move. Emotion is anxious, not indifferent.
Nine of Swords:
You haunt their thoughts. Worry, shame, or imagined loss keeps them awake. Emotion is obsessive, looping through “what ifs.”
Ten of Swords:
They believe something between you has ended. Emotion collapses under exhaustion yet releases tension: a strange peace after heartbreak.
Page of Swords:
They’re curious, observant, a little guarded. You’re often in their thoughts, but they approach indirectly—watching, questioning.
Knight of Swords:
Their feelings express through urgency. They want to speak truth or defend a position. Emotion and intellect race together; patience is scarce.
Queen of Swords:
They see you—or themselves—as discerning and self-reliant. Affection exists beneath analysis, restrained by caution.
King of Swords:
They think rather than feel, weighing facts before sentiment. You prompt respect, not impulsive warmth. Emotion is measured, loyal, understated.
THE SUIT OF PENTACLES — Security, Value, and the Material Language of Care
Pentacles translate emotion into tangible form—what love looks like when expressed through patience, effort, and daily gesture.
Ace of Pentacles:
They sense something real could grow with you. Feeling is practical yet hopeful—a seed of trust. You awaken a wish to invest slowly, to see if emotion can take root in reality.
Two of Pentacles:
They’re juggling feelings and priorities. You matter, but life pulls them in competing directions. Emotion is adaptable but scattered.
Three of Pentacles:
They think of partnership as shared work. You inspire cooperation and respect. Emotion shows through effort: showing up, contributing, building.
Four of Pentacles:
They hold back or hold on. Possession and protection mingle. The clasped coins reveal fear beneath affection—a wish to keep control.
Five of Pentacles:
They feel left out or fearful of rejection. Emotion persists through hardship; it seeks warmth in the cold.
Six of Pentacles:
They think about balance—who gives, who receives. Emotion takes the shape of fairness; generosity mixes with pride.
Seven of Pentacles:
They pause to evaluate what’s grown. You’re part of their long-term reflections. Emotion feels patient yet uncertain.
Eight of Pentacles:
They show care through diligence. You motivate focus or reliability. Emotion expressed in doing rather than words.
Nine of Pentacles:
They admire your independence. Emotion is tinged with awe and distance. They find your self-sufficiency beautiful yet intimidating.
Ten of Pentacles:
They imagine permanence: shared home, family, legacy. Emotion grounded in belonging and continuity.
Page of Pentacles:
They feel earnest curiosity—a wish to understand and prove themselves. Emotion is sincere and careful.
Knight of Pentacles:
They feel steadily devoted but slow to reveal it. Reliability defines their affection; emotion grows through trust.
Queen of Pentacles:
They see you as nurturing and grounded. Feeling is affectionate, sensual in quiet ways. Love manifests through care and steadiness.
King of Pentacles:
They think of you with admiration and desire for stability. Emotion is loyal and protective—devotion expressed through tangible support.
CLOSING REFLECTION
Read side by side, these interpretations offer not fixed answers but a moving landscape of human need: attraction seeking safety, mind negotiating heart, spirit anchoring in form.
Experiment. There is so much more that can be expressed by each card.
Created by Mary K. Greer and ChatGPT, 2025. Make of it what you will.
What is a “transparent reading style” in tarot? I use this term to describe one element of what I do in a reading. First, it is a continuum and not an absolute. Essentially, it is including acknowledgement of where/how I’m getting information and meaning from the cards and from my interaction with the querent.
You might say it is anti-magic, except that I’m really all about magic. So I might even point out what I perceive as moments of magic. Basically, I’ll tell someone when and how their body language or something they said has clued me in to a facet of the reading. I might note that their observation about a card is contradictory to the traditional meaning and then ask them to explore how their contradiction or both are true. I might get a sense of something not in the cards and will make clear I don’t know where it is coming from. Or I will ‘trick’ someone into their personal realization and then let them know what I just did.
I find that briefly revealing my own “perception bias,” for instance a choice I naturally gravitate towards, lifestyle beliefs, or a knee-jerk reaction on my part is important. By briefly mentioning my own bias it helps me let go of that thought. It somehow relieves me of any urges that bias carries so I can be fully present to the querent’s needs and situation.
I want the client to be able to see through the wizard’s curtain (as in Oz) so that the illusion of power doesn’t stick to me, so that the querent can see me as a temporary companion on their journey and can begin to trust their own insights and volition more.
Of course I keep these transparencies minimal to not get in the way of the importance of the reading itself. And I want to keep the focus on the client and not on me.
How transparent are you in a reading? Do you assume that the cards are all-knowing? Do you assume an aura of importance to lend credence to your intuitions? Does it even help a client to pull back the curtain? Or does it make the experience less significant to a client? I admit my transparency doesn’t always work for some clients, especially those who want surety.
What do you think and do in relation to this concept? How transparent are you as a reader?
I try to keep abreast of Tarot as it appears in fiction but somehow I missed this one: The Holy by Daniel Quinn (2002). The entire book is the playing out of a Tarot reading, made explicit by full-page illustrations of Rider-Waite-Smith cards that introduce book sections.
The central what if is, “What if the God of the Bible was not the only God, and what if the “false gods” referred to in the ten commandments actually exist?” We can extend this to ask the questions: Who are they? and What do they want?—questions the author leaves only partially answered.
This is a Fool’s journey, cross country, undertaken by several different people, at first independently and then with converging stories, all foreseen in the Tarot reading that becomes explicit only as the tale evolves. Quinn is known for his philosophical novels, starting with the highly regarded Ishmael, for which he won the half-million dollar Turner Tomorrow Fellowship. Quinn is an original thinker whose process has been described as “seeing through the myths of this culture” or “ripping away the shades so that people can have a clear look at history and what we’re doing to the world.” It’s interesting that despite the centrality of the Tarot reading and Tarot illustrations in this book, the Tarot content is hardly ever mentioned and never discussed in the reviews I’ve read.
Synopsis: Sixty-plus year-old private detective Howard Scheim is hired by an acquaintance to discover if the “false gods” of the Bible really exist. In agreeing to discover if he can even undertake such an inquiry he interviews several people including a journalist, a tarot reader, a clairvoyant and a Satanist. Meanwhile the Kennesey family is undergoing upheaval as husband David decides to walk away from his job, his wife and his 12-year old son, Tim. Tim and his mother go searching for David and, when Tim becomes accidentally separated from his mother, Howard stumbles upon him and offers to help Tim find her. As it turns out both David and his son Tim are being courted by amoral, non-human “others” who plan to “wake up” humanity because their blindness is creating havoc. These “others,” who refuse to define themselves, are trickster beings, neither evil nor benevolent, who have existed far longer than homo sapiens. They have been known to enchant those humans who look to the physical world rather than to a transcendent being to benefit them.
The Celtic Cross Tarot reading shows Quinn to be knowledgeable about Tarot consulting. References to people named Case (P.F. Case authored an influential Tarot book) and John Dee (magician to Elizabeth I), as well as a road named Morning Star Path (a Golden Dawn offshoot was called the “Stella Matutina” or morning star) makes it clear that Quinn is referencing modern occult lore.
Tarot reader Denise starts by explaining that the first card in Howard’s reading indicates the predominant influence in the subject’s life. Howard draws the Seven of Swords and Denise asks Howard to tell her what it is about, explaining this is not her usual way of working but, “If I proceed normally, you’ll think I’m slanting it.”
He describes a thief stealing swords for a battle who has overlooked something (two swords left behind).” Denise summarizes it: “You’re getting ready for a battle and you’re overestimating your own cleverness and underestimating the strength of your enemy. You’re overconfident and you think you can’t be hurt in the enterprise you’ve planned. . . . The reading will center on the conflict you’re preparing for.”
The Seven of Swords is crossed by the Two of Pentacles: “The pentacles represent grave extremes: the beginning and the end, life and deah, infinite past and the infinite future, good and evil. Nevertheless, the young man is dancing.” Denise says he takes the situation too lightly.
The card above him is the Eight of Cups: “At best, you can hope for a strange journey, an adventure into darkness.”
The frontispiece illustration is that of the Seven of Cups, appearing in the reading in the environment position: “A man is disconcerted by an array of tantalizing apparitions of love, mystery, danger, riches, fame, and evil. Illusions will bedevil you. You’ll be pulled in many directions, and your choices will be confused.” Perhaps this is the underlying theme of not only this book but other works by Daniel Quinn: Humankind is bedeviled by the illusions of culture and civilization so that our choices are confused, centering on all the wrong things. Quinn has one of the characters quote Plato’s The Republic: “Whatever deceives can be said to enchant.” Adding, “Anyone who shakes off the deception shakes off the enchantment as well – and ceases to be one of you [a homo sapien].” The Holy, p. 260.
I’ve left out most of the interplay about the cards, and I won’t reveal more of the story as I hope you will explore this book for yourselves.
I no longer update this post, but you’ll find a lot of old information about Tarot in movies and Tarot on TV. Please post in the comments when you see one so we can keep a running list in the comments. The more info the better.
See especially Richard Kaczynski’s wonderful list of Thoth Sightings in film and TV.
TV
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Is there any “true” way to lay the cards? Probably not. But here is the first tarot spread to appear in print. It is in an article by le Comte de M*** (Mellet) in Court de Gébelin’s Le Monde Primitif (1781). The spread instructions were followed by a sample interpretation—the dream of Joseph in the Bible. I decided that such a simple but powerful layout deserves to be brought back “into play.” Try it out for yourself.
The layout is best accomplished by two people working together, who have divided the deck into two stacks so that each has one of them:
Person 1 — the 56 Minor Arcana
Person 2 — the 22 Trumps (Major Arcana).
Each person takes their stack, shuffles it, and then simultaneously goes through the stacks card-by-card as follows:
Person 1: Turns the cards of the Minor Arcana over one-by-one while counting Ace, 2, 3, 4, … Page, Knight, Queen, King (use the court card names from your own deck), and continue counting with the Ace. Any card which has the same number or rank as that named is to be set aside. That is, if when counting 5, you turn over a 5 of any suit, that card is selected and put to the side.
Person 2: Goes through the Trumps at the same time, putting down a card each time Person 1 does so, but without turning it over. When Person 1 puts a card aside (because the number and the card matched), Person 2 takes the card he/she put down at the same time and turns it face up next to Person 1’s card to form a pair. When Person 2 has gone through all the Trumps, he/she picks up the reject stack and continues to put them down in the now-reversed order.
The process ends when Person 1 runs out of Minor Arcana cards.
Interpret the resulting cards as pairs.
For example, in the first reading I did with this spread, the result of the count was:
Ace of Pentacles — Lovers
Ace of Cups — Sun
Three of Cups — Death
Knight of Wands — Star
These cards had an incredible feeling of power about them. My partner in the reading immediately said, “It’s all about the deaths!” and I realized he was right. We had just found out about the deaths of three people we knew (Three of Cups plus Death). Three incredible people—each making the transition (Knight of Wands) to another world in their own way. They were being shown to us as Beings of Light (the Sun) starting a new phase of existence (the two Aces). I was awed by the beauty of their souls that radiated out from these cards as if reborn in the spirit (the Sun). It was good to feel that they were with loved ones (Three of Cups and Lovers), and it seemed to me that they were riding (Knight of Wands) towards their highest destiny (Star). I took it as a message to us from the other side, saying that they were all right and just where they should be. (Deck: The Albano-Waite Miniature Tarot Cards.)




Old Gypsy Fortune Telling Cards from United Novelty, Mfc Company, Chicago, circa 1920-30 are a 36-card deck with playing cards inset and meanings given on each card. The instructions are in Polish and English and the Lady (significator) is clearly dressed as a 1920s flapper. At least 22 of the 36 cards are close cognates with the Lenormand cards. A few of the other card images are found on other cartomancy decks of the period. See this
Two years after Morton Neumann started Valmor he married Rose and then 

The Old Gypsy Cards Fortune Telling Game from Addison Products Co, Chicago (no-date – 1940s?) is an identical deck, also with instructions in English and Polish. Looking similar to the Gypsy Witch, and with elements appearing in Whitman’s “Old Gypsy” deck, this deck has its own assignation of playing cards such that the suits & numbers appear in sequence according to the numbering of the cards, and they accord most closely with the usual French and English playing card meanings. While most of the deck includes Lenormand-like cards there are also unique ones like 23-A Beautiful Lady, 27-The Bacchanalian, 29-The Loving Couple, 31-The Fairy, 32-The Shepherd, 11-The Dancing Persons. Cards like 20-the Horseshoe, 30-The Eye and 35-The Duel are found in other “gypsy” decks that I talk about 













17th century – German Proverb decks
Quite a few old German decks featuring proverbs and sayings that must have been used for obtaining advice and prognostication of how a situation would progress. The suits consist of Green Leaves (Spades), Red Hearts (Hearts), Yellow Bells (Diamonds) and Black Acorns (Clubs). Acorns (Clubs) are generally the worst suit, while the Green Leaves (Spades) are the best suit.
















1791 – Every Lady’s Own Fortune Teller
1790 to mid 19th century – The Career of Mlle. Lenormand
Tawny Rachel, or The Fortune Teller; With some Accounts of Dreams, Omens and Conjurers








1838 – Julia Orsini


Never as ubiquitous as dice, palmistry or astrology, divination with cards goes back to at least the 16th century and probably earlier, though the form may not have been what we now call cartomancy, which emerged more recognizably in the 18th century. We can see from all the above that historically card divination was practiced mostly by illiterate gypsies, courtesans, soldier’s wives and old women, and by literate young women for whom it was a parlour game. It was largely scorned by men and more often officially ignored by legislation, until the stakes got higher. With the exception of Madame Lenormand’s fame, it wasn’t until a few men deemed the art worth mentioning and the decks or books worth writing that it was really acknowledged. Still, it was not to be taken too seriously and generally kept to the confines of frivolous social entertainment, yet all the while there was an underground of mostly older women who made a good, if precarious, living out of various forms of divination. (Out of more than 400 pre-1900 pictures I’ve found of cartomancers less than a dozen have been of male readers and most of them are making fun of the practice.) A. E. Waite integrated Chambers’ soldier’s wives card meanings into many of his Minor Arcana tarot interpretations, where they are still in use today.


Mary K. Greer has made tarot her life work. Check here for reports of goings-on in the world of tarot and cartomancy, articles on the history and practice of tarot, and materials on other cartomancy decks. Sorry, I no longer write reviews. Contact me
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