The term, “Dramatic Irony,” is used to refer to those times when the reader, or viewer, sees more about what is going on than the character in the story, on stage, in the movie, or show.
The ubiquity of the internets have rendered most of my fancy books all but useless, the two or three copies of literary definitions, for example. Just faster to build a link, for, say, dramatic irony.
Faster to build a link rather than look it up in a book.
So the term means the audience, usually the person reading the material, or, in my case, the client, that person is treated to what the characters are doing, with a foreknowledge of the actions, outcomes, plots, sub-plots, all before anything happens. The audience knows it before the character knows it.
With my astrology readings, what I try to do is help move from hapless player to informed audience member. Instead of being a character batted around by planetary energies, bereft of a clue? Join me in the audience, looking on, a scene tinged with dramatic irony.
Know when, know how, know why. It all gets down to basic symbolism. I help make sense of that.
An ongoing project for the near future is a personal compendium of “Astrology Transits,” delineated in my own, acerbic wit.
We’ll see how that works out.
Dramatic irony, huh.
“The Dramatic Irony — Planning and Prognostication with Astrology Transits: Your Future, Now.”
Breakfast in El Paso:
Flying out of El Paso, TX, last time, the last time I aim to wear shoes for the foreseeable future, I had on dark jeans, boots, black sport coat, and a black t-shirt with a simple logo, Atomic Tattoo. Stopped and got a good shine on the boots, at the airport. The Atomic Tattoo emblazoned on my chest.
I don’t have any ink. Not dramatic irony, just funny, you know, ironic.