Lost in the Fog: The Moon and Our Collective Illusions

Lost in the Fog: The Moon and Our Collective Illusions

If The Tower was the explosion, The Moon is the smoke that follows—thick, disorienting, and full of shifting shadows. We know something has changed, but we can’t quite see what’s ahead. The U.S. is deep in a Moon moment right now.

But if we’re honest, we’ve been here for a long time.

The Moon is the energy of illusion—of carefully crafted realities designed to keep us disoriented. It’s not a single lie but a slow distortion of truth, shaping the way we see the world until we no longer trust our own instincts. And for generations, this is exactly what has happened.

Most of us were born into The Moon, inheriting a world where the only light we had was artificial—offered to us by institutions, media, and leaders who claimed to be guiding us but were really just leading us deeper into the fog. And we followed because, in the dark, you cling to whatever light you can find.

The Overton Window didn’t shift overnight. The radicalization of politics didn’t happen in a single election. The way we talk about race, gender, sexuality, class, war, freedom—none of it was an accident. It was all shaped by those who understood The Moon’s power: the power of illusion, of slow manipulation, of making the unacceptable seem reasonable and the reasonable seem extreme.

For example, look at how economic policies once seen as fringe—like trickle-down economics—became mainstream despite decades of evidence that they only benefit the wealthy. Or how mass surveillance, once the stuff of dystopian fiction, was slowly introduced under the guise of security until privacy became a luxury instead of a right. The Overton Window also shifted in social policies: what was once considered radical, like universal healthcare, is now framed as unrealistic, while ideas that were once unthinkable—such as book bans and rolling back civil rights—are being rebranded as "common sense."

And here’s the uncomfortable truth: it’s not just "them." We all followed false lights. No matter what side of the aisle you’re on, you were led here by narratives designed to keep you in line.

For the right, the light came in the form of patriotism, faith, and tradition—messages that wrapped nationalism in the language of morality. The Christian right was courted into politics under the guise of “family values” while behind the scenes, those same politicians were stripping families of healthcare, housing, and education. “Law and order” was sold as a noble cause while it functioned as a dog whistle for racial oppression. But the left didn’t escape The Moon’s illusions either.

In recent years, identity politics has become its own distortion. Instead of focusing on real issues—like economic inequality or healthcare reform—the right has been swept into a manufactured panic over “identity,” particularly around trans rights and children’s bathrooms. What started as a "genuine concern" for safety has been twisted into something far more sinister: a moral panic about who belongs where, who gets to decide their own identity, and who is truly “protected.” Now, we have people waving the flag of “safety” while pushing harmful policies under the guise of defending children, all while obscuring the deeper issues they’re really working to advance, and it isn't free lunches for your little learners.

But here’s the kicker: The left was played, too.

While the right kept us distracted by moral panics over trans rights and other cultural issues, the left got swept into their own version of identity politics. And, much like the right, many were sidetracked from the real issues at hand. Progress on trans rights, racial justice, gender equality—these are all worthy fights, but what was happening in the background? While we were fighting for protections and equal rights, the right was busy pushing through deregulations, tax cuts for the wealthy, and policies that further concentrated power in the hands of the few.

Both sides were focused on their own shiny objects while the real agenda—the one that harms us all—moved forward unchecked. The issues were different, but the manipulation was the same.

This is how The Moon works. It doesn’t just create division—it creates disorientation. It makes people so overwhelmed by conflicting realities that they become desperate for something—anything—to believe in. And when people are desperate, they are easy to manipulate.

This week, we got a real-time demonstration of The Moon’s illusions at work: the staged meeting between Trump, Vance, and Zelensky. From the outside, it was presented as a show of strength—an orchestrated moment where the two American politicians controlled the optics, selecting press that would focus on the trivial (Zelensky’s clothing) while they postured about leadership and foreign policy.

But in reality? It exposed their weakness.

Rather than demonstrating power, the scene highlighted insecurity. The hand-picked media’s attempt to diminish Zelensky—pressuring him over aesthetics rather than substance—wasn’t the move of confident leaders. It was the move of men desperate to control the narrative, hoping that by shifting attention to the trivial, they could avoid scrutiny themselves.

And then came the real shadow side of The Moon: Trump’s veiled attempt to push Zelensky toward surrender. A classic manipulation tactic—pressure, distort, reframe, and hope the target loses clarity in the fog. It was a political version of an abusive family dynamic: gaslighting the victim while pretending to extend a hand.

But just like The Moon card warns, illusions don’t hold up forever. The cracks are showing. The posturing didn’t make them look strong—it made them look small. And in the process, they reminded us exactly why we need to learn to see through the fog.

This is why so many still cling to the illusions, even when the cracks are obvious. Because if you let go of the only light you’ve ever known, what’s left?

The answer isn’t easy, but it is simple: you learn to see in the dark.

You stop looking for saviors. You stop believing that the next election, the next law, the next leader will fix it all. You start questioning not just the lies that were told to them but the lies that were told to you.

And that kind of clarity is terrifying—to governments, to corporations, to the people who benefit from you staying confused. But it’s also liberating. Because The Moon isn’t just about deception—it’s about the moment before truth. It’s the space between the illusion and the revelation.

And when enough people stop following false lights, the fog lifts.

We’re not there yet. The disillusionment is heavy. But we are in it now.

Because after The Moon comes The Sun.

And that changes everything.

With a little lamp in the fog,
Mia Marie