Notes

How a horoscope is computed — the astronomy, and where the writing comes from

A horoscope has two halves, usually served as one dish. The first is arithmetic: where the sun, the moon and the eastern horizon stood at a given instant, seen from a given place on the earth. That half is computed, carries a stated error, and can be checked against any other ephemeris. The second is what a sign is said to mean. That half is not computed at all — it is inherited, and here it is written by an AI. What follows describes both, and marks the seam between them.

An ephemeris was a book

The word is Greek: ephemeris, a daily record. For most of its history the thing itself was a physical book — a table giving the position of each visible body, day by day, a year ahead. Babylonian scribes kept such tables in cuneiform, centuries before Ptolemy gathered the method into the Almagest.

Printing made them ordinary. Regiomontanus issued ephemerides in the 1470s; navigators later worked from the Nautical Almanac, begun in the 1760s so that longitude could be found at sea. Astronomers and astrologers read the same columns for centuries. This site does the same work with the book removed: positions are computed on request rather than printed a year in advance.

Three numbers, and how wrong each can be

The sun’s ecliptic longitude comes from the NOAA low-precision formula, good to about ±0.01°. Sign boundaries follow from it directly, longitude divided by 30°. The sun covers roughly one degree a day, so a hundredth of a degree is about a quarter of an hour of its motion. That is the whole width of the uncertainty in a sun sign.

The moon’s longitude comes from a truncated ELP2000 series, the principal periodic terms, carrying about ±0.2°. The moon moves half a degree an hour, so that tolerance is some twenty minutes wide: narrow enough to place a sign on an ordinary day, wide enough to matter beside a crossing, and the reason a birth near a lunar boundary is reported as a boundary.

The ascendant is the fastest of the three. It advances one degree every four minutes, a whole sign in roughly two hours, so it requires a place as well as a time where the other two do not; the derivation is set out at /rising-sign. The offset in force at that place on that date is read from the IANA time zone database and evaluated at the birth instant rather than by today’s rule. An hour of error there is 15° of ascendant.

Why the error bars are published

A number given without a tolerance is a claim rather than a measurement. Every ephemeris ever made is an infinite series cut short somewhere; the only questions are where the cut falls and whether anyone admits to it. Stating ±0.2° is not modesty. It is the specification.

A tolerance also says when the answer is safe. Most births fall nowhere near a boundary, and there the figure is invisible — the sign would hold at ten times the error. For the few that land in the half hour beside a cusp it is the entire story, and a site that hides it is guessing on the reader’s behalf. Every degree here is set in monospace so that it can be laid beside another ephemeris; if the two disagree, the error is this site’s.

Three positions, and no others

Three positions are computed here: the sun, the moon and the ascendant. No other planets, no houses, no aspects — and therefore nothing written about any of them. A full natal chart takes ten bodies and a house system, which is outside what this site calculates, and a version that looked right without being right would be worse than the omission.

The boundary is drawn on purpose rather than left standing as work in progress, for a plain reason. Each of these three can be derived from published astronomy with an error that can be written down, and an error that can be written down is one a reader can check. Houses and aspects would look more expert while making the page less verifiable — persuasion resting on the part of the work nobody can inspect.

The half that is inherited

No formula yields the sentence that Libra weighs both sides before it moves. That is not a measurement of anything. It is an inherited vocabulary, some two thousand years old: assembled in the Hellenistic world, codified in Ptolemy’s Tetrabiblos, carried through Arabic and medieval Latin astrology, revived for a mass readership in the nineteenth century.

This half is not falsifiable and should not be dressed as though it were. Precision in the astronomy does not transfer to the interpretation: a longitude known to a hundredth of a degree does not make the paragraph beneath it truer, only certain to be about the right sign. What the tradition offers is a set of images to think against, which is a different use from prediction. Nothing here is a statement of fact about what is going to happen.

The prose is written by an AI

Plainly: the readings and the daily horoscopes are written by Claude, Anthropic’s language model, working in the astrological tradition and in this site’s house style. The astronomy is not generated. Nobody asks a model where the moon was — that is what the formula is for, and the two are kept apart deliberately.

What it changes: no person has sat with a set of birth data and composed something by hand. It changes the economics too, which is why the rising sign, moon sign and zodiac date tools are free and need no account. Writing at that price is possible because the writing is cheap, and pretending otherwise would be the real dishonesty.

What it does not change: the tradition drawn on is the same one a newspaper column draws on, and that writer had never met the reader either; and the number underneath remains checkable, which is the part that can be audited at all.

The method in full