Horoscopes by the Fishing Guide to the Stars starting 10.24

“Like a dull actor
I have forgot my part, and I am out
Even to full disgrace”

Coriolanus in Shakespeare’s Coriolanus (V.iii.40-1)

Scorpio: I love this. I was prepared. As an observant Scorpio, you should’ve been prepared, too. Were you? If you were aware of this Mercury Retrograde, in Scorpio, then you’re with me, and we can laugh at the foibles, follies, and misbegotten missives, going on around us. It’s fun. It’s weird. It’s a strange time. Despite the warnings, there’s going to be one piece of reality that will come a-calling. It looks like a huge dose of reality, sitting squarely in your way. Impedes any kind of good, forward Scorpio progress. Here’s an idea, I mean, you and I both know that Mercury is Retrograde, right? Instead of running headlong into this apparent obstacle, that thing which blocks our way? Stop.

Look around. Maybe, let’s see if we can break that bigger problem down to smaller, bite-sized problem. Something easier for a Scorpio to chew through.

Sagittarius: Feeling your way along, my fine Sagittarius brethren and sistren? Lot of that going around, at this moment. It’s a little weirder than usual, now isn’t it? Part of this is Saturn in Scorpio, but more of it is that pesky Mercury Pattern.

What can be done? Simple solution.

Borrowed from Shakespeare, the final lines of Midsummer’s Night’s Dream, as Puck suggests that the spirits, sprites, goblins and various other hooligans of the night didn’t mean to offend anyone. “If we stepped on your toes, hey, ‘sorry!'” Simple as that. Sure as can be, I will offend someone this week. I’m Sagittarius. I’m pretty sure your Sagittarius parts will — inadvertently — offend someone this week. I’d have a “I’m sorry” spooled up and ready, just in case.

If we shadows have offended
Think but this, and all is mended,
That you have but slumb’red here
While these visions did appear.

Puck in Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream (V.i.423-26)

Capricorn: This is a hellish kind of Mercury Retrograde pattern. Not really that bad, but yes, there’s a certain kind of hell associated with this. It’s the right word, at the wrong time. It’s the wrong word, at the right time. It’s the best possible answer, at the worst possible time. It’s the worst answer, at the best time. Your “coefficient of suck” depends on how well you prepared. I had some old stew meat, left over, I’m pretty sure, from last year’s hunting season. Meat must be close to a year old. Frozen solid. I tossed it into the stew pan to make chili. Think it was venison, from a buddy’s deer lease. Not really sure. I let it simmer for two hours. Still tough and gamey as ever. Problem being, I was fixing dinner for that night. So it was tough; it needed way more peppers and maybe an overnight on the stove, to simmer and break down that tough meat. All depends. Instead, I was stuck chewing the tough stuff. Tasty, but kind of hard. Lack of preparation. See what I mean about Mercury?

Aquarius: For years and years, I’ve shopped at one warehouse store. Certain items, I can buy in bulk, like paper goods and food items, bottled water and the ilk. Warehouse stores, lacking retail ambiance, yet remarkably profitable, no doubt, due to volume and ease of distribution.

However, over the years, one chain started to get an ugly reputation, and I gradually shifted my business to another warehouse chain. One neighbor swears the meat is better, too. What I’ve heard, first-hand from clients, is that the one chain, not a leader, that loser group treats the employees much, much better. Don’t know. I don’t work there. I can’t say. There seems to be a small, but significant difference. The one chain — the one I now prefer — underdogs. But underdogs tend to work harder, do more, sometimes for a little less. The secret to not letting this Mercury Retrograde ruin everything? Look for the underdogs. I hear they treat Aquarius better.

Pisces: I was wandering in a parking lot, big super big-box store’s parking lot. I’d mention the brand but they are all about the same, two-three acres of parking lot and a showroom the size of an aircraft hangar. I measured one big-box store, and it was a quarter-mile on each side, just huge. This was in the parking lot, hot day in the fall, typical South Texas weather, hotter than some would like.

I parked in the shaded spot, about hundred meters, or more, from the front doors. Not the closest spot, but the only verifiable shade. Old habit bred from hot summers in Austin. I wandered off towards the front door. A little car was pulling out from behind a typical, over-sized truck. Blindly inching its way out, the little car backed up, bit by bit. Another truck was coming down the aisle. Lane. Parking row. The driver could see the little car, could see that the little car was blind, and the little car was going to back right into the oncoming vehicle.

As a Pisces, with Mercury where he is, which one are you? Blindly backing up, headed for destruction, or, at least, a rather inconvenient fender realignment? Or are you coming the other way, and you can avoid this, if you slow down, act polite, or just stop and let the blind car pass?

Aries: Always love it when someone looks at a situation and calls it “Karma.” Sort of blank, useful cover-all, isn’t it? “It, must be, like, karma, man.” Karma as a verb rather than a noun? Or as an adjective? Wait, I think that’s the adverb form. Never mind, this isn’t about parts of speech, it’s about the effect of Saturn and Mercury in Scorpio, with the Mercury Retrograde, and the inherent confusion. Ensuing mayhem. I used to call this “Mercury Mayhem,” and I thought it was would be a good title to a book, but I settled on The Portable Mercury Retrograde for mine. Guidelines for Mercury? It’s in the book.

Call it what you want, but there is a force greater than your Aries self, and it’s going to highlight, enumerate and otherwise call your Aries attention to one problem. With Mercury like this? Probably get to the root of the situation you thought you’d forgotten about. Or that you sort of patched. The patch didn’t hold. Time to look at the root of the problem. Address the core issue.

Taurus: “You keep telling me to stop.” Sound, reasoned logical advice from a guy who might, or might not be, sound. Seasoned? Sure. Logical? Not always. So here’s the new idea, you’re going to make a Taurus missteps the next few days. Can’t stop that. Chances are, with Retrograde Mercury and Saturn opposite you, on the great wheel in the sky, yes, chances are you’ll make a mistake.

Mars is in a compatible sign for Taurus. Use that Martian-like quickness to overcome the small mistake. Straight-up, this is a numbers game. Right, then wrong, then right. Keep the numbers up, or, as one person would admonish me, keep the (organic male bovine byproduct) flowing.

Gemini: The trick is, don’t get mad. I’ve warned you about this Mercury Retrograde stuff in the past. Warnings still apply. One Gemini buddy was worried this was going to last forever. It’s a couple of weeks, and the problem with ire, rage, and proper Gemini anger management? That’s the key element this time around. You can get mad. I prefer to get even, and prefer to wait a little while to do so.

That same Gemini buddy? The ultimate payback? Ex-girlfriend calls him up, and she’s barefoot, pregnant (again), and living in a small trailer at the outskirts of a town, maybe two, three towns over. He’s free; she’s miserable.

The trick? Her number pops up on the caller ID? Don’t get mad at the way she cheated and left, not in that order? Wait long enough to hear the whole, sad tale.

It happens, more often, if you’ll not get mad too soon. (Mad Mars versus Mercury in Retrograde.)

Cancer: The problem? Motor Mouth.

The solution? Truthfully, there isn’t one. I’d tell you to shut up, or STFU, but I’m afraid my advice is falling on deaf ears. Not normally deaf, but at this point in time, you’re letting yourself run off at the mouth and that’s causing verbal diarrhea.

We’ve all been around a friend who’s been “over served” in adult libations, and keep trying to ineffectually make a point.

The (mighty) Leo: Read the label.

Read the list of ingredients. Ever wonder why the list of ingredients is so small? The manufacturer doesn’t want you to see what goes in it. There’s one persistent rumor that “Cool Whip” has petroleum in it. One online journalist did take apart the label, chemical by chemical and prove that there was some kind of oil-based material present in “Cool Whip,” the original non-diary diary whip topping. I can’t validate that claim, about the brand of “Cool Whip.” I’m also not willing to dig up the article, it’s accusations, hypothesis and refutations by the corporate conglomerate that owns the brand. I’m sure that the details are covered by the fine print, someplace else. This isn’t about whether or not petroleum is in your Leo food. This is about reading the information label, usually provided for you, on the back of the package. Read the label. Mercury, remember him? Backwards? Can’t trust anyone but your own, Leo senses.

Read the label.

For example? This company, just two people, read the ingredients, i.e., read the label.

Virgo: There’s always the new guy. Shop, office, corporations, just about any organization. One place I worked, I was the new guy the whole year I was there. Another place, they thought I was the new guy, only, I had more experience than the boss. I tended to act dumb, as that helped make matters go easier. This is a good week to pretend you’re the new guy. There will be some good-natured hazing. A little test to see if you’re sincere. You’re Virgo, of course you’re sincere! Perhaps there’s situation where someone has to tell you just how it’s done, since, as the new guy, you obviously won’t know how to do it.

Just go with it. Let it slide. As a Virgo person with a Virgo brain, you’ll be watching the demonstration, and you’ll be figuring out ways to make this run better.

Libra: When I’m out, like, at a breakfast diner, or something? Years on the road has taught me the measure of a good diner is, “Eggs, over easy.” When I’m home? I won’t prepare my eggs like that. Scrambled. Hard. Dead, cooked through and through. The “Eggs over easy,” that’s kind of a test to see how good the place is, how good the short order cook is. Test, just a test, and not a huge one, but after so much time hauling myself from town to town, hamlet to city and back? I’ve had more than my share of eggs in diners.

Simple test, “Eggs over easy.” Here’s the deal, I respect the cook who can get it correctly. Enough runny stuff to make toast and hash browns a necessity, and if over-cooked? No harm. Simple, win-win test for me.

With the Mercury situation, developing like it has been? A simple win-win test is required in Libra. Either that, or just order the eggs scrambled, hard, as that what the week kind of looks like. Scrambled mess.