“That man hath a tongue, I say is no man
If with his tongue he cannot win a woman.”
Shakespeare’s The Two Gentlemen of Verona (III.i.104-5)
Aries: I’ve got this type lure, little wiggly bit of plastic, with a cute skirt. Works wonders. I’m pretty sure that the movement of the skirt, that hula skirt? I’m pretty sure that’s what drives the bass into a reaction-type situation. Drag that lure in front of the bass, and the bass strikes before thinking. I’m almost sure of it. Okay, looking at the planets this week? You’re like that bass. You see some movement, and before you can think, “Oh great, it’s just Kramer baiting me again,” you’ve got a hook in your Aries mouth. That’s a problem. I’m pretty sure that type of lure is designed to do just that, too. Looks like something. Maybe it mimics “food” in fish language. Whatever. The deal is, Mars and the Sun are in Pisces. Slow down that reaction time. Mercury just flew out of Aries, too. Just slow it all down. Just because something looks like food, that doesn’t mean you should just react. Take time to think about or you’ll wind up as a photo trophy.
Taurus: Happy birthday and welcome to the entertainment portion of our show. Life might not be a like a variety show on old-time TV, but this next few days? Imagine it’s like a talk show. Taurus life as a TV Talk Show. There will be a plethora of guests. Some guy will take the stage and try a little comedy. Some of that comedy is topical, but some the humor might escape you. Don’t worry, someone finds it funny, I’m sure. Then there’s a singer-songwriter, takes a spin at the stage and plays his/hers favorite hit. Then that person sits and chats for spell. Next up? There’s a guy who wrote a magazine article that touched off a flurry of comments, so he’s being interviewed. Musician moves over a chair, and the interview proceeds. This is what it’s like in the land of Taurus. You’re not the star, not exactly, like, you’re not the singer, the songwriter, the comedian, the high-profile writer, you’re the host. That comedian wasn’t invited over for a chat because, after the routine? Nothing left to say, and you don’t want any one “guest” taking all the limelight. Got it? This is about management. Although, I’m sure I’ll hear from one Taurus who thinks a talk show isn’t the right metaphor, “No man, it’s more like a friggin’ three-ring circus.” Enjoy being the host. Or the ringmaster.
Gemini: According to some, bigger baits catch bigger fish. That’s not always been my experience. I’ve caught a couple of decent bass on smaller lures. Happened the other evening, the bigger hook? Caught a little guy that was not much more than a minnow. However, a few minutes later? Since I thought they were all small fish? I used a smaller lure, tiny little trout hooks on the end. This is easily predictable, but you know what came next? Bigger fish. By no means was it whopper, but at least it was more than bait. Sometimes, look, it’s Venus in Gemini, sometimes, a smaller lure will catch a bigger fish. And sometimes, my dear Gemini, a little more stealth, and little less flash is a better way to approach what you’re trying to accomplish here.
Cancer: The “learning curve,” I suppose, is some sort mathematically defined arc that shows the parts where it’s easiest to learn. Or harder. There’s always that that first glance at the material. I’ve found that actually sitting down going through the material provided with new software is a good approach. I’m firmly in the “we don’t need no stinkin’ instructions” camp, but that doesn’t stop me — when no one is looking — from actually reading those instructions. At least I’ll look at the part that says, “Read this even if you don’t read the instructions.” The learning curve is less of hyperbolic arc, and more like and exponential curve, slow to start and fast to finish. The deal is, my most excellent Cancer folks? We’re down here at the beginning of the curve. We’re all at that part where everything starts out slow. Whether this bell-shaped curve, or just a single upward-bound line, like I’d like to believe, all of our Cancer parts are down here at the beginning edge. Slow going. It feels like we’re just “not getting it,” even though Cancer folks tend to be more observant than your average sign. You’re not missing anything, it just starts out slow.
Leo: Mars, Venus and Uranus set up and interesting flavor for your fine Leo self. Mars and Uranus align to bring about some rather unexpected changes, and Miss Venus, over in Gemini? She’s going to add a dose frustration to the milieu, just to make it all interesting. With the fine-tuning of the Venus influence, there’s a little question of taste. I have long, curly, frequently unruly hair. Just the way it is. I’ve long since given up any hope of doing something that’s stylish or in vogue, I just don’t think it’s going to happen. So, for me, every day is a bad hair day, or a good hair day, all depends on how I look at it. I’ve found that slamming hat down on the top of my head goes a long way towards making everything more acceptable. Pull it back in a ponytail? I’m good to go. This is as bad — or as good — as it gets. With this weird planet stuff hitting you in an oblique fashion, it means that it’s all in how you look at it. Like my hair. A rubber band and gimme hat can cure everything.
Virgo: I ran into a Virgo buddy the other afternoon. She looked miserable. She tried, despite a gamey flavor to her demeanor, to put on a happy face. That 100-watt Virgo smile lasted for about two minutes. Then came the long, sad story about love gone awry, thwarted and misinterpreted intentions, and the whole mess of the social life. None of it was good. Virgo land is facing some obstacles at this moment. Nothing I can do to make that any better. Mars makes a flying conjunction with Uranus, over yonder in Pisces, and that whole mess opposes Virgo. So you’re running into a situation wherein no matter what you try, no matter what you do, none of it seems to matter. It does matter to me, but then, I’m a specially Virgo-centric astrologer. Just my luck, huh? So as Mars lines up like this, and as he fries his way through Pisces, plus there’s that added electrical jolt from Uranus, while all of this is going on, you’re feeling it. Which means, in turn, I’m there with you, offering my tea and sympathy. Look: you’ve still got your 100-watt smile. You’ve still got your wits about you. Might not look like to everyone, but I know you’re going to do just fine, in the long haul. By the time this scope is over? You’re in a much better position.
Libra: I was waiting on a piece of audio-video footage to load in my browser’s window, and I got thinking, broadband, high-speed internet, even the dial-up speeds are so fast these days, compared with what they used to be. So on my slow-fast DSL connection, waiting on a movie to download still takes an annoying amount of time, you know, like maybe a minute or two. Used to be, a file that size? It would take hours, days even. Used to be, I’d go off and read a magazine, or a book, while material was slowly filtering down the phone lines. These days, it’s all pretty fast. Technology has come a long way in a short time. But I’m still waiting on that one funny video clip to finish loading. The little progress bar is moving at a rather slow pace. Maybe the connection’s been hit with a lot of traffic? That progress bar, that sense of hurry up and wait? That’s the way the weekend feels. If you stop long enough to consider just how fast you’re moving, the amount of data that’s streaming into your computer, it’s rather amazing. I’m sure there’s a computer axiom that governs such situations, though, the faster you move, the longer it takes for some piece of information to get to us. It’s like watching that progress bar, still moving at the same pace as ten years ago.
Scorpio: I was casually flipping a light lure into the night’s sky, watching it plunk into the water, and retrieving the line, just like I knew what I was doing. Only this was at night. Night fishing requires slightly different tactics, slightly different bait, same fishing poles. What amused me, though, was watching bats dive for my lure as it sailed through the air. I didn’t notice at first. But with the moon just rising in the east, not full yet, but getting there, I could see by the light that an erratic flight pattern was described by a winged critter. Not a bird, but a little mammal, sort of like a mouse with wings. It would sense the bait and head towards it until the bait plopped in the water. Then the critter would veer off. So would the fish, that night. Just like the fish, maybe wait until the moon is full before you start thinking about taking the bait.
Sagittarius: Magnificent aspirations are part of what sets us Sagittarius apart from other signs. Magnificent obsessions are part of what drive us to excel. They can also drive us crazy. It’s sometimes hard to tell the difference between an aspiration and an obsession. That’s the clue, too, on how we’re pursuing a certain objective. Is it truly a goal that is for our highest good? Is it really something we’re trying to obtain because it would enrich our life of Sagittarius? Or is this a grand obsession, but an obsession, none-the-less? Tricky question, and one I’m not prepared to make the distinction with. One year, at this time, I undertook major house-cleaning. Another year, I did some rather important home-repairs. In both situations, it looked like I was moving with a single-minded purpose. Almost obsessive. So it’s a fine line between aspiring and obsessing. I’m not very good at it myself, telling the difference between the two. Careful with what you’re goals are.
Capricorn: I realize that you’re quite rambunctious at this point, and I realize that you’re supposed to be feeling good about yourself, too. Sometimes, what the stars dictate and what’s really going on? Sometimes, over here in Capricorn? Sometimes all of that doesn’t quite add up the way it’s supposed to. I split the chart up into three parts and looked a little closer, trying to get a better idea of what was shaking in the Capricorn world. It’s about assessing progress. It’s about the metrics of how you measure all of this great “stuff” that is supposedly going on in your corner of the world. How do you rate your Capricorn self? How do you measure up against outward — perhaps more important — inward yardsticks of life? I’m suggesting, when you get around to measuring your progress these days? I’m recommending an internal tool, a benchmark of some kind that might not be reflected in the outside world. Measure your own progress within yourself — you’ll be surprised just how far you’ve progressed.
Aquarius: I was running around with a fairly normal Aquarius guy the other evening. “Fairly normal” means the guy looked like an average “Joe,” whatever that means. However, as the evening wore on, it became apparent that this “typical” Aquarius was a not exactly “right in the head,” which, by my standards was quite all right. He had a command of various, rather arcane facts. He knew his material. He would rattle off in one direction for a spell, then switch, turn around, and follow another thread for a bit. Then, he’d wrap it all around, somehow turn that original, distracted thought into an answer to the question that was part of the first part. The meandering, long-winded and rather distracted method of delivery just suited the evening’s entertainment. He’d perfected that method of gathering up the loose ends and having it all make sense. As a raconteur, this particular Aquarius was the best. Gather up the loose ends, Aquarius, and have it all make sense.
Pisces: I was listening to a certain city employee complain about the onerous weight of work she faced. How matters got handled quickly, and she was pulling 50-plus hour-work weeks. There’s the local mythology about “city employees,” and those stories seem to be more steeped in mythos than any real and tangible links to the real world. I’m sure my normally relaxed and easy-going Pisces friends are feeling the same way. You’re sitting there, and someone starts talking about the lazy nature of Pisces. Not true. With Mars in your sign, you’re inclined to be a little more active, a little less sedentary, and more likely to have the hackles go up on the back of your neck when some lazy astrologer guy mentions “city employees.” Mars flies past Uranus in the next couple of days, and this can be wonderfully good, or this can really, really irritate the bejeebers out of you. So it all depends on how you react to the challenges, as Mars sputters along in Pisces. The trick is to stop and assess the situation before you jump into sweeping comments — and with Mars? Sweeping actions, too. Got to watch that.
