Fishing Guide to the Stars starting 7.21.2011

“The nature of bad news infects the teller.”
Shakespeare’s Antony and Cleopatra [I.ii.96]

“Thwack!” (The sound of a cane being bent about the messenger’s head, same play, different act.)

Radio Interview is here (careful, autoplay).

Leo starts, later this week. Weekend. Welcome the mightiest of the Fire Signs. Absolutely — the very finest fixed fire sign: Leo.

Leo: The Chinese Ideogram for “trouble” depicts two women living under one roof. After watching a stand off between girlfriends (my cat and a real, live woman), I can understand why that might be true. Those two achieved a detente, of sorts, but that’s not what this is about. This is about avoiding trouble. Two women under one roof, according the ancient Chinese Ideogram, spells trouble. I wonder if that’s with a capital T? To avoid trouble? Keep those two girlfriends separated. To avoid trouble with Leo? Keep the two problem areas separated. Two women under one roof? What sort of miserable hell can that be?

Virgo: I have, combined, just a huge collection of musical CDs. The majority of the CDs I bought, for the songs, or a song, and to show I support the artist. Artists. I found that CDs last longer than records or tapes, that’s definite. More than a decade ago, I started shifting to all digital. Still, I have the CDs. Most are stored, out of sight, locked in a cabinet. I still prefer the idea that I have tangible, “hard copy” version of disposable media, like music.

In separate arena, I’ll lament the passing of “album art,” when a record’s cover was a full square foot of space for artwork. Still, the CD seems to hold up over time much better. The problem? I started looking for one song. It’s on a Beastie Boys CD, early 1986. I’m not Virgo. My CDs are not arranged by title, genre, alphabetical or otherwise. By the time I made it through the third or fourth box of CDs, I was thinking, “Hey, it would be easier to pay iTunes for the one song instead of digging it out.” As a Virgo, you see the logic in that. As a Virgo, you would also do like I did, and keep on digging to find that one CD. It was in the last box. Can you believe that?

Howdy [wlm_firstname],
I have a special treat. It’s an mp3 audio file, the first portion, about ten minutes, of “Mercury Retrograde Begone” meditational music.

Mercury Voice

More about Lawrence Ball and his music can be found at MeditationalMusic.net

Libra: My very first idea, the original piece of advice to go with this week? “Take the stairs.” I was thinking about one client, he works in a three-story office building, state office, in Austin. Takes the elevator, usually, to the top floor, to his office. The state got onto a health kick and for a while, he was gladly loping up the three floor to the office, no problem. Problem: the state got off its health initiative because it was costing money and taxpayers frequently don’t care a long as there is a cheaper alternative. No more health initiative. He forgot about taking the stairs. This isn’t about a forgotten state initiative to keep employees healthy; this is about extra steps that will help improve the life of Libra. The other part of this astrological equation, to add some friction? The knees can be affected by Saturn, so maybe taking the stairs isn’t the best example. However, if you’ll follow my logic, you can see that there is an easy-to-implement set of steps that makes your life better. Like taking the stair to the third floor.

Scorpio: Buy larger pants.

That’s a whole month’s worth of advice in a simple, three-word sentence. The Scorpio sense is that something’s not right, something doesn’t fit, the skin isn’t on correctly. Or, in my example, and my solution? Buy larger pants. Something isn’t quite right. Not off by a lot, it’s just like pulling on the old, familiar jeans and they feel tight. Like, they feel like, it’s as if someone ran them through the wash on high, shrunk that favorite pair by about half a size. Not so much that it’s really bad, not doing to sausage in a casing, but still, something’s just not right. This involves Jupiter in Taurus, opposite Scorpio. The sense, between Jupiter, the phase of the moon, the feeling that goes with this, plus the stupid sun is going in stupid Leo, and that just makes all of this worse, stupid planets. So anyway, the sensation is that the jeans feel like they are too snug. Gain a little weight? A little puffy from sunburn? The simplest solution? Buy clothes that fit.

I’m back to my original comment, buy larger pants.

Sagittarius: “It’s a beauty pageant,” buddy of mine explained. I’m clueless because I thought a “beauty pageant” involved women in bathing suits, answering inane question, maybe doing a trick or something, like a dog, balancing a biscuit on its nose. “It’s a ‘show and tell,’ or a chance to trot out what they think we want to see, what will close the deal. Beauty pageant.” I pretended to understand. I don’t, not really, it’s one of those expression that applies in a certain field, in a specific line of work, and it’s not one I’m personally acquainted with. Nor, for that matter, does it sound like it’s a kind of job I’m interested in. Either. One expression I’m used to, but haven’t heard in a while? “dog and pony show,” although, I’ll guess, it’s about the same thing. Only, in the beauty pageant, the suitor puts forth, I’m guessing, the best possible scenario, paints in the most luminous light available. Attractive packaging. Canine excrement wrapped in a pretty box and when you open it, well, I’m sure the suitable analogy isn’t lost on Sagittarius. As a Sagittarius, we’re being wooed with the beauty pageant. Don’t let a pretty wrapper (face, packaging) fool you.

Capricorn: One of my great passions is Shakespeare’s life and work. There are, maybe, three documents with verified signatures, maybe a few scraps of real evidence, but other than that? Birth and death is largely a mystery, not to mention the intervening years when (and where) he worked. The best book I’ve read about the life and work of Shakespeare is a slightly controversial The Truth Will Out, which, to me, seemed like a reasoned and clear line of logic. The problem being, it’s constructed from what amounts to circumstantial evidence, as, despite the years, there’s still not a lot of hard facts — while plausible enough, that book would never hold up in court as fact. Not an issue. The scholarship and the drawn conclusions are sound, well-argued. Good book. Possibly fiction. Posited as fact, but in my own way, I see a wink and a nod, my own interpretation of the British. Facts. Facts are facts. Factoids are fun, but not really admissible in a court of law. Have to give the material more than my sniff test. My sniff test suggests that the book might be correct in its assumptions. My internal fact-checker (such as it is) sees big, gaping, holes in the lines of real evidence. Fact or fiction? Fact or just another story built upon a number of well-drawn, but ultimately unprovable

Aquarius: Custom phone rings are kind of passe by now. However, that being suggested, I like one I custom built. It was a cacophony of sounds, and I assigned it my sister. Door slamming, machinery getting kicked into gear, all manner of noises, bells, whistles, warnings. I was in restaurant the other afternoon and I heard a new ringtone. “I want you to want me, I need you to need me…” Woman, looked a little sheepish, gave a wan smile and the faintest hint of a blush as she dug around to grab the phone. She didn’t actually say it, but I could easily see her saying, “It’s him, you know….” I’m unsure of what all is implied. Is it a crush? A suitor she wanted to be more? A friend she wanted to be a suitor? A reluctant, recalcitrant lover? When I was putting together various foley noises to represent my sister as a phone ring, I carefully thought about how that noise would appear, if I were in a public place. While I’m sure the message is clear about that other phone ring, before you put it into place, think how it will sound. As an Aquarius, as the Moon slides through the last quarter, I’m thinking that you’re not thinking. It could be something as simple as an embarrassing phone ring. Think about it. It cold be much worse. Think about it.

Pisces: When Neptune is at a zero-degree mark, like zero degrees of Pisces (Tropical Zodiac), that single influence will heighten Pisces insight. Intuition. Prescience. You’re good, but as a Pisces, this is a time to be selfless and forward-thinking. It’s not about this next week. It’s not about this next couple of days. It’s not about the hours or minutes ahead, it’s about days, weeks, months, even years on down the Pisces road of life. Your Pisces pathway, there’s short-term goals and long-term goals. Look at the long-term stuff. Think about the far-reaching, the material that’s way over the next horizon. Think in terms of years not weeks or months. Think. Stop, analyze, then peer into this next two, three years with the Pisces mind’s eye. Probably shold punctuate that differently but the editor will be asleep at the wheel, it could be Pisces’ Minds’ Eyes. Skip it. Look further ahead than just the next week or even the next few days. Mapping long-term goals is a better way to use this week’s energy. Week’s energies.

Aries: I enjoyed a short career as a furniture designer. I built about three pieces of note. One, a favorite to this day, it was an amalgam of a draftsman table and a computer workbench, with a side of serious study added in, just a leavening agent. The desk was over six feet long, three feet wide, and the top surface, essentially the size of a door, it was canted at, I think it was 27 degrees. An open text book could reside on the desk’s surface, but pens, pencils, junk mail and so forth would slide right off. I called it a “Self-dumping desk.” Worked well for many years. Didn’t fit in the last trailer, but that’s another tale. Currently, it’s at a friend’s house, hopefully, its final resting place. With the onset of Leo, with Uranus, Saturn, and so forth, there’s a clean sweep required. Stop and start all over again. Clear the desk, so to speak. Nuke everything then restore it all from a back-up. The “self-dumping desk” served its purpose well. It’s not everything we’re trying to get rid of in Aries Land, it’s just certain stuff. Like, with that desk, research material, like books? They didn’t slide off. Don’t dump everything, just the stuff that you don’t want to stick. Try getting rid of just some things.

Taurus: A perennial favorite for me is the Georgia O’Keefe Museum in Santa Fe (NM). One of my dinner companions, one evening, he was explaining that he was underwhelmed by the museum. “It’s so small,” he said. It is small, relatively speaking, to something like the Museums of Modern Art, here and aboard. It’s not a huge museum space. It’s almost tiny, relatively speaking. One of my other favorite Museums is the Tate Modern in London, and I’m almost certain that the Tate’s gift shop is larger than the whole Georgia O’Keefe museum. It’s not about quantity, it’s about what’s in there. The Georgia O’Keefe collection is not as expansive as the assembled collection of modern masters, like a real museum would have. There’s only room for so much to be on display. I got lucky and I had an opportunity to see one of the pictures, up close, that hung in the White House. Good experience. But it’s quantity or quality, which is more important to Taurus? One good, little museum, or a big one that’s just packed with too much stuff to see in one trip? Or, in other world, one good (thing) instead of many, maybe not as good (things). The question is quantity versus quality. I like the little museum because it’s has a tight focus. Something a Taurus would do well to learn this next few days.

Gemini: I wandered into a diner. Real diner, kind of off the beaten track, in New Mexico, if you must know. Looked at the menu items, and looked at the time. It was about quarter until eleven. “Could I get the lunch special?” “Oh no, not today. Cook is mean. Really mean.” Snappy retort. Snappy comeback before I even had a chance to say anything else. The ferocity of the waitress’s comeback suggested that sticking to breakfast, something with eggs and green chilies, that would be fine. Predictably, it was very good. Matter of listening. Matter of listening to what others are saying. If I had been with a Gemini companion, traveling with a Gemini, that Gemini would’ve argued about the time, and then, to push it further, the Gemini would wander back and argue with the mean cook. Obvious Gemini hint: don’t argue with people who prepare your food. Another obvious clue: don’t argue with people who handle your food. You’re going to get some clear instructions, next couple of days. Mars makes you argumentative. You’re going to lose and it’s not going to be pretty. I can save you that heartache and embarrassment: don’t.

“Cook is mean today.”

Cancer: I was talking about diet and I was talking about the “low carb” attributes best associated with BBQ. Which launched into a discussion about various berries and protein shakes that were available. Which led to a discussion and subsequent recipe for Blueberry – Vanilla Soy – BBQ Brisket shake. Sounds about right. The blueberries were fresh, the brisket was day-old and I can’t say anything about the vanilla soy milk. I found some vanilla soy milk that had a shelf life of over a year. Compared to regular diary milk, that was good. Little creepy, but then, soy milk and real milk are related only in terminology, not biology. Venus is still in your sign, but only just barely, by the end of this scope. To make the best use of the Venus energy? Given where the rest of the planets are, I’d suggest that there is a good way to use this, but you’ve got to open up that Cancer mind. My experiment, the brisket, blueberry protein shake wasn’t as successful as I hoped. Doesn’t stop it from being a good idea, or a valid experiment. Consider combining elements that don’t belong together. Might not be successful. Might fail miserably. But I tried.