Fishing Guide to the Stars starting 8.25.2011

“O! What men dare do! What men may do! What men daily do, not knowing what they do!”
Shakespeare’s Much Ado About Nothing [IV.i.14] Virgo: Happy Birthday! At least one little Virgo friend is going to look askance at my “happy birthday” wish and she’ll make a snippy, snarky, snide comment about my familial lineage, possibly illegitimate birth rights, and imply that prevarication is the common element. All that from a simple “happy birthday” wish? Bit of a stretch, even for me. With a sneer, I’ll be reminded that it was hyperbole. The folks with birthdays this very week, honey, have already had Venus slip pass. Not bad, not good, not anything, just means that the sarcasm seems to have an extra amount of bite. Might want to tone back the cutting comments. The rest of the Virgo slice of the heavens is still looking forward to the “make nice” transit of Venus. That’s good, for them. Current birthday? Venus is now gone. You have to try to be nice. I’ll promise there’s a good weekend filled with much promise, rapidly approaching. Cut back on the sarcasm.

There’s a special gesture, this week features an extra-length, free, audio track. Called Virgo.mp3. Ya’ll enjoy.

Libra: Saturn is at a halfway point in his trip through Libra. Reminds me of a Jimmy Buffett song, Capricorn, and the song’s lyric are something about another trip around the sun, indicative, in a poetical and cosmological way, of another year. Another year and little bit older. Saturn’s symbolism is apparent by now. Can’t be argued with. Can be argued with it, but it’s fruitless argument as Saturn tends to win, eventually, every time.

This weekly scope ends with a punctuation point, Moon and Saturn align. That’s all about giving a central focal point to the message about Saturn’s “lesson,” and this week is an excellent time to stop and assess where your extra-fine Libra self is with Saturn’s coarse course.

Scorpio: It was a great realization: the data doesn’t change. The skin, the way the information is accessed, that changes. It’s like this: the words in the book don’t change. But the book’s cover, you know where that’s going, right? Don’t judge a book by its cover? The way this metaphor spins up for your week is that the data, the words inside the book don’t change. However like all web-based material, the way the content is presented, that’s going to change. There’s one Scorpio who’s never forgiven me for changing a web page’s layout. Liked it the way it was. Didn’t want change. Didn’t accept change. Complained bitterly for 3 years or more. “Let it go,” is my familiar intonation. “Not happening,” is the familiar Scorpio reply. “Forgive, but don’t forget.” That, too. Which is our problem. The “forgive don’t forget” tag line? Good Scorpio quote, but the problem this weeks, especially? Not forgiving, or forgetting. That’s not what this is really about. The inherent structure, the foundation of the Scorpio material, it’s sound. The way the material is presented is changing. It’s safe. Give it up. Get over it. Let it go.

Sagittarius: Happened once. I’m sure there’s an eyewitness or two who can attest to this. I was barking mad. It’s a term I love because it expresses a certain type of energy with typical British Understatement (TM). Street scene, one of those outdoor street festivals, and a host of beer trucks with the beer truck drivers, all hanging around. It was well into the night and malted, alcoholic beverages might’ve been involved, but I’m not saying. One of my casual friends was sliding by on roller skates. Very well-built young lady. Cat calls from the beer truck drivers, perhaps material, in this day and age, that wouldn’t be politically correct. Suggestion. I was walking by, probably going home. I started to bark at the drivers. One, in question, was bigger, much bigger, and he could probably snap me like toothpick. My “barking mad” routine defused what was turning into an uncomfortable situation for the woman, kept me from getting my ass handed to me by a crew of beer-truck drivers, and saved the day. Enough levity, perhaps weirdness, perhaps the drivers were worried I was rabid, which, it could’ve been the case, but that’s not the problem. Step outside of the normal Sagittarius constraints to save the day. Evening. Even if you look like you’re barking mad.

Capricorn: One of the best self-help books I’ve ever come across was called the Tao of Pooh. There was a sequel, not nearly as successful, and I never made it through the second text. However, that first text was quite remarkable. Can be read in only an afternoon. Maybe an hour or two. Not a big deal. Good book because it deals with situations just like right now. Instead of long-winded explanation, instead of making this more difficult for Capricorn, I’m proposing a simpler, easier solution. Like that text. Instead of an epic tome, voluminous in length and scope? Instead of one of those huge paperbacks that’s close to 800 pages? Think short version. Think the “academic notes precisé” (Cliff Notes) version. The biggest problem there? The Monarch/Cliff Notes of the Tao? Probably be longer than the Tao itself. Think short, not long.

Aquarius: I have a Mag-Light flashlight, the kind usually seen on cops shows, on TV. Heavy, about three D-cells in it, plus the length and heft of the steel, presumably water-tight, cylinder. Usually, these are scraped up and black. Mine’s purple. Pretty, metallic purple. Anodized. Whatever. It’s a purple flashlight that’s easily heavy enough to be a weapon. Useful because those big batteries don’t go dead quickly. Holds a charge and still, with its heft and narrow, missile-like body, a comforting shape for, presumably, hand to hand protection. As useful as a thumper as a source of light. Again, something to do with cop shows. Might be myth. Doesn’t matter. The purple is aesthetically pleasing. The feeling is one of security. The real purpose, presumably, is light in a dark place. I’d work on that idea. You need a source of reassurance, a light in a dark place, and it would be better if it was aesthetically pleasing, and if there was another factor, a reassuring heft, like that flashlight. Be a good weapon. I fully intend to never use it like that, but just having it around as a touchstone makes me feel better. We’re looking for an item, an object, you might already have it, something that is pretty, yet useful, and in some way, reassuring. Maybe you already have one.

Pisces: Refrigerated Air is the culprit, as far as I’m concerned. The AC. The big, wonderful, powerful, climate-changing Air Conditioner. The AC. The warm, wet outside temperature seems a lot warmer after the dried-out cold of the AC. I was in a library, one afternoon, until my bare legs — August heat — got too cold to take it. I popped out in the humid, hot summer sun. Didn’t warm up for a few blocks. Not a big deal. It’s a summertime thing, here. However, I was looking at your chart and that abrupt transition, from cold, dry air to warm, wet air? That’s what this is like. Sort of sudden. For me, I walked up to the library, in the heat, cooled off, got cold, started to shiver then jumped back into the heat to putatively thaw out, and walk home. In the warm, wet heat. Damp, like wet wool. That’s me, and what I was thinking of, for my little Pisces friends, only, you’re in and out of the heat and the AC all week long. Might not be real heat, and might not be AC, but the two extremes can upset the delicate Pisces constitution. Hence the problem. Ever go to the movie theater in the middle of the summer, like in August? And have to take a sweater? That’s what this week is like. Looks odd to carry a sweater, or, in my case, a flannel shirt, but still, it’s so cold and that abrupt change isn’t good for your body.

Aries: I have a long list of less than successful ventures. In the good, old days, to start a business, to fly an idea out there, it took hours, weeks, months, years. Get a location, get a secretary, office, storeroom, warehouse, showroom, and so forth. These days? Starts with just an idea. Idea can become a weblog someplace that then spins off into its own website. But first, the free stuff. Start small. Idea. Concept without a lot of development. Give it a spin. Costs all of about 2 dollars to get a web name started. Not much more than that. Name that points to free web host someplace. Got that great Aries idea. Been thinking about it, obsessing, while Mercury was retrograde. As all this starts to unwind from wrapped too tight, it’s time to take that idea. Here’s the big hint: start small. Think big, but start small.

Taurus: Jupiter unspools from his stationary position, as does Mr. Mercury. Compound that with a New Moon, and that means we’re all set to go in Taurus Land. Land of Taurus. There’s an unbalanced sensation, and it’s like, you’re ready to move forward only no one else has your momentum, not yet. One weekend, last summer, we beached a bay boat, to do some wade fishing. Ran the boat up onto the soft sand of bar. From fast to stop, in a for short paces. Maybe just about three heartbeats. I was ready, holding onto the center console. Got jolted but with bent knees, not a problem. Buddy of mine, the putative captain of our little fishing boat that afternoon, he’s a little aggressive about beaching the boat. Likes to ram the shoreline hard enough to make sure the boat stays put while we fish. He also has a stated goal of trying to get one of us to tumble into the water, for laughter’s sake. Ha-ha. The planets are a little jolt. The deal is, if you’re not prepared, you wont’ see this coming and as the planets begin to move in an un-retrograde pattern, you’ll get pitched into the sand bar. Not fun. It’s coming, you’ve been warned, enjoy the water.

Gemini: “Conjunto” is, to me, TexMex music. I had a neighbor on one side, the accordion going, marking the music. I’m unsure of the striations within that type of music, and my Spanish has never been good enough to make out all the lyrics. On the other side, I had a neighbor listening to classic, classic rock. I mean, it was AOR, a label that will escape all but the die-hardest of pop musical historians. Between the two, I started to think about a mash-up, one that I could mix. Blend backbeat and pedantic classic rock beats, uninspired bass against the sharp beats of the snappy and weirdly rhythmic “TexMex” Salsa music? Sure, it could happen. I have one sampling of a DJ mix of similar material, but what I was hearing, it was classic-classic on one side, and I’m unsure of the source, but TexMex for sure, on the other side. Blend, mix, mash-up. Run it together. Or, in another example, ask your Gemini self, will it blend? Given the y the stuff falls down today, this week, the more you blend and try to match discordant beats with each other, the better you fare.

Cancer: I’ll bet there’s a science to the way a person should present information. I mean, like a sales guy, making a pitch, there’s a way that he should stand. Hands in front of him, hands in his pockets, hands clasped behind his back? Leaning forward, leaning backwards, act concerned, act aloof? I’m pretty sure someone’s done studies explaining what works best. I’d also like to think that the message gets tailored to the individual or group. I tend to slant my style to each sign, in an effort to effectively communicate the material, as quickly — and in the case of Cancer — as gently as possible. The problem being, gentle isn’t working well. I’ll be as a soft and kind as I can be, but that’s a single person in the Moon Child’s circle who is trying to be nice. Mars, Mercury, Sun, all getting you worked up. Worked over, worked up, worn down. One — or more — of those directions. To put this to effective use? Stop and consider choosing your direction. Someone might try pushing you in one direction, and instead os resisting? How about letting them shove you in a general direction and you veer off as need to be adjust that direction? Going against the flow isn’t healthy or easy, but adjust ing the flow to fit you better? Much better use of Mars (and everything else).

Leo: It’s always the saddest time for me, as I have to rotate the Leo Weekly Horoscope back to the bottom. Not a favored action, on my part, but we’ve had this discussion, I prefer Leo to even my own sign, as Leo, as a rule, and as rulers, are just much easier for me to get along with. Mercury gets back on track, and the Sun/Venus thing, the next sign over, in Virgo? That makes all of this, makes for, there could be, some domestic bliss. Doesn’t make everything all right, but as a start, it’s a good place to begin. Nice start. Look: this Mercury Retrograde has special kind of hell for Leo. It’s over. Done with. Behind you. Move on. There’s a very Leo-like temptation to dwell on the failures of the last two, three weeks. This isn’t allowed, not by the end of the horoscope. Dwelling in the past and obsessing about recent failures isn’t an option, not now. Move forward. One mighty Leo paw in front of the next. Move it forward. No looking back by the end of this horoscope.

About the author: Born and raised in a small town in East Texas, Kramer Wetzel spent years honing his craft in trailer park in South Austin. He hates writing about himself in third person. More at

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  • Sarah Smith Aug 25, 2011 @ 17:23

    Barking mad (Sag) but not snarky (Virgo). I can do that.