Fishing Guide to the Stars starting 10.13.2011

“For we are gentlemen
That neither in our hearts or outward eyes
Envy the great nor do the low despise.”
Shakespeare’s Pericles, Prince of Tyre [II.iii.27-9]

FREE Teleseminar, conference call: 11/3/2011 – 8 PM Central
Mercury Retrograde and 2012: What’s up ahead? More information ->
astrofish.net/mercury

Libra: “There’s a fine line between fishing and sitting there, looking stupid.” That fine line, in my case, it’s usual ten or 12-lbs. Mono. Monofilament fishing line. Fine line between fishing and sitting there, looking stupid? I’ve used a portion of this example before, a time when I was testing a fishing set-up, only to have the test apparatus, with no bait, catch a fish. Didn’t look stupid then. However, as a Libra, you’re sensitive to looking stupid. Let me help prevent that. Check the hook. Check to see that there is a hook. After one fight with a submerged obstacle, I found I was no longer fishing with a hook. Looked stupid. I’m trying to keep you from looking stupid on your birthday, around your birthday. There are some very simple checks, maybe just a handy list before you exit the house? Think about me with a hook, a bobber, and no bait. I looked stupid. Just check to make sure it’s all there. In my case, there are some things that are missing, but we all knew that, going in.

Scorpio: Back glass of a pickup truck. Black truck, black, tinted windows. Cattle guard (brush bumper) on the front end. In pink, in highly ornate cursive printing, the largest of the message? “Two Cow Girls.” Underneath that, in all lower case, in a much smaller type, “we get even.” Statement of fact. Not a question. I never met the girls, didn’t hang around, might not even have snapped an image. Just loved the idea. First off, think about the size of the truck itself. One those big mothers. Probably a diesel, but I didn’t note that, not for sure.

Then the pink lettering, A frankly macho vehicle but a frankly unmanly set of letters. The message itself? Sweet, colorful, and fraught with meaning for Scorpio. “We get even.” Here’s a helpful hint: don’t piss them off. Problem being, MArs, in Leo? You’re prone to either want to piss them off, or try and get even when someone does piss you off. Neither is a good option, not now.

Sagittarius: I live in Texas. I’m native. So finding myself in an engrossing conversation about astronomical data with a former NASA employee wasn’t so strange. NASA, in Houston? Funny part was, he really was a rocket scientist. It was rocket science. There’s a certain degree of inevitable. There’s a certain degree that it will happen, sooner or later. As a circumspect and casual Sagittarius myself, I just didn’t bother to point out, like, 500 years ago, me and the rocket scientist were on the same side. There’s a time to argue and advance our agenda, as a Sagittarius this wasn’t the time. No need to open that can of worms. Not the time to push my observations that astrology is a much older science that astrophysics; although, we belong in the same group. Not a time advance any Sagittarius agenda. It was, it is, a good time to patiently listen. Which I did. Which, if your patient ears will attend….

Capricorn: I’ve lived most of my life in the American Southwest, Texas, New Mexico, Arizona, Texas. Because of distances, commercial air travel was a popular way to get around, for me. In the desert southwest, at sundown, the winds pick up. Strong, blustering gusts. Whether it’s Albuquerque, Phoenix, or El Paso, landing in a commercial craft isn’t scary, not for me, but I’m familiar with the great gusts that spring up and seem to carry the plane sideways for a few meters. Not really a big deal to a seasoned traveler like myself, but disconcerting to a more causal flyer, or a passenger not familiar with the desert southwest and its atmosphere. The planets are like that, a big gust that seems to lift and move your Capricorn self sideways. Not good, not bad, just different. Perhaps unsettling to some. For me? I just grab the stupid inflight catalog and leaf through that. Or read a book. Commercial air travel is a lot safer than riding with one of my friends in a car. That’s for sure. Maybe a little sideways gust that seems to knock Capricorn off course, but not really, it’s just a temporary atmospheric disturbance.

Aquarius: I was getting on an airplane, and the flight attend took one look at me, “Cody!” I have no idea who “Cody!” is. I had no idea, until she hastily explained that I looked like some kind of reality TV star. Which I’m not. I got less than two minutes of TV time. National, but only two minutes. Less, more like forty seconds. But I’m not “Cody!” Nor, another favorite call, “Ted Nugent,” or, on one occasion, “I thought you were the Nuge.” That was weird. Mistakes and how we roll with them. What this is really all about. How our extra-fine Aquarius selves choose to deal with the little exigencies that pop up in the full moon like time. “Cody!” No, Kramer, with a K. Please. Thankyouverymuch. Aquarius, how are you going to react when someone squeals and calls you “Cody!”

Pisces: I started a web journal years ago. In that way, I can claim to be one of the first wave of bloggers, but sadly, that’s not a memorable title. Then, too, I never made it big with that type of ongoing conversation, the blog. I tend to regard it as experimental. Draft copies of stories, bits of books, pieces of rendered memories, just a place to drop material. Sometimes a place to test the stuff. Which is what this full moon, upcoming, is all about. Testing. Exploring. Giving it a shot. Run it up the old flagpole and see if anyone salutes. Test the idea. What I do with a blog is test material. See if it works. First draft, in effect. This week, this weekend, it’s about a first draft of something. First crack at some kind of Pisces message. It’s an important message, you want to get it across to the largest number of people, the greatest audience possible, So do it as a draft, for now. Test it. However, like my blog, which is strictly for my own entertainment, you’ve got to remember that some peiople might not “get” it. That’s okay, too.

Aries: Young woman walked by. She had on green and black, horizontal striped leggings; white sweatshirt; furry boots; leg warmers (or socks); Elvis-styled sunglasses; and who knows what all else. I lost the ability to pay attention. It’s a look that only young people can properly carry. She was young enough, that fresh-face blossom of youth, and she moved with the airy self-confidence that only youth can have. At first, I thought it was an early Halloween thing. No, just several disparate pieces of clothing, and if I’d worn it? I’d be judged more whacked than I already am. Before you walk out the house, before you do anything like that. Consider this: are you young enough to effectively pull off that outfit? I’ve found that anything more than a Hawaiian shirt and shorts and sandals, I look like a strange person. In my traditional attire, though, I just look like a tourist. Safer. Stick with your traditional attire. Don’t try to be too flashy. Too much flesh, nothing like that. The young and very beautiful can wear something like that and not look like an early Halloween costume. The rest of us Aries? Maybe not this week.

Taurus: I started to carry a camera, a cheap digital image capture device, about a decade back. Since then, I’ve watched as hardware and resolution has waxed and waned. Oddly enough, with no real discernible focal length, some of my best images have come from relatively low-yield cell phone cameras. Why are they called cell phones, still? Like the photography I’m engaged in, it’s all digital now. Always was, for me. The problem in Taurus is that my cheap cameras, got so the cheap cameras aren’t missed if they go overboard, they don’t have the ability to do the up-close focus, or the thing where the background is out-of-focus and the object in the center is crystal-clear. However, unlike my cheap cameras, and this isn’t a time for a Taurus to cheap out, unlike those cameras, Taurus has an ability to focus. Focus to the exclusion of extraneous sounds and distractions. Focus with laser-like clarity on the one goal that is most important. Work goal. I hope it’s a work goal. It is important. Crystal-clear, laser-like attention to one goal. A single item. Just one. No more. One.

Gemini: I toyed with your Gemini chart. I came up with a single expression for this week: intellectual comfort food. I was thinking about comfort food, but not really food. Not a comestible, meal-type of comfort food. I was thinking of intellectual candy for the Gemini mind. For me, this is a murder-mystery, an action-packed crime-thriller. A Clancy kind of novel. Fun. Frivolous. The trick is that the “intellectual comfort food” has to be mentally stimulating and engaging for the Gemini mindset. Needs to have some kind of nutritional value, in some capacity. The quickest, handiest example would be Florida Author, Carl Hiaasen (Pisces). Fun, frivolous and yet, there’s always a bit of message in his work. In the same vein, there’s always Tim Dorsey, which might be more to the Gemini liking. Dorsey (Aquarius) always layers in some trivial historical material that is utterly fascinating. These are just a couple of examples, and these are drawn from own tastes. You’re a Gemini; your taste might be different, but the thematic element is the same, “intellectual comfort food.”

Cancer: I donated a bag of unused books to the local library. There was a couple of pop-psychology texts, a pair of decades-old reference manuals that were no longer viable, and assorted other material. Nothing too heavy. A science fiction book I read years ago, and I can now admit, I’ll never want to read it again. Just pruning away at the library I have. Not really material that is important, and not really material that I’ll be interested in the future. Collect the donation slip for taxes. However, as the texts were spread out on the counter at the library, right before I bid a found farewell to the books, I had seller’s remorse. A quick, fleeting thought that I might want to hold onto one or more the books. If so? I can just buy them back from the library’s sale rack. Probably priced at 99 cents. Again, this is about letting go of an item, an object, a thing, feeling, or even a belief, something. Let it go. There’s always recourse. Mars in Leo, let it go, Cancer. Let it go.

Leo: In the nomenclature of an international brand, the term “vente” means “extra-large,” while its original meaning is derived from Italian for “20.” Trivial point 1.

The average cup of coffee has 120 milligrams of caffeine. That one brand, though, usually packs over 200 in a cup of coffee. Trivial point 2.

A “vente” cup of coffee should, do the math, pack 2.5 times as much caffeine as a regular (8 oz.) cup. Trivial point 3.

Mars is in Leo. Mars is like a big cup of coffee, now. A big cup of coffee with approximately 2 or 3 times as much caffeine as a regular cup of coffee. That means more energy; however, you’re around people who appear to be slugs. While the noble slug can get ahead, its pace is, well, like a snail. Maybe a little faster than a snail, it’s like a truck not pulling a trailer, a little lighter, but not by much. Still slow. That’s the problem, you’re like, you just downed one of those cups of coffee that packs 2 or 3 times as much active ingredient as a regular cup of coffee. With good coffee comes great power. Use that power wisely. Might want to slow down on the coffee — or other stimulant — intake. I’m just saying.

Virgo: October’s cloudy dawn, not really heavy clouds, just puffy clouds that would later be white balls of fluff? I thought about fishing. I looked out a waiting room window and, across the street, the bar/club had its name, then flanking the name, on one side, there was a double Mars symbol, to me. Two male symbols. On the other side of the sign, two female symbols. I asked the nurse if the food was any good, across, the street. Taco stand, next to the club. Yes, but apparently, a spot down the street? Even better. I’ve waited in pre-dawn twilight for that lab to open. I’ve looked at the club, and I’ve wondered. Wasn’t until this last time, though, it dawned on me, it probably wasn’t astrology symbolism — it’s a gay club. Never crossed my mind before. I wondered if I could ply my astrological lore in a place that sported obvious symbols from the top of their awning. Never crossed my mind otherwise. This isn’t about gay/straight. This isn’t about good breakfast tacos. This is about perceptions, missed, unobserved, or just misplaced. Like me, I think you’re missing an obvious clue.