Horoscopes by the Fishing Guide to the Stars starting 2.7.2013

“Superfluous branches
We lop that bearing boughs may live.”

Shakespeare’s The Tragedy of King Richard the Second [III.iv.70-1]

Aquarius: Hearts and flowers, and all of that romantic stuff, right in the middle of Aquarius. Makes no sense. Here’s the kicker, all the planets are in Pisces now, except the Sun, which isn’t really a planet, but a star. All that romantic hyper-marketing push, all trying to sway us in one direction. Don’t misunderstand me, I’ve both courted, and been courted by, Aquarius. Love them a lot. But there’s simple issue with the heart, flowers and other associated imagery — that doesn’t work for Aquarius. The sentiment is fine. Call it anything you want. It’s just, that pudgy cherub with wings and little heart-tipped arrow? None of that works for my good Aquarius friends. Venus is, as of yet, still in your sign. Snarky, sarcastic comments, while I think you’re very droll and quite amusing, I’m the oddball here. Embrace some of the Venus-like energy and play along with the seasonal images, even though really don’t fit you.

Pisces: The effect only gets more pronounced as the week wears on. I was going to invoke St. Vitus, and his dance, the St. Vitus Dance, as that more properly evoked what I was reaching for. It’s like an itch, perhaps a spot on your back that you can’t quite get to, maybe a place where you can’t reach, and you dance around, trying to reach that one spot. (Hence the St. Vitus Dance.)

I looked him up, as I knew about the dance and the name of the dance moves before I started fine-tuning this for Pisces. The other action I’ve seen, I was getting into a car with a girlfriend, a bee, probably an urban honey-bee, flew in with me. I hopped out so fast, then did a little dance to make sure the bee wasn’t on me. Stingers, those guys have big stingers. Don’t like that. Bee escaped, but I’ll bet the original attraction was the fruity car-freshener. I did the dance. You’ll be doing the dance, too, sometime, like, maybe all the next few days. The kicker? Act like you meant to do it.

Aries: There’s a coffee shop on the Texas coast, a place I favor. Small, independent, they also offer Gelato. ‘The Island Grasshopper’ is a double or triple espresso with a scoop of Mint Chocolate and a scoop of dark chocolate. The effects of that, that’s two, solid scoops of gelato, which is nothing more than ice cream with no whipped air, then that sugar and chocolate combination is floated in espresso, at least twice as strong.

The rush.

I’m way not a chocolate person, so I wouldn’t bother. Still, one of my fishing buddies, last fall, we were headed out to fish and he threatened to get one of those grasshopper drinks, first thing in the morning. I think we settled for 24-hour convenience store coffee, instead. I’m not sure I want to be around someone as the sugar and caffeine kick in and crash. Not in a boat, while I’m intent on fishing. Aries, though, you’re like that, even now. My first suggestion? Skip the overdose of good stuff, chocolate, sugar, cream, eggs, whatever goes in the gelato and then double-dosed with espresso (locally roasted coffee beans). The planets will have you vibrating just fine with no chemically induced assistance. My suggestion? Skip the overdose. (Avoid the diabetic crash, too.)

Taurus: There’s a hint, look, I know it’s the patently false romance time, but there’s a suggestion, one way, or another, time to make a decision.

A very Taurus decision.

What works.

What doesn’t work.

What’s good for you, and, in at least one situation, what’s not good for your fine Taurus self. Time to decide. This week. The sun is in a fixed sign, New Moon in Aquarius, this week, and Venus squares Saturn, which is opposite from you. Time to make a decision about that romantic element. The other side of this, usually, see, there’s a Saturn element at play. An older lover. Not creepy old, but a few years senior. Think about it, wait until we get done with planets and their energies? Might just be a kindly older person who is a good influence, or someone to bounce an idea off of.

Its a time to stop and assess what direction, romantically — or otherwise — to go.

Gemini: Bluff.

“I know what you’re thinking — ‘Did he fire six shots or only five?’ Well, to tell you the truth, in all this excitement, I’ve kinda lost track myself. But, being as this is a .44 Magnum, the most powerful handgun in the world and would blow your head clean off, you’ve got to ask yourself one question: ‘Do I feel lucky?’ Well, do ya, punk?” —Eastwood, in the film, Dirty Harry.

Bluff.

I never saw that film. I’ve seen the clips, been exposed to enough of the material through the zeitgeist, but still, never seen it myself. Sheltered childhood. However, I kept thinking of the scene that I’ve never seen, and I kept thinking, that’s the way to do it.

Gemini, for this week? How lucky do you feel?

Cancer: It’s a matter of a little rational thought during an otherwise irrational time. Most people are nuts. Notice that, too? Yeah, thought so. Here’s the not-so-insane portion of the heavens, that would be Cancer, the Moon-Children. Children of the Moon. Motivated by the Moon. Looks like I’m starting to leak a little around the edges, and that’s not good, I might be crazy. Like the rest of them, huh?

Be the voice of rational thought.

The dark of the moon makes you a little reticent. Not always a good quality and with the preponderance of relative insanity around you? Perhaps now more so than before, it’s time to be the voice of rational thought.

The (mighty) Leo: The average web user is willing to click no more than three times on a website before hitting his or hers “I’m out of here” button. Either a back button, or close the browser window, or something, you know, escape key. Three clicks to get someone’s attention. With this being a week that leads up to marketing, according to the hype, a most romantic holiday, with all the hearts, flowers and chubby cherubs, the deal is, as The Leo, you have three clicks. Maybe two clicks, that’s all, to close the deal. The point is, don’t wait. If the person hits The Leo information, and if that person doesn’t linger for more than three clicks? Skip it. Venus moves into a position opposite you. If it’s not meant to be, you’ll know, like in fifteen seconds. Or less.

Three clicks.

Virgo: The Virgo mind is a wonder of precision and accuracy. Well, like, you know, usually it is a miraculous device capable of processing a myriad of divergent input and data points and rendering a decision with lightening alacrity. Usually? Yes. This isn’t about something as mundane as Mercury Retrograde, rather this address other issues, most notably the planets moving through both Aquarius and Pisces.

The astrological objects thus arrayed? There’s going to be a degree of confusion and second-guessing that doesn’t look good on my dear Virgo. I can’t circumvent your second-guessing. I can’t eliminate the yes-and-no, back-and-forth equivocation. Instead of guessing and quite possibly guessing wrong? Stop. I’d put off the decision for the time being. There is no decision that can be correct, so stop trying to please everyone when no one will be happy.

Libra: There’s always been a lively discussion about what Shakespeare’s language really sounded like. No recordings exist, and popular culture, over the years, has tainted us thusly. Language is a fluid, mobile, mutable beast. Constantly changing and evolving, it is, as always, a fickle mistress.

My current estimation, doesn’t involve any time travel, or a seance, nothing like that, but my current thinking, is that the Presbyterians from the American Deep South, with some Appalachian overtones, that probably most closely approximates the cadence, tonal qualities.

Personally, I enjoy the spelling and grammatical inconsistencies in the various folio editions of Shakespeare’s canon.

I’ve joked about the Libra inability to decide, in various forums, but there are times, like face-to-face with questions, this week? Sometimes, an ability to conjure up a reasonable explanation is as good as some fact-based, peer-reviewed source.

It’s OK to make stuff up if it sounds plausible enough.

Scorpio: “Drop you like a needle on the record, scratch my itch/Watch you walk in circles hit the beat/Drop you like a needle on the record, flip my switch/Go around in circles, hit the beat.” I got that from a Deadmau5 song. Not the original source, I don’t think.

I’ve already written about that one artist and my fascination with the geeky side of the story, where the artist’s name came from and why it was spelled like that. Then there’s the idea the music was quite popular for a brief time. There’s still a very Scorpio flavor to the tune’s catchiest lyric, some darkly evocative imagery, “Drop you like a needle….” I think there’s frankly Freudian, psycho-sexual portents in the song. The artist himself? He’s a Capricorn. Doesn’t matter.

Struggling against Saturn’s ire, there’s a jolt that comes from the Sun and Venus, and part of Saturn’s message to you will be revealed in these next few days.

Sagittarius: When I lived in Arizona, while I was in school there, I learned that the desert, my beloved American Southwest has imported just about every blooming plant and that means there’s always an allergen in the air. As I’ve traveled and matured, settled back in my native Texas, allergies are just a way of life. Towards that, when I travel, I have a grab-bag of medication that I carry.

Mostly over-the-counter substances, but there are few that have labels and prescriptions. It’s a weird medicine bag, tailored to my needs. Funny thing, last week, I was home and I ran out of a certain compound, Wasn’t in the bathroom’s medicine cabinet. I had to dig it out of my travel gear. I tend to favor duplicates of everything, and that way I’ve always got a spare. It’s a crazy concoction, fine-tuned for my needs. My little ritual and herbs, spices, and medical crap won’t work for everybody. However, as a Sagittarius, we’ve got make sure we’ve got what we need. There’s subtle balance, and now, more so than other times, that effective chemical balance is important.

Capricorn: There’s an order to the universe. There’s a cosmic kind of structure wherein tiny things, sub-atomic particles, rotate around and make slightly larger objects, like atoms, and those combine with other atoms and make molecules, and there’s a harmonious, structured, ordered way that matter combines and makes the world as we see it.

It’s simple, straightforward.

When one item falls out of sync, though, then there are problems. I’d like to suggest there’s a way to work around the problems. There’s a way to address some of the issues and work through, around, or get passed some of the problems. There’s a way around this.