Horoscopes by Fishing Guide to the Stars starting 6.27.2013

“An oven that is stopp’d, or river stay’d,
Burneth more hotly, swelleth with more rage”

Shakespeare’s “Venus and Adonis,” lines 331-2

Cancer: Mute button. I have one on my phone. I have one on my tablet. I even have a keyboard command for the computer, to stop all output of audio. The mute button, works wonders. Jupiter is the lucky star and suggests many successful events, happy tidings, good news, all of that, in the near future. Little Mr. Mercury is Retrograde, and that means we all need to step back and take a big, Cancerian lungful, hold it, and pause. Hit the mute button. Jupiter is in Cancer, as is that aforementioned Retrograde Mercury, as is Venus. Jupiter excites, promotes, exhilarates. Weigh that against Mercury making you behave, well, like me, with the best possible comment at the worst possible time.

Mute button: use it.

The (mighty) Leo: I have a special gesture for Leo, for this week. “With Mercury Retrograde, I can only imagine what that gesture is!” I knew there would be one Leo who respond thusly. Hence the problem, your Majesty. I am properly reverential. I might be alone, but I always bow to the mighty Leo. However, that one gesture?

It’s simple. Practice the parade wave. Practice the wave, as if you were riding on the float, in parade, and all attention was focused on you — the way you like it. In private. See, the Sun, Mercury (Retrograde), and Jupiter are all in Cancer. Comes before you. Venus? She’s in Leo, or is, in a moment and hits the first half-dozen degrees of your sign (best fixed-fire sign of them all!) Venus is why I got hung up on the idea of practicing the parade wave. Perfect way to handle this week. Practice the mighty Leo Parade Wave (in private).

Virgo: I was having a meal with a Virgo client. “Family style” BBQ, means it’s all served on butcher paper, and we’re stuck pulling it off the paper into our mouthes. She had a plastic fork, and she was making a point about Mercury Retrograde. Got to the place in the conversation where I was afraid to reach for meat as the plastic fork would wind up in the back of my hand.

This violence is a function of Mars, in Gemini, squaring the Virgo Sun. It is not a Mercury Retrograde pattern. Oh yes, Mercury is retrograde and that carries the usual problems, but the violence? Is that really necessary? Apparently, it is. Perhaps this was just waving the fork around to emphasize a point. I just didn’t want the plastic tines in the back of my hand. As a Virgo, consider how Mars is pushing you forward, perhaps with some uncharacteristic violence of one sort or anther, then weigh that against the Mercurial Shifts occurring. My simple hypothesis is that Mercury isn’t bad, just not the best time to undertake new stuff. That, and even in times like this? BBQ doesn’t cure all.

Libra: I had a client lecture me about the perils of traveling while Mercury is retrograde. I have a completely different opinion. I’ve found that travel, when Mercury is retrograde, I don’t always wind up where I think I’m supposed to go, but I wind up where I’m supposed to be. For whatever reason.

I’ve also found that travel, under difficult conditions like this, it requires two or three preparations. A good, fat book to read. Analog, not digital. Paperback, or hardback, but a substantial novel is important. Text, textbook, The Complete Works of Shakespeare (7th Edition), something.

Computer, smartphone, tablet, some kind of electrical device and I carry a spare charger for that device, when I’m traveling under these conditions. As a Libra, you’re wondering where this is going. Carry extra stuff. You’re going to need it because there will be a delay, and that delay? Perfect time to read, educate yourself in some area you weren’t previously aware of.

Scorpio: I built a website called Make Sure You Get Yours dot com because I was trying to play with the words. I was discussing planets in retrograde, like Mars, Venus and Mercury, and several people pointed out that there was a sexual overtone to my discussion, romance and its relative, sex. So the title, Make Sure You Get Yours dot com was a spin-off of the tone of the discussion.

Borne out a sense of play, and sense of the absurd, with a strong (Scorpio) sexual overtone, “Yeah, I meant it like that.” That web address serves as a catch-all for three retrograde planet ideas. Serves as a place to catch the material and point to other locations for specifics. As such, it’s merely a way-station on the web, not really much of anything in, and of, itself. While Mercury is backwards? You need a way station. And you might also want to think about the title that I used for that site itself, as in, while this Mercury is backwards? Might not get your hopes too high about achieving that certain goal. Which one? I leave that up to you. I’m just the harbinger.

Sagittarius: I have one friend, a delightful new age fruitcake. This, coming from a guy who writes horoscopes, so it’s not like I’m calling the pot, kettle thing. Everything to this one friend is all about “energy.” I’m reminded, when she gets on her little tempest in a teacup about this or that, whatever the problem is, “I can’t stand that one guy — he has such negative energy!” I’m reminded that what I find objectionable in her is a reflection of something I don’t like to look at in myself. It’s the mirror.

This Mercury Retrograde is about reflections. What we see in other people, and why does that offend me so? That’s the question, and I don’t have an easy answer, not for our Sagittarius selves. However, as an idea, this Mercury Retrograde is is about reflections — maybe projections — of what we see of ourselves in other people.

Capricorn: The first prism I played with was an elongated triangular piece of heavy, clear plastic. Wasn’t even real glass, just heavy, cast clear plastic. Still did the trick, though, would split and refract light, the myriad colors of the rainbow, across the surfaces, usually a wall. The planets, and this Mercury Retrograde, it’s all about that refracted light. Watching as a single stream of light gets scattered into the colors of the rainbow, literally. That’s the message, as we watch the single, singular focus of Capricorn get scattered. Broken up into component parts and then scattered across the kitchen wall. I did a lot of experimenting in the kitchen, as a child. You’re going to get scattered. I would hope, like that prism, the light passing though there, I would hope that you get scattered in an orderly fashion. Doubt that will happen. Don’t worry, though, you haven’t lost your focus, you’re just being scattered. It might appear that you’ve lost it, though, as Mercury does this, you know.

Aquarius: Attributed to baseball great Babe Ruth: “How to hit home runs: I swing as hard as I can, and I try to swing right through the ball.” With where things are, planet-wise? I suggest we listen to Babe Ruth’s advice about how to hit a home run. It’s work. That moment at the plate, that moment when the pitcher is winding up? Years, decades, even, of Aquarius training has gone into this. What to do? Hit that ball, like, you don’t stop when the bat makes contact with the ball, you follow through. Act as if you’re going to punish it right out of the park. Babe Ruth (Aquarius, why we use this example), he had several comments about this kind of work. Another one that comes to mind, while Mercury is Retrograde?

“Never let the fear of striking out get in your way.”

Pisces: I was queried for ideas for a “New Age topic about men.” I wasn’t tapped to write the article, just asked what would be a good topic. Same topic, right now, just for Pisces, male or female. Sunscreen. Or just a hat. It’s hot. It’s the middle of the long, hot summer in Texas. What’s the great secret for protection from Mercury in Retrograde?

Wear a hat. A straw hat with a brim is best, unless you’re fishing then either a ball cap, or, as it was referred to overseas, a “Bubba hat,” or even just a bandana. The secret? I used this a while back as an example, but the idea is that some simple cover will be the difference between a good day on the water, fishing, or a good day with post-fishing disaster, as the sunburn is too much. Simple solution?

Wear a hat.

Aries: With Mars, in Gemini, I’d expect everything to take twice as long. Or, as a good Aries, you’re reading this, so you are a very good Aries, you know that Mercury is retrograde in Cancer, and that it squares you. So let’s rip on the idea, Mars, your planet, in Gemini, the sign of the twins, let’s burn one and figure that everything will take twice as long. Or, you’ll just have to expend twice the energy to get some task done.

Bad news, with this “Mercury is backwards,” in Cancer, along with Jupiter and the Sun, both in Cancer, too. Instead of taking twice the energy? It’s going to be 4X as much. There’s an easy way to deal with this, and I’m nothing, if not a lazy one, so the easy way? Pause. Let someone else try the first three times.

Taurus: I’ve got one Taurus client, she’s a tall woman, relatively speaking and not a small one, at that. Yet she moves with a stately, slightly sedate pace and grace. She doesn’t walk, she rolls, her hips sway, usually wears long peasant (hippie) dresses and her gentle movement invariable attracts the attention of males. Not just straight guys, but almost all guys watch.

Long, possibly artificially, black hair, like the raven, cascading down, a stray wisp in front of her face. Very Taurus. For the next two weeks? If she follows my strict advice, it will be okay. No talking. No verbal communication. Not talking on the phone, no “Hi, how are you?” Nothing. Zip the lip. Zip the Taurus lip. It’s okay write e-mail, articles, web logs, whatever. Typing is fine. Talking? No, not fine. “But I have to talk!” Maybe. Maybe it would be a good exercise to see how you can limit the talking in the next few days. Limit the damage. Limit the talking and thereby minimize damage — manage the damage.

Gemini: The ever-present iPhone? There’s a four-way, 9 mm stereo plug that goes with the earphones, the earbuds. The ever-present white earbuds. The microphone for the headset also serves as a “clicker” to advance the songs on the music player. Here’s what will happen, you’ll get to playing with the clicker, and you’ll keep clicking through the songs. Too bad there’s no longer a game called, “Name that song,” as you’d be a clear champion, based on the way you’re skipping through the songs. Three notes, “Know it.” Two notes, “Heard it yesterday, all the way through.” Click. Click, click, click. Before this horoscope is up, you will have broken the clicker. You broke it. Merely clicking from track to track, in rapid fire motion, all-too-often. As a Gemini, if you don’t do something to slow down the twin effects of Mars (in Gemini) and Mercury (retrograde), you’re going to break it.