Horoscopes by the Fishing Guide to the Stars starting 8.22.2013

“Any strange beast there makes a man.”

Shakespeare’s The Tempest [II.ii.30-2]

Virgo: This year, Virgo starts on Friday. Plus or minus as your mileage might vary, depending on where you are on the planet. The weekend has — to some — a troubling aspect of the Virgo Sun being opposite from Neptune. Me? I’d find a way to make use of this energy. Nebulous, kind of spacey, not that I have a lot of brag about in that area myself, sort of dreamy? All there. Not all there, really. With Mercury further adding in some kind of some extra energy, it’s all about communication. However, I’d stop and think, “Do I really want to say that?”

Happy Birthday, Virgo.

I’d look to the confusion and “spiritual enlightenment” promised by the Neptune/Sun/Mercury influences, and I’d take a break. Every once in a while, doing nothing is the best course of action. That’s my recommendation for your birthday week, this week.

Libra: I dated this one Libra (woman) and she had a certain amount of Virgo in her chart. She displayed a perpetually furrowed brow. Always looked worried. Always seemed disturbed. Always looked as if she had that “pregnant pause” ongoing, like there was a missed comment, hanging in the air. It’s a state of perpetual dismay.

While this isn’t a permanent condition, not for most of my Libra friends, this is an idea that will work for the next couple of days. Imitate her worried look. Imitate that concerned, furrowed brow. Act like there might be a problem, and we should do something about that issue, like, immediately. Pregnant pause. Worried, quizzical, disturbed, or maybe just perturbed look? Works well. Might be no problem at all, but at least you look prepared. Concerned and aware.

Scorpio: My little thing that I plug into the computer and have it charge up? Stupid (phone) stopped charging when I plugged it into the computer. Worked fine on the charger, so it wasn’t the phone, and other things plugged into the ports on the computer were working, printer, scanner, tablet, etc. I plugged the cord — phone cable — into a different slot, and it still didn’t work. I tried it on the laptop, then the charger, and what I discovered was it the cord itself. Just a short, standard USB cable-thing. No big deal, cost all of two dollars, three years ago. Four years, I think.

How a cable quits working? I don’t know. It’s not in a stressed environment. Doesn’t get slammed around, coiled and uncoiled, no heavy objects are set upon it, none of that kind of arduous use. I don’t know why it stopped letting electrons flow. However, I do have a spare, several, one in a travel bag, and another in the cable bin, a huge tub of spare parts and various connectors.

I can spend more time trying to figure out why the cable quit working, or I can just replace the broken part and get on my way. There’s an obvious hint for Scorpio and Saturn. Bigger hint: that cable cost less than a monthly subscription.

Sagittarius: As a Sagittarius, we enter the fog zone for the next few days. It’s not bad, it’s not good, either, but not really that bad, no, it’s just a matter of grasping the elements in play. Most of this can be traced back to Neptune in Pisces, then, rather, in the next few days, opposed, triggered, pummeled by, the Sun and Mercury in Virgo. No sudden moves. Me? I like fishing at this time of the year. Most folks are back-to-school, or last summer blow-out vacation, or something. Think fishing.

Think escape.

Quiet repose, maybe a rod and reel in hand, maybe a summer book, one of those novels you’ve been meaning to read because it is fun, if not exactly highbrow literature. Summer reading. Or fishing in one place you’ve been meaning to get back, but just couldn’t get around to it. With the disposition of the various planets arrayed in such a way as to make “things” foggy for Sagittarius? Relax. Chill. Fish. Cut bait. Nah, let someone else cut bait, we just need to stay out of the way and stay away from sharp implements.

Capricorn: There’s a lingering tension, not really harsh, but still, hovering overhead. Like a thin, gray cloud. Can’t quite place it. I’d give this up to Mars and his location, but you can call it what you want. My solution is to drag out the sketchbook, the notebook, in my case, a pocket notepad with grid lines on it, and do the rough draft.

Rough draft.

Sketched it first with a felt tip, and the ink bled through the page, a little, but not badly. Good rough draft. I flipped to the next page and switched to a pencil. Better. Still not what I was looking for, but it would do. I mean, as an idea, it would do. Eventually, I filled about that notepad with doodles of the same basic concept, over and over. However, in doing so, I was working on the idea, then refining it, and the repeat process forced me to be more clear and more refined about the topic. Eventually, I came up with a workable solution. I started with pen on paper. That’s how we work around this tension, kind of old-fashioned, and maybe a little analog, but you’ll be surprised with your efforts, if you try my path. Less tension, more outcome.

Aquarius: On one side, you’ve got a con man. The other side, there’s a “pimp-daddy.” To me, the con man looks a little too slick, a little too confident, and a little too cocksure of himself. Herself, but I think it’s a male. The other side, not really the exact words I was searching for, but what it looks like there’s a little rooster kind of a fellow. All strut, all talk, all chatter about, well, probably puerile and/or prurient interests. All talk, bluster, hot air on one side and about the same on the other. As the Aquarius, you’re stuck in the middle. Two talkers, two salesman, two shysters, two con artists, two guys who can spin and weave tales of magnificent proportions, and yet, say nothing. One is super-slick. The other, overtly oily. Wouldn’t touch either one. And that’s the suggestion, as this weekend unfolds, wouldn’t suggest you touch either one. I didn’t say “Don’t listen,” and I didn’t say, “don’t pay attention when they whisper in your Aquarius ear,” but I did suggest you don’t buy, give in, go home with, or whatever action that the sales man and con artist proposes.

Pisces: If you are a pure Pisces? If you are a Pisces Sun, Pisces Moon, Pisces everything-else? Then this is a wondrous week full of joy and entertainment, albeit, some of that entertainment value will be derived at the expense of other signs’ comforts. However, if there is a drop, a smidgen, the tiniest amount of your chart that is not pure Pisces? We got some unsettling little bumps. Washboard, dirt road kind of bumps. Two ways to approach that corrugated road. Fly down it at a speed that is unsafe, but ultimately smooth, or slow way down. Fast or super-slow. The Pisces part of you is unaffected, it’s just the pesky other signs that are the cause of this uneven surface (that might slow you down, or, at the very least, jangle your nerves).

Aries: When I moved from the South Side of Austin (Shady Acres Trailer Park alongside Town Lake) to my current posting in South San Antonio, the first noticeable change was weight. I gained, like, 50 pounds. Waist size ballooned up. Part of that was a slightly more sedentary lifestyle and part of that was the best flour tortillas in the world. I’ve dieted, worked out, tried fad after fad for losing weight and nothing seems to work. What I started doing, and this is to help my Aries friends, this week: buying pants with a bigger waist size. Instead of worrying about the size, the label, the size I used to wear? I just bought larger. Usually, these are just cargo shorts, but what it is, doesn’t matter. Bigger waist size. Instead of arguing with me? Why not opt for comfort? A simple trick, one or two sizes larger than you are now? Something as simple as that could fix everything. Opt for comfort because the planets are pushing for discomfort. Get comfortable.

Taurus: It’s one of those ugly scenes that is an urban reality. I watched as an elderly lady verbal berated a “contracted lawn service person.” She was screaming and hollering, yelling invectives at the guy with the mower-blower. The guy, there was a crew present, the guy was just the sweeper. Tiny two-stroke motor purring on his back, a six-inch diameter plastic hose for blowing leafs, twigs and lawn clippings out of the way. He not might have heard a single word she said, other than she was visibly upset.

Here’s how it works, and why Taurus should pay attention: talk to the supervisor. Talk to the guy in charge. Talk to the boss. At least, talk to the crew chief. The guy with the blower on his back? I doubt he heard anything. He might not be an native English speaker, so yelling at him in English, again, the results are not good. Talk to the boss. Crew chief. Someone in charge, who has the authority to change the direction of the mower-blower.

Gemini: I was talking to a Gemini client, just as this unfolded. That client? Got a couple of young kids, she was trying to hustle everyone out the door, off to school, out to daycare, get herself off to work, and get her (lucky, lucky) husband shooed out the door to work, as well. Most Gemini will be familiar with such a drill, and she was talking to me on headset, maybe a Bluetooth earpiece, be my guess. I was only part of the conversation she’s on Left Coast time, so it was mid-morning for me. All that activity. All that energy. Moving, hustling, collecting and collating various data streams all at once? Good thing, as a Gemini, she can work with that. There’s the same frantic and frenetic energy kicking now. Balance, juggle, plead, holler, coerce, beg, threaten, bribe. All in a single breath. For a Gemini, this isn’t hard. However, for a Gemini, this next few days are like this. Seems like you’re working twice as hard and only getting halfway there. I think you’re more successful than that, but you’ve yet to see the real result. Like that client I talked with? She did get everyone loaded up and off in the correct direction. Just felt like it took twice as long. While I listened.

Cancer: Go and read the Leo horoscope. Comes right after Cancer. Read that one, first. Done? Good. Jupiter is the lucky star, and Jupiter usually brings good fortune for the year he’s in your sign. Problem: Cardinal discord.* Here’s my little trick: go fishing. Solo pursuit. Perhaps any activity that is best accomplished alone. Doesn’t involve other people. Not dependent on other folks for any assistance. Makes for a way to work around the cardinal discord that is loose upon the world this week. In Austin, I once caught a fish that might’ve qualified for a lake record, but alas, there was no one else to see it, and who can really believe photos in this day of digital manipulation? No proof. Still, it prevented any other problems. Deal with the cardinal discord by yourself; you’ll find you’re much happier.

*Cardinal Discord(tm): is a new term, Venus squares Pluto squares Uranus squares Jupiter squares Venus. All cardinal signs. The opposite of “harmony” and “grace.”

The (mighty) Leo: The term, “Swipe File,” defines differently from person to person. In one version, it’s an idea dump where anyone’s good idea can be kept, mutated, mutilated and put to use in a different form. In other terms, it’s an idea that’s been laundered, and I suppose, it could also refer to some file that was illegally purloined. This idea for Leo? Straight out of a swipe file, here. Got it from a client. The idea is to go through old clothes you no longer want. Throw them all in a box. Put that box at the back of the closet. Anything in the box that remains untouched in the next year? Toss. Charity, recycle, something. The idea to get a box, and to put it at the back of the closet, and to see if there’s anything that gets dragged out of the box, in the next year? That was the purloined idea. Applying it to The Leo? All mine. Mercury and the Sun exit Leo, and Mars enters. Between all that coming and going, and especially with Mars heating things up? You might get a little zealous about what you’re dumping. Why the box, and why you should wait a year.