- “Let none presume
To wear an undeserved dignity.”
Shakespeare’s The Merchant of Venice [II.ix.42-3]
Aries: Talk about getting something backwards? The way this was delivered, it falls in one of those sort of amusing comments, at least to me. A friend was explaining about a sexual harassment situation. Works at a large corporation. Rules, bylaws, company guidelines, and from my own files? Don’t date the help. However, this one, she had a different way of seeing it. “If he’s cute, and hitting on me? It’s flirting. If he’s not cute? I’m calling HR.” It’s possible to pin this a number of different ways. I found it darkly comic. I was reminded that I came of age when it was possible to flirt outrageously and not have it be considered out-of-place. Wasn’t considered harassment, at least not in my mind. I’m also a little more “equal opportunity” when it came to such flirtations. As an Aries, though, it’s important to learn the distinctions, and unlike me, it’s really not OK to flirt with the cute ones but leave the regular ones out to suffer the wrath of HR. Not cool. Don’t be a tool, not now. It’s plenty of influences, but mostly Mars. Can leave the wrong message.
Taurus: The bumper sticker read, “Fish hard!” Underneath that, there was a subsidiary line, “Girls fish too!” More myth than reality, but I’m not counting. Buddy of mine has a standing date to guide with “Babes on the Bay” tournament, every year. It could happen. But that’s not what this is about. What that bumper sticker reminded me?
Spirit. Avocation. Devotion. Pursuit with passion. Go for it. In other words, there’s going to be a distraction, in the next couple of days, someone will try to dissuade you from achieving whatever that goal is. The Taurus goal. Doesn’t much matter, whatever you want, there’s a hint that someone is trying to shake from that destination. People, places, (false) portents, all trying to get you off track. That bumper sticker? All trying to shake you from your goal. Stick to that goal. Focus. Laser-like focus will be rewarded.
Gemini: St. Anthony of Padua, the patron saint of lost items? (Hint: Gemini, like lost car keys?) St. Anthony’s Day is in Gemini, and that makes my present home town of San Antonio a Gemini town. For a large metropolis, this town can have an uncanny small town feel about it. I watched, I was pedestrian, observing, as a busy, six-lane thoroughfare came to a complete halt while a school bus stopped. Let the kids out. Red lights flashed, and, as is the law, all the cars, on both sides, stopped. I haven’t seen this in a city. I’ve seen it in the countryside, one morning, heading to a favorite lake, in the pre-dawn dark, I stopped behind a school bus as a luminous backpack hopped out and boarded. I obeyed the law and stayed stopped. School bus rules and tickets are notorious for hurting an otherwise perfect record. Out in the rural areas, I understand, but seeing this happen on a winter afternoon, a busy street, near downtown? Made me think about Gemini in respect to Mars. Slow down. When the flashing red light come on and the little “STOP” sign swings out? This isn’t a Gemini stop, this a full stop until the lights are off. You’ll thank me when you realize there was an unmarked cop car, two cars back. Or just on the other side. The “STOP” sign means just that. Not a typical, Gemini, California, rolling stop. Full stop.
Cancer: Agitation is not your friend. The issue is clear but it’s just going to get worse if you keep aggravating it. Stop picking at it! Funny how the same advice comes back around, isn’t it now? Here, see, Mars? Other stuff? Sun in Aries? I was walking, as is my afternoon routine, and I kept hearing a clicking sound. At first, I thought it as bad audio, a CD I ripped onto a portable player and that was making the clicking noise. Like a record skipping, only digital. I pulled the earphones out. Still heard it. The strap on my sandal was loose, but only barely. Every foot step resulted in a tiny slap of metal on leather, on metal, at the strap’s junction. Tiny rivet was hitting the buckle, click. Click. Click. Instead of stopping and affecting a roadside fix, I just kept on, albeit without the earphones. The gentle slap of metal on metal, the click, as it were, at first, it was annoying. I let it turn into a rhythm I could understand. Turn that annoyance into a funky dance beat. Or whatever. You’re going get agitated. What you do with it? Like I did? Disconnect a little.
The (mighty) Leo: There are days when I can’t even begin to make this stuff up. I was looking for a Saint’s Day, one of the special Catholic Saint’s Days thing because I find the connection rather amusing. The holy communion of saints, to me, speaks of older religions, but I’m ill-prepared for any kind of a theological, seminary discussion. The site I tapped for the saint-day was under the purview of the Catholic Diocese of San Antonio, whatever that church arm is called. They have, from the looks of it, maybe a half-dozen high priests. Not what this is about. I clicked then link, then to Saint’s by Day, and then I looked in the corner. Typical search box. Only, this was Catholic, as in High Catholic, the Roman Catholic variety. Above the web search form? “Saint Anthony, help me find…” St. Anthony is the saint invoked to find lost items. To have him appear on the web above a search form? There’s a level of amusement, a level of playfulness, a slightly twisted and sardonic sense of humor at work. Look: Mars is doing his best to mess you up. The Sun/Uranus thing will be even more unsettling. Be amused. Find the humor, like, St. Anthony de Padua, above the web search form.
Virgo: The lyric from the song? “Driven by the planets and their movements…” and it’s a fragment. The beauty of a digital version of a song? I can run it forward, backward, sideways, and there’s no trouble, doesn’t wear out. I can transcribe the lyrics as exactly as I hear them, over and over. Like tape, only better, less mechanical wear. The idea of running a tape back and forth, or in this example, wheeling it back and forth with an iPod, the idea is to make sure I got that down as exactly as I heard it. Not that I claim any great ability as a transcriptionist, or that I know much about lyrical content, and that’s certainly not what this is about. As the mighty Virgo? There’s a task, soon, this week, that requires that kind of precision. Running it backwards and forwards, over and over, just to make sure you heard the lyrics correctly. Don’t want to pause, or get it wrong, “Excuse me while I kiss this guy,” right? Repeat as need to be to make sure you’re getting the correct message.
Libra: AC/DC, the band? Sure you’ve heard them. Heard of them, anyway, right? I got stuck in a rut and couldn’t seem to shake myself free. I started listening to old-time rock-n-roll, sort of a “proto-metal,” if you will, and consider the age of the band, that’s what it is. The band itself coalesced into one form, part way through the career, and that’s where it’s at, now. That one song, I get stuck, and that’s what I’ll dig out on the player. Some kind of hard-driving rock beat, listened to way too many times. Worth the 99 cents, or whatever, just to have that song to scrape back and forth, when I’m at position that I can’t seem to move. Nodding my head, sometimes tapping my feet, a sedentary version of rocking out. There’s a single task that is left undone in Libra. Since nothing else seems to be working, borrow some action from my corner, and put on some kind of music that you know gets you motivated. I confessed my aural sins, time for Libra to spool up something, I’d hope hard rock, but whatever, to get you motivated. Simulate a beat for you to follow.
Scorpio: I’m thinking of just one Scorpio for this message, but more than one might find it useful. I was riding along the freeway, headed to a meeting, headed to the store, maybe going home, I don’t recall. I do remember a slight sense of urgency, as in, I was meeting with a client at some point. Before, after, I don’t recall. We passed a sign on the freeway access road, and in my mind’s eye, I saw where the sign said, “The Player,” and an arrow pointing to a restaurant. I glanced back, as the name, “The Player,” that didn’t seem correct. It wasn’t. The signage was for a restaurant called “La Playa” (The Beach in Spanish). My mind translated several disparate pieces of information, all at once, as one of my clients was talking about how that place was a “meet market,” old-school, and the patrons were players. Hence my mental transference. The images of geriatric set folks with gold chains and tired pick-up lines was frightening enough. My mental hiccup, that what this was about. With the way this plays out? This week? We’ve long since discussed the approbation of Mars, right? He’s going to tickle you like that scene tickled me. However, as a circumspect Scorpio? Keep it to yourself.
Like, don’t publish it on a website. Like I did.
Sagittarius: “Make go.”
Too long ago to recall, I worked in a motorcycle shop. Several, actually. I’ve used variations of this work order, over the years, but it’s back. The customer would bring a motorcycle in various stages of undead, usually the bike would arrive in the back of a truck, and the work order? Simple command.
“Make go.”
Typically, in this day and age, there should be a price associated with the project. Back then, frequently, there was no real price limit, and as the guy at the bottom of the pecking order, I got to do the ugly work. First, hose it off, then ascertain what was the most broken part. What would be the easiest item to fix to make the motor start? Simple process. Trouble-shooting, at its most basic, am I right? The work order said it all.
“Make go.”
As this week unfolds, we’re faced with an eerily similar situation, like that work order, that simple set of instructions. This isn’t about making pretty, making nice or anything other than the most rudimentary of repairs. Simple command, not complicated.
“Make go.”
Capricorn: Pay attention to the details. At the bottom of one of my websites, there’s a canned piece of text — a disclaimer — then dynamic text that pulls one in series of standard disclaimers — then another piece of static text. It’s a finite detail, but there’s static text on either side of a piece of randomly rotating text. Enclosed like that, it appears fluid, dynamic. It’s not. Well, it is dynamic because the middle bit changes, but at each end? Like bookends? The static texts remain the same. No change. The middle part does change. Over the years, there have been several hilarious instances where someone reading the page gets caught up on the rotating bit of text, and then, coming back to read it again? It’s not there, and there’s another disclaimer in its place.
“I thought it said, ‘Do Not Exceed Capacity,’ no really, I saw that on the bottom of the page!”
It did. Now it’s changed. In approximately 10,000 page views, that exact comment will float back up. Got a favorite part of the rotating banner of disclaimers? Let me know. Otherwise? Pay attention to details. Don’t let those details bite back. It goes like this “static text then “dynamic text” then “static text” to close.
Aquarius: Study methods vary. Some folks learn by doing. Other folks learn by watching. There’s an expression for this, several, but they escape me now. I was considering my own methods, and one habit that paid off with me learning new ways to mangle words? Copy. I would look at a passage from a book, a crisp piece of dialogue, a particularly evocative bit of prose, maybe some posy, and I’ll copy that over. Transcribe the piece. Type it, really, as I’m not too inclined to write anything by hand. My typing is bad enough — my handwriting is even worse. So I’ll take a piece and copy it over. Usually, I’ll post it someplace. No big deal. One time, it was a short, three lines. I taped it up on the file cabinet to remind me of something. The clue? Don’t be afraid to copy something. Phrase, quote, the way an image is framed, copy. When I do copy material like this, I’m careful to always give attribution, and I mean, more than, “I saw it on website someplace…” Still, imitation? Good place to start. It’s how you find that Aquarius rhythm. In the next couple of days. Copy.
Pisces: One of my Pisces buddies, he promised to do a favor for me. I gave him a quick, astrological sketch, off the top of my head, and he promised, swore an oath, that he was going to return the favor by undertaking a certain — for my benefit — task. Goal. I’ve yet to see an fruits of his labors. Which is why I charge money for readings because, if I were to depend entirely on the kindness of strangers, like my Pisces buddy, it wouldn’t get done. Ever. I’ll be honest, he is a bit of a flake, more so than the average Pisces (and there really is no average Pisces who reads this). I knew that before he made his promise, as this one guy? His promises tend to be a bit weak. Don’t misunderstand me, I knew this, going in. No surprise. As everything seems to fall apart in Pisces this week? Think along a binary route. You can be like my buddy, and when he reads this, he might get motivated, or you can be like me. I’m not really worried about it. I knew this, going in. As a decent Pisces who follows through? Might want to be willing to give the flakes some slack. It’s not like their empty promises were unexpected behavior, now is it?
