- “For necessity of present life,
I must show out a flag and sign of love”
- Shakespeare’s Othello, the Moor of Venice [I.i.162-3]
Horoscopes by the Fishing Guide to the Stars starting 8.28.2014
Virgo: I was driving a girlfriend’s car, and the girlfriend, along a deserted piece of West Texas highway. She had been “drinking.” I was tired, but relatively speaking, stone-cold sober, so we opted to have me drive. We came to a crossroads, I suggested left, she vehemently slurred to the right, and I stopped the car. Didn’t turn either way while I waited for her senses, my patience, or a cosmic sign to indicate which way to go. While I was sure, I do understand that I am, at best, directionally challenged. While we were stopped there, a cop rolls up behind us. He blipped the lights. I just put her car in park, and fished out my license. As soon as his flash light poked into the car, the girlfriend started with an earful about where we were going, that’s she’d been drinking, and I was driving her car, and she had registration, insurance in the glove box. The cop looked at me with, I’d like to imagine, sympathy. I tried to shut her up, but to no avail. I asked for directions. He shone his light to the right, “Be careful.” I’m pretty sure he also thought, “Good luck with her.” Turns out, despite her impaired state, it was to the right. Couple of birthday suggestions: don’t drink and drive. Ask directions. Don’t talk back to the cops. Ask, then wait for a sign and one will appear.
Libra: As a Libra, see me in person and I almost always use the term, “Joiner,” but as a Libra? There’s a great part of you that likes to join causes, join groups and sign up for stuff. Sign up for my weekly email here. Now, as a Libra, there’s a hint that, other than the blatant and obvious plug for my own email list, what you should or shouldn’t join?
This next few days is about time alone. Maybe not “alone” alone, but still, a few stolen moments by yourself helps. That means, in the next few days? Don’t join anything. Not a good time for you to be signing up for anything, well, besides my horoscope newsletter, but other than that? Not signing up for anything new. Lets look and see if there is something you can get away from, for change.
Scorpio: For several years, one of my email signatures read, “Merry Christmas!” For me, this was a protest act. I’m a huge fan of articulate and symbolic protest, part of what makes this country a great place, I follow the rules and question them at every step. The “Merry Christmas” signature line was about a piece of Texas legislation that insured it was okay to use that line in any message; it was part of a conservative, right-wing (nut-job) agenda. I’m about as far as can be from the fascist right. Not as liberal as some think, but this isn’t about my views, just my subtle form of protest. It was silly legislation, as part of the Texas silly season, oftentimes referred to as our state’s policy makers (and enforcers). Towards that end, I appended the line “Merry Christmas” to every outgoing email. My protest. Silly is as silly does; their laws, I’m just playing by the rules. Stupid rule, if you ask me, and no one did. Still, if you’ve emailed me in the last year and half, and if you really read it, there, at the bottom, underneath my name, it says, “Merry Christmas.” Kind of silly, but there’s a point to this. Protest. I’ll doubt we can stem the encroaching political tide (right wing/left wing, pick one). Still, as a Scorpio, as Mars aligns with Saturn, and the New Moon kicks off a news season? Pick a protest act that is subtle yet packed with meaning. I prefer silly, too, but that’s me. Merry Christmas.
Sagittarius: Working in a showroom-ballroom in a motel, in West Texas, I watched as a woman entered. As she passed close to my table, I asked about her birthday, offering a range of dates, a window of about three days. Middle date was it. I nailed it. Looked like either a good guess, or some kind of cosmic porthole opened, allowing me the ability to see her birthday.
There’s a third option, one that makes more sense to me. She looked like an exact double of a woman I dated, back in the day. Same birthday. Astrological twins. Educated guess, with healthy dose of finely-tuned intuition leavened on top. Plus I’m a loquacious and occasionally flirtatious. Works. Listening to the intuition is big part of this week’s message. Distinguishing between the voices in your head and the crazy-making voices? Good luck.
Capricorn: While I prefer to think of my tastes as “eclectic,” more than one person has suggested that I’m just weird. From classical to neo-classical to high-blown art to honky-tonks and punk dives, I like material that covers large swaths. Which was even better when I was offered one CD that was considered “Dark Trance Techno,” and for all that I deem holy? I couldn’t find anything dark or techno about any of the cuts. Ambient, sure, maybe trance, more experimental than anything else. Artwork on the cover suggested “dark,” but the tunes themselves weren’t that ominous. I have a selection of “death metal.” That’s dark, and sometimes, it sounds ugly, too. That’s “dark” music. I might even have a sample of some “Black Metal,” look it up, that’s right up there with its ominous title and the music itself is matched by its namesake. I’d wager, if I put that music on for you, right now, you’d find it light and cheery. Sort of explains a lot about either your tastes or mine. No matter, this week is about other peoples’ labels and your own, Capricorn label.
Aquarius: Ray Manzarek was an Aquarius, and he was the keyboards for the Doors. While in the mall, I heard one of the signature lines coming in over the local (mall) sound system. When did revolutionary music become audio pablum for typical suburban malls?
When did we sink so low? How could this happen? Why was I in a mall in the first place? Hot summer’s day, mall was air-conditioned and they have an Apple Store. All I need, good walk. But the Doors? “C’mon baby light my fire,” with signature riffs, the grand keyboard, think organ, dashing through the audio. In the middle of American commercialism mall. The Aquarius should be affronted by such a turn of events. There’s something “not right” in our worlds, and I don’t have a clear direction to fix it. I know there’s something wrong, what can I do to make this better?
“C’mon baby light my fire…”
Pisces: The way I interpreted the instructions, “If the facts don’t fit the situation, then the facts must be changed.” As a Pisces, as a Neptunian-influenced individual, as things are going along? Something doesn’t seem to fit with the other things. What can we do? Change the fitting and the fitted parts. If the facts aren’t right, then we change the facts. If the pieces don’t work that way, get out a hammer and bang on them until they do work that way. I’ve found that gentle coercion tends to work better than violence, but I’m not afraid to find a large rock to bang something into place. I have very few hand tools anymore, and most of what I want or need in the line of hand tools are good for opening up computer cases or prying apart a smartphone. If I wanted something big enough to really bang on this, like Pisces? I’d wander out to the alley and pick up a spare cinder block or old brick. Still, think about it, if the situation doesn’t fit the facts? Clearly the facts must be changed. Am I right, or what?
Aries: I have a great variety of clients and I enjoy listening to their intricate stories. I was thinking about one, and I was looking at the Aries chart for this week, and I kept thinking, “Yes, you are right, but you’re not operating with all the information.” It was about a topic where I have a depth of information, some would say learning, and the client wasn’t operating with all the available data. I knew there was more to the story, more to the back-story, more to tale than what was proffered.
As an Aries, there’s more to your tale, and this is the problem, as there is more to your story, you are best served if you take the time to fill the rest of us in with that back-story. The extenuating circumstances. Can’t take anything as it is just stated, face value, not this next few days. The other point? Look and dig before you start suggesting, “This is the only way this can be done.” Or, the worst? “I’m sure I have all the facts.”
“But I do have all the facts I need.”
Taurus: At my age and station in life, too much time in the AC dries out my throat, which, in turn causes a minor summer cold. Too much summer time in civilized places isn’t healthy for me. My cure has always been a “Labor Day-ish” fishing trip. Fishing cures everything. Indoor blues, outdoor blahs, the creeping summer crud that everyone seems to get as school starts, all of that.
The change in season, well, here, not so much a change in the seasons, but thanks for the idea. Simple solution: fishing cures everything. I’m not sure of the exact source of the Taurus discomfort, but a simple excursion changes it all — for the better. In my simplistic example, but one that really works? Fishing cures everything. Stop wishing; go fishing. (Or go do whatever activity it is that you enjoy so much.)
Gemini: As the Sun makes his way through Virgo, there’s a certain kind of precision that’s required. As a fun-loving Gemini, there’s a certain lack of precision operating in your life at the moment. What helps? Get these two drives and desires aligned. Get in touch with the Gemini “inner clean freak.” There is one in there, I know. I’ve seen glimmers and glimpses of that creature before. I have one Gemini buddy who is a total neat freak, but again, there’s a great deal of Virgo in that chart. As a loquacious, outgoing, voluble Gemini, there’s an intent for neatness, “Neatness counts!” But that intent is generally met with lackluster results. Good intentions plus short attention span means poor delivery. We have a week to change that. Not going to happen overnight. However, as a guideline, next few days? Take extra steps to clean, purify, detox, and organize. Doesn’t have to be much, could be a simple step like just one desk drawer.
Cancer: Virgo is about precision. Mostly. Usually. Most of the Virgo girls I’ve dated were all about something else. As I’ve said before, we make good friends. Not so much as lovers, but Sagittarius and Virgo? Good friends. I know, you’re Cancer Sun Sign (or moon or something), so why do I labor with Virgo and your sign? It’s about precision. Precise, direct, clean, no loose ends, that kind of precision. Clean, no issues left dangling, that’s what this is about. Problem being, there will be one or more items left hanging, left out, need to be cleaned, corralled, or inculcated with — something. There’s a task left unfinished and that needs your attention: now. Sun’s in Virgo, let’s be as precise and concise as possible, next couple of days. Get after it. Now.
The (mighty) Leo: I’ve been using email as a communications for close to 30 years. As such, I’m used to immediate responses that are short, possibly curt, much like a Twitter shout out, or a text from a buddy. Sometimes, just a simple “Yes/No” is all it takes. I don’t need a long explanation. Someone emails me, “When will it get better?” Kind of a stock answer with no background? “When you get out of the way.” An email from The Leo always gets special attention, but once again, curt and to the point. However, an email submission form on the site? What I discovered was leaving large box for people to type into invited more inbound email, and not too many times was there the “Life history” autobiographical bit, because of the large size of the text entry area. Subscribers are always encouraged to write in, but one can’t expect a long answer. I prefer whole sentences, but as my own grammar and proofreading can attest to, I’m not always good at that myself. So here’s the conundrum, Leo, larger text block, means shorter but more frequent messages. Why is that? I don’t expect a long answer, just a short, like me, one-liner will do. Explains this week, too.