If I have horns to make one mad, let the proverb go with me: I’ll be horn-mad.

Francis Ford in Shakespeare’s
Merry Wives of Windsor 3.5.45

Horoscopes starting 3.16.2017

Pisces:

Shakespeare’s Merry Wives is a bit of an odd play. It either resurrected, or served as “prequel” to Sir John Flastaff’s Henry IV, part 1 character. Falstaff was one of the most popular characters from Shakespeare’s canon, and the story told? The Queen of England wanted Sir John Falstaff’s character to get his comeuppance. So Shakespeare wrote The Merry Wives of Windsor, and there we have it.

The best part of about this being an alleged request from the Queen herself? There is no real evidence to support that proposition. It’s been bantered about for hundreds of years, and it seems to fit, as this seems to be a very different Falstaff from the King Henry plays.

However, there is no strict — admissible in a court of law — evidence to support that Queen Elizabeth commanded Shakespeare to write the play. As Pisces draws to a close? Happy birthday, and be aware is Venus is backwards, right? Evidence. Hearsay, anecdotal, and “it would seem so” are not valid forms of evidence. As a Pisces? Get real facts.

“Fake news,” no matter the source, is still not valid.

Aries:

Happy birthday! It just got, like, “Real!” Sure, let’s go with that. Much as I do adore me some Aries, there’s frantic kind of silliness that is loose in your sign. I can’t contain it. There’s this one Aries chick, and she’ll look at me, glare, glowing red eyes, “This is serious, you addle-pated (long string of insults)….”

Yes, I know it’s serious, but the silliness, or more properly, a sense of the absurd, is what is required next few days. Can’t change that. Yes, I know this is serious, but if you looked at it from my point of view? You’d see how silly it can appear.

Back to that one Aries chick, eyes on fire, glowering at me. The trick is, I get it. The potential Aries problem? You don’t see the whole thing, the big picture, the way this is just part of a bigger puzzle, and we’re not there yet. Or you’re not here yet, or you don’t understand, that, while it is “serious,” yes, I’ll agree, it’s not that big of a deal to the other people you encounter. In a few days, maybe a week or two, other folks will see that it is serious, or your Aries self was justified in being worried, concerned, whatever, at this time. You are best served by conserving your copious amounts of Mars-inspired energies, and looking for the funny, the amusing, the bemused, or just plain silly in the situation. Just for now.

Taurus:

One author, old girlfriend turned me on to this one author, and I got hooked. It’s a kind of guilty pleasure for me, as it’s not material that I would tend to read, otherwise. Not my stuff, not generally. Once I read a couple of the novels, though, I was hooked. What I’ve always admired is the total lack of style.

No. Style. At. All.

No tricks with weird punctuation, no long, runoff sentences, no misplaced modifiers or dangling gerunds. Sensible, straightforward prose. Ripping yarns that keep me engaged for the duration of the novel. I’ll check it out of the library and read the latest one, possibly read it in just an evening. Not really deep material but engaging enough, with that novelist’s eye for detail that paints pictures with words.

It’s a guilty pleasure. That’s all. As Mars warms Taurus up? It’s about guilty pleasures. As we look at where the rest of the planets are? Maybe this is about guilty pleases that we don’t tell anyone about, but curl up with a cozy mystery book and read all night long. Binge watch the latest guilty pleasure online, something. I think the books are better forms of guilty pleasures because they involve the mind, and there’s always that little part of Mars that wants action. Guilty pleasures with some action.

Gemini:

You know what the problem is, my Gemini friend? It’s the that the “problem” has taken up residence in your brain. The problem, which wasn’t a big deal last week? Or yesterday, it has had time to fester and grow. Like a cancer, only, worse. What occupied one corner of your brain last week? One, tiny itty-bitty stretch of Gemini bandwidth and brainwaves, last time? It’s grown. There’s the dog, gnawing on a bone, and that dog just won’t let go of the bone, although, by this time, the bone is mere shards of its former self.

Just won’t let go of that problem, and now? It’s grown and grown. What used to occupy a mere fraction of its former space? Now takes up waking days and nights. What was tucked away in corner, almost forgotten? It’s taking up more and more space.

Here’s the deal, the trick, the idea. Stop. Just stop obsessing about a problem that, if you look, you know you didn’t create this one. It’s not yours. Stop.

Cancer:

I have one shirt I bought at the cheap, “Mexican” market. Like a dry goods store, but aimed at working-class people, and the primary language, again, remember where I live, the lingua franca is a border patois. The shirt cost less than three dollars, the total price for the shirt, new, or new-like, or new, but an irregular, so it was cheaper. I was working in Austin, and a cool weather front moved in, so I needed a heavier shirt to serve as a jacket. I was fine in shorts, just needed a longer, heavier, warmer shirt.

That one shirt, less than three bucks? It’s lasted three-four seasons now. The label’s fallen off, but I think it was 100% spun, recycled polyester. All plastic. But soft, a lovely light-blue plaid color. Never shrunk. The sleeves might not be the same length, and there might be other manufacturing irregularities, but over all? Been serviceable. That one day, when I bought it? The AC was cranked down at the venue and that shirt paid for itself in that first day. Because it was so inexpensive, I never thought it would last, and yet, it has. Not stylish, but not too ugly to wear, and weird, in that, despite the all-polyester construction, nothing natural, it is quite soft.

As a Cancer, as the Children of the Moon, I want nothing but the best for you, and as a Sagittarius outside observer, I’m pointing out that simple, three-dollar shirt has served me well, much passed its “use by” date. Expiration date and expectations of longevity have long been tossed aside with that cheap shirt. Some days, the quality is in the less expensive places. Don’t be afraid to cheap out — it worked well in my cancerian, Moon Child example.

The Leo:

Love me my Leo friends, but right now? “Things” just seem to be skidding sideways. Not bad, not good, just not going the way The Leo want them to go. What it looks like to me? A sideways slip, a skid to the left — or the right — whatever direction appears to be most inconvenient for The Leo.

Again, this isn’t the end of the world, but at least one Leo will text me, “Oh Yes It Is. End. Of. The. World.”

Virgo:

I got this one Virgo client, and until a planet — or astrological element, like the Sun or the Moon — until a planet moves from one location to another, that client feels bound up, unable to make a decision. The planets have to change in order for that one person to change.

Me? I have great faith in humanity. I’m a fan of free will and free choice, and the innate human ability to reason, think, and adjust. So I read the planets as symbolic energies that suggest directions rather than dictate exactly when. Although, to be sure, I’ve watched as the motion of the planets does accurately predict an outcome.

This is about a Virgo decision. If you’re waiting for the perfect time? It might not happen this week. If you want to start making progress in that one area where you feel bound up? Now’s the time. I have faith in you. You should have faith in your Virgo self, too.

Libra:

In some of my original “Bare Foot Astrology” series, when I was first working with the material? One of my common comments was that I wanted a Libra to manage my affairs. In my mind, the Libra energy tends to be the benevolent, nice-guy, but get-it-done boss. Excellent managers. Fair, rational, bright, not prone to getting in a tizzy about small matters unless, of course, the small matter warrants a tizzy or a tizzy-like reaction. Even-handed. As an Air sign, too, there’s that element of available intellectual discourse, present in Libra. All good. The challenge as Pluto continues to apply pressure towards retrograde Jupiter? There’s an incessant need for change, and this might feel like change that is not of the Libra making. Which can be a problem. The trick is to use that Libra-like equanimity, the poise and balance the sign is known for, and to give the those middle-of-the-road answers, over and over.

“I can see how you would feel that way, certainly,” is one Libra response.

“I certainly understand your sentiments, especially now,” another good Libra-like response.

“Sucks to be you,” is not a good way to reply. Which is why I want a Libra to manage my office. But this isn’t about me, this is about the way it feels like there’s some change underfoot. Best response is to go back into that Libra-like balance and poise, though it might be hard to get to, this week.

Scorpio:

No one expects me to be politically correct. No illusion about that. So this is a riff on a joke, probably offensive and sexist, but use it as an analogy or metaphor, and it might make better sense. “When a woman answers with, ‘fine,’ the impending storm is relative to how quickly the answer is received.”

The imagined conversation, the Scorpio asks, “So it’s okay if I do this?”

“Fine.”

We can all see, as outward observers that the situation is not fine, and that answer means something entirely different. It’s not OK. It is not “Fine.” This will not end well for Scorpio.

With the planets where they are, if you, as a Scorpio, has to ask that question? And if you, as a Scorpio, receives that answer?

“Fine.”

You know where this is going. The secret to use this energy properly? Don’t. Don’t put your Scorpio self in a situation where you have to ask that question.

It’s tempting, but no, if you have to ask, you know in your heart, you shouldn’t have in the first place.

“OK, fine. What. Ever.”

Scorpio: This never ends well.

“Fine.”

Sagittarius:

Poking around on a website, I found a list of “must have, now free” apps for the phone. Or the tablet. Or computer. Pick. I’m not sure, and don’t make me work and go to find that link. The top of the list? It was an app, basically, a timer, that alerted the user at preset — or established — time, the user got hit with a tiny alarm, reminding the user to get up. Take a break.

“Science” has proven that humans work best with integrated coffee breaks. Or breaks of some kind. Apparently, some people get so consumed with a task that they forget to rest, take a break, stretch their legs, or maybe even, just go to the bathroom.

“There’s an app for that.”

Groan. Yes, so there’s an app that reminds me to take a break. Supposed to improve my concentration, if I take a break. Give me a break, none of that works, or, I could just use the built in timer, right? Instead, some clever person came up with a plan, and then, programmed a timer with suitable alerts to remind us to get up and stretch. In part, this really doesn’t work for me, because I use a standing desk, and I have to walk in the other room to get coffee, which goes in tiny espresso cup, so I’m on the run, frequently.

Sagittarius: We don’t need more frequent breaks. Given where the planets all exert energy? Less time spent playing with useless apps, and more time spent working. We get enough breaks, as it is. No need for a further distraction, whose only purpose is to add a layer useless complexity, and more cause to wander away from work. No need.

“But it was free!”

Capricorn:

One of the archetypes for Sagittarius is “The Archer.” As such, I’ve been accused of shooting that arrow straight into the heart of the matter, arrows of truth (what-ever), and doing so with a remarkable lack of tact and poise. I also use the analogy of the element of Fire. Fire burns well, in one direction, as long as there’s fuel. Like lighting a match? As long as there’s air and matchstick, we burn happily in that direction.

Given where a few planets are, like Retrograde Venus, the sun entering Aries, and Uranus opposite from Jupiter? Then there’s that Pluto in Capricorn? Given all of that? Borrow a page from my book, the astrofish.net guide to Sagittarius, and pretend you’re like one of us. Stick to that goal. Follow the fuel source until it runs out. Shoot the arrow of truth straight into the heart of the matter. Boldly insert whatever you can get into your mouth. Be true. Stick to one direction, one goal, one item to get done before you even think about moving onto a second goal. Finish one first. Pretend you’ve got all that fire and you are going to obsessively follow a single goal, the fuel source, to its very end. One direction. One goal. One destination. Finish that one, first. Then move on.

Aquarius:

Working through your chart, trying to arrive a suitable set of symbols, I paused. Pulling a book off the shelf, I copied passage down, started a weblog post about that passage, then came back. Rather a long passage, not just a short quip, but I copied — typed — retyped, really — a paragraph about a subject that is tangential to Aquarius. I sought outside help, and while that resulted in nothing direct, it did spur me onward, and as I came back to revisit the charts for this Aquarius week I had a chance to reflect.

Normally, a direct route is most expedient. Gets us from where we are to where we want to be, the quickest, shortest way. As I poked at Mars, now in Taurus, I realized that a pointed diversion, like me, just opening up a book and copying over a passage, then coming back to visit what I’m really working on?

The act of typing over some great words, like memorizing a short passage from Shakespeare’s canon, something like that? It helps clear the Aquarius thinking, which, as of late, has gotten bit muddled by outside influences. Just clear the air.

“Nothing is good or bad but thinking makes it so”

Now, where is that quote from?