Gone to be married? Gone to swear a peace?
False blood to false blood join’d! Gone to be friends?

Constance in Shakespeare’s King John 3.1.1-2

Horoscopes starting 5.18.2017

Taurus:

Ever wonder how much time is spent worrying about the weather? I looked, I was hoping to fish, other day, and the long–range weather–forecaster thing said “Rain.” I worried. Needlessly, as the long–range weather–forecaster thing was wrong, that far in advance. Nice day, sure there are pictures on a website — someplace — fun on the water. I have two reasonably accurate weather predictors. Three, if one counts the local news weather guy who is Pisces. My two that are far more accurate? There’s an app on my phone, a single window pane that gives me the current temp., accurate to a few degrees, right outside my door, doesn’t matter where I am on the planet. The other? I walk outside that door, look at the sky, feel the air, determine, hot/cold, moist/damp, dry/dryer, calm/windy. While I can’t take the barometric pressure myself, I can guess at it. I’ve found this to be a more accurate weather predictor than any of the apps, local news, anything else. Empirical —Taurus— observation yields the best results. Most accurate. No way to judge that situation, the weather, for example until you step outside. Just better that way. This week’s buzzword? “Empirical.”

Gemini:

Not all of my ideas are original. I’ve lifted, adapted, stolen, everything but outright plagiarized material from whatever sources. I’ve used tawdry romance to high-brow literature as sources for inspiration and ideas. While the idea itself might not be original, the way I use it?

Therein is our Gemini clue. Steal. Beg, borrow, steal. Take another’s idea and mold that idea until it’s your own. While I lay no claim to fame on originality of ideas, for example, the framework I use is the 12 Signs of the Zodiac, as that’s a starting point? What I get to do is beg, borrow, and steal from others, then arrange it as my own. It’s the art of the remix, in some ways of looking at this. Consider that there are no new original ideas. How can the Gemini brain wrap itself around that concept, then combine a few diverse ideas to make your own? Part of the art is tapping that Gemini brain, the stuff therein, and getting that to look at the different collections of material then re-connect stuff. Might not work on the first try, but by the the third or fourth? You will have a winner.

Cancer:

While this would date me horribly, there used to be a personal computer-clique superstition about Version 3. The “Three” moniker in a revisions number was highly unlucky. That tended to be the time the software went from “Cool, artful, and useful” to “bloated and useless, with an array of too many features!” I suffer from this temptation, myself. I get an idea, a hack for a website, or something, and I want to add in extra stuff that makes the existing stuff run slower. More layers of useless complexity. The current version of the site, yes, I do all the work myself, and the current iteration? It’s a constant struggle to keep it simple, and to keep the amount of added on crap to absolutely the barest minimum. Same applies in Cancer, version 3.0 coming up. Instead of adding layers of pointless features, while very cool-looking additions, instead of adding layers, features, processes that are difficult to replicate? Consider making it easy, simple, and straightforward. Instead of adding more features? With the new version of yourself that you’re planning? Instead of new features? Consider removing some of the extra crap you’ve added on in the past. Consider letting go of something instead of adding it on. Version Three of the new you is about to emerge, let’s break with the (software) tradition of wretched excess. At least? For now? Less. Not more, less.

The Leo:

I’ve long been a “Baggage whore.” I know more than one female who has a similar attachment to shoes. “All about the shoes,” and then it gets murky. Similar, I’ve got one buddy who collects a metric ton of Bass Fishing tackle. He’s always looking for the perfect lure, the perfect bait, the perfect rod-and-reel combo. Me? I’m a bag person, in this respect, always searching for the perfect way to carry it all, usually for work.

As Saturn got super-comfortable in Sagittarius, I found myself limiting my travels, as a function of Saturn, to business that was solid. So my baggage requirements changed, and I simplified. For most of it, went back to existing bags. Stuff I already had, and as it turns out? I made wise choices, back, ever so long ago. Which doesn’t stop me from looking. Outdoor adventure shops, sporting goods stores, even the luggage store at the mall? These are all places I’ve shopped. One mall store, I love to stop in and just sniff the leather, that heady aroma of treated cowhide, sleek briefcases and tablet folders, yes, all good. A quaint realization, many years after this behavior wouldn’t go away? I’m in it for shopping, not for buying. What I’ve got is more than good enough. What I’ve got works well. What I’ve got won’t be replaced any time too soon. I can shop all I want, but I have no reason to replace any of my carry-all luggage. So my luggage fetish will remain unappeased. As a, The Leo, there are certain constraints. How will you deal with those constraints? One Leo, once suggested, “I’ll fill my Amazon cart with books, but then not buy.”

Virgo:

For years, “There’s an app for that,” was the standard phrase. Problem, issue, fundamental point that is causing Virgo discomfort? “There’s an app for that.” No, there’s not an app for that. But I do have another idea. “There’s an answer in a book.” Not an app, but a book. Not a digital book, although, lord knows, I love me some digital delivery, but no, not a digital book. A real book.

“You mean a ‘book’ book?”

Exactly, words on a page. Pages that are paper. Some books are brittle and the paper feels like it might tear at the edges. Other books are heavy and ponderous. All depends. I have one book of minimalist, modernist poetry, and while the book is relatively new, it does feel like the pages might fall out. Probably bad glue. Still, that’s the kind of point of reference we’re looking for, in Virgo-land.

“You do mean a ‘book’ book?”

Exactly. Timeless material, arcane data, reference points that trigger a flood of Virgo memories, something. When I suggest, it’s about “Hitting the books,” this week? I don’t mean it in a figurative sense. Book. Books. There’s the clue, pull the right book off the shelf and let me know. Library, bookstore, just about any source is good.

Libra:

Many years ago, a former teacher suggested a slim reference volume to me. I — eventually — purchased that small tome, and I’ve used it as a referral, ever since. Took a few years, but there are times when all I want is a “jiggle,” a “nudge,” a hint that pushes me in the correct direction. That tiny text is perfect for just that.

As Venus — in Aries — opposes Jupiter — in Libra — there’s a quick point of reference that’s required. Instead of opening our Libra mouth and making up facts, instead of just plucking instances and examples out of thin air, and instead of cutting the garment from the fabric of the imagination? Consider, under this current influence, consider making this a fact-based decisions. Consider only using hard facts that can be verified. Consider how “transparency” became such a buzzword, and that transparency in all Libra decisions, especially with this Venus/Jupiter thing? Transparency is important.

Scorpio:

There’s a sense that you want to make a commitment, a promise, a pledge to a certain entity, and maybe this week isn’t so right for just such a promise. Pledge, commitment. Contractual agreement that can’t be renegotiated, ever again. In one example, it was about eating more pecans. No, seriously, pecans were deemed a miracle food by one set of studies, and the perfect cure is to eat seven (7) pecans every day. As a Scorpio, you make a pledge to do just that, for ever and ever. Package of pecans runs out this week, and then? You’ve breaking your pledge, that promise, the commitment you made. Another example was a pledge by a certain Scorpio to refuse to add the zingers to his — or her — stinger. So that the sarcastic comments would be kept to a minimum. Hey, they held out for three days, but then?

“It was such a perfect target, how could I not?”

While I understand, this week’s Scorpio suggestion? Just a suggestion, not a rule, or a law, or anything, no, just a suggestion? Make no long-term, irrevocable commitments.

“So I shouldn’t sign the mortgage documents?”

See? A mortgage is a negotiable instrument, That’s not what I’m talking about. A Scorpio statement, like, “For ever and ever?” That’s what I’m warning about. Not yet. Close, but not yet.

Sagittarius:

The shorthand glyph for Sagittarius is an arrow, pointing up. As such, I’ve incorporated that imagery in various bits and pieces of my work, throughout the years. It’s back, again, and not as a glyph, the symbol stands for the arrow shot from the centaur’s bow, but what that arrow stands for? Upwards and outwards.

“Upwards and outwards” is where our copious Sagittarius attention should be directed. Follow that arrow, follow its direction, and pay attention to where it’s going. Directing our attention away from our Sagittarius selves is the one trick to harness this week’s, well, weirdness.

Pay attention to others. It’s not about us, not at all. Simply put?

Upwards and outwards.

(Mars and the shifting of the Sun, really.)

Upwards and outwards.

Capricorn:

One comment that I’ve used, from time to time, in various forms is the idea that people who do nothing in times of great moral crisis are just as guilty, if not more so, than the people who make decisions. Decisions, right or wrong, are preferable to no decisions. Looking at the stars, then I have this program that advances the stars through the week, so I can see where this is going, and I detect a general trend for Capricorn. Make a decisions. It’s probably the wrong decision, but that means we can renegotiate this choice, later. I picked up a cheap set of clothes for a buddy’s kids. Turns out, I know nothing about the size of the children, so the decisions I made, my choices, weren’t very good. Boy’s was too small and girl’s was too big. I left the tags on the items and ambled back to the store, a day later, with receipt and kid clothing. Exchanged, I got better stuff, and the deal was all renegotiated. A happy resolution to the deal, and “Uncle Kramer” is cool again.

Look at how this worked for me, I made a decision. Decisions. Didn’t work out correctly, not the first iteration, but it did work out, eventually. So, as the planets march forward?

Capricorn: Make a decision. We can renegotiate color and size, later.

Aquarius:

I published a thin primer on a certain — not so arcane — astrology topic because I was tired of being besieged with the same questions, over and over. It’s also rather difficult to suggest that one event will have the same effect on two dissimilar bodies. However, that slim primer, still available although somewhat dated, and the notes that it carries, are still valid. I wrote it down, published it, and made the data available, so folks can draw their own conclusions as to how this affects them. Mars in Gemini is a good for Aquarius, and Mercury in Taurus, not so much. There’s a tension angle that unfolds next few days. Grace, aplomb, caring but aloof? That all works. Listening, rather than talking? That works well. As I was exploring the diverging energy streams in Aquarius, I was working on a good way to answer its demands. Maybe.

A definite maybe, for this week, and remember my old guideline?

“A closed mouth
collects no feet.”

(That might apply to me, as well, not that I would listen to such advice.)

Pisces:

My personal library is weird. It’s scattered around two homes, across Texas, and now, divided into three rooms, here, as well. How should I organize that library? I’ve watched, I’m someplace south of 2,000 volumes, but well over 1,000 books. Most of those I’ve read, at least once, some two or even three times, as the material gains new insight as I change. At the thinnest, the trailer in South Austin, the library was right a thousand books. Then it was easy, there was one bookshelf for astrology texts, one for “Lit Crit” (Shakespeare &c.), and everything else was simply in alphabetical order by the author’s last name. Amusing to me, I once had all of the books’ titles in a database of sorts. Interesting. Yeah, I read too much, and I throw away too many novels to be bothered.

The question, though, for Pisces, is how to divide this up, how to segregate and populate the shelves? Poetry is now on a shelf by its own, not much there — just a few slim volumes of modern, with two or three “pre-modern” titles, as well. Shakespeare scholarship stuff now has to be separate from everything else, but I haven’t managed to collect them all in one spot just yet. Popular authors, typically bestsellers are all grouped by author, and in a few examples, I’ve even got the titles arranged by date of publication. Makes for a slightly more interesting approach, but I can’t do that with everything. I’m an avid reader, not a librarian, not that the two aren’t dissimilar, no, that’s not it.

Doubt you’re sorting through books, per se, but I’ll wager that there’s a Pisces collection of data that needs order. How do you stack that information up? Sort it out, make it accessible? The Pisces data needs some structure.

Alphabetical is a good place to start, but that’s just me.

Aries:

“I’m a ‘Flamingo,’ I live in the South and go North for the summer.” While I usually hear of them as “Snowbirds,” the people who live in the North and migrate South for the winter? I’ll admit, I had never heard that term before, the “Flamingo.”

Living in a trailer park in Austin, back in a certain time, there is strong tie that I have, a deep and abiding personal affinity that I carry with me, to this day, for the tawdry, tacky, “Pink Flamingo.”

I still have some that adorn my back yard, and my father used to gift them to my mother, much to her chagrin, as we all did, just as a way to stay in touch with roots. To this day, she still has some in her backyard. So does my Sister. So do I. I’m open and I’ll admit this — in public. Not ashamed. Way it is.

So the term, as a way to describe migrations of people based on perceived weather patterns? Never heard them called a “Flamingo.” Still, pause, stop, think. That makes much better see than living in the North and migrating South during the coldest months. Why not live here, where the climate is temperate, and go north in the summer, when it’s actually pleasant up yonder?

My suggestion, for Aries, is to follow the logic that the flock of Flamingos follow. Look at a problem, a very Aries problem, and that problem needs a solution. Invert what has worked in the past, and see if you can’t concoct a more viable solution. Now, more so than ever, are you able to think about this in larger terms and see possible solutions — make a suggestion. I didn’t say it was the time to drop everything and move, but think about exploring some possibilities that are the reverse of what others might be doing.

Snowbird versus Flamingo, who wins?

Aries. I want an Aries winner, either way.