- Go bid the priests do present sacrifice,
And bring me their opinions of success.
Caesar in Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar 2.2.5-6
- Full Moon, June 9, 2017 8:09 AM
Horoscopes for 6.8.2017
Gemini:
Jump, run, play. Three rather simple commands. It’s Gemini birthday time, there’s the Full Moon, and then there’s the stuff that rails that Full Moon’s energy. Best way to keep this going?
“Jump, run, play.”
Simple, easy, three commands. We can break those down to separate items, and each command can have a different definition, but I wasn’t really looking at it like that. Mercury tends to make Gemini, the birthday people this week, Mercury tends to lend a cerebral touch to all matters Gemini. While wonderful at times, with the motion the Moon and Mars? Activity — physical activity — is preferred to emotional or mental activity. “But I was thinking!”
So was I. I was thinking, as a Gemini, you need to “Jump, run, play”
Cancer:
“It’s not about the money.” That’s one of the bland, self-help, guru-generated type of statements I tend to hear. A lot. “It’s not about the money.” I was reading notes from a best-selling author, and she claimed it wasn’t about the money. Not now, it’s not. But what, 20 years back? It was about the money because there wasn’t enough. So, this next few days? Bet you hear someone say, “It’s not about the money.”
Sitting comfortably, with food on the table, perhaps a weight problem from too much good food? Pretty difficult to lecture from a point of “It’s not about the money,” because, by then, it’s not all about the money. But when one is scraping to get by? Yeah, it kind of is about the money. I’m not really concerned with Cancer’s money situation, this is more one of those warnings about bland, “self-help” type of material that gets battered about. Don’t take advice from someone who isn’t practicing what he’s preaching.
“But I’m telling you, it’s not about the money!”
Tell my banker that.
The Leo:
Simply put, Leo dearest? Simply Put? There’s an obvious difference, to me, with two expressions.
“We can do that,” and “we will do that.”
Simply put? Employ that first expression. It implies that the question, the answer, the actionable item, the direct action itself, it falls in the realm of being a possibility. Which it is. But that doesn’t imply, well, it might imply, but it doesn’t promise that we will, indeed, carry out that promised action. Deed, chore, errand, whatever the “it” is? It falls within the realm of an item that, as The Leo, you can, in fact accomplish. While it might also imply that you are going to do it, for sure, that’s best not stated. Turns out you’ve got some flaky help, and The Leo hates to make a promise that can’t be upheld.
“So what you’re saying, ‘I can do that,’ but you are not committing to it, am I right?”
That’s certainly one way of understanding this. The Leo isn’t a flake. But the rest of us are. Seeing as how this is a team effort?
“We can do that,” sounds much better than the absolute rock-solid Leo word that “we will do that.”
Virgo:
Some would say it was cruel trick. Some would think this was an unthinkable swap. But a perspicacious Virgo will recognize how this works. I got up from the table to refill the coffee, and I refilled the Virgo coffee with decaf. Decaf: the Devil’s brew, the coffee that shouldn’t be allowed, the trickster of coffee beans, yeah, “Decaf: hell hath no fury as someone not awake,” and hell hath no fury like an over-amped Virgo. This is a week when a subtle, or not so subtle, set of energies, planetary influences, shake up the Virgo agitation factor. The trick? Drink decaf. Your Virgo self is amped enough with the Full Moon doing a tension angle, and Mercury lingering in there, as well.
One of my buddies gave me a brand of local herbal tea. Nuts and fruits, looks like lawn clippings, might very well be just that, but the stuff isn’t half-bad. And it has no caffeine. Back to that secret ingredient, for this week, no need to agitate an already (planetary agitations) worked up Virgo. Drink decaf.
Libra:
The algorithm used by various super online retailers is obnoxious, at best. My tastes are all over the place, from classical music to classic rock to cutting edge astrology techniques, plus a diverse mash-up of fiction and literature with zero discernible order. Makes the suggestions even more amusing, as the machines can’t get my tastes organized. I’ve mocked the machines before and in another century when the machines rise up, and we become their servants? My mocking will be remembered and I will suffer for it, I’m sure.
- The machines aren’t set to rise up just yet, and my abuse of the “If you like this, then we suggest that” choices are justified.
I just get the impression that the computer doing the statistical analysis of my choices, I just see it simpering, and pouting, “Here? Maybe this selection? Please? I’m trying here, work with me a little, ok?”
We do not, I repeat, for Libra, we do not have to heed the suggestions of the machines. Those decisions and suggestions are based on numbers and numerical analysis, “If this, then this,” simple enough. Like, in the grocery store? Fruit, like organic lemons, are next to oranges and limes are on the other side, all shelved neatly, next to each other. The machinery of commerce just makes similar recommendations — and not always good ones.
These are suggestions drawn from systematic analysis of patterns. This might be a week to think about breaking from the Libra systematic, statistically familiar patters, just for a change.
Libra: Break some patterns. Break some Libra patterns.
Scorpio:
Scorpio? Scorpio carries a lovely level on intensity seldom matched, rarely equaled, maybe not present in any other sign in the zodiac. There’s an almost spooky allure, and essence that pervades the Scorpio presence. The temptation is the announce this presence. The temptation is to make one’s Scorpio self known, by proclamation, announcement, some kind of splash.
My Scorpio suggestion? Resist that urge.
Scorpio’s intensity should speak for itself, the steely-eyed gaze, the steady hand on the tiller, so to speak. Write. So to write. I’m not speaking, but the Scorpio message is sure and sound: resist the big splash, at this moment, unless, there’s something else that overrules that in your chart, now isn’t really a good time for the big announcement. The big deal.
Sagittarius:
The “Slim Jim” brand of meaty snack stick? Sort of a beef stick, but not really? One of the prime ingredients is salt, another main substance is some kind of preservative (nitrate, nitrite, nitroot), and finally, read that tiny print, “mechanically separated chicken (or pork).” Know what that is? Scavenged animal parts tossed in an industrial blender, ground up fine, and shoved into a sausage tube. Check the expiration date on some of those meat stick snacks: there isn’t one. On the positive side, that stuff lasts forever, literally, in an emergency stash. For me, it’s a hurricane box, for others, it’s a tornado/earthquake kit. Whatever.
In one of the “all–natural (with higher prices)” grocery stores, I found a similar item, but the meat stick snack advertised no preservatives. Salt, pork, beef, venison, a number of flavors, but none of the bad stuff. Less than a buck apiece; good deal. I sampled a few, then bought a handful. Used them up on the last fishing trip. I went back for more.
They don’t carry those “all-natural” Slim-Jim brand replacements. Bit of a let down.
I have yet to find a suitable replacement. Not like this is an everyday food, I tend to only use such meaty snack treats as emergency food and on long days on the water, fishing. Protein, salt, fat, not too many toxins, and I’ll tend to sweat those out before the day is done. Not like I do this that often, but for now, there is no source. Some Sagittarius weeks are like this, you know, still searching for that illusive perfect snack treat with no expiration date.
Capricorn:
I stopped by a fishing buddy’s place talk about an upcoming trip. He has a kid, little Capricorn son, about three years old, I guess. The kid was very carefully lining up all his toy cars, making a single, long line, nose to tail, on the low coffee table. He would carefully line all the cars up and then, with a single sweep of an arm, the toys would all crash into the rug. Swept away in a single, traumatic act. Not real trauma, and I’m still unsure of what was going on in the kid’s head. My buddy, the boy’s daddy, he just shook his head, “I don’t know.”
To a child, play is very serious. And to that Capricorn kid, that order and structure, lining up all the cars, that makes some kind of sense. As does the total destruction of that order, moments later.
Capricorn: This week is about order and destruction, and then? Rebuilding that order again.
The kid — Capricorn — went outside after demolishing the line of cars, said something to his dad, then ambled back in, and started lining the cars up again. Order, chaos, order. Or order, destruction, and new order. Makes sense to Capricorn.
My fishing buddy? When we were fishing, I asked about the thing with the kid and the line of cars. My buddy just shrugged his shoulders.
Aquarius:
In more than one format, I’ve found hundreds, if not thousands, of quotes and tips about writing. How to write? Sit at a typing machine and type. Sooner — or later — stories emerge. Thought processes lead to winding, possibly cavernous, corners of the mind, and exploration, then excavation starts to uncover the real material that’s been buried. Tons of quotes. Thousands, perhaps, floating around on the inter-webs. I’ve posted some, myself. Some real. Some hoaxes, or false attributions, or some, just made up. However, there’s a single thread that runs through each one: show up. Write. How one writes doesn’t matter. Longhand, increasingly rare, but if that works, fine. Word processor, typewriter, for some.
The essence, repeated over and over, in a variety of formats, the essential message? Write. Write every day. As this applies to Aquarius? The first couple days, this is easy, whatever the task is, Thursday, Friday, you look forward to the task. Saturday, not as much, and you might want to skip the task. (Don’t.) Sunday, lazy day, again, might want to skip it. (Don’t.)
There’s an Aquarius process at work, and it needs to be exercised every day. Humor me, just for this week, maybe, maybe just horoscope to horoscope, but whatever the process is? Each day. Exercise whatever that process is. Everyday.
This is about daily process, and the standard advice is for writers, but let’s stretch this to fit a particular Aquarius task, and to make that work? Work it every day.
Pisces:
Observation is part of my process. Pays to pay attention. Details. One fascination I have is with “skin art,” that is, tattoos — of various types. I was in line, grocery store, and the woman ahead of me was obviously a mom with a kid in tow, and that mom? Ink was crawling out from under her blouse, with a single sleeve running along an arm, and then? Across the knuckles on her hands? Left hand had “L-O-V-E” spelled out with the right sporting “L-E-S-S.” No ring, although she did have ring-like ink on her wedding ring finger. As she was finishing up paying, and gathering up her child, I asked about her ink, commenting on the quality of the sleeve artwork, and inquiring as to which artist.
We exchanged pleasantries, but what I really wanted to know was about the message on her knuckles. Not a common bit of ink, and a strange message, I thought.
“Single mom?”
“I might as well be some days, but no, ‘Loveless’ is a family name.”
So my estimation, guesswork, intuition, hopes, and dreams all shattered. What this means for Pisces? Be careful about assumptions before a thorough investigation. The signs might seem to indicate one direction, when, careful questions reveal other information.
Aries:
While my imagination can compress time and space, and then expand that same time and space? In the real world, maybe not so much. I can dream about leaping across eons and lightyears of time. Distance. Practically, my body is pretty much governed by the conventional laws of physics and more mundane matters like gravity — 9.8 meters per second (squared). Similarly, the Aries mind is quite limitless, but the Aries body is governed by more mundane matters. “If you can think it, you can be it!” Great advice. Works, certainly, rather well, on one level. However, down here in the real — Aries — world? As this week gets long and stretches into the weekend? Time slows down, and there seem to be a greater than usual number of people trying to hold you back. Not me! But there will be others. A sly smile, an inward grin, a knowing look from an Aries? Let’s rest assured that the Aries world — in our Aries heads — is just fine. However, this might be a good week, Full Moon then Full Moon Fallout? Might be a good week to keep that mental prowess and imagination to our Aries selves.
Taurus:
I ran across a posting, not long ago, about ten essential clothing items every man should have. A good suit, a good sport coat, formal jeans, and then the list veered off in a direction I couldn’t fathom. I don’t own any “Sneakers,” much less a good pair. I do have a tux, several, but no longer do I have the inclination to wear one. My business attire is predicated on comfort — not style. I don’t own any khakis, either. If it’s warm enough for light, cotton twill pants, then I’m in shorts. No sneakers, and they left off “Good cowboy boots” as part of the attire every man should have. I realize this is a highly regional item, but still, in my world? It is a part of every man’s required clothing. Like a good suit, and formal wear.
As a Taurus, you love the good things in life, the finer things. And as a Taurus, this is a time to concentrate on quality rather than quantity. One good item is better than buying the same thing over and over again, maybe a half-dozen times. One good pair of boots will last, outlast, several sets of cheap boots. One decent pair of “dress” cowboy boots will last a lifetime, keep them shined up. I do. I have. Of note, I wear boots so infrequently, that one pair can last — one pair did last more than two dozen years.
Whether we’re talking about boots or the list of ten items every man (or woman) should have in his (or her) closet? One good one is better than half-dozen cheap ones.
Something to keep in mind, this week.