It must be se offendendo, it cannot be else. For here lies the point: if I drown myself wittingly, it argues an act, and an act hath three branches—it is to act, to do, to perform; argal, she drown’d herself wittingly.

1st Gravedigger (clown) in
Shakespeare’s Hamlet V.i.5

Mercury comes un-retrograde in the next few days, but just barely.

For help with the devastating hurricane and flooding? Please give to the Houston Food Bank.

Horoscopes starting 8.31.2017

Virgo:

The biggest obstacle, the biggest problem, the largest challenge to practicing restraint? No one seems to know you’re doing it. Unnoticed.

The 1st Gravedigger is arguing a point — usually depicted as a grungy, dirty individual — yet the character argues using logic punctuated with Latin rhetoric terms. Sort of an academic show-off, you ask me.

The biggest challenge, to my fine Virgo friends, at this moment? Show some restraint. The biggest problem with showing some restraint? No one seems to notice.

Happy birthday!

Libra:

All I could see was a tiny bit of script poking out from underneath the woman’s tank–top. Looked like, “Ph.D” in poorly executed tattoo script. Tattoo “Lit” always fascinates me, so I politely asked, and her reply? “You’ve seen the Magritte painting, has the line, ‘This is not,’” which I completed in its original French, badly mispronouncing the second negative. “Ceci n’est pas une pipe,” is the quote from surrealist Magritte.

“When I was defending my dissertation,” she said, “I got that tattoo.” I completed her thought, “Ceci n’est pas une Ph.D.” Smiles all around. That leads me to this week’s Libra stuff, the artist in question, the surrealist painter, he had a whole series that was based on not being able to truly “see” the object in question, like that pipe, in his painting. As a Libra, what is is that you see? The image of the object, or the object itself? What you’re probably seeing is an image of the object, but unless you can touch it, feel it, and even then, do we trust your sense of touch? Unless you can touch it, is it real? Or is merely an image, like the French surrealist painter suggested?

Scorpio:

“It’s time for ‘Wine and Glue Guns!’” my Scorpio friend said. Exclaimed. Gleefully suggested, “No boys allowed!” She giggled. I think she might have been into the wine, at least, you know, heavy sampling of her afternoon wares. I’ll suppose this is a typically suburban-only kind of event, “housewives” stay home and do something that involves multiple bottles of supposedly good wine, and then for me, the tale gets murky, as I don’t know how they can safely combine those elements.

But I’m not a Scorpio, either.

This week calls for combining elements that might seem a little out of place, and as Mercury unwinds from its retrograde position? The glue-gun aspect of this works. The wine part, I’m unsure of how that works, but the glue–guns? Good idea.

I don’t know if the expression will translate, or how it applies, all the way across Scorpio, but I just found it to be such a useful expression, “Wine and Glue Guns!” Usually, there’s a squeal, too.

Sagittarius:

Because I am not a Scorpio, I am a big fan of not kicking a person when that person is already down. I am a big fan of not taking a bad situation and making that situation worse with insult and injury.

There’s a strong temptation, in this next few days, there’s that strong urge, almost impossible to resist, a chance to kick a person who is down. A chance to finally spike that ball, slam-dunk the point, a chance for a victory lap, something like that, one of those, maybe more, and the deal? It’s not a good idea. This has a tendency to blowback on us.

But I’m not a Scorpio, either.

So there might be the urge for the victory dance, a chance for the, “Oh yeah, who’s the boss, now!” Or whatever kind of — usually profanity laced — commentary our Sagittarius selves would be tempted to make. At the very end of this horoscope’s timeline, Saturn will line up with the Moon, both in Sagittarius. Until after that celestial event? Might want to hold off on the celebrations, and especially, no kicking a person who is down.

Capricorn:

I was at one event, think: off–off–off–Broadway. It was relaxed atmosphere, one of the aggressively relaxed atmospheres. What caught my attention, first? Guy had on a Sex-Pistols T-shirt. Not a new one, or not a remanufactured one, or anything like that. This looked like an original issue, certainly the original design from 1972, 1973? Best guess, without asking? It was a teenage trophy leftover, and resurrected as a badge of pride. Consider the location: Central Texas. The influence of liberal Austin’s University omnipresent. That T-shirt, and its possible relative originality, “God Save the Queen,” and so on? That combines the best of a couple of worlds. Old and new. There’s a chance of some fairly substantial growth, up and coming, for Capricorn. How to take advantage of this? First, let’s start with the old T-shirts. Like that Sex Pistols shirt, OK? This isn’t an ironic statement, although, to see some of what I’ve seen, kids wearing shirts of bands that were broken up and/or dead long before the kid was born? Yes, I’m not using that kind irony.

Aquarius:

Technically, Mercury won’t be really “retrograde,” and as such? Less of a problem. More of an Aquarius problem, though, is the lingering side-effects of this last Mercury retrograde, and an apparent lack of focus. While not always an Aquarius problem, that lack of focus can cause some issues.

Aquarius: Focus.

Concentrate. Bring all that valuable mental real estate that you’ve got, marshal up the powers and ficus on one solution to the problem. Focus on just one issue, at a time. Just one. I tend to get scattered and I’ll try to accomplish like, three goals at once, then, I’ll fail miserably. I can save yo the fail miserable part. What I’m here for, to help my Aquarius friends, and that suggestion, wait what was it?

Focus. One item at a time. One goal. One at a time, unless, did you see that?

Aquarius: Focus.

Pisces:

The problem? A long time ago, back in the good, old days of Austin, I adopted a lifestyle and clothing that was appropriate to that lifestyle. I used to wear “river guide” shorts. Look like traditional cargo shorts, only, the pockets were mesh, and the cargo pockets had drain holes at the bottom. To me, these weren’t so much “Cargo shorts” as they were shorts that I could swim in, and then, instantly drip dry. I never found a good replacement for those shorts, but I did start to wear just about any baggy, black shorts, and most of them, to this day, all sport cargo pockets. They just work, and they just work well for me. Makes dressing super simple, if there is a boat, or even water, involved, I’ll pull on a swimming suit. Otherwise, the cargo shorts work. The problem I’m facing is that I’ve learned that there is movement afoot to ban men from wearing cargo shorts because the apparel is unsightly. Turns out this is an attire I should lose if I want to appear attractive, contemporary, or in–tune. “The clothes make the man,” and cargo shorts don’t. As a Pisces as something near and dear is getting tugged from your grasp, what do you do?

Until I get an offer that is substantially better, I don’t think I’m willing to give up my style, no matter how deplorable it might be. As Pisces, follow me on this, we’re willing to change — when a viable alternative is presented. Until then? You know where e to find me, and I’m sure, you know how I’ll be dressed. Comfort and function is more important that “style,” right?

Aries:

Shift. “Shift occurs?” Yeah, not really liking it quite in that form, but yeah, that’s what going on, there’s gradually, maybe not gentle, but subtle shift.

Aries: Be aware!

Not, “Beware!” No, but be aware that there is a shift occurring, like ground shaking. Or, to me, sounds like a lowrider passing by with the volume at deafening levels, and the bass rocking the house, maybe literally. Window panes rattle some from the reverb. Then the car passes. This is the joy of living in an urban environment, noises like that. The rattle, though, that’s all this is, a shift, a chance to hear, see, or feel a change. Mercury will start unspooling from its little pattern. That’s part of the shift, but as Mercury stations (holds still), the Aries eyes get to see a tired old situation with a new light.

Aries: Be aware!

This is where a different perspective is offered, and instead of fighting with it?

Aries: Be aware!

“Wow! Look at that!”

I told you so.

Aries: Be aware!

Taurus:

Glide. Slide. Ease on into this week’s weirdness. The more you struggle to advance the Taurus agenda, the more it gets mired in the tendril of the leftover Mercury Mess. Mercury Mayhem, or whatever. As Mars shifts into Virgo, there will be a gradual lessening of pressure to perform or pressure to attain certain goals, that, according to Taurus, as clearly unreasonably expectations. Glide. Slide. Ease on into this. Instead of sitting still, start to shuffle forward. Maybe dragging your feet, but moving forward, ever so slowly. While one Taurus, hello dear, will suggest that this is a freaking emergency, and we need to rush? Other than that one in full panic mode, other than one Taurus have a grand freak out? Glide. Slide. Ease on into the situation. Ease on out. Glide and slide, preferably, not at a hight rate of speed.

To the one freaking out? I got nothing but time, and time will cure this. The deadline is not etched in stone, more like a chalk reminder on the stone, but no, it doesn’t have to be done at this moment.

Slide. Glide. Use the coefficient of friction from Mercury and Mars to smooth a path. Time.

Glide. Slide.

Gemini:

Ever been to a chamber of commerce meeting? How about Toastmasters? Rotary Club? Any of the old school network/marketing/civic groups like that? We’re dealing with a situation, in Gemini, where you’re suddenly up in front. Buddy tapped me the other day, “Hey, I can’t make the meeting, can you take charge?” In the example, it was kind of weekly conference call I participate in, so me taking over wasn’t a problem at all.

What this week does, here we are in Gemini, sitting in the audience, suddenly we’re asked up on stage.

“Quick, can you take over this presentation,” or explanation, or demonstration, or sales pitch. Varies.

Smile. You’re Gemini. As Mercury unwinds, you’ll be a little scattered at the start of the pitch, but once you hit stride, all this good Gemini gears kick in, and you’ll do fine.

“The clicker doesn’t seem to be working, and can you hear me? OK, good, let’s go.”

Cancer:

For entertainment I was reading a series of crime novels. Brutal, bloody, and right on the edge of gore, grisly, with the right amount of action, I was sure, justice would be served but the scenes in those books? Pretty gruesome. This was entertainment reading. I call it “airport reading,” but I spend so little time airports, I’m unsure of what it really is anymore. Escapist? Sure, but I gather some material from these novels, whatever I’m reading at the time. Well, usually. That one series is pretty graphic, and while I don’t mind staying up all night to finish one, I hate to put one down, in the middle and then try to sleep. Visions of ax murders flow through my head. What I discovered, if I’m, like, halfway through? I’ll find something else to read before I go to sleep. Can’t watch the news; that’s bad for us, so they say.

I was thinking about this, as I was looking at your chart, no spooky, scary novels or TV shows before bedtime. No violent news programs, before the Cancer sleep cycle. I keep at least one funny, innocuous novel on the reader so I won’t be haunted. Or, I’ll just stay up all night and finish the book. Mercury is still leaving some haunting material behind, despite the almost un-retrograde situation. Cut back on the scary stuff, just for now, be that news, books, or certain friends.

The Leo:

“So everything is better now, right?”

Not yet.

But let’s look, at the end of this weekly range, the horoscope, Mercury will no longer be retrograde and Mars will be headed into Virgo, with both planetary motions bringing promised relief. But it’s not here, not yet.

“So everything is better now?”

Not yet. There’s some chaos, and, for me, there’s some rather amusing energies loose upon the world. I tend to see this as a flirtation with madness, and that’s the old school definition of madness, which, in more modern terms, is frequently called insanity. But all of this resolves, and likely, resolves in the Leo favor. In time. In due course, in the next seven to ten days.

“Everything’s better, right?”

Not yet.

“Better now?”

Almost. Almost there, Leo dear, almost there.