Horoscopes starting 10.26.2017

Third Roman Citizen

    Nay, your wit will not so soon out as another man’s will; ’tis strongly wadg’d up in a block-head; but if it were at liberty, ’twould sure southward.

Second Roman Citizen

    Why that way?

Third Roman Citizen

    To lose itself in a fog, where being three parts melted away with rotten dews, the fourth would return for conscience’ sake to help to get thee a wife.
    Shakespeare’s Coriolanus 2.3.9-

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Horoscopes starting 10/26/2017




There’s an oblique reference to a sexual innuendo in the brief passage quoted. My Scorpio friends tend to thrive on that, the implied, and less stated but, you know, in an oblique manor. In an oblique manner. I should think this material through before launching into the Scorpio horoscope but herein is the problem, with birthdays, the beneficial light of Jupiter, and even Mercury making merry in Scorpio? The Mars and Venus situation — still in Libra — makes for a kind of merry prankster and short-sighted approach. Two options?

Scorpio: “Wow, I didn’t think that one through. Oops! My bad!”

There’s always a second one, though, might help.

Scorpio: “Oops, my bad. Wait, I meant to do that.”

The two expressions are not unrelated, as there’s a way they can fit together. However, I’d be a better person if I suggest you think it through, first. But given where the planets are?

Scorpio: (With confidence) “Yeah, I meant to do that.”




Pregnant pause. I’ve never really fully grasped the meaning of the term, “Pregnant pause,” until now. This week, in Sagittarius — that’s what we have, a pregnant pause. My highbrow literature friends would have one term, and then, one buddy from a trailer park in South Austin, him and his girlfriend, they have a totally different version of the term. Sliced either way, though?

The term applies. The pause is caused by either Mars and Venus in Libra, or Mercury, Jupiter, and the Sun in Scorpio, or any number of other influences. There is one Sagittarius reader who will freak out with the term, too, as she thinks it means she’s pregnant. Not the case, but the pause — in that example — could easily prevent a pregnancy. (Hashtag) just sayin.’

Sagittarius: there is a time for pause, a pause fraught with meaning, implication, possibilities, and a moment to let something slip passed us. Some days, like this next week? Maybe it's OK to let something slip past.



The Sea Goat

In the preceding two entries, see Sagittarius above, there is a possible grammatical mistake. There could be a double meaning, too.

Subject to interpretation and debate. Part of the Capricorn process.

The energy, I’m mostly addressing Mars and Venus, but the energies leave a dual pathway, a double-entendre sense to the current display of what is available. Have to consider from both sides, and then, see if that doesn’t light up a third portion that makes more sense.

So did you see the mistake? Am I right, or what?



The Water Bearer

Ever date a Virgo? While I’ve catalogued my experiences elsewhere, the ideas and ideal hold up well and are worth mentioning in the light of current events — as felt by Aquarius — even now.

It’s the details. The nitpicking, finite, infinitesimally small, tiniest shards of grains of sand, the motes of dust, just material that doesn’t normally bother us?

If our Aquarius selves pause too long and let this tiny material, the useless details, let that stuff stack up? It will be bothersome. The details will hamper the bigger picture.

Yes, yes, I know, Halloween and all that. However, the trick is to stick the big picture, the grand overview, the part where you step back and look at all the pieces, not just the tiniest of details — those details do matter — only, those details don’t matter at this moment.

“But there’s this one detail I have to look after right now…”

See how that works? You missed it.



The Fishes

Simplest solution? “Boat shoes.” At least one Pisces will give me a quizzical look with that idea, not grasping the concept, at least, not at first. To me, “Boat shoes” are specific set of sport sandals with extra webbing, anchoring my heel and thin soles that have a sticky consistency. Something to keep me on the boat’s decking. Most of the boats I ride in are fiberglass shells. Some have sparse carpet, but most of the bay boats don’t bother with such amenities. While the decking is textured, in October, we get these frenzied fishing trips where the deck is covered with mud, blood, and fish. Makes for a slippery slime. Easiest way to navigate such conditions?

“Boat shoes.”

So there’s a way navigate the apparently murky depth of what’s happening in Pisces by slipping into a pair of appropriate attire. Like “Boat shoes.” One of my fishing buddies has a nasty pair of tennis shoes. This shoes are used only on fall fishing trips. Fish scales, fish blood, fish slime from getting a fish in the boat and then having the big feller fly around? It’s messy. Lack of cohesive friction. Good for certain situations, but struggling with a monster “drum” (fish), not good for the fight.

Simple solution? “Boat shoes.”

Pisces: adjust as need be. You get the idea, “Boat shoes.”



The Ram

I was at a friend’s house, and I was left alone — babysitting — really — but essentially alone, for an afternoon. Buddy tossed me the TV remote. I looked down at my phone to answer an email and missed what my buddy was telling me about how to operate his home TV and surround sound, cable/digital movie system. Systems, as there was a myriad of wires and cables, blinking devices and I don’t know what. Looked like about six, maybe eight long, black, multi-buttoned remotes on the couch.

Day time TV came up. I poked at one remote, and the satellite shifted? I don’t know what I did, but I was getting Spanish TV with English subtitles. Not the weirdest thing I’ve seen, but interesting. I changed the channel and the volume went up. I poked another button and the volume stayed to loud. I gave up and started trying to figure out how to turn the TV off. Took three remotes to shut off most of the systems.

I have a book on my phone, I carry for just such problems, times like this. I can quietly read a book because — who can figure out those “Entertainment systems?”

Faced with burgeoning technology that makes no sense to your Aries self? Turn it off. Read a book.



The Bull

“Talk it over, Taurus, talk it over.”

Simple solution to a complex series of events that have no apparent easy resolution — so?

“Talk it over.”

I’m on your side, but there’s a problem with Taurus listening skills. Now that I’ve kindly pointed that out? You know what to do, listen carefully. Find that common ground. Reach a point where you understand the opposition’s point-of-view, even if they — the opposition — are wrong, in your Taurus eyes. The spirt of compromise is what works to make this weird stuff feel a little less weird. Not all bad, just a tad off? Easiest solution to these challenges?

“Talk it over.”



The Twins

Texas — my Texas — enjoys an embarrassing surfeit of singer/songwriters of superior skills. Even the record companies in Nashville recognized the talent here, and that’s one reason Austin was the “Live Music Capital,” and etc. Kind of boring stuff, and when I lived in Austin, on any given night, there was a credible, talented singer/songwriter plying his or her craft at some local place. For me, back then? Walking distance. Not figuratively, literally. “Them’s my chops; I know of what I speak.”

For mercurial Gemini, I have to establish some bonafides, prove I got credit here. There’s a surfeit of Gemini skills that need to be showcased a little. Got to show off that you are clever. More clever. More talented. Better at various forms of expression. Do something with this, now.

Part of the surfeit of talent in Texas, part of that makes it more accessible. As a Gemini, with the motion of the planets, work to make your material more accessible. Maybe, you know, open-mic, or something.

The idea is to showcase some of the Gemini talent. We can’t do something for you unless you show us that you can do it.


The Crab - the Moonchild

The Crab

It is possible to complicate this to no end. It’s possible to make this a highly ornate and intricate structure. It’s possible to take a simple task and layer on conditions, emendations, and conditional terms that make this into a highly complex situation.

The simpler the problem? The more complexity that your Moon Child self is going to try and introduce as possible solutions.


Simple situation? Leave it alone. Simple problem, and just needs a tap from hammer? Then tap it with a hammer. There’s no need to make this an intricate and inelegant issue.

Cancer complications have merit, but this is one of those days — weeks — when complications really, and I mean really, aren’t needed.

Cancer: don’t obfuscate and complicate.

The Leo

The Leo

The Leo

Some years ago, I bought a house that — when I bought the place — it had a bad porch addition. It was a hillbilly, cedar-chopper looking addition. Plywood, and more, just chip board, fragmentally painted, while appealing to a certain redneck aesthetic, not really an attractive addition. The term “ugly architecture” comes to mind. It was obviously a homemade addition, and not a good one, at that. I moved in, tore it down and the value of the house went up.

Take away one item. One addition, one “thing,” remove just one part, and watch the value soar.

It’s a simple message for the majestic Leo, it’s about taking something away, not adding something to the mix, removing one thing. Some folks have suggested that I remove some words, and that would make me better.

Probably not going to happen, but it’s a nice gesture. I’m not The Leo so it probably wouldn’t work for me. However, as Jupiter makes his way through Scorpio, less is more. Think about what can be removed to make this a better experience for The Leo.



The Virgin

The best editors I’ve ever had? All Virgo or some kind of Virgo component in their charts. Every last one of them. Virgo Moon, Virgo Sun, some Virgo component as part of the internal — and external — make-up of the better editors I’ve enjoyed. The Virgo planet is commonly considered to be Mercury, currently with a brief residence in Scorpio. Like my former editors, not that I wouldn’t love to have another good one like that, but much like them, there’s an element that has to do with correcting grammar, punctuation, essentially, copy-editing the next few days.

This is best done with a red grease pencil. The shade of red attracts the eye, but as a grease pencil, it can be wiped off, as need be. Not all the Virgo edits are going to be well-liked. Those un-liked edits? We, the non-Virgo people who are getting edited? We don’t have to accept all the emendations.

I’m Sagittarius. Don’t follow me on this, and use an indelible red marker to make suggestions. I tend to always have a red sharpie these days, and that’s not the correct Virgo tool.



The Scales

Sitting in a real diner, early one fall morning, I was casually listening to the background music. This was a traditional diner, and it had — at the time — traditional C&W music quietly playing. David Allen Coe was signing the perfect country and western song. He’s a bit of an outlaw that the outlaws don’t really always tolerate. The song blended into A Coal Miner’s Daughter then something else came on and I couldn’t make out the lyrics exactly, but the sound? To me? Old Grateful Dead.

Could be me.

I doubt, in that diner, before a cool winter sunrise, that it was vintage Dead from “The vaults,” as they refer to it. The song was soft and lyrical with harmonies and minor key, kind of a signature — in my mind. Bacon and eggs, and I was off — think I was on my way to Austin.

Just ahead the wan orange glow on the eastern horizon, Mars and Venus were winking out — in Libra. Halloween is upon us, and the love planets are cozy yet again in Libra.

Like sitting in a diner listening to old-school music piped in, a reflection and remembrance, consider too, that this is a solace and comfort. Part of what this week’s planets indicate, solace and comfort, although, not everyone will find old C&W, and a diner breakfast, as the source of comfort. Works for me.

About the author: Born and raised in a small town in East Texas, Kramer Wetzel spent years honing his craft in a trailer park in South Austin. He hates writing about himself in third person. More at KramerWetzel.com.

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