Horoscopes starting 12.21.2017

    Opinion’s but a fool, that makes us scan
    The outward habit by the inward man.

Simonides in Shakespeare’s
Pericles, Prince of Tyre (2.2.56-7)

The Sun enters the Tropical Zodiac Sign of Capricorn Dec. 21, 2017 at 10:27 AM.

Mercury goes un-retrograde
Dec. 22, 2017 at 7:50 PM.

Merry Xmas or whatever.

Horoscopes starting 12.21.2017



The Sea Goat

Being a writer is, at best, a rather lonely existence. There’s the concept of gathering data to build whatever the writer chooses to build, novel, story, narrative of some sort, but the craft itself is a word processor and imagination. What creeps into the work is the writer’s own psychological demons, fears, trauma, hurt, pain, joys, and some success. The line between what’s real and what’s sheer imagination is hard to decipher. Fate or fiction? Mostly pain, tears, fears, and troubles — real or imagined. As the Sun illuminates the soul of Saturn, and by extension, the soul of Capricorn, we’re faced with some questions. What part is real, and what part is sheer imagination? What part is fiction, and what part of this experience is based on previous experiences, perhaps thinly veiled, perhaps layered in myth and metaphor, and maybe, out there for all to see? Saturn — in the coming years — will lend a degree of discernment to some of the Capricorn sky, but also, tinged with this last Mercury Retrograde period? We might not be able to tell what is fate and what is fiction.

And for that one mighty Capricorn buddy? What is fate and what is friction?



The Water Bearer

Funny, to me, meme image surfaced. It was from an ad that ran before my time, but someplace, in advertising’s history, it is immortalized as an example of some aspect of communication. The picture itself is a goldfish, a harmless little goldfish, with a shark fin strapped to its back, so it looks like a shark fin above the water, and from the side, clearly visible, it is just a tiny goldfish. I don’t even recall what it was advertising.

The image resurfaced, reused, repurposed, and retitled. The joys of the networked worlds we live in. Someone obviously lifted the original image, or maybe scanned an older print version, and I’m unsure of where the trail takes that idea. However, as I was looking over the coming Xmas week for Aquarius? Think about that image. A goldfish, with a shark’s fin. The question, as Mars and Jupiter course their ways through Scorpio, not exactly the most comfortable, but not all bad, no, just a position not always happy for Aquarius, are you the goldfish with the shark’s fin? Or are you seeing the image in totality, understanding that it is merely a goldfish with a fin strapped on for appearance’s sake?



The Fishes

Wal-Mart, I think it was, had a Black Friday sale, freezers. I thought it would be great, but as I looked, less than hundred bucks? Still, not quite big enough to store a dead body. Of course, I’m joking. Well, not about the size or the sale, but intended use. Who needs to really store a dead body? More than one of my hunting friends do store partial animals, collected for meat, not for trophies, but I would surmise that this is different from my original, intended observations about a nice, cheap freezer, with its problem being, it just isn’t big enough to store a body.

Which brings me around to the Pisces point, when, at what point, did the idea of storing a dead body become funny? Yes, I know it’s rather ghoulish humor, perhaps a bit off the current track, but still, when did we, as a society, get to the point that I was amused by the idea that I might want, or need, to store a dead body.

When did this become a joke? Here it is, eve of one of the most important holidays of the year, and I’m trying to make lame, bad jokes that are distinctly uncharacteristic. I should be all unicorns and angels, little cherubs with gifts, and instead, I’m thinking about ways to get rid of dead bodies — purely as a fictional device.

As a Pisces, the jokes, the humor we use to defuse a situation, does it carry some macabre meaning? Hidden agenda? Or have we sunk so low? It’s about what we’re thinking, as this holiday hits full stride.

Yes, that last Mercury in Retrograde really did a number on me. Oh, yes, Pisces, still feeling it, too?



Aries The Ram

Phone rang. I looked down, fishing buddy. With modern technology where it is, I make a serious effort not to have to remember phone numbers — too much work. Remembering phone numbers over-taxes my already too-full memory. I’ll recite the positions of the Sun and the Moon, and the exact hour Mercury goes un-retrograde, but phone numbers? Probably not.

You call me, I save the number for later. Attach a name, and sometimes, an image. So when my buddy called, “Dude, what’s up!”

“Kramer? Crap, I’m sorry, guy who’s fixing my truck, he called, and I know it’s one of these numbers…”

I just laughed it off, poor guy, just running down his list of recent numbers, hoping he’ll get the right one.

I’ve got two fishing buddies, my Sister, that last girlfriend, and the conference lines all on speed dial. I could not, if coerced, recite any of these numbers. I just have them stored in the phone, backed up on a computer, and possibly printed out someplace. Maybe not. No need to think.

As an Aries, like my buddy, you’re looking for a number. As an Aries, like my buddy, you might just try calling the last few numbers, figure out which one is the correct one.



The Bull

Austin, once my home, still a home-away-from-home, at one time, it was a capital for musicians. Aspiring musicians — the entire gamut from wannabe to super-stars. Got to be a joke, for me, with my hair and genral appearance, “You play guitar?” Or, most commonly, “You’re that guitar player, aren’t you? I’ve seen you before…”

I gave up on weak denials, and finally caved, the last few years, I would say, “Yeah, Black Cat Lounge, 11 PM, Wednesday nights….” Leave an opening. At that time, the location was an empty shell, having been gutted by growth the year before. And fire.

So when I was listening to some of the older — real — musicians talk about Austin, “back in the day,” I was thinking, know how to get a guitar player off your front porch?

Pay for the pizza.

Taurus: there’s a simple solution to this week’s holiday madness. Just pay for it. It’s not that much, won’t break you, and it gets rid of an annoying problem.



The Twins

Your would think, being a Gemini-friendly person, you would think that I would have nothing but excellent news now that Mercury is non-Retrograde position. Or will be — officially — un-retrograde in the next day or so. There were compounding elements that play into this week’s noise from me to you, my fine Gemini folks. Part of this is merely North America’s silly obsession that conflates the two events, the Winter Solstice and the birth of Our Lord and Savior. It’s really the day that we celebrate, has very little to do with the real birth of that dude, what, a little more than two-thousand years ago, no, check the historical texts.

That’s the problem, too, as the elements get combined in ways that might — or might not — be beneficial to my little Gemini friends. As soon as I suggest you consult some historical text, the Bible comes to mind, that one passage from, I think it’s John, hear it most near every year, some variation, the sheep in the fields, and never mind.

See what happens? Not out of the Mercury is Retrograde induced stupidity just yet, and then, as a Gemini? We get stuck looking around at supplemental resources, like, I wonder, it was originally told in Aramaic, can I study up on that, maybe an online crash-course in old languages?

It’s way more difficult than usual for Gemini to focus. Be aware of that. Not bad, just —


The Crab - the Moonchild

The Crab

I think in terms of cosmic events and cosmological influences. The grand scheme, so to speak, the overall images, not just finite details. For finite details? I’ve got an accountant and more than my fair share of Virgo ex-girlfriends. No Virgo ex-wives, though, as no Virgo is ever that stupid. This isn’t about my ex-wives, ex-girlfriends, and former lovers, no, this is about Cancer the Moon Children. The cosmic events demand attention to the trivial like never before. The Cancer’s Cosmos demands one, last finite detail before we can wrap it all up, call it a holiday time, and get on with the usual festivities.

One finite detail requires, absolutely requires the Moon Child’s attention. Worse yet, this is a grand scheme, big overview that requires, almost mandates a finite amount of attention be spent looking after one, stupid, silly details that — might explain all those Virgo girls, once upon a time.

This does not require a Virgo. It requires a Virgo-like energy to make sure ever, last, simpering, details is looked after. It’s a grand message, and like some folks will say, “God is in the details.”

This week? For Cancer? Yes.

The Leo

The Leo

The Leo

Last July, I left I cryptic note to The Leo about Xmas in July, which, if you must know, is really a reminder to get an Xmas Special in place in time for reap the rewards of such a deal. Each year, I try to have some kind of Xmas Special, as I tend to be much-sought after in January, and I can do plenty in December, only, everyone is concentrating on Xmas, and I don’t get any traction. Here’s the big deal fort he majestic and wonderful Leo — we need an Xmas special, an Xmas Special for The Leo.

This is business. This is work. This is career. This does not involve gift-giving, retail therapies, or any other associated holiday activities. This is work. For me, I like my work so it’s not like it’s really “work work” but it is. For The Leo? It is what you make of it; however, a money’s pause, a little more work at the office, a little overtime, or a little bit of whatever it is? Goes a long way to make next year a big winner for your mighty Leo self. I’m always in favor of that.

If you must, look back, I mentioned this earlier, like last July: Xmas in July? Yes, in there.



The Virgin

My Shakespeare Scholarship really, it less scholarly and more like an occasional interest. I am, by no means, any kind of an expert. Early in my most recent academic career, I discovered that Shakespeare quoted material about astrology, over and over, and over. There was, in the time, a working knowledge of astrology because, basically, astrology and astronomy were the same thing, and the skies at night suffered much less light pollution. The stars were clearly visible. Made it much more apparent as to the intimate nature of the population’s interaction with matters astrological. Material from that era is just shot through with the allusions. However, I am, by no means or measure, whatsoever, a scholar of matters of Shakespeare. More like rabid fan-boy.

I can recall quotes, sometimes with alarming alacrity, as to location, act, scene, and other referral points. Other times, someone will pop up with a question and I’ll get that blank look.

Virgo: Like me, you’re an expert in a certain area. Like me, you have a working understanding of the mechanics, the timing, the structure, the cohesive nature of the material, whatever it is. Like me, you’re going to get challenged, and you suffer from “Kramer’s Syndrome,” where you get that blank look on your face. Just as a tip, as advice I can give, but don’t ask if I follow? Just as a tip? When confronted thusly, with something you know a great deal about but can’t recall the facts at the moment? Shut up. Shrug. Blank stare.

Unlike me, don’t blindly pound forward when an ounce of quiet will make you look really intelligent.



The Scales

There’e a weird kind of tension that creeps into life during the holiday season. This holiday season, with its uncertain planets, especially? Strange energies, for sure. The source of the tension can be easily traced to two main culprits. One of them is holiday marketing. Advertising. Miasmic advertising that insists I’ll be better off if I buy this, and give that, perhaps make a donation to a certain charity, and take care family. It’s really an artificial push, not part of the real world. The other influence — this is hemispherically-centric — the short days, long nights, and general darkness. Winter-time. A fun time, but a cold time, and the lack of light isn’t always welcome. Problematic at best. Combined?

The Libra Life is filled with small tensions. Not big ones, just that whisper-quiet suggestions that you’re forgetting something. You are.

I would be remiss if I didn’t remind you — you are forgetting something. However, as I do adore Libra so very much? You’re going to be forgiven for forgetting. Means you can quit worrying — for now.




On a mailing list I was attached to, there was a series of images for the staging of a modern log cabin, for sale. Staged for sale. The hall closet featured beautifully hewn shelving, a rustic, civilized touch. For the staging? Each shelf had a folded up towel and a pair of candles, on either side of the folded towel, ranged up and down on the half-dozen shelves. Candles. Wooden house. Very wooden shelves, obviously. With towels, so, yeah, I don’t figure any of that was flame retardant. My guess? Highly combustible. For a photographic essay, sure, it was cool. As an image that portrayed and helped sell a residence? Sure. Practically? I laughed. I mean, seriously, open flame on a wooden shelf with bare wood, right above it? That would go up in flames in matter of minutes. Doesn’t take long, not at all, then the whole house is toasted. Crisp. Reduced to cinders.

Merry Xmas, etc.

This Scorpio Xmas Holiday, use extra caution or, when common sense seems to take leave? That’s when it is required. Like candles. Sure, looks good, but that kind of deception can turn a festive event into a giant weeny roast.

Scorpio: Merry Xmas, etc., but be careful with open flame — and similar Scorpio properties.




Sagittarius: Don’t turn back. The highways in Texas are scattered with the carcasses of valiant armadillos who turned around. Indecision, or worse going backwards?

You’d think, after eons of natural selection, the valiant armadillo would not jump when excited, but that’s not how they work apparently. So a big truck rolls over an armadillo, crossing the road, and the armadillo’s natural reaction is to jump, which plants it in the undercarriage, which results in flat armadillo.

The other problem is indecision. Take a lesson from the armadillo, don’t look back, Sagittarius, don’t go back. That Saturn unpleasantness is behind us. Take a lesson from the armadillos littering the highways.

Sagittarius: Don’t turn back.

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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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