“O, sir, to such as boasting show their scars
A mock is due. Will you walk on, my lord?
She was belov’d, she lov’d; she is, and doth:
But still sweet love is food for fortune’s tooth.”
Exeunt.

Troilus in Shakespeare’s Troilus and Cressida IV.v.290-3

“A mock is due,” and one buddy coined an expression, “Drink-O de Mayo.”

Yes, and there’s always his conclusion, too, “sweet love is food for fortune’s tooth.” Hint: doesn’t end well.

Our terms of service, the fineprint may have changed. Please read it all and understand you agree to it. All of it. You will be tested at a later date.

Horoscopes starting 5.3.2018

Taurus

My horoscope for Taurus ends when — this week — about the same time Jupiter is opposite from the Sun. “Opposites are bad?” Not really, but it is a building and cresting kind of energy, and like a wave about to break, it hasn’t got there yet. But close, so close it a very palpable energy. The easiest use of this energy is get in the flow and realize that this is not exactly coherent, not exactly congruent, but certainly useful luck. Luck is, at best a gamble, and the odds are long, but the I’m a “long shot” kind of a guy. As a Taurus, though, I would suspect you’re less of a “beat the insurmountable odds” type of person.

As the Taurus birthdays roll through, take a shot. I didn’t say bet the farm, I didn’t say jump and hope someone can build wings as your fine Taurus self plummets downward. I didn’t say take a huge leap of faith, but in my mind, the simplest way to see this? Buy a lotto ticket. Costs a buck.

There’s a jarring, not bad, just one of those, “No one expected that” kind of energy. I just want to help to along. Buy a single lotto ticket.

Taurus: when you win big next week, I would like 1% — I’m not greedy.

Gemini

Ever seen those “smart” thermostats? The programmable, and now, there’s an app for that controls for the home AC/Heat? Yes, one of those. Coming back from the lake, fishing the other day, I stopped for a cool beverage, naughty little gesture where I got diet coke, really, a fountain Diet Dr Pepper, but never mind, the chemicals, the carbonation, the stained water, none of it is good, but it tastes so great, and after fishing, yes, it was rather warm, I deserved it — pictures are on the website someplace. Anyway, I looked down at my phone, and I cranked the AC back down. Usually, when I’m away, it heats right up. Saves money. But this was a hot afternoon on the water, yes, rather warm for early May, so I tapped the app to fix the AC at home.

Mark Twain called it, “All the modern inconveniences,” I believe.

Gemini: there are two messages here.

First, Gemini, pull over before you mess with your phone to play with an app, or message or anything. I know you thinks you can, but you can’t. So, pull over, like me, I stopped and got a icy-cold beverage to cool off.

Second, Gemini, realize that this technology is not perfect. When I got home? AC still hadn’t kicked on, so the house was still warm.

Good thing I stopped and got a cold drink, huh.

Cancer

For the beginning of my career, I spent a fair amount of time dealing with technology for recording phone readings. I’ve been at this quite some time. In that vein, the technology has vastly improved, and the process is greatly simplified. Still, there’s a certain amount of superstition, ritual, and process to this.

For example, I have to be cleaned up for a phone reading. In theory, I could be naked, or near naked, and talk on the phone, but for some reason, the way my brain works, I need to be shaved, showered, and fully clothed.

On the phone for a reading the other day, person on the other end paused, “Hold on a minute, I have to pop a breath mint.”

Phone. Wireless phones, anymore, and while “Smell-O-Vision” is an idea, and with some hi-def video conferencing, yes, it could happen, no, that really doesn’t matter, not at this moment. It hasn’t happened yet, not that I’m aware of. Still, there is ritual, and the person on the other end, never mind, this is about what makes my Cancer Moon Children happiest.

Pop a breath mint before you talk on the phone. Or, like me, get fully dressed, such as it is, before you do what you do.

The Leo

I’ve been writing horoscopes for — a really long time. I have printed copy from, I’m guessing, as it doesn’t have a date on it, about 1987. The first version of these horoscopes? That might be it. I revisited that place, ten years later, and I didn’t really have a much of connection, not any longer.

One of the goals, and I still have the “hate mail” from this one event, was a person upset that I was repeating the same analogy from one week to the next, in a different sign.

That, in a concise form, is my complaint about too much computer generated horoscopes and similar texts.

I have a firm, with myself, no repeat policy. The challenge being, after 30 years, which metaphors have I used, over-used, and repeated? While I never intend to repeat the same analogy twice, it can happen. However, as I set about writing a horoscopes, especially a horoscope for The Leo, I stick to my goal of “No repeats.” But I’m not The Leo so it easier for me to fall short of the stated goals.

This is less about an outside influence, and more about the internal voice, that might Leo voice, even as an inside voice, still louder and more strident than others, and that voice is comparing, contrasting, and complaining.

Two problem areas, one is a called a “false equivalency,” and that makes for an unfair, unjust to some, comparison. Don’t fall of that trap. The other? Be wary of material that has been covered, previously. Shoot for my “no repeat” policy. Hint: that’s a goal, not always a target I hit, but something to aim for.

Virgo

In a simple expression? “Real world versus the ideal world,” or? More to the point? “Real world versus the ideal Virgo world,” with the usually addendum, “Real world versus the idealized and far more perfect because it is cleaner, within the constraints the Virgo mind, since, after all, we know what is best.” Got a point there. I do like the Virgo way of seeing this; however, I would be remiss if I don’t take some time to point a few flaws in the ideas. That idealized, perfect world does inhabit the current version of the Virgo brain.

The real world, or reality, or whatever it is that we try and avoid, but inconveniently inserts itself in space, over and over?

Yes, that’s here, and it is here — to stay. Stop arguing with it. If you were harmless Sagittarius — like me — you could get away this. The Virgo brain, the other part that I like about Virgo? That brain is latching onto something that might — or might not — be real.

Real world versus the idealized, Virgo perfect world. Regrettably, the real world usually wins out. Doesn’t mean you shouldn’t dream and dream big, let your fantasies run amok, sure, but understand what’s real, and what’s not.

Which, this week? Might be a it of a challenge.

Libra

Some mornings require a second pot of coffee. As the Moon moves through her third quarter, couple of days, this week, early next week, for Libra? Feels like there is something out of whack. Not quite enough drive to get whatever you want done, not quite enough energy to get it all done. For me, the simplest solution is to think about a “Second pot of coffee.” While I rarely make a second pot of coffee, I will think about it. With the miracles of modern since and age-old wisdom combines the single-serving coffee pour-over is more quotidian.

A single serving, a single, extra serving of coffee, or whatever beverage motivates your Libra self? Some days, weeks even, just some days take that extra set of steps, like, a second pot of coffee.

I won’t even brew a real pot of coffee, just a funnel, hot water, and fresh coffee grounds, or, to break this up a little? I might have a serving of tea.

There’s a two-fold approach, you know, Venus in Gemini, and that two-fold approach serves the Libra energies well, as it does double-duty. One, it imparts a little more caffeine, or whatever go-juice one prefers, and two, it requires a pause from the current activities, to prepare that second pot of coffee.

Some mornings require a second pot of coffee.

Scorpio

This probably comes under the heading of “Cocktail Party chatter,” and to be honest, it’s been maybe a dozen years since I’ve been to a “cocktail party.” There’s an undercurrent when talking to a certain Scorpio in that type of a social setting, though, which was when, I invoked the term, “cocktail party,” as that conveys a sentiment, even if it isn’t the actual location.

Think this is more social and less business. Think this is more along the lines of gossip, hearsay, and other verbal deliveries that might, or might not, be true.

I write horoscopes, cast astrology charts, and I fish. No one expects any amount of truth from me. I surprise them all by being truthful, all the time. At this point, this isn’t about me being Sagittarius, no, this is about age, and I can’t remember the convoluted fables and that are the foundation for a good lie.

So even in a social setting, this next few days, when invited to partake in frivolous hyperbole, banter, or flat-out untruths, Scorpio?

Don’t.

Even when the tale helps exemplify a point? Yeah, stick to the truth, as you know it, rather than fabricating a story.

Sagittarius

To some people, it appears that I drink an outlandish amount of coffee. Previously, I have revealed that I used to use nothing but a single collection of demitasse cups, so a small pot of coffee, two cups, feels like a huge amount.

Patterns change. Now that it is warmer, I seem to switch to tea, just simple, black tea in the afternoons. My most recent method of preparation was a larger tumbler with a single retail bag, and then, maybe a teaspoon of local honey. I am generally adverse to the use of sugar or sugar-like sweeteners in my own tea; however, there are days when a little something extra is required. A little something extra to take the edge off.

There are two pieces of information in my slight change in pace. One, a distinct shift from an established routine is good for Sagittarius, like, for me as an example, from coffee to tea. Two? Along with that shift, consider a little dollop of something to make the shift a bit more palatable. Perfect example? A teaspoon of honey.

Capricorn

Truth in advertising. Simply put, this week is about “Truth in Advertising.” As a Capricorn-compliant astrology writer, I prefer truth in advertising — especially Capricorn advertising. However, there are some people, usually showing up in my junk mail, advertising that I might be a winner, or I might have an opportunity be reimbursed for millions of dollars I was scammed out of, if I just forward my name, address, and bank account numbers. Purportedly, the last time I looked, the email had a federal address, but the return email was suspiciously not.

I was looking at this while I was working on the Capricorn charts, poking along with Mars, and so forth. Kind of an interesting little “thump” coming along.

I thought about reproducing the scam email as a whole, and posting it online. I realized that doing so might attract the wrong attention. That anyone falls for such obvious antics? Either I’m really bitter, or some folks are just not that bright.

There is a two-fold message for Capricorn, the first idea don’t fall for any scam like that, especially when it is is so obviously a fraud. But the second message? As long as Mars is about to make an uncomfortable angle to Uranus, not even done with Pluto, as long as that is coming up? Think about the term, “Truth in advertising,” and stick to the letter — and spirit — of the expression.

Capricorn: Truth in advertising.

Aquarius

We understand that I originate from an unusual family, correct? “Weird” is not too harsh of a designation. One of my cousins was describing a certain venue for listening to classical music. That one cousin, gifted as a composer and well-versed in multiple forms of music, not good with traditional Country, but other than that, sure, knowledgable and talented. He described how one venue was a like a Wall of Sound based on the structural design of the venue. It’s original intent was the present an orchestral version of the “Wall of Sound.” Flipping around in my notes, thinking about the phase of the moon, and how that will have an effect on Aquarius, I stumbled across my unrelated notes about the venue and its “Wall of Sound,” as it was originally envisioned and then, thusly fitted.

What band was it, their tour advertised a “Wall of sound?” No, this is definitely rock, hard rock, I think. I might have that wrong, but no, think it was also a rock band, same idea. Maximum presentation for the best effect.

Old joke, about the
amplifier that goes to 11.

Shouldn’t get sidetracked. This was about my cousin, the description of a certain venue for listening to music. The description of the “Wall of Sound” sold me on the idea. Have to make a trip, just to hear music there. Worth it? It’s about the genesis of an idea, where it starts, and how we let this mature. What it grows into. For me, this is a trip.

For Aquarius? It’s the beginning, the place the idea started. Wall of sound, which band was that?

Pisces

Usually, I can come up with the perfect riposte, the perfect smart-ass answer, the zinger comeback that smacks someone right in the face, usually? I can come up with this right after the person that demands the snappy retort, usually I get this right after they walk away. I’m stuck with the perfect smart-ass, sarcastic, maybe with a tiny amount of bite buried in the comment, I can come up with this — after the person leaves. Soon as they walk away, depart, and as soon as they are out of hearing range, and not until they are gone that I can think of the really tight answer that would hit them dead between the eyes.

Feel my pain, oh Pisces dear? Feel my pain? Know the sense? Perfect answer, half a beat too late.

Just as a reminder, that’s what this week — that’s how this week goes. Perfect riposte, perfect auditory comment, right after that intended target is out of reach.

Can’t say that this isn’t “divinely inspired,” either, as there’s a bonus: since your target is out of range? That target misses your snarky, sarcastic reply. Which, in turn, is good because it would heartily offend the target, and more so than you think. Email it to me, write it down, save it for later, doesn’t much matter, but the nasty comeback? Maybe, as it turns out, this is a good thing that you don’t get it off quick enough.

Aries

When I lived in Austin I was in the — virtually — the backyard of what, it turns out, was some of the best BBQ — on this planet. I always assumed it was OK grub, nothing special, source of that one book’s title, Two-Meat Tuesday, which was, oddly enough, a personal favorite, less astrological, more self-referential.

What brought that up was sitting under the Texas skies, the other afternoon. Having some outstanding BBQ, dining with a neighbor. Flies were buzzing. Gnats were — whatever gnats doing, mostly being annoying. My buddy loved the brisket, but as I have a more refined palate, I’ll suggest it was good, but not outstanding. Ribs? Those were awesome.

That one place, it’s local, there’s a near-feral tame cat who begs food from the patrons. I fed the cat. She was happy.

All about that frame of reference, too, as those ribs are glazed with, think like the cherry sauce that’s leftover from jar of cherries, all sweet, sticky, sugary, and mostly red-dye #4? The claim is “Cherry-wood smoked,” but the flavor and coloration would suggest, “Sugar and food coloring.”

With Mars, and the Sun, where they are? With Venus in Gemini? The proper Aries response?

“Skip the brisket, here? It’s the ribs that are the thing.”

They really are.