Horoscopes for 10.25.2018

    How all occasions do inform against me,
    And spur my dull revenge! What is a man,
    If his chief good and market of his time
    Be but to sleep and feed? A beast, no more.

Hamlet in Shakespeare’s Hamlet 4.4.32-5

Happy Scorpio Birthday!

Next week, Retrograde Venus slips backwards into Libra.

Horoscopes for 10.25.2018




Elastic nature of time, in Shakespeare’s plays. You know, not unlike a TV show plot? Seriously, not much critical thought is required here; watching some TV show, and the office, it’s daytime, drinking coffee; cuts to a downtown shot at night, crime scene, CSU on the job; cuts back to the office, and the boss is just getting to work; elastic nature of time in a story, right? I got at this from one of Shakespeare’s plays, Hamlet, where there’s a series of events, and the timeline as we establish it, doesn’t hold up to close scrutiny. Poetic License, a thing I know about, myself. Remember that a ripping good yarn, a tale as told by whatever — whomever — the idea of gripping story makes up for holes in plausible reality. Besides, this is fiction, and as such, fiction doesn’t have to be too coherent. The elastic nature of time will come into full play, with Scorpio, the closer we get to the next week, as Venus shifts back to Libra.


The question of the week, “Where did you fly, the first time?” Local guy I know, his first flight, his first trip, he was well-passed midlife when he went to Las Vegas, and that was his first flight. He’d never flown before. Weird, to me. But I grew up with a globetrotting family, and travel is in my bloodline. By extension, air travel is all part of my background. In the earliest portions of my career, at one point, the gate staff knew me at the old Austin airport.

So where did you fly, the first time you took commercial air? Or private? I know a number of folks who have owned their own planes, or time share a plane, or rent, but flying was important. Growing up adjacent to West Texas, air travel became a way of life, as it sure beat the alternative of driving for days on end and still not getting there. This question seemingly innocuous at first, is about digging back into the Sagittarius psyche, and looking for clues. One of the clues starts with the seemingly simple question, “Where did you fly first?” While I can’t say with any certainty, I’m pretty sure, based upon photographic evidence, and family lore, our first trip was to Temple, Texas. Not a tourist hotspot or exotic destination, seemed like it meant something at the time. So, Sagittarius, where did you fly the first time?


Sage is a miraculous herb. I find it, most frequently, in bundles, and those are supposedly used for a variety of rituals that purify through smoke. Waft that burning stick of sage around, though, and I get a variety of reactions. At least one buddy, retired Army guy, he sniffs, winks, and assumes it’s pot that he smells. “Hippy,” is his moniker for me. It’s not pot, and although I think marijuana should be legal, even if it was, I couldn’t partake, as I have such a thin grip on reality as we know it, yeah, not my thing. But thanks for offering. Asking, I mean thanks for asking. Not what this is about, either. As a way to purify a space, or cleans a place, or wash out evil, or whatever the correct Capricorn expression might be? As a way to accomplish that goal, I use sage, usually burns a portion of a small bundle, just to make things right in my world. Indoors I have to be careful as too much sage sets off the smoke alarm and the requisite visit from the fire department, which to some people might be cool, but no, it’s not, not really. Still, there needs to be some symbolic way to clear the air and purify your Capricorn space. I suggest sage. Just some dried leaves, crushed up in a bowl, even that works well enough.


Buddy of mine was giving directions to a place to eat. “It’s down the hill, near the bottom, you know, where,” then he inserted the name of two streets. They do intersect. There is a little taco place there, and the food is — as expected — excellent. The problem with the directions? It’s not at the bottom of the hill, it’s near the top of a hill. Geographically speaking, which, I thought, look at it on a contour map that shows the elevations? Look at from where we were standing? It’s up the hill, not down the hill. However, I’ve long since learned, with certain friends, I don’t listen with the strictest of interpretations, as in “Down the hill” or “up the hill.”

It’s more fluid and less objective. With the Sun in Scorpio, along with Jupiter, but Mars in Aquarius, and Venus, retrograde backwards towards Libra? All of that spells out “figurative” rather than “literal.” As in, figuratively speaking, it was down the hill, although, literally, it was up the hill. Failure to understand? This lands up a famous creek with no paddle, both firguratively and literally.


At one point, I would, at the slightest prodding, buy a book. A tangible book, the real thing, words on paper, paper bound in a cover with a title on the spine, a real book, and certainly not a digital copy. These days, I love it when I can get a digital copy to go with a physical book, as it’s not often that I use the physical book much, but certain authors, I tend to like having a real book, but for me? The digital is just ever so much easier to read, and makes commenting more convenient, too. However, even like this, I started to accumulate too many books that I want to read, but probably won’t have time. Mostly these are academic treatises relating to Shakespeare’s works, as such, these are wonderful mind-candy for me, but then I start to collect them, and mean to read them, but never get around to the text itself. Always an allure, over time a scholar of some merit spits out a new book on a subject that I have passing familiarity with. Still, what I’ve learned, I have to try the book first. Library, digital library, Apple Books’ sample thing, any of that is better than making the purchase. This isn’t limited to Shakespeare scholarship, but for me, it was the quickest, easiest example. For Pisces, this is a good time to walk through the bookstore, real or imagined, and think about the books, but maybe, not a purchase, yet. Well, unless it’s one of mine. Those are always good, cf., astrofish.net/books.


Me? I’m a big fan of thinking and critical analysis. I’m a big fan of taking an analytical look at situations then figuring the longer term implications, and the way it drives forward. I’m a big fan of thinking it through before making a move. As an Aries, yeah, you’re not known for thinking first then calculating the next, most correct, course of action. What I like about Aries, jump first, then figure out where to land about halfway through the action. Usually. As of late there’s a been much mental consternation and thinking too much is a problem. Sure, I can blame Venus, but this is my job, to assess threats and make a judgement call about who is really at fault.


That’s my story. However, as an Aries-compliant person, looking at what is up ahead, next few days, less thinking alone, and more “Let me bounce an idea off you” type of discourse. Serves your Aries self better to seek outside counsel


In old-fashioned astrology, the way I learned this at the feet of my superiors? The teachers, sages, and guides all taught me that Taurus was ruled by Venus. So when Venus slips from one sign to another, especially when Venus was opposite Taurus, this is felt down to your Taurus Toes. This next week, Venus does slip back into Libra, and that brings about a need for balance with one — or more — of the Taurus relationships.


It’s a tricky act, and one I never mastered, nor, does it look like, I will master any time too soon. However, this isn’t about me — this is about the inherent — and obvious — Taurus message to carry you forward, through the immediate days. While I can’t make everything better all at once, this little dance with the planet Venus, your planet, relatively speaking, it works in such way as to make this better, if you seek the correct balance. Instead of trying to forge ahead, consider the actions, there apparent backward motion of Venus, and consider working through old material to find that harmony the situation calls for. It’s a tricky point, a target that might seem impossible to reach, but shoot for it, a balance point between previous occurrences. Not trying something new, no, that’s not it, it is that balance point between previous materials — that’s all.


“So you love words, eh?” Buddy of mine was listening to me chat up a young lady, as I slipped from borderland patois filled with invectives to textbook French, to a quote from Shakespeare. All in the space of a quick comment. While it didn’t impress the girl, my buddy was suitably gulled. Continue to introduce a noun to a verb and see the results, repeat often, and it becomes a habit. I do love playing with the nuances of language, and it seems like a bit of fun when I can make a joke across more than one language. I tend towards the Romance Languages as that is my educational background. Not bad, not good, just what I was taught. As a Gemini, follow where this conversation is headed. I set out to impress a young woman, and, instead, a buddy garnered real insight into my what makes me tick. Some would suggest my mainspring is sprung, and I wouldn’t argue that. With the approach and then misalignment of Venus, while the first — stated — Gemini goal is probably not achieved, the results of the efforts pay off in other ways.

“Your French accent is perfect.”

For about 30 seconds, which, to a Gemini, that can be a long time.



“Then you’re just stupid.” A buddy of mine, a socially cognizant, politically leftist liberal type? He was arguing with another buddy, politics, it gets ugly, and the other guy was a gun-toting redneck, right-wing, just shy of nut-job, but that pretty properly explains his positions, or how they look to me. Left and right, Democrat and Republican. Atheist and Christian. Logic and, and wait, the analogies fall apart. In previous encounters with like-minded arguments, it’s usually my Right-Wing, hardcore freedom loving, anti-government buddies who are quickest to drop into the shouting match and from there?

The argument escalates to an ad hominem type of attack. In other words, if one cannot win based upon logic then attack the person, or, as I like to put it, “And your mother dresses you funny!”

What was greatly amusing to me, the right-winger, good buddy of mine although we differ in certain ideological circles, he was arguing with logic, facts, and calm voice while my liberal buddy was out of line, and then, lacking substance, resorted to well, “Then you’re just stupid.” Louder and louder, while all I could do was be amused to see the usually calm lefty getting his political butt kicked in an argument. All right, this is about arguing — and for Cancer Moon Children — winning. Stick to facts, otherwise? “Then you’re just stupid.”

The Leo

Love me some hero types. Love me being saved by the hero. Love it when the prince charming rides in on his (her) big, white horse, and makes everything better. Or princess, as is my case, I like being saved by a princess, but adjust as need be for The Leo. Remember the Venus thing going on, even now? What with Mars, currently in residence in Aquarius, which, I might add, is opposite from The Leo?

This creates a situation wherein you’re waiting for Price Charming to ride and save your magnificent Leo butt, or the Princess, like I said, adjust as need for the correct gender but waiting for that other person to pop up, show up, or ride in, to save you? Probably not happening this week. There is a point where Leo self-reliance is required, and that would be right about now. Other than waiting on the savior — prince or princess charming — instead of waiting, hitch up The Leo britches, pull on the “Big Girl Panties,” whatever expression works? And consider doing it bereft of assistance at this time. You’ll thank us later for not helping.

The Leo: It is counterintuitive, but by next week, you’ll see this works better.


“Works better if it is plugged in.” Old adage, and one I’ve used before. What was different, this time, was it was one that happened to me. I have a special cord for charging the phone-thing, and I keep that cord plugged into the charger-thing that’s then plugged into the computer-thing. Overnight, I had set the phone to charge and it was dead, showing a mere 15% of battery left the next morning. I was worried sick until I looked for a scrap of paper. Under the paper loose paper on the top of the desk that holds the monitor and the phone-charger-plug-into-computer thing, I saw that the charging cable was disconnected.

”Works better if it is plugged in.”

Yeah, thanks, smart-ass. I know that. What I was blissfully unaware of, the charger was disconnected by me, or someone, and there was no overnight juice. This stuff, battery technology is great, but this stuff replenishes quickly. All good, now, once I found out what the problem was, I wish I knew who disconnected it, and it charged back up in hurry, now at 50%. Still, as Virgo looks at this week?

“Works better if it is plugged in.”


I never claimed to have good hearing, and as I’ve aged, it’s getting less accurate. However, the other afternoon? I overheard some travelers talking about Chico’s Tacos (in El Paso, TX). Amusing, to me, as Chico’s Tacos are legend, as well as a benchmark, of sorts, for what one knows about El Paso, TX. The tacos themselves are more like a flauta, and the concoction is covered in some kind near-industrial, watery, tomato-like paste, then topped with grated cheese-like substances. Local favorite cure for hangovers, and typical high-school fare at late hours, and as a totemic touchstone, a local icon. It is strictly a regional phenomenological product. Listening to someone else talk about Chico’s Tacos brings back a flood of memories. I’m neither pro or con for Chico’s, but El Paso was a regular whistle-stop on my route for close to three decades. As such, I recognize the siren’s call of distinctly local fares. This is about comfort food, whether one really likes the stuff or not. For Libra, overhearing the simple term, like Chico’s Tacos, sometimes, that’s all it take to release the floodgates of memories.

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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 trailer park in South Austin. He hates writing about himself in third person. More at KramerWetzel.com.

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