What low’ring star now envies thy estate,
That these great lords, and Margaret our queen,
Do seek subversion of thy harmless life?

King in Shakespeare’s
Henry 6.2 (3.1.207-8)

The sun enters the tropical zodiac sign of Libra September 23, 2019, around 2:50 AM — CDT. Your mileage may vary.

Horoscopes for 9.19.2019

Virgo

The time has come and gone, when the Hatch Green Chilis were here. My roots with those magical peppers goes deep, back to the bad, old days, when Austin was a tawdry little backwater, and the mantra, “Keep Austin Weird” was a valid excuse. I was trying to figure out what the magic was, what the appeal was, what the appeal continues to be, as — seriously — these are just peppers, like a poblano or bell pepper, not quite as hot as a jalapeño — what’s the appeal of the Hatch Green Chilis?

Scooping the last of a cheese dip that was adorned with shredded Hatch Green Chilis, I was finally figured it out, I think, the beneficial properties of peppers are not disputed, science fact. So the Hatch Chilis have that healing, potentially mystical and metaphysical properties, and that’s the hook. Part of it, anyway. They taste identical to regular green peppers from other locations, so the magic, I’m not sure, it’s a thing, though, for sure. Hot, but not too hot, loaded with nurturing minerals and natural capsicum, but not too hot. Just enough without being overbearing. All the healing and flavor without the heat. Maybe that’s it. As the last of the Virgo birthdays sail past us? All flavor, but maybe, don’t turn the heat up too much.

Libra

An ad for a reasonably-priced, waterproof Bluetooth speaker cycled up. I thought about it — for the shower. I’ve read about this, online, where people have put a bluetooth enabled speaker, or speaker-phone in the shower. Music, podcasts, news, all of that, in the shower. Phone calls, too. Doubt I would even entertain the notion of a video call, but it could happen, for some. Is this a good idea, adding a speaker to the last bastion of privacy? I live a hyper-actuated, internet-web connected life as it is. Am I really interested in a speaker-phone, internet-activated, Bluetooth, 5G, in my shower?

The question goes far beyond the product described and the idea of being productive like that. It’s kind of an invasion of the last place I can run away from being too connected. On call, almost every day, constantly available? All of that. The shower is my one respite, a place of refuge. I like the idea of super-productivity, and I do some wonderful thinking in the shower. But no, not getting a speaker phone for my shower. You’re looking at something, Libra, like a speaker phone for the shower. “I could record all my greatest ideas, before they swirl down the drain.” I used a grease pencil like that for a while. Most of those ideas, maybe all of them? The ones that didn’t stick? Good thing they did swirl down the drain. Instead of one more invasion of your privacy? Think about having a little time to yourself.

Scorpio

I’ve been accused of many things, and one was using simple keyword associations with each sign rather than delving deeply. However, I’m reminded of a simple Tarot Card that is frequently associated with Scorpio: the Death Card. Or “Death,” a skeletal figure, dark cloak, grinning skull, and maybe a long scythe, you know, the Grim Reaper.

Time and again, though, I get tired of explaining that the death of an old ideal is merely the beginning of something new. Change. Transformation. Old growth swept aside to make way for the new. Transformation.

However, as a good Scorpio? Not too onboard with the whole “change” thing. To suggest that a good Scorpio is resistant to change? Yeah, never mind. We know how that argument goes. I spent an hour — his nickel, — arguing about being stubborn. Proved my point. So “I’m not stubborn and I’m not resistant to change — at all!” Sure. This week? Prove it. Transformations are there, make them of your own, good Scorpio, making. “Yeah, I wanted to do that.”

Sagittarius

Arrogance is a fatal flaw. Luck’s a gamble, but hard work tends to yield better results. As a lucky Sagittarius myself, I can testify about hard work, perseverance, and luck.

“Luck” is a function of being prepared. “Luck” is a function of my training, my dedication, my “muscle memory” of how to handle a situation. There are a couple of fishing knots I can tie in my sleep. Practice, repetition, more practice, practical application, and more practice. There’s a secondary gesture I tend to make before I pull the fishing line tight with the new knot — I spit on it. With certain light line, every tiny motion matters, and pulling the knot tight, the friction can weaken the plastic line. Just a slight amount of moisture lubricates it, and I tend to just spit on it. Not a lot, just enough to moisten the knot so it doesn’t overheat, and this is now muscle memory from doing it so often.

I was out with a buddy, and his gear was rigged with different line. I still moistened the knot before I pulled it tight. There’s a picture on the website someplace of me with a big fish. Good thing I moistened the one like that. Arrogance, “This line is strong enough,” versus my muscle memory. Don’t be arrogant; those are some crafty fish.

Capricorn

Spend enough time traveling back and forth, and listening to people, as much as I have, and after a while? I get to the point where I think I’ve seen it all. Felt it all, too. Feel like I’ve been there and done that, and back again.

This isn’t a challenge, but yes, there’s not much new that I haven’t seen — in some capacity. As a Capricorn, this is a “tired season.” Full of the rush of the new school season, the hint that there might be fall weather soon, and in some places, I’ve been told, it is the full on end of summer, with leaves hinting that winter is coming. Sure, all works. Tiresome, though, at times, am I right? That’s really caused by the motion of the planets that move into Libra, rather than any other source of fatigue. The Capricorn fatigue and ensuing “funk” will pass soon enough. The passage of the Moon, just triggers this a little. A little more, maybe? The proper steps, with the onset of an apparent fatigue? Just keep plodding forward, as only a good Capricorn can, in times like this.

Aquarius

Tag line that works? “I prefer not to.” Simple, declarative statement, and simple enough, any non-Aquarius imbecile can understand it, right? The requests keep coming, and the easiest answer? “I prefer not to.” It’s simple, not an outright refusal, but not a ringing endorsement, either. I didn’t suggest that your Aquarius self wasn’t going to fulfill the request, no, that’s not it. But when the questions comes like, “Can you do this for me?” The appropriate Aqiuarius answer? “I prefer not to.” Didn’t out and out refuse, just let it be known that this action, the request, the behest, the whatever, it falls outside the preferred Aquarius list of doable, actionable activities. “But just this once, can you do this for me?” You know the drill, and you now know the correct answer, “I prefer not to.” Might want to practice this one in front of the bathroom mirror a time or two, and determine, is it delivered with Aquarius arrogance or Aquarius humility? Instead of just asking, “No?” Try my line, as need be. Can you do that for me? “I prefer not to.” It’s working already.

Pisces

Picked this one up a while back, but I liked it. Neptune is like cosmic nail polish remover. Ever been around that stuff? Old girlfriend was addicted to “Having her nails done.” I’m not that smart, but smart enough to know that I don’t get it, but she liked sitting there while dangerous chemicals were applied to her nails? Sure, whatever. $20 gift card went a long way. However, looking through her little tool kit for nail repair, like a traveling set lotions and potions, I noticed that the “nail polish remover” was a seriously strong solvent, probably gets you high, too, and if that’s the case, probably very bad to inhale. Maybe that’s why she liked me so much?

Don’t ask questions.

Neptune is like that solvent: dissolves most near anything artificial that it comes in contact with; like nail paint, but then, clothes, any lacquered surface, automobile finishes, just about any place that is plastic, or plastic-like. In the life of Pisces, remember that the cosmic version of nail polish remover is still quite present, and that it tends to peel away layer after layer of illusions, slowly, over time, gradually dissolving the persistent denial.

Aries

My first “metaphysical tool” was a now-ancient set of Tarot cards, a specific deck, and the teacher who gave them to me thought the cards were cursed. I still have that deck, and several other copies, similar to them. Same design, essentially, the one I’ve used for most of my career as a — whatever it is I do.

I’ve found, as an intuitive supplement, the cards are valuable for listening to my own, internal guidance, as interpreted by the images on the cardboard. My other favorite tool is a pendulum, and using it is super-simple. It swings one way for “Yes,” and another way for “no.” These are two tools that are an adjunct to what I do as an astrologer.

The intuition is all mine, the tools merely reflect back what information I’m seeking, or feeling, or whatever. Most of my former professional colleague use the term, “Spirit guided me.” Spirits may guide you, but I tend to call it intuition. The Aries intuition is strong right now. That’s the good news. Reading that Aries intuition is the problem. I suggest tools of one form or another, just to make sure the message is clear.

Taurus

One Shakespeare studies thing I was listening to, it was about the Shakespeare History plays, as they are called. The notion, accepted by most, is that the plays themselves, based on actual events, are kind of “fast and loose” with the facts. As such? The way the plays are presented, and, indeed, much of that early English History? Instead of calling them History Plays, call them Tragedies. Wars, internecine fighting, backstabbing, political intrigue, none of it ends well, sufficient to say, and as such?

Call them the “Lamentable Tragedy of the History of King Henry 6,” and so forth. Packaged as tragedies, it would serve ever so much better. Problem with this idea? Never mind it makes better sense, but the original publication of the complete works, not quite 400 years ago? Three categories, and those have mostly stuck. Labeled once, and left like that despite overwhelming suggestions. But most of the plays are tragedies, dressed as history. It’s not about the accuracy, it’s about the frame of the tale.

Taurus has a chance to change the frame, the window dressing, the way we see an issue, something as simple as the taxonomy of some Elizabethan plays. While the change with the Shakespeare’s History Plays won’t change, at least thinking about them in terms of Tragedies? Makes a bitter pill much easier for Taurus to swallow. Likewise, thinking about it in different terms? Makes life better for Taurus.

Gemini

Fall Equinox, coming up soon, to some? Pumpkin Spice. Personally, I find Pumpkin Spice horrifically obnoxious. That’s me. Full Moon, then equinox, then the days seem a just a touch shorter. Where I live, not so much that one can actually tell that the days are shorter, but it feels like that. Just a little bit cooler. Having travelled, though, I remember a late August in Colorado and there was a dusting of snow on the distant peaks. So in South Texas, it’s still hot, maybe not as blistering, but quite warm.

In Gemini, it’s not blistering anymore, but still, quite warm. The converse, this being Gemini, the flip side could also be true. Just a dusting of the first winter snow, visible. Whatever the signs are, whatever it is your Gemini self is looking for? Look for the subtle hints of change. Coming. Soon. Watch for the signs. There is significant change on the Gemini horizon. Watch for the subtle, nuanced signs.

Cancer

There’s one “professional associate” who will proclaim that this is “bad for Cancer.” Always one, you know? However, I figure that’s a way see through the mess and make the most of a bad situation. Or realize, it’s not “bad,” per se, just uncomfortable. Distasteful. Unlikeable. Unrealistic. Not necessarily fun.

Not “bad,” just less than wonderful? Sure. Acknowledge that. Admit it. “I look/feel like hell.” Got it? I’m sure you do. To me, you look fine. To me, you have a brief amount of self-inflicted personal discomfort, but it is possible to move beyond that. When I roll out of bed at 4 or 5 in the morning to go fish, I don’t care what I smell like. There’s the stink from the night before, the unshaven look, my hair sticking up in places, and the clothing might not be all too fresh, either. I’m going to spend a large portion of the day in a boat, probably sweating profusely, and handling fish that smell like fish. Bait, and fish, none of this creates a pleasant scenario. I don’t care, fresh off the water, the first thing? Bath. So there are times when that disheveled, smelly look is all right. Bad time to be around some people, but a great time to fish. Work it out.

The Leo

I’m pretty sure, as The Leo, you know the right stuff. Pretty sure you have the answers. But with the disturbance where it is? One of the coolest ways to show off without showing off is to answer their questions, the non-Leo people, answers their questions with more questions.

Do you know what I mean?

Just because you have the right answer is no reason to belittle other, non-royal signs. Answering a question with a question throws the weight off The Leo’s shoulders, and helps guide us to arrive at the correct answer, on our own steam, under our own power, and that makes your Leo self look better in the bigger scheme of things. All important, you know, let’s us arrive at the Leo specific answer by you asking more questions instead of answering them.

Do you know what I mean?

The sometimes didactic, or socratic way of answering a question with a question is the Leo route to success, if you know what I mean?

astrofish.net/travel for appearances

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“Nothing runs on automatic.” – L.W. “Bud” Shipley, Jr.