So flies the reckless shepherd from the wolf;
So first the harmless sheep doth yield his fleece,
And next his throat unto the butcher’s knife.
- King Henry in Shakespeare’s Henry 6.3 5.6.7-9
Horoscopes for 1.9.2020
Pure magic. In my own mind, it’s pure magic. Motoring along under the winter sky, a brilliant, early evening sunset display, and in the background, the gentle — slightly nasal — twang of Robert Earl Keen on the stereo. It’s a live version, and he’s either singing about waitress named Shelia, or the family getting drunk at Xmas time, or how the road goes on forever, with this coming off one of various “live” albums. Essential Texas music — REK has a birthday coming up — and the perfect backdrop for this week’s excursions.
More than 20 years ago, Robert Earl Keen’s “Live #2” perfectly captured the essence of a Texas honky-tonk, dive-bar, road-house band sawing its way through local hits. I am unsure that the music ever totally transcends the Texas experience, too. Still, this is part of the hues and shades of my world, and on that winter’s eve, setting Sun is in Capricorn, Mr. Robert Keen is singing about some aspect of life around here, and the as the light leaks out of the day, there’s a sense that we’re doing what we’re supposed to be doing. Saturn is here to check up on Capricorn, and Jupiter making sure that this sails along without a hitch.
I dug around in some historical crap to get a better sense of what this alignment in Capricorn is all about. This has happened before, and what it does, for Aquarius? This was about foundations. Foundations for a revolution. Foundations for sweeping social and economic change. Fundamental shifts in the zeitgeist of the times, a better understanding of man’s place in the world. Or woman’s place, whatever. Humans. Sweeping shifts in humanity’s outlook, and this led to a better grasp of what is really important.
What’s most important?
Patient, back-breaking work towards a single outcome. Patient, unrelenting effort towards a single, focused goal. Work hard, with little to no recognition for the efforts. Here’s the deal, you’ll win — eventually. Your Aquarius self will get recognized, eventually. Maybe not this week. That’s the problem, and that’s the good news, too, as you’re working hard? You probably don’t look your best, at the moment. Wouldn’t worry about it.
The glaucous winter sky is oppressive, at times. Feels like that cloud is right down on, and even in, the Pisces head. Part of my life was spent in the southwestern terminus of Tornado Alley, so that color of winter sky makes me think of twister weather. There’s a certain essence that it provokes, too. In the deepest of the winter months in South Texas, the frigid air masses, their cloud cover, and the depressing weather is what this is about for Pisces, as there’s an essence, you know it was going to be like this, right? It’s just kind of depressing. Well, the term “depressing” is what normal people would say, and even think, but what Pisces is even remotely close to “normal?” That depressive-looking weather just means this week offers an extra amount of time best used in self-reflection. Pisces self-reflection. Those glassy, grey, blue-green clouds? It’s about taking time to pause and reflect before jumping off in a new direction.
One Aries I knew? She had to come unhinged to be happy. Yell, scream, rant, rave, then cry and pout? After that, all was well. Until then, though? All the steps. Had to cycle through all of those emotions. This week, with the cacophony emanating from Capricorn, there’s a certain amount of emotional upheaval within Aries. Can’t stop that. Don’t have to buy into it, either. Mars (Sagittarius at the moment), makes for a lightening quick reflex action, and that’s not always good. This Capricorn containment is the problem, and what I’km suggesting, we know we’re all going to kiss and make up, at the end, right? Instead of ranting, raving, yelling, then crying and pouting? I can save much of that emotional wear and tear on the Aries soul. As calmly as possible? Sit down and shut up. You are right, this is a big deal, and you are right, you’re well within your rights to rant, rave, holler, and scream as much as you would like. The problem being? A little later? you’re going to want to adjust that Aries trajectory some. Maybe not by much, but after all the yelling and hollering? Kind of hard to go back, you know? If your first intuitive hit is to loudly make a scene? That’s the time, maybe you don’t want to. I didn’t say, “Not ever,” just not now.
Fishing buddy has small kids. Small kids have friends. Strangest thing I’ve seen, weird to me, anyway? Three or five year-old kid wearing a Rolling Stones World Tour 1977 concert T-shirt. I’m pretty sure that the copyright and trademark was out-of-date, and on tiny kid? Who is going to care? Still, it was one of the various anomalies that I see with kids. I’m guessing, even the parents weren’t old enough to see the Stones on tour, so the kid, definitely not. Maybe a nod to grandparents? I am unsure. Never got to ask. Maybe one of the parents was conceived around something to do with the Stones’s tour. Can’t say, never got to investigate. Might just been one of those “retro” style things, false nostalgia for something that never was. Didn’t get chance to investigate, younger families are such melting pots of who is doing what to whom, and I can’t keep track. “We have a kid and a house payment, but no, not ready to get married yet — that’s so permanent.” Kids and house payments sound kind of permanent to me, but that could be me. All of this from a T-Shirt, but thinking it all the way through, part of this week’s special Taurus message. Think it all the way through. Saturn means long-term thought process.
One of the best experiences I’ve had, watching an amateur Shakespeare production? It was a tragedy. All the players — main actors — they all wind up dead in the end. I’ve studied the plays. I’ve listened to the plays, over and over; I know why is going to happen before the first induction is orated. The title starts with “The Tragedy...” Yeah, I know what’s going to happen. Final act, all dead. Sad. So very sad. But that amateur play was well-rehearsed, well-versed, and well-executed. The final scene caught me by surprise. That’s some good acting. I was thinking about that particular performance, the kid who played the main role, and running into him later. I could not stop with effusive compliments. Someone coached the language properly, and the over-wrought emotions, histrionics, the way it all played out? Like I suggested, I knew what was going to happen and still I was swept up in the moment of the production, and like it was supposed to? It caught me by surprise, and I shed a tear. I know the plot. I know the story. It’s Shakespeare, I even know the play’s original source. Still caught me by surprise. As a Gemini, this next week, you already know how some of this is going to turn out, and yet, like me, you’re still caught by surprise at the conclusion.
Anytime some mentions, “Starter fluid,” or, “lighter fluid,” I think about a certain scenario. It was a buddy, not named Bubba, trying to ignite wood for coals. The process, predictable enough, involved a small flame upon which he dumped about a quart of highly flammable “ignition fuel,” some kind of branded petroleum-based fuel. As expected, he temporarily lost eyebrows. To suggest to one of my more stubborn friends that his approach wasn’t the most correct? Not a fight I want to start. Fire yes, argument about how to do it? No. Short of burning down his own home, or, in that one example, setting fire to a trailer park that might have less reputable characters dwelling therein? Other than that, yeah, no. As a tentative, sensitive Moon Child, the relative planet positions are about how you choose to give directions. Me? I stand off to one side, when he grabs that can of combustible fluid, and I stay back. I can suggest it’s not a good idea, and Cancer can suggest it might not be a good idea, playing with fire, but actual intervention? Not our thing, not this week.
Ever heard of the “Monty Hall Statistical Riddle?” It’s a real thing, you know, and Monty Hall was the “host” of a short-run, daytime TV program called, “Let’s Make a Deal,” and the riddle is one where, there’s three choices. Choose 1, then number 3 is revealed, and the player has the option to change the change his or her selection to 2, or stay with 1. The choices are the problem and there’s statistical analysis, it’s really a thing, you know, look it up on those inter-webs, and the outcome is affected by the secondary choice. If you change the first choice, #1, then the results are usually dramatically underwhelming. Sticking with that first decision is usually the correct answer, but the bait and possible switch is what makes the game appealing. Alluring, too. Which is part of the problem, and there’s real conundrum when faced with three choices, The Leo picks Number 1, then Number 3 is revealed, and do we switch from 1 to 2? Or stick with the original decision? The answer, for The Leo? This week? As long as the Sun is in Capricorn, the best answer is to stick with that first decisions. Might be wrong, but I always thought they moved that stuff around, backstage.
It was a cold, clear winter’s day. I was standing in a park, north of town, out past the suburbs, and there was a new playground. Took my buddy’s kids there, help out for an afternoon, as I’m more dependable than family. Pile the kids in a truck, let them loose at the park, the post-apocalyptic holiday energy running free and unrestrained for part of an afternoon. Standing there, I was far enough north of town to be in the Hill Country proper, for just a moment, the kids’ squeals were silent, a bug or something fascinated them on the ground, and for just a moment, it was nothing but the gentle susurration the light northerly breeze stirring the tops of the trees. For a single, quiet moment, it was sound I would think I hadn’t heard since childhood, hiking in the mountains of Northern New Mexico. While not totally true, the New Mexico mountains would’ve been cedar and pine, and the Hill County was mostly Live Oak. It flashes back to a portion of my upbringing getting dragged up and down the Louisiana Purchase Territories, fishing in the Rockies, endless days in a van with no AC, camping out along the way. All of that from the simple sound of wind in the tree tops. For Virgo, there’s a connection with “Where you’re from,” and that connection is about where we’re all going, in the next few weeks. But make sure you pause long enough to hear the wind in the tree tops, or whatever that anchor in your past might be. Pause and listen for it. “Put that down! Do not throw cow pies at your sister!”
It was a cold, clear winter’s day. I was standing in a park, north of town, out past the suburbs, and there was a new playground. Took my buddy’s kids there, help out for an afternoon, as I’m more dependable than family. Pile the kids in a truck, let them free at the park, the post-apocalyptic holiday energy running free and unrestrained for part of an afternoon. Standing there with other dads, one started chatting, comparing notes.
He was from a Chicago suburb, and as he rattled, I was guessing he was in sales, I had on jeans, boots, heavy winter shirts. He was wearing shorts, flip-flops, and a lightweight windbreaker. He claimed that out of his graduating class, some of the guys were in the Dallas area, a half-dozen were in the San Antonio area, and a few wound up in Austin. The numbers were something like 40% of his high school, Chicago area, were now in Texas. It was cold enough, that afternoon, I had on boots and jeans; and he was dressed in a more beach-like attire.
This is about roots, where you’re at — Libra — and how we adjust to current conditions. For him, born and raised along the shores of lake that regularly freezes? Sure, that was fine attire. For native Texan like me? I needed more. All depends on where you’re at. And, Libra? Dress for your own comfort.
One of the main reasons I complied a book about Mercury in Retrograde was I got tired of repeating the message, over and over. While the book is a little thin with its current content, almost out-of-date, the substance remains viable. There are two messages for Scorpio’s weeks ahead, one of the messages is about checking out what I’ve written about approaching Mercury in Retrograde type of energies, and the second concept? When I’m faced with a certain type of of message, after I repeat it — verbally — three times? Then it’s time to write that up and post it someplace so I can paste it as need be rather bore myself by repeating the same words, over and over. So take a lesson, or two, from me, as this new year unfolds, fraught with delightful possibilities for Scorpio, remember my example, wherein I’m making a suggestion based upon what I’ve already done, so I could be seen as leading you: 1) check out the text of the Portable Mercury Retrograde — astrofish.net/books — and 2) when you find yourself repeating the same message, over and over? Turn that into a set-piece and broadcast it.
The essential Sagittarius conundrum for this week’s branch of weirdness? How much can you fit in a carry-on bag? There’s a certain kind of self-imposed discipline required. A certain type of ability and some of the Sagittarius have this more than others. While I’m so not a “prepper,” per se, I do have a go-bag constantly packed. Chargers, cables, pen, paper, reading glasses, tarot cards, all the stuff i usually carry. Just in case. So the way to answer this week’s halcyon call, the questions and questionable energies floating free? What can you pack in a simple carry-on and be happy? Quick, what are the essentials for happiness? currently, I need a book to read, maybe two, then a notebook to write stuff in, and then, something to write with, and most of this I can do on a phone or tablet, so one of those, too, plus, cables, and bag to carry it all. What is the minimum we need to for a quick get-away and to be happy? Minimum. Has to fit in a carry-on. Reminds me of this one couple, claimed to travelled the world with only carry-on gear.