“To bait fish withal—if it will feed nothing else, it will feed my revenge.”
Shylock in Shakespeare’s Merchant of Venice III.i.20
Horoscopes for 8-21-2022
Mars enters Gemini Aug. 20. Mercury enters Virgo Aug. 25. New Moon in Virgo, Aug. 27, 3:17 AM.
Mars “squares” the new Virgo moon. Venus is loping along in the sign that precedes the good Virgo. That I have a special affection for the August Virgo? Not really new information, but there’s a caution that accompanies my wishes for bountiful and plentiful new year, happy birthday and all? There’s an idea, and I’m gratefully lifting this from the halls and canons of literature, but there’s the sentiment, lurking along, that you can either be right, or you can be happy. While not totally how this breaks down, let’s start with that as an idea, and with the planets — where they are? Think about being happy rather than being right. One good Virgo will plainly tell me that, in order to be happy, she also has to be right. While, as generalization, that’s true? Certainly does apply in her case, at least, usually applies? But this next few days, Mars, Moon, Venus, and so on? Happy? Or right? I vote for happy, but then I’m not a Virgo, just a big fan.
A couple of years ago, there was a streaming series about child chess prodigy, a female in a historically male dominated setting. As the planets circle and cycle? The new Virgo moon, Mr. Mars in Gemini, and Mercury just slipping into Libra? I was thinking about imagery from that series.
The way the mental gymnastics occurred, how it translated to the screen? An inverted chess set on the ceiling, a fragmentary illusion, perhaps a hallucination? It’s the idea of being able to clearly see what pieces need to be moved where, and what has to happen to make this happen, and, like in the series, win. I want Libra to win. In order for that Libra success to have a space to occur? Need to plot and plan all the moves necessary, like that ceiling hallucination and images. Plot. Plan. Adjust as need be.
Purported holidays, madness, stupid people, and a fresh attempt at an old problem — welcome to the new Scorpio normal. This uncovers something new, different, and maybe better. However, I can’t see the universe just handing out a fresh start to Scorpio without there being some kind of a catch. A hitch, a moment when you’re going to pause, and wonder, “Is this really a new beginning?” I’d wonder, too. But it is a new start, and the way I prefer to approach this? New start to an existing problem. Fresh way of seeing what was a previously insurmountable obstacle. One of those purely Scorpio problems that has appeared, in the past, to have no solution what-so-ever. Nothing. No way out. The perspective comes from the time and distance from the perception of what that insurmountable obstacle might be, and what this week’s new Virgo moon unleashes is a subtle way to see possible solutions where there’s been nothing but problems.
One of the most difficult yet also most important life transition? It’s about taking what we know, what we’ve learned, what we’ve — true Sagittarius style — learned the hard way, all those life lessons? Take that body of knowledge and find practical application. Looking over my own life, it’s easy to see that I tend to favor “the hard way,” or a personal caption? “Denial and error.” Still, as Virgo starts, as the Sun creeps into the Tropical Zodiac Sign of Virgo, for our Sagittarius selves? This means practical application of whatever those lessons have been. What happened? “Mistakes were made.” What that means, motoring forward with the usual Sagittarius aplomb? “Well,” long pause, “we now know what doesn’t work.” Practical application of the fruits of our errors. It’s less of a typical Sagittarius preaching, and more of that application of years of errors that eventually lead to a better understanding. Virgo and Sagittarius, what works, what doesn’t work, and how we can move forward with our new knowledge.
Coincidental with the New Virgo Moon? There comes moments of pure, unadulterated Capricorn clarity. Great stuff, used in moderation. Most Capricorns I know brag in excess about their collective moderation. Two, no three tips for Capricorn success — 1. Moderation, everything in moderation. 2. Start that new project, stated goal, new direction, get it off its ass and started out the door. 3. Clarity. Use clear and concise language to describe that goal that new project, that suggested destination. Let’s review, in part? Moderation. In part, start that new thing. Clarity. Not too much, but get it started and be precise. Pretty simple.
I make a sincere effort to be self-sufficient. Towards that end, I travel with water bottles, snacks, batteries, cables, and cords. I tend to also carry, subject to current conditions, enough “tools” to make sure I can fix whatever it is that I need to fix. Anymore, that involves carrying a phone and a Triple-A card. Makes it simpler, for me. What I’m interested in doing, given the current conditions in Aquarius? All I’m interested in being able to do is affect a quick fix. In one situation, old girlfriend’s car? (She’s not that old.) Her car was relatively new, but the front skid plate came loose, and started to drag. I crawled up underneath the car, got a coat hanger from a fishing shirt, and I bent the wire into a serviceable holder, if only for a few miles. Temporary fix that worked just fine. Doesn’t permanently fix everything, but in a hurry? As effective as anything else. Made it through the weekend just fine, and the car dealership fixed it under warranty. I was their man of the hour, though, with that quick fix. Aquarius: it’s about a quick fix to help other signs limp forward.
After more than a half-dozen years working in Austin’s rock shop, and more than my entire career spent around the “crystal healers,” sure, I understand that some mineral specimens are imbued with a sense of power and energy. Some is anecdotal, some pure speculation, and some is intuitive. All sort of depends, situations, specimens, people. Amethyst heals the heart, citrine attracts business, and the list goes on. I’m not sure it’s really the case, but who knows? I’ve seen stranger things work. For gentle Pisces, there’s a sense that a talisman, a token, a souvenir, or just a sample? Might be magically infused rocks, might be herbs and spices, I don’t know, individually, what it is. Explore, experiment, and see what physical — or metaphysical — devices work best. Whatever that lucky charm might be? Use it. I’ve got a tiny crucifix allegedly blessed by a pope. And a tiny buddha, I’ll rub his belly, too.
This is fixable, you know. Yes, Aries, you can fix this. It’s always nice to encounter a situation that has an easy fix. Wait, did I suggest it was an easy Aries fix? Maybe the term “easy” needs a better definition. Maybe it’s not so much “easy,” as just “fixable.” You’ll take that, right? When I spun the charts around, and did my thing with the stars, what I kept getting was this was an Aries situation that was repairable. Fixable. Can be adjusted, patched, and made to run again, made to work, made to go. Made to go forward in a good, Aries fashion — but there’s always a catch. This “thing,” this “situation?” In order to fix it? Correct the errors, and make it all work? It takes change in mental attitude. It takes a shift in consciousness. It takes an awareness of the overall picture, and the place in the universe, and then, this starts to make more sense. The path is not always easiest, but as an Aries? Easy is overrated. You can do this; you got it.
It’s called “Bacon Jam.” Seen it before, usually a specialty house, but more than one little cafe offers it. It’s catchy, and as a novelty, sure, I’ll bet it’s good. However, owing to my location, sentiments, and breeding? I present to Taurus the next level of bacon jam, Jalapeño Bacon Jam. Fiery, hot, spicy, bacon-y goodness, and what’s missing? Cheese? Oh-oh, I got it, Cheetos. I started with a simple recipe for bacon jam as the notion to send Mars out of Taurus, but this quickly spun out of control. The trick for Taurus? Don’t keep loading up on ingredients. Stick to a single, simple novelty item, like bacon jam, no “Jalapeño Cool Ranch Bacon Jam,” or “Flaming Nacho Cheese Bacon Jam.” Stop at the first one. Recipes are on the site, someplace.
One bane of my professional existence? “Bad astrology.” I think of that as (insert sign here) followed with (generalized character trait), and couched in such a way that anyone would nod appreciatively, “That is so (me, her, him)!” Let’s save the vanities for other, more fixed signs. With Mr. Mars just entering and roasting Gemini? There’s a suggested that your copious Gemini selves will latch onto whatever it is, and then make the facts fit the situation. Big hammer, round peg, square hole? Mars makes right? Mars makes you want to force it, if it doesn’t fit, and if it doesn’t fit? Move on to whatever is next on that Gemini agenda. There is no need to hammer this home. “But I know I can make this work, if I just try harder.”
There’s a tricky balance point, and it’s not easy. Threading your Moon Child, Cancer route between hopeful dreamland, and harsh reality? At the coast, fishing, the other week? We stopped in shallow water, the outgoing tide was just starting to drain a small bay-like structure, and it was easy to see the reds running through there, chasing bait, and heading towards deeper, cooler water. Perfect place to fish, right? Close. We could see the inky outlines of the bigger fishing dashing through the bay’s mouth, but after a few minutes, we had no action. Tricky balance point, recall? All we did was move over about a dozen feet. Just pushed the boat over with a pole to one side of the cut. Pictures are on the web, we just tore them up, it was great fun. Small adjustment, perfect balance. Don’t be afraid to adjust as need be to find that balance point. Just a few feet to one side, all it took.
While it sounds a little extreme? Getting ready for the good fishing just up ahead? I dumped out my coastal tackle box, different from the lake gear, and then I sorted through the mess. Crap that accumulates over the summer, a few rusted hooks, a freshwater lure I toyed with — and it worked — a few weeks back. The freshwater lure was already rusted out. Tossed it. There were a couple of spools of odd fishing line, various weights. I looked at one, and there were maybe two or three loops around the spool, so not even enough line to make a leader, much less to replace line on a fishing reel. Tossed that spool. Gradually, I loaded that tackle bag back up, but only with the refreshed gear. Towards the end of this scope, there’s an excellent window for some coastal fishing. Next few days? Cleaning up. Cleaning out. Tossing out that which no longer serves our Royal Leo Selves.