ARIES MAR 21 - APR 19 

This ain’t gonna’ last forever, Aries; I suppose you’ve heard that enough times in your life. But what would you do if it did? If it all lasted forever? And not in a Groundhog Day/Nietzsche eternal return kind of way, but as if this present life carried on into infinity. Would you put everything off until tomorrow? Or would you choose a series of disciplines in which to become expert?

TAURUS APR 20 - MAY 20

Gas prices through the roof. Disaster everywhere. War. Famine. Pestilence. When the world is one big Bosch painting and you’d rather be relaxing in a Matisse, where do you turn Taurus? Bourbon? TV? The pennydreadfuls? Me, I turn to the dictionary, for a little bibliomancy. Try it. Let the pages flip toward your destiny, and the word upon which you land, shall reveal all.

GEMNI MAY 21 - JUNE 20

Make it new. Make it sing. Admonishments tried and true. Do not shy away from their challenge. Gemini, put on your coveralls, tighten the cinch, and get down to the business of living. It’s really pretty good if you tell yourself that every day you will go into a new place or try something that you normally wouldn’t. But please, no firearms, and no accessing of your “inner spirit king.”

CANCER JUNE 21 - JULY 22

Communication is way overrated. It’s all a big scam. The chasm that exists between any given set of human animals is vast and inexhaustible. I really don’t have anything uplifting to offer you dear Cancer, except that it sure is fun to watch those flaming arrows of “hello” and “what are you thinking?” fizzle and flame out in the dark depths of misunderstanding. Rawhide!

LEO JULY 23 - AUG 22

Dancing, Leo, you need more of it in your life. Samba, foxtrot, headspin, whatever. Your ass needs to do more shakin’. I think it was Kierkegaard who once sang: “Free your mind, and the rest will follow.” What he really meant to say was, “If you shake your ass, s’all good.” So turn up the radio, put on the proper footwear and make like a real high stepper.

VIRGO AUG 23 - SEP 22

Rasberry-rum coolers just aren’t cool, Virgo. I don’t care if you can drink 23 of them and still comfortably pilot a pedal boat. What happened to you? You used to brandish the great shining sword of righteous purity on our asses, calling us on our bullshit and letting us know we were denying our dreams. Oh? Huh? You grew up and got a job? Ok, I understand.

LIBRA SEP 23 - OCT 22

Join a jam band. That’s right. Get up there and play the same useless bass line for three hours and feel like you really “touched” the audience. I’m not kidding Libra. You’ve become so consumed by trying to be cool, you’ve stopped having any fun. And yes, even the kind of fun that makes you look like an ass and has no value to humanity. (If you’re that Phish guy, disregard the preceding).

SCORPIO OCT 23 - NOV 21

Football season is almost here! I don’t care! This is one particular brand of pampered no-stakes tribalism that must be stopped. But it’s going to take a strong warrior to give battle to the hoards of chubby evildoers, and that strong warrior is you Scorpio. You may not think you’re tough enough for grand crusades, but I know you are. And yes, this applies to more than just football.

SAGITTARIUS NOV 22 - DEC 21

I recently discovered that, in fact, it only takes one to tango. I was alone in my salon, a little Astor Piazzola playing on the phonograph, and I started to think of your future Sagittarius. It is a sweeping, noble future, but not without brisk moments of unexpected pain; there is tension, but also resolution. Your future is a tango, and it makes me want to dance.

CAPRICORN DEC 22 - JAN 19

The lessons are over and the real world is here. And what do we soon learn in the real world? That all of our lessons have been meaningless. It is a sad truth of the wise that they refuse to reveal to us how little they know, that as we get older we know less, are buffeted by the uncertainties of a cruel external world. I hope you weren’t looking for a pep talk Capricorn.

AQUARIUS JAN 20 - FEB 18

When I read mopey horoscopes (like Capricorn’s, above) I realize I don’t listen to enough David Byrne these days; he used to really cheer me up. What used to get you out of a funk Aquarius? There are now whole chapters of your life that sit there closed and unread. Open them. Go back to specific seasons in certain years and reconstruct your life. You’ll be amazed at what you find.

PISCES FEB 19 - MAR 20

Are you a mountain Pisces? Or a tarn? Or perhaps an isthmus? What geographical entity best approximates your particular brand of kooky lovability? I think these days it’s been a lot closer to the salt flats than you’d care to admit. A little bit barren, a little bit arid. What are you going to do, to let the water flow down and release the flowers? Just don’t say yoga.