Wednesday, September 17, 2008

Horoscope

Posted By on Wed, Sep 17, 2008 at 12:00 AM

ARIES MAR 21 — APR 19
I have been told two “secret beach” stories in my life, and I have reason to believe them both. One was the classic Thailand “train then bus then hike then swim to paradise” scenario, and the other involved blue sand on the south Saharan coast of Africa and avoiding men with guns. Will I get to them both before I die, Aries? No. The time to choose and commit is fast approaching…

TAURUS APR 20 — MAY 20
Enemies! There are enemies all around us! Beside us! Behind us! In the walls. I may seem a little paranoid, Taurus, but as we’ve all learned by now, fear is probably the chief motivating factor in 21st-century politics, so if you don’t mind, I’ll be using this strategy for the remainder of the election season. If you don’t smarten up and get your shit together, the terrorists will win.

GEMINI MAY 21 — JUNE 20
Good times ahead, Gemini. Straight-up, no strings attached. I’m telling you, dude, sometimes good things happen for no reason and there’s nothing you can do about it. Well, you could try accepting them with grace and quiet elegance, for a start. And you could try not to rub your good fortune in your coworkers’ faces. Hey, share the luck, buddy — it’s only right.

CANCER JUNE 21 — JULY 22
Stupid science has put an end to those glorious days when skulduggerist scholars would forge entire museum wings worth of false antiquities to advance their careers or sell on the black market. Now, it’s all like “carbon date” this and “verify” that. Next thing you know [Note to self: insert sign here, xoxo.], scientists are going to start calling into question my horoscopes!

LEO JULY 23 — AUG 22
There’s an awful lot of bicycle activism these days, and while that’s pretty cool and everything, why aren’t people advocating for what really makes sense? Yup, we should all go back to horses. First, they are pretty; second, they have cool names like “Trigger” or “Geoffrey” (crazy spelling, right?). Am I right? And another thing, Leo, what’s up with fire containment in space? Am I right!?

VIRGO AUG 23 — SEP 22
Look out! Here comes Hurricane Läps! Gosh, that has a real nice ring to it. Did you know I’ve never had a major storm use my name? It’s kind of sad for me. I met a house lemur once who was called Lappy, but that’s it. Most of the time, Virgo, we can take our individuated isolation as a point of pride, but just every now and then, wouldn’t it be nice to feel like part of a team?

LIBRA SEP 23 — OCT 22
Do you find it as depressing as I do that storage space is one of the largest growth industries of the last decade? And I use “industry” in a very loose way. What has happened here, Libra? Are we nothing more than a nation of Collyer brothers, doomed to suffocate amidst our own possessions, crushed under a mountain of useless bric-a-brac? Time for a fall purge, dude.

SCORPIO OCT 23 — NOV 21
Haha. Bad menu translations are one of the best things about traveling. Like when “pork” is translated as “pig flesh.” Yum! There’s also the one that read “all food servers wash hands after defecating.” Good to know. But Scorpio, does your life sometimes feel like a bad translation? As if your aspirations have been muddled and recast in the most ridiculous way? If so, you should sue.

SAGITTARIUS NOV 22 — DEC 21
Important life lesson: if you are roughing it and hitchhiking your way across country without any money for accommodation, you lay out your sleeping bag on a piece of cardboard away from the grass. You see, even though it’s soft and cushy, dossing on a lawn will lead to condensation from head to foot — which sucks. Are you really planning a trip like this, Sagittarius? That’s crazy.

CAPRICORN DEC 22 — JAN 19
So a cub reporter walks into a bar and asks the bartender, who is wearing an eye patch, for three different flavors of daquiri, and the bartender asks the cub reporter if he’s depressed, and the cub reporter says, “Holy shit, have you seen the world today? How can any sane man be happy?” The bartender shrugs, and mixes the drinks in silence. Dark times, Capricorn, dark times.

AQUARIUS JAN 20 — FEB 18
Don’t you wish sometimes you could jump on that ice floe and follow it all the way to magical happiness? Sure, ice floes are  cold and melty, but the drinks are always chilled. Wow, imagine that, Aquarius, a cocktail party on an iceberg! That’s exactly the kind of thing I think you could pull off. And don’t let the naysayers dissuade you — the world needs bizarre and useless projects.

PISCES FEB 19 — MAR 20
Where have all the good men gone? Are they in the hills, waiting? Are they in the clouds, having a misty tea party? Are they under the sea, tickling the feet of Sunday bathers? I don’t know, Pisces, I’d like to think there are some of them in each of us (ew?), but if we don’t act on what we believe, they will never reveal themselves and will just go on making PB and Js for space dolphins.

Wednesday, September 10, 2008

Horoscope

Posted By on Wed, Sep 10, 2008 at 12:00 AM

ARIES MAR 21 — APR 19
My Great Uncle Louie was a hell of a safecracker in his youth. They say he had fingertips so sensitive he could make out the conversation just by rubbing the phone cord — prodigious physical gifts. The early recognition of natural ability (and/or limitation) is the key to success, and though I realize you’re not 12, Aries, you need to figure out what you’re good at, and just do it.

TAURUS APR 20 — MAY 20
Sure, yeah, I like a good, bracing game of racquetball now and then, but that doesn’t make me ELITIST! It makes me a little sweaty, and my cheeks get all red… Why, Taurus, do we have to impugn the sporting recreation of others and assign it varying levels of class status? Are we so terrified of individuality that we have to depersonalize others by category? Good god yes. Windsurfer.

GEMINI MAY 21 — JUNE 20
Next time it rains, I want you to fold up a tiny little paper boat with a message of love and kindness on it and send it down the flowing gutter water. It may be destroyed, it may burst into flames, or it may end up in the hands of a sad child — you never know. There is nothing wrong, Gemini, with sending indiscriminate messages of happiness into the world. Just don’t tire yourself out.

CANCER JUNE 21 — JULY 22
Purchasing a nutcracker is a sure sign you are absolutely and irrevocably an adult. Have you ever even thought about it, Cancer? It’s ok if you have, you just need to resist a bit longer, sow your wild oats one last time, you know? You’re on the precipice of respectability and convention, so now’s not the time to relax. Try one thing this week that you never have before.

LEO JULY 23 — AUG 22
Dear god, is there no limit to which people will carry on doing something they are so manifestly bad at? Sure, you might have a good time at karaoke, and, hey! all the people are applauding you, wow, you’re a really good singer, or at least that’s what your mom says! But, Leo, please, this does not mean you should write seven crappy songs and record them. That’s just pollution.

VIRGO AUG 23 — SEP 22
They say those who say “I’m bored” are in fact the ones who are boring. But I say those who say that “the ones who say ‘I’m bored’ are in fact the ones who are boring” are in fact the ones who are deeply irritating, homily-spewing life-hacks who are too terrified to think below the surface lest they see the truth and hang themselves. Some days are better than others, eh, Virgo?

LIBRA SEP 23 — OCT 22
Did you have a treehouse growing up, Libra? A place you could run away to when life got big or mean? Was it high up in a walnut tree down at the end of Vollmer Street? Did you paint it yellow in the summer of 1987? Was there a copy of the Sports Illustrated with Larry Bird and Magic Johnson on the cover nailed to the lowest branch? If so, can I have my Millenium Falcon back?

SCORPIO OCT 23 — NOV 21
Oh how we are angry! Oh how we clench our fists into devastating balls of fury! Oh how we feed our rage with the very things we hate the most! Oh how we are tired of it all! Will we ever punch through? Or will we petrify in the molten lava of our own perpetual huffiness? Crikey, Scorpio, why must we (I) address you in the first-person plural? It is making us (me) very angry. 

SAGITTARIUS NOV 22 — DEC 21
For a brief moment in the summer of 1958, the Canadian parliament considered a clandestine invasion of the Upper Peninsula region of what we now think of as “Michigan.” The incursion onto American soil lasted an hour, at which point three linemen from the local high school team “menaced” the elite “Maple Guard” all the way back to Moosejaw. Never stop fighting, Sagittarius.

CAPRICORN DEC 22 — JAN 19
You know, some people are sick all the time. So that’s why they might be really irritable and easily confused. What I’m saying, Capricorn, is that chronic pain is a deeply invidious thing that sneaks into a person’s life, often without them even realizing it. And they get grumpier and more distant, fragile and reactionary. So, just keep that in mind. (I think my shoes are too tight.)

AQUARIUS JAN 20 — FEB 18
Crap. More dark than light. Cold, squinty wind. Election Day. Oh what horrors the Autumn brings. Have you invested in the sun lamp yet, Aquarius? Hey, when things seem bleak at the prospect of crummy weather, just remember that you’ll now be able to wear all kinds of cool sweaters. With patterns! And elbow patches! And images of neo-natal animals! That will be fun.

PISCES FEB 19 — MAR 20
I once dreamed of becoming a “noted illusionist” but all I ever achieved was occasionally being referred to as “crap, this guy will try to juggle if you pay attention to him for too long.” What happened to the wonder in the world, Pisces? The childlike love of magical-fantasy-fun? Did it leave when we turned 13 and tried hash for the first time? I’m beginning to think, yes, that’s when.

Wednesday, September 3, 2008

Horoscope

Posted By on Wed, Sep 3, 2008 at 12:00 AM

ARIES MAR 21 — APR 19
Red Rover was my favorite game when I was a lad in Lappland. Except we called it “Rott Roentgen.” Oh, that beautiful moment, breaking through the pale, clasped hands of my friends, the revelation of human frailty matched with the promise of renewal and warmth. Dear Aries, dear Aries, I call you over… run, Aries, run! Maybe you will break through, maybe not. Oh, but just to try… 

TAURUS APR 20 — MAY 20
Nature is beautiful. There’s nothing quite so breathtaking as cresting a hill and looking out on a perfect pastoral scene. But have you ever gotten really low down on the ground with all the dirt and life and death that surrounds us every second? It’s an ugly inviolate cycle of excression and decay. Sometimes, Taurus, it’s best to maintain a little distance — it allows your illusions to survive.

GEMINI MAY 21 — JUNE 20
A challenge for you, Gemini, for the fall season: Your mission is to find and wear one exciting article of clothing that your friends and family would be surprised by. You may feel silly, you may feel pretentious, but I think you’ve been traveling a little too long in the slow, comfortable lane. Men, think cravat, bolo or casual cumberbund. Ladies, try white gloves, cape or cigarette holder.

CANCER JUNE 21 — JULY 22
Grasslands or jungle? Corvair or Corvette? Ricardo Montalban or George Hamilton? While it is a superficial bit of parlor-room banter, I find a good game of This or That does wonders for the mood. You see, insofar was we face countless options each day, the mere act of choice can be paralyzing. Well, Cancer, when faced with Newman or Brando, you just have to choose.

LEO JULY 23 — AUG 22
Did you hear about the old hermit shut-in dude who obsessively covered the inside of his Westchester home with Venn Diagrams describing every single social dynamic he’d ever experienced? After Archie Spunt, 73, of Pleasantville, NY, died of natural causes, police found the aforementioned drawings alongside thousands of pounds of saltwater taffy. Get outside and get some air, Leo.

VIRGO AUG 23 — SEP 22
What does holiness mean to you, Virgo? Is it a certain kind of detached grace, an inner peace that can withstand the cacophonous assault of daily life? Or is it a refusal to bathe and/or pay for anything? (Seriously, would it kill you to dip into the collection plate to pay for even a portion of your coffee?) Now that God has left us, we’re really going to need to start praying.

LIBRA SEP 23 — OCT 22
One of my favorite items of furniture is a sturdily built chaise longue with a set of wheels attached to the back legs, allowing me to reposition myself to get the most sun at any given moment. This chair also served as temporary accommodation when my house fell three stories into a sinkhole. Life is filled with magical objects, Libra, we just have to take notice.

SCORPIO OCT 23 — NOV 21
What’s with these dudes walking around with no belts? I’m not talking about surfers or hillbillies, I mean regular joes in khakis, their shirts tucked in, their Topsiders buffed — except, without a belt!! I do not like it at all. It makes them look like cheap, molded action figures from South Asia or something. Scorpio, if you see something, say something. And wear a belt!

SAGITTARIUS NOV 22 — DEC 21
An entire summer spent sleeping under a corrugated tin roof will do wonders for your dream life. There’s something deeply meditative about the resonance of raindrops on metal. I’m not particularly “spiritual,” Sagittarius, but I believe that meditative practice, regardless of its connection to the metaphysical, is good for the noodle. So cross your legs, close your eyes and hum.

CAPRICORN DEC 22 — JAN 19
Side saddle isn’t just for girls anymore! Thanks to a revolutionary design involving computers and stuff it’s now totally possible to ride bicycles in true Victorian comfort — with your legs held firmly together, like how God intended! Oh Capricorn, I know you like to ride as fast as you can and take dangerous risks, but have you ever considered that slowing down might be a good thing?

AQUARIUS JAN 20 — FEB 18
Teenagers are so absolutely brimming with pure self: they are narcissistic performers of self-directed angst every moment of the day. It’s kind of magnificent to watch, like standing just a little too close to the bonfire when you have had too many Tequila Sunrises and your poncho catches fire. It’s worth the risk, though, isn’t it, Aquarius? Just to look so cool, by the fire…

PISCES FEB 19 — MAR 20
I knew a Bavarian ballerina named Julia who walked with a cane and once stole 50K from the Yakuza. She was living with a crazy line-cook from Kansas at the time and was trying to get the money together to come to America… The last I saw of her she was waving goodbye at the edge of the dock. It’s amazing, Pisces, in how many ways our lives could’ve turned out differently.

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