Aries Mar 21-Apr 19
You can't really do stupid things nowadays, Aries, and expect to get away with them. Everything is on film, all the time. For instance, I started out writing this horoscope in nothing but a giant, custom-made baby bib, but then realized internet images of that might discredit my reputation. So I put on my Bieber pants. Be smart out there.

Taurus Apr 20-May 20
What's your beef, Taurus? Do you hate it when people ask you what your beef is? Is that, in fact, your beef? Or is it when people ask, "Where's the beef?," like that little old lady from the olden days? My beef, as a vegetarian, is beef. Man, what a weird word to keep 
saying:"beef." Beefbeefbeefbeefbeef.

Gemini May 21-June 20
Are you familiar with the expression "correlation doesn't equal causation"? It's important. For example, you dropped a bowl of milk duds on the floor last night during The Antiques Roadshow and it started to hail. Coincidence? Yes. You are not the center of the universe, Gemini. In fact, you're incredibly insignificant. Sorry.


Cancer June 21-July 22
Being able to ride a horse and shoot a gun will be valuable commodities when the Apocalypse comes. Also, field-dressing a deer, building a wigwam, starting a fire, and turning a yew sapling into a bow. Can you do any of these things, Cancer? What will you do when the Fresh Direct trucks stop coming?

Leo July 23-Aug 22
I found it odd that you felt the need to go into 40 days of mourning upon the untimely death of Knut the German Polar Bear. You didn't know Knut, Leo—c'mon, you've never even been to Berlin. What is missing from your life that you feel the need to express emotion at such a great and vicarious distance? Meaning. Oh, yeah. Meaning.

Virgo Aug 23-Sep 22
Some days I like to play quoits, some days I like to play whist. That's just how I roll, Virgo, with a pretentious fixation on antique pastimes. We can't help the things we love, dude, we really can't. The worst thing is trying to suppress what makes you really happy, so you should stop doing that before you kill your neighbor.


Libra Sept 23-Oct 22
I once knew a lutist named Christopher. If you ever called him Chris he'd freak out and hum Pachabel's fucking Canon until your ears bled. If you knew him, you'd only ever make that mistake once. My point, here, Libra, is that if something's bothering you, you have the power to make it stop. So just do it.

Scorpio Oct 23-Nov 21
It would seem the Mayans were on to something, Scorpio. As it turns out, the summer of 2012 looks like it will feature the most intense solar storm activity in centuries. The Sun's electromagnetic freakout is going to mess our shit up: we're talking solar flares taller than 40 Earths stacked one atop the other. Chaos, dude.

Sagittarius Nov 22 -Dec 21
My great grandfather Jurgo always said it snows at least once after St. Patrick's Day. And damn him for being right. This crazy old town will crush your spirit with its crazy weather: halter tops and tube pants one day, mukluks and snow goggles the next… It will crush your soul, Sagittarius, and then pee on it. If you let it…

Capricorn Dec 22-Jan 19
You know what would suck? Getting turned into a deer and having your own pack of hunting dogs chase you down and eat you. Granted, that's not very likely, insofar as I highly doubt you have your own pack of hunting dogs, Capricorn. If you did, would you even be reading this magazine? Man, what's it like to be rich?

Aquarius Jan 20 -Feb 18
It's very dangerous to have rooftop barbeque parties with homemade absinthe. Trust me. It all starts with delicately marinated bell peppers and next thing you know someone wants to try walking on coals and the whole building goes up in flames. Moderation and decorum, Aquarius, are the keys to the good life.

Pisces Feb 19 -Mar 20 If I see one more adult on a fucking push-scooter I'm going to step into them with my shoulder and knock them into next Tuesday. Why is it so hard to grow up, people? Is it fear of death? Acting like a tween in your early thirties is not going to forestall your inevitable physical collapse. Your organs are dying even as I type this, Pisces; deal with it.

Pisces Feb 19 -Mar 20
This is it, Pisces. The world, in all its marvelous, frustrating, terrifying vastness is here for you to see. It's a big place, so I'd recommend you get started pretty soon, because really, how much time do any of us have? Take a boat, take a plane, take a bike, ride a camel… Whatever you do, just get going.

Aries Mar 21-Apr 19
Take it to the dance floor, Aries. Put down that shiv and let your aggression flow from you in so much stylized "movement" violence. Trade in your leather jacket and dungarees for a freshly washed unitard and let the music fill you. Only then will you be happy.

Taurus Apr 20-May 20
Pretty thin gruel, Taurus. Honestly, I know you've put everything into it, all your heart and soul, but sometimes you just have to walk away from a project. It's a harsh lesson the world teaches us, but one we'd best learn quickly: just because you try hard, and want it bad, doesn't mean it'll happen for you.

Gemini May 21-June 20
Stone Temple Pilots are no longer elegant bachelors. Hammer time has ended. Madonna looks like Iron Maiden's Eddie. If you even know what I'm talking about, Gemini, it means you, too, are getting older. I'm sorry. It happens, the body revolts, things end. All the Care Bears are dead.

Cancer June 21-July 22
I dreamed I was floating along in a big iron ball, staring out the riveted portals at the storm-tossed sea as the Lumiére Brothers followed my progress in a dirigible made from profiteroles. It was a bad dream, Cancer, and I sensed you watching from just beyond my vision. Why are you stalking me?

Leo July 23-Aug 22
So apparently Smith Street is in Gowanus? Crazy right? I always thought of it as Carroll Gardens/Cobble Hill, but nope… You see, Leo, you can live for a long time with stupid assumptions that don't actually affect your day-to-day life. So, you know, carry on being dumb, I guess.

Virgo Aug 23-Sep 22
Time to work it out, Virgo. You can't live in that tree house forever. One of these days you're going to have to come down and out of the backyard to face your accusers. Or can you live in that tree house forever? It worked for the Baron in the Trees! So yeah, nevermind… try it!

Libra Sept 23-Oct 22
Is it weird for a thirtysomething male to be exhibiting all the signs of menopause? Because I just watched The Bridges of Madison County and I'm just crying a river here (but also horny, so...). Is something wrong with me, Libra? Is it a crime to find pantsuits both comfortable and elegant? I AM MURPHY BROWN.

Scorpio Oct 23-Nov 21
Extreme sleep deprivation has occasionally been used by mental health professionals to lift the severely depressed out of their suicidal ideation. Seriously, it works. Around hour 24 of wakefulness, the brain starts to release all these wonderful chemicals. I've been awake for 36 hours, Scorpio, and I'm not even thinking of killing myself!

Sagittarius Nov 22 -Dec 21
In a recent poll conducted in my house, it turns out that 65 percent of the furniture "strongly favors" my living there, while 45 percent of the cutlery "strongly opposes" my tendency to sit at the kitchen table eating astronaut food. But who believes polls, anyway, right Sagittarius? Even my cats think I'd make a good president.

Capricorn Dec 22-Jan 19
Fever is a beautiful word. It's a slow word, not too bright, but hot. It feels good coming across the lips. It's a password for strange dreams, a shibboleth for those who burn like Roman candles, a movie with John Travolta, Capricorn.

Aquarius Jan 20 -Feb 18
I think you're doing a great job, Aquarius. And I think you're going to continue to do a great job. One never knows how one will react to life and its cruel and unusual changes, but you're rising to the challenge like a real champ. And for that I salute you.

Pisces Feb 19-Mar 20
So! You're here! What do you want to do today? Stroll around the neighborhood? Sip warm drinks? Muck around with finger paints? The world is an unprecedented self-generating engine of sound and vision, Pisces, of activity and sensation—let's get cracking.

Aries Mar 21-Arp 19
A test pattern has to contain all visual information a TV set might conceivably be called upon to represent; over the decades, technicians have fulfilled these evolving but stringent requirements in wildly divergent ways, producing 8-bit mandalas and credible Barnett Newman knock-offs. Life is like that, too, I guess? You tell me, Aries.

Taurus Apr 20-May 20
Helping other people be better at liking something is a skill often overlooked in this diffuse, solipsistic century, but don't think all those mixtapes and personalized recommendations have gone unnoticed. You're going to make a helluva librarian someday, Taurus, and not just because you look mad foxy in glasses.

Gemini May 21-June 20
Seeing your father naked is weird, isn't it? Like the mysteries of adulthood are rendered suddenly banal and even slightly silly? Like someone's just dropped an appallingly casual reference to the unknown disappointments lurking in your own future? Towels, Gemini. Just... towels.

Cancer June 21-July 22
Self-doubt is natural, self-doubt is good; not everybody doubts themselves, but everybody should. Self-doubt is natural, self-doubt is fun; self-doubt is best, Cancer, when it's free of self-pity, and undertaken with the goal of active self-betterment.

Leo July 23-Aug 22
In the 90s, before I switched to writing horoscopes in English, I published some cosmograms adapted from Cocteau Twins songs. We subsequently collaborated on several horoscopes; Cocteau completists still run my old Angelfire site through Google Translate, trying to find them. There's a lesson here, Leo, about the proper maintenance of one's discography.

Virgo Aug 23-Sep 22
Virgo, as digital photographic technologies offer ever higher definition and ever more lifelike resolution, do you ever worry that we're being carried towards an acontextual eternal present, in which all memories are stripped of texture and its potential for emotional friction? Mama, don't take my Kodachrome away—oh, wait, you already did. Fuck.

Libra Sept 23-Oct 22
The enemy is everywhere—perhaps even your co-workers or Twitter followers are infiltrators, harboring secret plans to subvert all that you hold dear: free speech, free enterprise, free salad and breadsticks, the band Free, former NBA all-star World B. Free, &c. Whom can you trust, Libra?

Scorpio Oct 23-Nov 21
There's an app for that, Scorpio—and by "that," I mean boredom; mental stress and muscle tension; lack of confidence in social situations; the diamond-hard clarity of memory and the blinding dazzle of regret; or, conversely, the weightless void of present happiness. And by "an app," I mean "drinking."

Sagittarius Nov 22 -Dec 21
We could send letters, Sagittarius—effusive, intimate, devastatingly witty letters, our anecdotes, judgments and asides spilling from our pens as easily as notes from a harpsichord. Alternately, we could dip our smartphones in sealing wax, and laugh merrily at the resultant Auto Correct blunders.

Capricorn Dec 22-Jan 19
I sometimes stand before my mirror and don a fedora, or leather football helmet, or Viking horns, and talk to myself in the voice of a film-noir narrator, or a prewar letterman, or an Old Norse pillager: playing dress-up helps me relocate my narrative thread. Try telling your own life story in the third person some time, Capricorn.

Aquarius Jan 20 -Feb 18
Sure, Franka Potente is a beautiful woman, Aquarius—but that doesn't mean you should get a 1:1.33 reproduction of her face tattooed on both your quadriceps. I mean, I'm as big a Princess and the Warrior fan as the next guy, but it just seems a bit... excessive, no? Why not sleep on it?