TAURUS APR 20 — MAY 20
Being able to feed yourself is an important life-skill, Taurus. And by “feed yourself” I don’t mean “microwave a burrito.” I’m talking about the honest pleasures of cooking a meal, for yourself and for friends. When’s the last time you had a dinner party? Have one soon, and good things will happen.

GEMINI MAY 21 — JUNE 20
Jai alai continues to be my preferred metaphor for modern existence: it’s fast, only right-handed players can do it, and it uses a tiny hard ball. I really don’t have to spell that all out, do I, Gemini? Good. Take those analogs for what they are, and use those lessons in your life. Jai! Alai!

CANCER JUNE 21 — JULY 22
You can smell the snow on the wind—like metal that’s been kept in the freezer… reminds me of home. You know, Cancer, I actually miss shoveling snow: the scrape of the shovel on the driveway, removing layers of clothing as you get hot… Winter’s coming, so you’d better dry-clean your sweaters.

LEO JULY 23 — AUG 22
Buy your tickets now. Whether for a winter getaway, Rangers game, or simply “to ride,” you need to plan ahead, Leo. How many times has the thing you really wanted to do just slipped through your fingers, leaving you doing the thing you kind of want to do? That feeling sucks. Quit short-changing your funtimes.

VIRGO AUG 23 — SEP 22
Do you smell sorrel? I smell sorrel. I also smell pomegranate. Do you smell pomegranate? Is there a giant spike sticking out of my head? Why does everything look green? Virgo, if there was, in fact, a giant spike in my head interfering with my brain, would you tell me? WOULD YOU?

LIBRA SEP 23 — OCT 22
Where are all the honky tonks? The raucous saloons filled with loose women and men in hats? I’m asking you, Libra, because now that darkness has fallen across the land, we really need to make sure we have fun in loud, well-lit places, lest we become depressed and lose all hope. Time to party.

SCORPIO OCT 23 — NOV 21
I was sailing around the North Sea over the summer, a solo expedition in search of the mythical lundehund, a rare Scandinavian canid blessed with the gift of being able to gossip while still retaining respect among its peers. Nobody likes a gossip, Scorpio, so unless you’re a lundehund, you should ease up.

SAGITTARIUS NOV 22 — DEC 21
Have you been down lately? You seem down. Are you eating enough fruit? Your natural inclination at the moment is probably just to eat cheese and potatoes all night long, to fatten yourself up for winter. DO NOT DO THIS. It will make you sad and fat, and I don’t like you sad and fat, Sagittarius.

CAPRICORN DEC 22 — JAN 19
Where I come from, there is no Thanksgiving in November. As such, with no holiday to look forward to, it really is one of the saddest months: the darkness is oppressive, the weather is cold and painful, without the mitigation of pretty snow… I’m glad I came to America, Capricorn. I do not hate your freedoms!

AQUARIUS JAN 20 — FEB 18
Don’t give up, Aquarius. As the poet says, it is always darkest before dawn. And, I guess it can’t get much darker than this, right? So you should probably start getting ready for the great dawning! Oh what fun we’ll have, making pancakes, staring at the sun! Dawn! Dawn! The dawn is beautiful.

PISCES FEB 19 — MAR 20
My dog Lance was struck by lightning. He’s ok, but it blew him 25 feet—luckily he landed in a cab pick-up truck carrying old jean jackets. The weird thing is that I had to follow that pick-up clear across the state of New York before I could get Lance back. All of which is to say, Pisces, cherish what you have.

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TAURUS APR 20 — MAY 20
You might think it a noble quality, Taurus, doing what you’re told, but frankly, it doesn’t become you. What happened to the fierce, independent firebrand, the tireless tyro who used to set fire to the night to burn down the day? You were a hero… But all is not lost, some things can be reborn: it starts with growing your hair out.

GEMINI MAY 21 — JUNE 20
Sometimes we forget things, Gemini. We leave them on the bus or in the zoo or beside the big weird dude at the campfire who smells like a cross between maple butter and deep, retrenched loss. Once we forget these things, let them leave our orbit, we can’t always get them back. This is one of life’s chief lessons.

CANCER JUNE 21 — JULY 22
Life is like an old computer: always at risk of crashing, memory getting used up, there’re a lot of unwanted memories files kicking around on the hardrive, and the A key is sticky. Not sure what the A key being stuck has to do with it, but I’m sure it’s something important. Oh yeah, Cancer, DON’T ADULTERATE.

LEO JULY 23 — AUG 22
From now on, you may address me as the Lord High Star Peeper, a distinguished title given to only 800 astrologers a year. This means three things: discounts at the annual conference, ten percent off books at Futures ‘R Us, the right to interfere with someone’s future. With that last in mind, Leo, DON’T TAKE THE BUS TODAY.

VIRGO AUG 23 — SEP 22
Questions. So many questions. And people don’t care about the answers, they just want to hear their own voices and feel as if they’ve said their piece. Bah. Do you ever truly despair for the future of the human race, Virgo? Don’t feel too guilty if you do, because sometimes it doesn’t look good, does it? Oh well, keep trying.

LIBRA SEP 23 — OCT 22
I knew a man with a fear of drowning. I knew a woman with a fear of drying up in the desert. I introduced them and it was a success. Their phobias cancelled out. But then I tried it with fear of crowds and fear of solitude and they almost killed each other. The world is smarter than our formulas, Libra, don’t forget that.

SCORPIO OCT 23 — NOV 21
You talk about keeping the rabble at bay, of building an enormous wall to separate yourself from the great hordes that beset the world with coarse demands and INAPPROPRIATE BEHAVIOR. Well, Scorpio, what if it’s the hordes that want nothing to do with you? Huh? Ever thought of that? Maybe you’re just boring.

SAGITTARIUS NOV 22 — DEC 21
I knew a man who stayed in bed for a year. He had a fridge, a hot plate, a bed pan, and plenty of books. He wasn’t fat. He wasn’t depressed. He was independently wealthy. He would do yoga under the covers and prank call the library. He was living his dream, Sagittarius, and didn’t care what anyone thought. This is a virtue.

CAPRICORN DEC 22 — JAN 19
One man’s vandalism is another’s art. One woman’s wit is another’s cruelty. One boy’s game is another’s religion. One girl’s triumph is another’s defeat. One astrologer’s attempt at profundity is another’s automatic writing project. Capricorn, there are two ways of seeing every situation. Make sure you see both.

AQUARIUS JAN 20 — FEB 18
I followed a firefly into to the night. I followed it into the woods and was surrounded by blackness, only the tips of my fingers visible as I reached out to touch it. And then it all went dark. The firefly was gone. I was lost. I’m still there, Aquarius, in the dark, waiting, waiting for help. WOULD IT KILL YOU TO CALL ME BACK?

PISCES FEB 19 — MAR 20
There are moments in life—small, easily isolated—that change everything. It could be the most casual of off-handed answers to the simplest of questions, and all of a sudden you find your existence unraveling, pulling apart in a thousand different ways. It sucks when that happens, Pisces. But you can’t prevent it.]]> [ Subscribe to the comments on this story ]

TAURUS MAY 21 — JUNE 20
My German is rusty, but I’m pretty sure that dude just told you to “shut up and sit down.” Are you going to take that shit, Taurus? From a little German man? Because seriously, haven’t you taken enough abuse in the last few weeks, from the chickpea stew incident to the federal indictment? When are you going to stand up for yourself? Now. Now is when you take back some dignity.

GEMINI JUNE 21 — JULY 22
The dodo gets a really bad rap as a stupid animal, to which I say, “C’mon people, can’t we just leave the extinct alone, and let them rest in peace?” And really, lying on the beach all day eating shell fish and cold relaxin’ in the tropics seems like a pretty cool existence, sort of the opposite of dumb. Do you feel like you don’t get enough credit, Gemini? Well, stop making it look so easy, then.

CANCER JUNE 21 — JULY 22
It’s going to get cold, soon, Cancer, so you’d better get ready to wrap your toes up real tight. I once knew a man in Moose Factory, Ontario, who forgot to wrap his toes up one cold November night and he lost them all to frostbite. The cool thing was that he had his feet replaced with ice skates, and now he’s the leading scorer in the Tundra League. Moral? Keep your stick on the ice.

LEO JUNE 21 — JULY 22
We’ll try. We’ll try really hard. We’ll try really hard and we’ll probably succeed for a while. And then the lights will go down. You’ll pull a flashlight out of your knapsack but you’ll drop it and it will roll along between the desks creating a weird flickering light across the far blackboard. Why are we breaking into your old school, Leo? And why am I in your dream?

VIRGO JUNE 21 — JULY 22
The heart is a complicated organ. There are tubes and conduits that pump blood and water and wine and tea and heavy cream all through the body. Sometimes, if the wine and cream get mixed up, you’ll remember something you’d long ago forgotten, and you’ll stop right there in the street and you’ll stare at that thing in your mind’s eye until it’s all you can see. Don’t stare too long, Virgo.

LIBRA JUNE 21 — JULY 22
A “loss leader” in the restaurant business is something you serve to entice people, without worrying about making a profit. Like free coffee, or moose pie. I think you could use a “loss leader” of your own, Libra, something you could just sort of throw out there with little expense, like a new beret or a fake Australian accent. Once you attract attention, then you can use your charm.

SCORPIO JUNE 21 — JULY 22
You should take up rock climbing. That is my astrological advice to you, Scorpio. Normally I try to keep things suitably mysterious over here at stargaze corner, but I’m getting such a clear sense of you on one of those indoor walls with all the ropes, having the time of your life, that I have no choice. If you start rock climbing, I will guarantee that you will be a happier person.

SAGITTARIUS JUNE 21 — JULY 22
Not even lions would scare me away from the kind of opportunity that will soon present itself to you, Sagittarius. Not even giant, armor-plated, remote-controlled lions with lasers for eyes and missiles for teeth. You see, there’s something wonderful waiting for you just around the corner, but you’re going to have to be brave, because really, there will be lions waiting to pounce.

CAPRICORN JUNE 21 — JULY 22
Sitting in the dark with a slice of cold pizza and a banjo is just about my favorite thing to do. Munching on solidified mozzarella, pickin’ out great old tunes from the Blue Ridge Mountains, taking sips from the bottle… But the darkness is the best part: it’s like a gentle coat filled with special warm hot cross buns that will never let you feel sad or cold or lonely. Turn out the light, Capricorn.

AQUARIUS JUNE 21 — JULY 22
You are a peach, Aquarius. A delightful (if not a little messy) piece of sweet fruit that’s up for just about anything. You can be eaten straight from the farmstand on a sunny summer day, chopped up and preserved for cold winter afternoons, or made into a delicious cobbler for those special dinners where the top-shelf Zinfandel gets passed around. You’ll always be a peach.

PISCES JUNE 21 — JULY 22
Live fast or die old? Well, not exactly, Pisces. Take old Bill Burroughs for example. That sonofabitch lived to be 83 years old, after a lifetime of extreme fast living and totally irresponsible stewardship of his own body. And then you have people like, oh I dunno, some healthy dude, who just walks outside one day and gets hit by a milk truck. The universe is capricious, but offers much pleasure.]]> [ Subscribe to the comments on this story ]

We are all soldiers of fortune. We are fighting a war against the end of our lives. Our weapons are self-delusion, courage, humor, anger and resignation. We must be careful about which weapons we choose to fight with. There are times when the weapons become who we are, when we lose control of their power. Do not let this happen, Aries, for it will break your heart.

TAURUS  APR 20-MAY 20
Forgiveness can be tough to ask for. At its heart lies the need to confess, to admit how wrong you were. In dire situations, Taurus, when forgivness is vital, the guilty party may be forced to itemize all the stupid things they've done, and that can't be easy. But as an act, forgiveness has a real power: two people, going together back into the past to address a wrong. That strong magic.

GEMINI   MAY 21-JUNE 20
“Count them again!” said the voice, loud and angry against the quiet fall night. “Aw c’mon, we’ve already been through this a hundred times!” said another voice, plaintive and shrill. “Please, just once more,” said the first voice, conciliatory. “Oh all right: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9… that’s it.” And that, dear Gemini, was the night Joey the 9-Fingered Clown was born.

CANCER   JUNE 21-JULY 22
Some mistakes just keep looking worse and worse the further you get from them: I’m talking mind-bogglingly, “what the hell were you thinking” dumb. And that’s what happened in this case, Cancer, absolute stupidity. It’s all too easy to convince yourself of a certain feeling if you try hard enough—but c’mon, let’s be honest here, none of that was real. It was fake.

LEO   JULY 23-AUG 22
Despite what they all say, love is a rare and special thing. It should be guarded zealously, preserved at all costs, fought over and rescued, no matter the cost; you need to think really hard, Leo, before you do anything to jeopardize it. You see, it’s all too easy to take love for granted, to assume it’ll just be there for you at the end of the day, like a favorite pair of slippers. Because it won’t.

VIRGO   AUG 23-SEP 22
You can hear some unusually true things if you just pay attention to the voice of the crowd. This is not an easy thing to do, Virgo, but it will yield magnificent results if you can perfect your technique. Start like this: go to a place with lots of people; find a spot to sit or lean or stand unobtrusively; open up your ears, shut your eyes and let the words seep in. The world is trying to tell you something.

LIBRA   SEP 23-OCT 22
Michael Caine tried to Blame it on Rio, when he should have just blamed himself. The world is full of temptation and invitation to indiscretion; we’re all confronted at one time or another with the occasion for sin… THAT DOESN’T MEAN WE HAVE TO GIVE IN. Look, Libra, life can wear you down to a point of real self-pity, where you feel justified in self-indulgent. Well snap out of it.

SCORPIO   OCT 23-NOV 21
The overheard answering machine message is just about dead as a feasible plot device in your mainstream mystery-thriller-comedy. As much as I’ve always loved the big reveal playing back after the beep, Hollywood has to come up with something new… but what? Failure to log-off Gmail? Twitter hack? Will any one thing come to the fore? Sigh. Why must everything change, Scorpio?

SAGITTARIUS   NOV 22- DEC 21
Mark my words, Sagittarius, roller derby is about to sweep the nation. Where once we idolized giant football players we will instead idolize speedy little redheaded women with tattoos like sailors who listen to Sleater-Kinney and eat soy cheese—this will be a truly glorious day. The best way to prepare for this would be to go see some live roller derby. So that’s what you should do. NOW.

CAPRICORN   DEC 22-JAN 19
Be careful when digging around your brother’s closet—you never know what you might find: Is that a cardigan with short sleeves? A waterproof waistcoat? A Winchester repeating rifle? What the hell kind of shit is your brother into? And anyway, are you sure you’re not adopted? Look Capricorn, you gotta know where you come from before you can know where you’re going.

AQUARIUS   JAN 20-FEB 18
I always said I wouldn’t do you wrong, Aquarius, so I’m sorry I messed things up. You might have a hard time believing it, but it’s really still kind of true. I think, given the right amount of time and a break in the bad weather, I might be able to prove to you once again that it’s a true sentiment. Failing that, I’m prepared to bribe you with an ongoing campaign of gifts and back rubs.

PISCES   FEB 20-MAR 20
I should’ve been a physicist. There is something deeply appealing about engaging with fixed physical laws rather than the necessarily fluid strictures of human behavior. But as I looked into it more, I came to understand that even physics is open to vast mystery, that the universe is as seemingly unknowable as the heart of Man. And you know what, Pisces? I was kind of relieved by that.]]> [ Subscribe to the comments on this story ]