Aries (March 21-April 19): Travis Bixby, a Northern California man born under the sign of the ram, has demonstrated once again why you Aries are the pioneers of the zodiac. On the belly of his wife, who's eight months pregnant, he's painted the likeness of the helmet worn by his favorite football team, the San Francisco 49ers. I mean, who else but an Aries could have possibly come up with an idea that radical and original? Of course it's also a totally trivial stunt, and a shameful waste of his pioneering instincts. I would like to admonish you to hold him up as your reverse role model in 1996. You can't afford to fritter away your talents for living on the edge.
Taurus (April 20-May 20): What do you most need to change about yourself in 1996? I'd say you should take your cue from the psychologist Abraham Maslow, who once said: "When the only tool you have is a hammer, you tend to treat everything as if it were a nail." In other words, Taurus, it's high time to add some versatile new implements to your bag of tricks -- starting with maybe a Swiss army knife and a skeleton key.
Gemini (May 21-June 20): Ready for some more fresh, hot metaphors for the new year? I predict that 1996 will be like losing your virginity all over again; like looking much better without makeup on than with; like waking up one morning to find yourself addicted to a brand-new God; like having the benefit of a tiny bell ringing softly every time you need to remember something really really important.
By the way, if I had to pick just one piece of advice for you to concentrate on in the first six months of 1996, it would be this: Start at the end and work back to the beginning.
Cancer (June 21-July 22): I fasted for 24 hours, donned my white silk pants and dragon kimono, and lit a gold candle at twilight on the night of the full moon. Gazing into the glowing abyss, I beseeched the planetary gods to send me a vision that would capture a hint of what 1996 will bring for you. Within moments my prayer was answered, as the following scene materialized in my mind's eye: One of your old allies was returning to you after many years' absence, singing and playing a moving rendition of "Amazing Grace" on a ukulele with only three strings.
Leo (July 23-Aug. 22): If I were going to visualize your life in 1996 as a fairy tale, this is what it'd be. Once upon a time you were taking a shortcut through an alley when a fairy appeared and announced, "I will grant you three wishy-washy wishes absolutely free; you need do nothing for me in return. But I will grant you three slam-bang, white-hot wishes if you will just do three little tasks for me." You asked the fairy what they were, and she replied, "The second task is that you must trick the devil into letting you shave his thick, hairy legs. The third task is that you must trick God into letting you trim his big, bushy beard." "And what's the first task," you asked impatiently. "The first task is this: You must believe that only by attempting the absurd can you achieve the impossible."
Virgo (Aug. 23-Sept. 22): One of my favorite poets and teachers was a triple Virgo who had to wash dishes for money until he was 47 years old. Though he eventually got to do more of what he loved to do full time, he never received all the recognition he deserved. Another one of my favorite poets and teachers was a double Virgo who published just three slim books before her death in her 50s. She was one of the least productive geniuses I've ever known. Their lives exemplify my belief that Virgos have to work harder to reach their potentials than any other sign. That's the bad news. The good news is that in 1996 you will have more cosmic help to detonate your untapped talents than you've ever had before.
Libra (Sept. 23-Oct. 22): All of us suffer from what psychologist Erik Erikson called "repetition compulsion." Unconsciously we keep re-creating the most wrenching dilemmas of our childhood in an obsessive attempt to solve them once and for all. Only trouble is, we usually end up acting exactly the way we did the first time around. An obvious example is the woman who finds herself slipping into a series of liaisons with men whose aloofness and unavailability resemble her father's relationship with her.
So why am I bringing this up? Simply as prologue to this announcement: 1996 will present your best chance ever to dismantle your own repetition compulsion.
Scorpio (Oct. 23-Nov. 21): Before I fell asleep two nights ago, I asked my dreams to show me a scene that depicted the saddest truth about your life in 1995. Right on cue, I had an itchy nightmare. In it, you were trying to read a ponderously dull book full of extremely useful information. It seemed to take you an hour to read two pages. By the time you got to the end of a crucial train of thought, you'd forgotten how it started.