Taurus (April 20-May 20): As you enter final exam time, what other astrologer besides yours truly can rouse your inner teacher out of a deep sleep, ensuring that you'll get the help you'll need to receive a passing grade? And what other soul doctor has the know-how to boost your immune system with specially formulated subliminal suggestions? (Rehgual tseiloh eht, reksir tsehserf eht, revol tsetrams eht era uoy.) Finally, Taurus, what other psychic janitor reverently polishes your halo, dry-cleans your aura, and vacuums away the astral gunk that's gumming up your luck -- all for free?
Gemini (May 21-June 20): I predict that far more babies will be conceived in Green Bay, Wis., during the next few days than at any other time this year. That's because this is an off-week for the Packers football team, and thousands of fanatical fans will have to sublimate their Packermania into making love. I further predict that an amazingly high percentage of the pregnancies will involve a couple with at least one Gemini partner. That's because this is the most fertile time of the year for everyone born under the sign of the Twins, whether or not they love to watch beefy giants in green,
white, and gold uniforms commit legal violence.
Cancer (June 21-July 22): Did you ever drive by something a hundred times and never notice it -- only to have it jump out at you one day as if it had recently arrived on the landscape? I predict it'll be that kind of week for you, Cancer. On several occasions, you'll suddenly perceive objects, facts, and influences that have been invisible to you up until now. Sure it might give you a jolt to realize how blind you've been and how alert and insightful you've become. But in the long run you're gonna love it -- and probably profit from it, too.
Leo (July 23-Aug. 22): Scientists have finally confirmed what we all knew: You do indeed have a little voice in your head that warns you when you're about to do something dumb. It's called the anterior cingulate cortex, according to authorities at Carnegie Mellon University. If you're receptive to it, I'd like to add, it's as good as having a guardian angel. "Don't do it," it whispers when you're on the verge of locking your keys in your car. "Go back," it murmurs as you start to walk away from a huge though initially inconvenient opportunity. Are you catching the drift of this horoscope, Leo? The next seven days will be Honor Your Anterior Cingulate Cortex Week.
Virgo (Aug. 23-Sept. 22): My Web site has a feature called "Arguments With God," which invites people to ask my team of prayer warriors to convey their complaints directly to the Almighty. We're besieged with heart-rending requests. "Why can't I cultivate a vision of my life as a path instead of a battlefield?" mourned a Libra recently. We prayer warriors treat most pleas reverently, and do our best to reach God's ear. But we did get peeved with a Virgo man recently. "Could you tell the Big Dude," he said, "PLEASE make my cat poop in his box!" No doubt he was trying to be funny, but I thought as I read it, "Here's yet another Virgo who's not asking for what he truly needs the most."
Libra (Sept. 23-Oct. 22): As I turn my psychic vision in your direction, Libra, I'm getting an image of a newborn foal, still damp and dazed from the hard work of barging into the world. Damn! Now the rumpled little critter is struggling to stand, its wobbly stilt-legs collapsing again and again. "It's too early!" I want to shout at it. "Lie around for a while! Gather your strength!" And hallelujah -- now the baby horse seems to have come to the same conclusion; it's given up its premature scramble and has settled into a relaxed sprawl.
Scorpio (Oct. 23-Nov. 21): Time for our first annual pre-Christmas sale on oracles. We're trying to get an earlier jump on the competition than usual this year. Check out some of the hot predictions you can own now at our special sale price. Oracle No. 1: Are you in competition with God, or what? Let God do what she's supposed to do; attend to your own specialties. No. 2: Good medicine doesn't always feel good going down, but you can be sure that bad medicine will taste great. No. 3: Say anything, but don't say, "Everyone else does it." No. 4: Ouch! That felt good.
Sagittarius (Nov. 22-Dec. 21): For the next 10 days, Sagittarius, the whole world belongs to you: the trees, the clouds in the sky, and the sand on the beaches. You own everything, my dear sovereign -- the museums and the apple orchards and the Internet and the wild horses and the roads. Please take good care of everything, OK? Be the kind of enlightened monarch who treats your domain with reverent responsibility. And make sure you also enjoy the full measure of fun that comes with such mastery. Glide through life as if all of creation is yearning to honor and entertain you.
Capricorn (Dec. 22-Jan. 19): What most people call "power" is in fact a peculiarly phallic form of strength that emphasizes dominance, victory, and control. But there are alternatives to this model, as unappreciated as they might be. This week, for instance, you're awash in an abundance of what I call yonic power. (Yonic is derived from the word yoni, which in Hindu tradition refers to both the female genitalia and the cosmic feminine principle.) What are the best ways to wield this surging puissance? Ripen and refine your relationships, for one. Bring intelligent love to bear on any situation that is suffering from an excess of cold intellect or separative egotism. Fight blind competitiveness with awe-some beauty.
Aquarius (Jan. 20-Feb. 18): I flip through the radio dial, and little catches my ear. I paw through the daily newspapers, and no one's telling any tales about the world I live in. Ninety percent of all the films out there are no less demeaning to my spirit than TV, yet there's no book called Four Arguments for the Elimination of Movies. But enough about my cultural wasteland. How's your cultural wasteland doing, Aquarius? What images are nourishing your imagination? Which tunes are keeping you anchored in sacred time? What stories remind you of where you came from? Which information is so true that it helps you survive the flood of hallucinations the media constantly vomits forth? Write: Resurrection Therapy, Box 761, Petaluma, CA 94953.
Pisces (Feb. 19-March 20): Historically, four rites of passage have been considered life's most important turning points: birth, the initiation into adulthood, marriage, and death. The transition you're now negotiating, Pisces, isn't as monumental as the Big Four, but it's still pretty damn weighty. My advice to you? Acknowledge just how much you're being asked to mutate, and then give yourself an electrifying gift that'll inspire you to thrive on the other side of the threshold you're crossing.