REAL ASTROLOGY For an Unreal World

Aries (March 21-April 19): If you were to sit down and enumerate the people you would trust with your life or with the lives of your loved ones, it would no doubt be a very small group. I'd like you to compile that list now, because one of the persons on it needs your help. Not in an urgent, desperate way. Maybe not even in a way that he or she would readily confess. Rather, this person needs slow, simmering, tender attention that only you can provide. Do you have the gutsy delicacy it'll take to serve as a vivid listener? And what if the gift that's asked of you is something you've never given before?

Taurus (April 20-May 20): There's nothing wrong with falling in love with people because of the wonderful things they do for you and how good they make you feel about yourself. But I also try to shower my adoration on certain gorgeous souls without any consideration for the ways they enhance my life. Not that I've pulled off this heroic feat very often. But when I do -- when I truly cherish someone unconditionally, utterly free of the need to subtly suck her energy -- I get very high. Think you might like to enjoy a liberation like this, Taurus? The stars say it's prime time to try.

Gemini (May 21-June 20): Some geologists speculate that if they could artificially induce a series of small earthquakes along a critical fault line, they might defuse the possibility of a seismic cataclysm. Please try this approach on your own personal fault line, Gemini. Compel your opposing tectonic plates to slip a little at a time so that the pressure doesn't keep building up and eventually explode in a sudden, massive jolt. It's your choice, my dear: a few gentle love pats or a mind-wobbling shock wave.

Cancer (June 21-July 22): One conclusion I've come to while observing the puritanical obsession with presidential blow jobs is that this world needs less tittering titillation and more actual sex. I therefore propose a new weeklong holiday, the Bacchanalia. During this celebration, work and business will be suspended so that all patriotic adults can explore their repressed curiosity with a host of frothy erotic experiments. There'll be a new Cabinet-level office, the Bureau of Fucking and Sucking, which will sponsor educational campaigns to help every citizen learn to honor the libido as a sacred gift from God. I wish we could stage the first-ever Bacchanalia this week, Cancerian: It'd coincide with the beginning of your lustiest time of year.

Leo (July 23-Aug. 22): My Leo buddy Gil is an experienced practitioner of the art of meditation. He doesn't use that term, though. It sounds too solemn, too pretentious. Getting down with God shouldn't always be an arduous exercise in austere emotions, after all; neither should clearing your mind of all the gunk that just naturally builds up. Gil approaches his communions with the Divine Mystery with rapturous anticipation. That's why he calls it "going to my happy place." Won't you please emulate my friend's approach, dear Leo? This is a perfect moment to get much better acquainted with your own happy place.

Virgo (Aug. 23-Sept. 22): Are you up for a game whose playing field is all over the place? Are you crazy enough and resourceful enough to stick with the game once you realize that the rules are constantly shifting? Would you still be interested in winning if you discovered that the prize was different than what you thought it was in the beginning? You shouldn't leap into the fray, Virgo, unless you can answer yes to all three questions.

Libra (Sept. 23-Oct. 22): In a recent Me!dea magazine, ad exec Bob Kuperman bragged that his company Chiat Day is successful because it's skilled in the art of "sustainable chaos." "There's enough change to create new ideas," he said, "but enough stability that you don't spin off into space." I'd like to recommend this practice to you now, Libra. As your imagination gushes with fresh, hot intuitions, it would be a shame to try to muffle it. At the same time, you probably can't afford to ride out every single torrent. Take your inspiration from Kuperman: "My job [is] to separate the good chaos from the bad chaos."

Scorpio (Oct. 23-Nov. 21): In many traditional cultures, a
crossroads is regarded as a site teeming with heavy mojo. Gods and spirits and dead souls hang out there, and it's pregnant with the feeling of transition -- sort of like the psychic space you now inhabit, Scorpio. In the old days, people used to pray and build shrines at these power spots. Do you dare draw inspiration from them? Go to a place where two paths intersect in the woods, or two lonely country roads, and leave an offering. It could be nothing more than a bowl filled with candy, flowers, and a card on which you've written a description of the transformation you want to pull off.

Sagittarius (Nov. 22-Dec. 21): Back when I was a rock star, our contracts required that our backstage spreads of food be gourmet vegetarian feasts. We would get royally pissed if we were served Ding Dongs or Fritos or Coca-Cola. On one occasion, a member of our entourage was so incensed at the lack of sensitivity shown us by a caterer that she hurled a stainless steel container of beef stroganoff down a stairway. I urge you to refrain from this kind of crabby perfectionism, Sagittarius. The reward you'll soon harvest may have a few details amiss, but in most respects it'll be fit for a queen (or a rock star). Don't let tiny flaws annoy you as you bask

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