Aries (March 21-April 19): Attention conspiracy buffs and UFO freaks and wannabe gossip columnists! Have your camcorders and notebooks ready at all times. Hidden agendas are about to be revealed. Juicy revelations will soon bubble up out of nowhere. Don't blink! Expect peeks at the man behind the curtain and the woman beneath the veil. Before this window of opportunity shuts down, you will have glimpsed 60 percent of what's been concealed -- enough to revamp at least 40 percent of your pet theories about how the world works.

Taurus (April 20-May 20): I foresee a slow-motion explosion of fresh nuance in the game of love. You could very well be ready to take an evolutionary leap in what turns you on. New erogenous zones may reveal themselves. You and your main squeeze will have the power to awaken prodigious emotions in each other. You'll have a deft instinct for experimentation, allowing you to chart a course deep into the frontiers of intimacy -- a place that'll be scary in all the healthiest ways. (P.S. Try using your voice to evoke strange and wonderful states in each other. Whisper and growl at the same time; sing while you moan; sigh as you kiss.)

Gemini (May 21-June 20): I recently had a serious disagreement with a friend. The fix we were in seemed intractable. Unable to concentrate on anything else, I decided to clean house. After a manic hour of scrubbing and straightening, I picked up the headphone of my pocket radio and worked on disentangling the snarled wires. Miraculously, my head began to clear. It was as if what I was doing with my hands was accomplishing a similar action in my brain circuits. By the time I'd finished the unscrambling, I knew exactly what I had to say to my friend to make things right again. This is the exact meditation I'd like to recommend to you, Gemini, as you confront your own mess. Find a gnarled mass of cords or wires, and undo it.

Cancer (June 21-July 22): Published in 1985, my book Images Are Dangerous has been out of print since my publisher failed to pay the rent on his warehouse and the landlord relocated the entire stock to the dump. Yet I just discovered today that my beloved creation is actually ranked on the best-seller list at the amazon.com Web site. (It's in 1,092,768th place.) I'm not sure what it means, but it's got to be a hopeful omen, right? And it happens to dovetail with my astrological hunch about the imminent fate of the Cancerian tribe. I believe that a beautiful thing you did some time ago is still sending ripples through the world, even though you may have thought its effects were nil. This week you'll get a vivid sign of its lingering potency.

Leo (July 23-Aug. 22): Every 33 years, the Leonids meteor showers put on a spectacular light display in the constellation Leo. The next show is scheduled for this Nov. 17-18. Splashing down at a rate of several thousand per hour, the meteors are small but fast, and may knock satellites out of commission. This event happens to be a metaphor for the personal challenge you'll face, Leo. I predict that a swarm of tiny fireworks will threaten to hamper your ability to communicate. Prepare now, though, and you may avoid a crisis.

Virgo (Aug. 23-Sept. 22): I don't think you'll necessarily be eaten alive by the thousand and one demands on you, Virgo. Nor am I worried that you'll be driven berserk by all the runaway minds around you spewing out their millions of half-digested thoughts. It may, however, take heroic efforts for you to be true to yourself without committing the kinds of faux pas that lower your social standing and hurt your family's feelings. But you can do it. The stars say so, I say so, the tarot cards say so. Even Miss Manners said so in my dream last night.

Libra (Sept. 23-Oct. 22): You've got a tough job this week, Libra. I'm sending you my telepathic support. True, you won't be on the spot in quite the same way as the comedians in the court of the old Ottoman sultans. Those poor souls were expected to entertain the royal females as they gave birth. Neither are your tasks as demanding as that of the nannies in the court of ancient China, who had to nurse the emperor's Pekinese puppies. And yet there is something about the work ahead of you that will require you to have as good a sense of humor as the Ottoman comedians and as much nurturing skill as the Chinese wet nurses.

Scorpio (Oct. 23-Nov. 21): Think back to what you were doing in 1986, especially the last half of that year. I'm guessing that there was some masterwork you couldn't quite pull off at that time, some wondrous creation you just weren't wise enough or strong enough to bring to fruition. And now here you are, 12 years later, poised to resolve the karma that was stirred up by that near-miss. I predict that in the next eight to 10 weeks you'll finally earn the breakthrough that was foreshadowed back then.

Sagittarius (Nov. 22-Dec. 21): I hesitate to compare you to a cockroach, because in most ways you're nothing like one, but this week you'll have something akin to its legendary resourcefulness. Just as the annoying insect can survive in almost any environment -- indeed, one experiment showed it can thrive by eating nuclear waste -- you, too, Sagittarius, are primed to triumph over (perhaps even capitalize on) messy adversity. Whether your brilliant adaptability will get you branded as a pest is still up in the air, but I'm sure you can avoid it if you pretend to be polite every now and then.

Capricorn (Dec. 22-Jan. 19): I do believe in Judgment Day, though my version has no resemblance to the Christian event by the same name. In my view, each of us faces a personal evaluation at the end of our life (and after the climax of every one of our incarnations, for that matter). But there's no stern-faced archangel tallying up our mistakes, no devilish-looking god itching to cast another sinner into a fiery abyss. Your judge is none other than your own higher self. "How completely have you lived up to your potential?" this eternal part of you wants to know. "How well have you learned to love?" Now, Capricorn, you don't have to wait till you die years from now before taking this inventory. Indeed, you should not wait. How about staging your first mini-Judgment Day this week?

Aquarius (Jan. 20-Feb. 18): I've got to be frank: You Aquarians no longer have the luxury of holding on to your adolescence, let alone your childhood. The same goes for your amateur status and Mickey Mouse approaches. In my astrological opinion, it's time to take a step toward being on the verge of tiptoeing to the brink of preparing to accept mature professionalism into your heart with unconditional welcome. You could make the process less harrowing by hanging out with those rare wise guys and wise gals who've survived the transition to adulthood with their irreverence and curiosity intact.

Pisces (Feb. 19-March 20): The seductive torments of insatiable desires are leaving you in peace, at least for a while. Now you're free to concentrate on more satiable desires. Just one problem: A few astrological experts I know are saying that you've grown so fond of the chase that you won't know what to do if you actually catch your prey. Prove the experts wrong. Surrender to the mysteries of simple and utter gratification.

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