Dr. Pants McTurd's

             MORE Than True Horror-scopes

                       

           (not associated with horror or scopes of any ilk)

                                 

this week: The Pants are off till 2013! Feel the breeze…

Doc P’s Neato Word of the Week: adiaphorous. Hopefully this placebo will work.

Doc P’s Random Quote of the Week: “What worries me about religion is that it teaches people to be satisfied with not understanding.”

 ---Richard Dawkins

                                                Aries

Your voice is a golden garden of mellifluous melody as seen from a pleasingly poignant periphery, probably located outside the relative norms that we all concede to eventually; despite evidence to the contrary—like the obvious and cruel injustices of the world that seem hard wired and unavoidable—as if tragedy is our lot in life, our destiny, and sole hope for our progeny. Perhaps we are a puzzle that’s missing a piece—or pieces, which I assume are the ‘lucky’ ones that were unjustly stolen—moments that we can’t get back, and if we’re lucky, we can enjoy with a relish and fervor for life regardless of its iniquities. Wait- reverse engineer that—we are constantly in a state of discovering our natures…as if we are remembering who we are, and hopefully, how—maybe even why.

                                                Taurus

End of the world movie I wish I had thought of last year: It’s Dec 21, 2012, and real fire breathing pissed off alien dragon spawn attack the earth and claim it as their own. They enslave humankind, forcing us to satisfy their twisted carnal and caligulan perversions, until eventually an armed resistance rises up and we slay the dragons, which of course has some subtle undertones of the metaphorical dragons we have to slay inside ourselves to become healthy loving adults; I’m thinking the beautiful Jennifer Lawrence as the Joan of Arc type lead---anyhoo, so--- we end the post apocalyptic death/dragon -scape, and reclaim the earth in the name of a re-united humanity that agrees upon certain inalienable rights—like to life, liberty and the pursuit of an ever changing happiness. But does it really require dragons? Or some other incalculable force that we have yet to imagine? I avouch, NO! Point is, let’s talk development, post end of the world carnage.

Gemini

Okay: we’re going to get real right now with…the Bosphorus. Fer reals, get out your thinking caps and/or maps. It’s a waterway that connects that Asia to Europe, and is of course at and near the birthplace of what we refer to as civilization—geographically pretty neat! But imagine for a moment the countable millennia of primate evolution. We spread out from Africa as a nomadic motley crew, hunting cooperatively and settling when possible, inventing cul- and agri- (ture)/culture there, and establishing boundaries, and evolving---over centuries and eons of time. And it’s been going on from whence we first crawled from the muck, all breathing oxygen and stuff, to say to the world—I AM ALIVE, DON’T TREAD ON ME!!! Point is, the Bosphorus is a metaphor—geography creates part of our identities. Look around you—make sure you like what you see.

Cancer

What if our universe, with all it's strings and theories, is a single cell of a giant organism that is even larger than we can conceive, that in turn is part of a larger ecosystem of an even larger Mother Gaia, which in turn is part of a larger solar system and galaxy that make up another universe replete with stringy theories, and from there it just keeps going ad infinauseum® till only god, or its equivalent, re the future definitions of the uncountable genius of forever and forever and forever and life without end...peace, peace and peace...amongst some strife and bloodshed...but still a delicate balance betwixt ebb and flow; or love and hate, fear and loathing; transdimensional and here/now. But that’s all crazy shit. For now, remember that you are the synecdoche. Tend your farm and nourish your crops.

Leo

Lets conversate on this crazy shit: Our past is a bell curve spanning the difference between what we think we can be, and the hard wired free will of individuality that propels us forward towards uncertain futures that may or may not contain the following: blizzards, giant man eating turtles, rhubarb, professional arm wrestling, and a dead Disney inheriting Star Wars (Walt, protect us). Point is, you are a solar dynamo—a weirdly spinning band of energy created a massive magnetic field that naturally draws matter to you—being a field of any kind, be it magnetic or soccer, means that other fireflies like and unlike yourself will want to light their little fannies and worship your flame, your heat and your light. You have a beautiful glowing butt made of fire and kindness and empathy. Use it to lure your demons to peaceful end.

                                                Virgo

That commercial where a Toyota truck pulls the space shuttle all by itself highlights the philosophical slippery slopes of perspective, or superposition in general timespace. Before the truck pulls the shuttle, they hitch the two together via a simple looking metal pin. And here’s where I think Toyota screwed the pooch on this one: Towing the massive space shuttle requires a lot of force, but only comparable to the tensile strength of the pin—how much stress the pin can handle is paramount to the task, and therefore maybe we all just need a really strong metal pin and not a Toyota, and all our problems will be towed into a permanent home that reeks of civility and quietude. You are that proverbial linchpin now. And your fortitude will be looked directly in the face; but rest easy, for what it will see there will be courage and fearlessness.

                                                Libra

Your intrinsic artiste is cro-magnon and war-like, and yet you casually walk the tightrope betwixt the ethereal and the desired; as well as the mathematically probable and infinite madness of ski slopes made by fusion; processes that are as yet beyond our ken or control, or even design. You are a giant, and thusly I believe you should behave—When smashing snowflakes together, hydrogen becoming one and splitting in twain to become two, and so on ad infinaseum® until we are met not on a battlefield, but on a level plain where all resources are maximized and science rules our fields—not fate, not religion, not dogma, nor ritual—lest it be of the most passive and non lethal kind. Imagine there’s no heaven. That you could actually live your life in peace--weird.

                                                Scorpio

What we’re not prepared for is the next leap of communication betwixt us-- human to human, as a direct result of the more rapid rate of technological capability combined with the concept of individuality and singularity, of which we seem to be culturally obsessed. Language and empathy took frigging forever to evolve into our current reality. What if my self and your self are easily sub and/or merge-able and malleable into a new conglomeration that might employ the homogenization of our collective thought and understanding. We’re walking in the footsteps of the basic building blocks of the universe—one becomes two becomes googolplex and so on. What if we as individuals are a collective? More complicated than the bees of course-- more nuanced, but still advancing as a group that would reward itself with reasonable cooperation, and a non negotiable anti mutual destruction clause. Sting like a butterfly and walk like a bee, and I’ll meet you on the inside of your brain.   ps read pisces and maybe aries too.

                                                Sagittarius

Quickly, a word about turkey: what a word! It’s a modern day country, a bird, a bowling term, an abject failure, a symbol of abundance stuffed with bread and perhaps other meats, while we willingly suck up to the teat of beautiful gravy, born of dripping carcass juices in oven’s demesne- heat makes change and hence, life—mutation—evolution—process upon countless processes, culminating in the spirit of thyself—the anima of your consciousness---the synecdoche of you that is part and parcel of the universe at large—the micro to the macro, and all the dalliances in betwixt. Your multi faceted turkey is within you—a manifestation of you…that’s why we eat it…to gain its power!! Grok your mammalian roots and hunt the wild orchid—fret not the power of imagined overlords… You are free. You are free. You are free. You are free. You are free. You are free……

                                                Capricorn

A halo, or nimbus, or icebow, is an atmo effect that when ice crystals in strato create a visual effect of a circle of light around the sun—and briefly, here’s the history of the halo: naturally, the sun is the logical thing to worship from an early primate point of view. The sun seems like it controls everything. Sun worship—sounds great—but it’s merely a step in the evolutionary chain. The sun creates everything, but then there’s weather and altitude, and countless other factors that determine/influence our evolution, and ergo—our beliefs…so, anyhoo, the atmo effect of a halo evolved into the shining light behind all our saviors and/or prophets and or/ benevolent tyrants. This is how we communicate through time, ergo: we are timeless, and the knowledge of all our forbears is finite, and yet also: our birthright. Feel the glow? Dive fearlessly through to the other side of the halo and report back.

Aquarius

We think a lot, you and I—‘specially when the evening's spread eagled against the sky and we lie as patients sleeping upside down and table-wise, all angular and semantic, unaware of the implications of our soul’s true wont. And despite outsider behaviorisms, we are not imbalanced to the wrong side of the bell curve that plagues humanity, simply because of some basic math of large populations and the exponential rate of evolution in a relatively closed system such as ours, or so I presume yours to be—be cause the elemental difference betwixt our genetic codes—hard ass wiring, bitches…brain, en-warped and steadfast throughout the medievilness of his-story…oh shit---over thinking has made me undone, and yet I cannot deny my/our true nature. Just keep the keel even, and the pensive seas will remain calm as long as they humanly can.

                                                Pisces

You’re a reverse engineerio, reborn phoenixlike in every century, in every reachable place where like species gather, to pull apart like pulled pork, the how of why things work---whether that be a monster truck or a person’s psyche or those pesky tachyons or those irritating wants and yens and yearning that draw us dangerously close to trouble---and why not dive in? The how of the why is the secret to everything; just bear in mind that the how of every why will likely take even a brilliant mind such as yours, all of time to figure out, especially considering that the how of every why is an infinite journey into the madness of infinity. Infinity! Bah, I say. B-A-H. Forever is just absurd when you really put your brain into it—which is my rambling point: we are swept through infinity, and as you travel your understanding only grows. Embrace and forgive—including thyself.

                         Dr. Pants McTurd's

          MORE Than True Horror-scopes

                     

          (not associated with horror or scopes of any ilk)

                                 

Doc P’s Random Quote of the Week: “With reasonable men, I will reason; with humane men I will plead; but to tyrants I will give no quarter, nor waste arguments where they will certainly be lost.  ~ William Lloyd Garrison ~

Doc P’s Word of the Week: ephemera. Look it up quick! It won’t last.

Aries- Routine is the word of the day, and week and month, and etc. Strap yourself in to this latticework of thought: every day the sun rises, times passes and situations progress and elapse—every frakking day; weird--almost like clockwork, or a mathematical something. Momentary lapses of reason are to be expected, the math necessitates it---eclipses and momentary alignment of forces will hold meaning—depending on where you’re standing; hence perspective defines meaning! And it’s the repetitive motions of consciousness and behavior that give meaning to what is ostensibly an indeterminate ether. Before you say that I’ve over thought whatever this is, let me point out that that’s my job. Your job is something else entirely. Your life’s work is only just beginning, so strap in and put on your thinking cap. The road may get bumpy—but repetitively so.

Taurus- You are a twisted angel, whose will is bent towards good and light and pleasant dreams; but whose inner demon is naughty and titillating and sweet like a 100 year old scotch. And somehow you ride the lightning, adeptly skiing the gentle curve and slope that exists between realities, a buffer between dimensions, where the newtonian rules and einsteinial paradoxes break down--and any thing is possible. And now, you find yourself in this body, burdened by its rules and arbitrary societal norms and regulators of acceptable human behavior—you are the id reaching up through the surface of a lake, holding aloft a sword of wonderment, not as a present for a king, but as a symbol and exercise of your true power—control of the beast within you, within us all. You are a tower of strength and a pillar that Atlas would envy. (read Scorpio)

Gemini- The Movimento Autonomo per la Liberazione delle Anime da Giardino is Italian that translates roughly to: the Garden Gnome Liberation Front. For reals.

They believe garden gnomery is slavery. See, the gnome is the modern day leftover of the greco-roman god Priapus. Anyhoo, gnomes actually tend to the garden at night, and apparently that’s just plain wrong. So these folks kidnap gnomes from their slave masters, and return them to the wild. Yes, brilliant, I know, but can these inanimate garden gnomes protect and feed themselves out there? You can’t release a domesticated dog into the wild; it won’t know how to survive. And I’m not one to espouse slavery of any kind, but we must fight the so-called Liberators! While they may reek of the stench of moral righteousness, they are actually endangering the gnomes they claim to be saving. And it’s a war of attrition: the Chinese will keep manufacturing more garden gnomes than the world has ever known, until these bastard “liberators” are just too exhausted to go on—or until the entire wild is so filled with gnomes that all the regular wildlife has to move into government sponsored housing somewhere on the lower east side. Control your gnomes—and save your planet—save yourself. (read scorpio and taurus)

Cancer- You are beagle nosed and eagle eyed, not to mention riled and wild and never tired. You are the leader of the newly minted Shotgun Bear Army®; trained by a master in leg sweeping, twisting the pig, and decrying righteously the foully unjust, the cretinous and the cruel, the takers and the never-givers—people who play politic with my principles---OUR principles, which are supposed to maintain a healthy appetite for the bounty of life, the blessings of existence and the plaudits of self examination and catharsis; psychological evolution that leads to the next level, the next incarnation of a soul’s journey through weird fibroid strings dancing amongst mysteriously dark matter. You are prepared for anything, I assure you. Fear no thing.

Leo- The ‘false me’ can’t survive. What if…who we think we are is just a projection of our soul, our mind, our—-something-ness—and the next level isn’t heaven---or rather, that heaven is a primordial representation of our true nature—and now we must create a new Mayan calendar that begins with the end of the current one. Not the end of the world in such a contrived literal fashion, but a transition into a new mindset, to which even the mathematically brilliant Mayans said, hey man, let’s stop the math here, man—because what comes next is upper level shit. Even the Mayans got stumped. This date is the edge of a change, yes—but one of great consequence in terms of our identity. And…identity is all we are---for the time being. Trust in who you are. Be what you’re like, and be like yourself. The flow is safe and easygoing, ride it like you’re floating with no effort.

Virgo- Denny’s Paradox has nothing to do with Moons Over My Hammy, nor anything to do with staying up all night as a teenager ingesting overly salty food, that down the road will lead to hypertension and hot bloated feet. It has to do with animal locomotion on a liquid surface. Enter the water strider; those weird leggy bugs that can scoot their little bug butts across the surface of a pond—yep, it’s a jesus bug. But because of silly garbage like the laws of physics, the water strider shouldn’t be able to do it. But physics is for wussies that don’t believe in stuff that seems impossible. The multiverse is malleable, I assure you. Whether you’re an adept or just a bumbling fool, I cannot say, not to your face anyway. My advice after the jumble you just passed your eyes over: Go to Denny’s, order something greasy, which shouldn’t be a challenge, and contemplate the possibilities of a malleable continuum, one you can change at will…with some practice and fortitude.

Libra- The world gets weirder every day. Stuck in my screen door, like countless other flyers and ads that often meet with a trashy end, was a business card that said ‘Desi Alvarez---Flyer Distributer’. Firstly, cool name—Desi. Secondish, at first glance, this seems very entrepreneurial—maybe he’s the best there’s ever been. Maybe he’s the son of the son of the son of the guy who invented leafletteering®. Although… Thomas Paine was a professional loudmouth self publisher too, so….better to have ink on your hands than blood, I suppose. Anyhoo, thirdmost, what an odd world it is where capitalism and competition and a relatively open marketplace can create a need for a new breed of professional pamphleteers. And fourth estatishly, the card also says ‘100% guaranteed—rain or shine. I’m not suggesting you start leaving your flyers everywhere, but it is time to step up your game. It’s sunny and warm, and the stars and screen doors are aligned.

Scorpio- I hope that you are timeless and eternal and everlasting. I could not bare it if you were of the ephemeral and transitory and evanescent ilk, lasting only minutes or days like the mayfly; here to spawn one minute, and the next covering my car and roadways for a couple weeks straight in May or June back in Minnesota. But you are so beautiful… your lithe form disappears in the mists of my imagination about you. You excite my delirium into a state of non-solid, non-liquid, non-gaseousness—you turn those around you to plasma, or the nuclear furnace of a sun. Fusion! Yes, that’s the word I was searching for you today—Fusion!—an inception of energy from the building blocks of the ‘verse. To know you, is to orbit you—a friendly passerby interested in your space junk. (read taurus)

Sagittarius- From nothingness, to zero, to one, to two, to multiples and multiples of crazy number based matrices that make no literal sense; and to boot, are ad infinauseum®. Bases of ten, and the concept of zero which even the Romans didn’t have—why, the power and corrigible of authority of nothingness lies in our wills…to turn a possibly Baconian phrase. But even if the matter is dark, there is always some thing. Every quantum inch of this weird multiverse has something going on at all “times”. There is no zero—except in math. And while I’m not here to tell you that you’re not math, or that you can’t be described in those terms; no, rather, I’m here to tell you that if you can imagine nothing, then everything else is a fucking cakewalk. Googolplex.

Capricorn- Vodka is analogous to a potato’s blood. Or so I’m going to sit here and posit, so don’t turn your proverbial nose up at a metaphor involving tuber blood---it’s actually quite sanguineous! You should drink it whenever you get a cut or a “boo-boo” and it will probably make you heal super fast. Blood for blood. Rum, however, will bloat your innards, genitalia, and appetite for bat meat—which I’ve meaning to bring up as definitely not safe for human consumption. Sake combined with beer on the other paw, will induce elite feets and syncopated beats, bound and determined to fill your donuts with bacon, your brownies with liquid thc, and your psychological sack with as many blissful orgasms as the universe has stars. But bourbon is where you need to stick the landing. Bourbon, named for kings, is the elevator to the stars and beyond. Bourbon is the blood of the holy. But if you abstain, don’t fret—the metaphor is only in its early stages.

Aquarius- The relationship between Aquarii and their emotions is a tricky sloppily taut tightrope that we insist on crossing cautiously. Having emotions is part of the deal in these here bodies, all hard wired in; but not always the greatest idea for planning your day or your actions. Emotions are often rash and founded upon ancient evolutionary gut reactions; probably due to a world that believe it or not, was much more dangerous than today’s war torn deathscape. Fear has an evolutionary purpose, but we’re aware enough to know that feelings are sometimes based on pure illogic. We Aquarii are blessed and cursed with something else that’s hard wired-- the ability to pluck logic and knowledge right out of thin air. What we don’t know is only what we haven’t had time to ponder yet. Our brains are a fascinating survival skill. Thought and preponderance before bloodletting and strife and cutting remarks meant only to belittle. Brilliance embodied.

Pisces- If you don’t believe that I can connect the great and tyrannical King Nimrod the Evil to Bugs Bunny, then you better hold on to your panties. Allegedly, Nimrod was a very powerful man, who slipped over the border into despotism, but hey—who’s perfect? And hey, sometimes we all think we’re more powerful than god, and we all require an Abraham to come knock us down a peg. Nimrod was also known as a mighty hunter. I figure most tyrants make good hunters, what with the need to smite and all. Which brings me not to Bugs yet, but to Elmer Fudd, the worst hunter probably ever. Bugs calling him a nimrod ushers the 20^th century into an updated definition for an ancient word; while simultaneously bringing the great king nimrod down to the lowest level of stupidity in payment for his sins. Mock the evil and we win, it’s how we rise above the bad shit that inevitably goes down. Find your Bugs, and mock the evil. 

                        Dr. Pants McTurd's

           MORE Than True Horror-scopes

                       

           (not associated with horror or scopes of any ilk)

                                 

disclaimer: Satire is BS---big and super.

this week: “My insides are privy only to me, and via a megaphone of unpredictable efficiency, available to you in a very limited fashion.” 

---D. Pants circa 2012.

Doc P’s Word of the Week: erinaceous. Burrow deep and seek the hedgehog of truth—it knows you and will never lie; and yet—be cautious in your questioning. He is conniving and queery and knows every misdeed and sin that you’ve visited upon your own soul. Also, he loves cheese filled pastries.

Aries-  St. Oran of Iona was willingly buried alive. They had some construction difficulties in building the chapel, which, in 548 BCE is pretty understandable, what with Home Depot over 1500 years away. A ‘voice’ told him the chapel couldn’t be constructed until there was a living man interred below. Yes, yes... sound logic. Anyhoo, they entombed him, and while he in there, he discovered through a vision that there was no heaven or hell to look forward to; there was nothing. He told this to the other priests and builders after he poked his head through a rock wall, still not dead and several days later. So…they buried him again. Point is that life is short enough. There’s no point to burying yourself under a mountain of crap. Burst through the rock wall with more than just your head. Tell us, Lazarus of what you have seen and let’s grab a pizza pie.

Taurus- How many centuries do you think it took for man to figure out that if you cook rock at very high heat, you can extract and assay the minerals within? Years to perfect for sure, but just the idea of cooking rocks must have taken centuries. Or…it took years of pre-thinking—scouring the earth and utilizing anything that might be a helpful tool to ensure survival—and then in a flash of brilliance, some tribe, some shaman, some nutball thought, hey let’s cook some rocks and see what happens. And then centuries again to distribute that knowledge along trade routes, and organized culture that also took centuries to develop. But it’s that one moment of discovery---even if it happens in different cultures at the same time by different nutballs, it’s a flash of neurons that takes A and makes B. Further, I posit: Who can take a rainbow, wrap it in a sigh / Soak it in the sun and make a groovy lemon pie? Life is candy, baby…

Gemini- Ok-- semantics, re time: the difference between the words aboriginal and indigenous is a personal bone of contention between myself and my sometimes literate friends who persist in arguing moot points. There’s one in every crowd—who will deny a valid state of logic because they confuse connotation with denotation. To denote is to define. To connote is to imply---distinctions that may be culturally based, or even geographical, for which there is a direct and obvious correlate—and I’m detonating here:  Disagreement based on terminology is unimportant compared to the larger picture. A temple is a church is a place of worship is a meeting hall is a gathering place is a moment in time where individuality combines with “communistic” thought, and adheres to the indisputable laws of the math of evolution. Don’t quibble about that which you simply wish to argue the advocate of the devil. Denotation is provable science, and humans are the same everywhere, regardless of language and…semantics.

Cancer- Currently in the US, there is a distinct lack of acceptability of blood levels in mass produced meat foods. What happened to our love affair with blood? When George Washington was on his deathbed, he was bled- routinely in fact throughout his life. Blood is our lifeblood: blood sacrifice, bloodletting, bloodbaths, blood-a-palooza---Amazing isn’t? In a fraction of a second, we hold breath in our lungs and, this substance zips by, grabs oxygen and transports it to all parts of the body, feeding it and making it strong. But it seems like we’ve become Dexter—remove all traces, so that what is left is pure meat, drained completely of it’s life giving essence. The onset of the Age of Aquarius doesn’t have to be about removing all emotion from daily life. But it is a good step after millennia of bloodbaths and needless killing. Promote lifeblood, promote peace—a logical and sound peace for the good of all. It’s your ‘destiny’

Leo- The thrust of astrology, I’m supposing, is a reflection of our development as a self-aware species, able to “navigate” its own “destiny”. We created astrology, assigning value to the heavens, not out of truth, but out of our own reflection. There is no “truth” out there. There is only (ironically and grammatically awkward…) ourselves. So screw it if your moon is in aries, or your Jupiter is in blah-de-blah. Consider the source. And consider that Gaia is an evolving matrix, and you—an individual, free will and all, are just trying to make sense of it, as is your wont and fate---again, semantics are no way to speak of the not-yet-knowable. Point-is, as Allah allegedly proclaimed: “god’ ‘loves’ infinite diversity”. Sew together the patterns of your will and heaven is yours. 

Virgo- Edward Hyde, 3rd Earl of Clarendon, governor of new york and new jersey 1701-1708, was one hell of a cross dresser. Purportedly, he would dress up, hide behind trees, and pounce on unsuspecting passersby’s and then laugh at them. He is reported to have opened the 1702 New York Assembly clad in a hooped gown and an elaborate headdress and carrying a fan, imitative of Queen Anne. When his choice of clothing was questioned, he replied, "You are all very stupid people not to see the propriety of it all. In this place and occasion, I represent a woman (the Queen), and in all respects I ought to represent her as faithfully as I can." It is also said that in 1707, when his wife died, His High Mightiness (as he preferred to be called) attended the funeral dressed as a woman. He also took bribes, was intolerably corrupt, and died in debt. Cautionary tale? Maybe. You decide. Crossdress if you must, but beware the social consequences. If your secret is too heavy to hold in your hand, the give it to the world and let them sort it out.

Libra- Not to harp on this on-going thesis I have regarding humans vs. plants in a never ending battle to control the earth, but think about this shit: plants make oxygen—which we need to breathe, hence to live. They’ve got us by the cajones, man! No matter our level of agricultural contrivances, plants give us oxygen, hence life. They’re unstoppable in the long run. We create carbon dioxide as a result of our penchant for energy, sans the inevitable byproduct of heat and CO2, and the plants laughing at us, even as we cut down one rainforest at a time. We will have to become very adaptive indeed to overcome the plants’ durability. And yet…maybe that’s the process…as a species we move through timespace and advantage ourselves of whatever resources are available-- supply and demand-- easey-peasey-lemon-squeezey. But what’s underneath our feet may undermine us in the long run should we continue to trample thusly. Watch your tracks as well as your future.

Scorpio- I already know that you’re a Hylozoist, but let’s chat. Hylozoism, as you probably know, at least subconsciously, is the belief that all matter in the universe, which I assume includes the dark meat variety, is alive; or at least has the capacity to spontaneously generate it. Now, before you get on your high horse and argue about the definition of life—let’s just go with carbon and silicon and arsenic based for now. Could the universe be one big pulsating amoeba, with the most intricate of workings? And thereby, making us a working part inside that organism---like the earth, Gaia, or Mother—is a chromosome buried somewhere deep inside Big Mamma Universe Amoeba, or BMUA®…which sure sounds like Gaia—one machine, with countless moving parts. Of which, we are two. And you are also one. You old Hylozoist, you.

PS, read Cancer—it’s right up your veins.

Sagittarius- Homo sapiens began in Africa, and it makes logical sense that they moved north through the Sinai, and then in all directions, since travel by boat was several millennia away. And in my humble futuristic opinion, there is a correlation between this relatively small isthmus of travel through the “middle east”, to the violence and social instability that we see in the region today, despite the best efforts of now long gone european powers that once existed with the supreme mandate: to rule the entire earth and all its people and resources. It’s the Grand Central Station of all of humanity’s egress from the Motherland, Africa. Our birth led us on different paths, dictated by geography and climate…one peninsula that acts as a hinge of power—and luckily sitting on oil…and the crossroads of humanity. Pointis, you are here, just like on mall maps. Where next?

Capricorn- The ‘spice of life’ makes me think of anthropology and humanity and geography. And yes, this is another installment of ‘how the Pants thinks that plants are trying to take over the world—always have, always will, and we must stop them, or at least cultivate the ones we like and kill everything else. But before sciencey times, when accumulated knowledge had enough time to simmer, spices, aka plants…were the progenotor of our development as a species. The Spice Trade (which has been around longer than any industry on earth), spearheaded humanity’s evolutionary path with the likes of cinnamon, ginger, musk and ambergris. The pursuit of which, drove humanity to favor certain plants. Who are the masters and who is the would-be usurper? Watch your ass, I’m just sayin’It looks nice and people want it.

Aquarius- We’re well on our way to figuring out, to some ridiculously small detail, how the universe is actually and literally put together. We should probably get going on a space based super collider, which would in even more absurd detail show us the very latticework on which reality is built. Hopefully it’s not a house of cards that a curious species with a super collider could destroy themselves with, along with countless layers of the multiverse, pissing off ‘god’ in a big way. Pointis, if you read the XXXX horoscope, my new theory is that our universe is a small part in an even bigger and grander machine that grows eternally and has always existed. And always will—will being the key and watch word. Keep in mind, the multiverse is infinite, and we’re only beginning to get an inkling of a clue. Breathe deep. And read Gemini.

Pisces- You have an overabundance of hither AND thither happening right now. A deluge of higgledy, and a preponderance of piggeldy are also weighing you down. And yet—there’s a severe dearth of hokey pokey and/or a dearth of hocus pocus. But in terms of flotsam AND jetsam—you have a plethora of multitudes—lots of shipwreck and jettisoned ballast, polluting the waters of your oceanic piscean mind. Your beaches—the air induced meeting of land and sea, have been slicked oily by unfair merchants and businessmen and privateers with neither care nor interest for the sanctity of earth-- of Gaia the Mother—giver of life and creator of souls, as well as sci-fi and futurism, and soft serve ice cream from Top Cone in Rockford, Ill. Beauty ill defined is still beauty—and ugly is an illusion, an evolutionary choice. Evolve and stop judging.

the Pants are back!

                        Dr. Pants McTurd's

           MORE Than True Horror-scopes

       (not associated with horror or scopes of any ilk)

                                 

The Doc’s Random Quote of the Week: “Never attribute to malice that which can be adequately explained by stupidity, but don't rule out malice.   ---Heinlein

Doc P’s Word of the Week: potvaliancy. I may be tipsy, but I’ll go dragon hunting!

Aries-  The way of the world is wyrd. And later that evolved into weird; but the way of wyrd is a tangled and askew skein. Wyrd is fate, which makes a great argument for the no free will thing, which is hard wired fer surely, but is not necessarily a real thing. Sure…’God doesn’t play dice with the universe’; but did Einstein consider a multiverse full of dark matter and deep fried twinkies? He probably did, he is Einstein. Or maybe he did in another universe---another level of reality that we’re not privy to because of its subatomic curvyosity®. Wyrd is fate. And because we ‘believe’ it exists, then it must hold truth---or water—yes! It holds water-- the universal solvent! You are awash in the way of wyrd. It’s a deep cleanse.

Taurus- So…schools of thought regarding bear activity, which usually occurs on the outskirts of ‘society’, hopefully not in cities at large, because you know---bears, for crap’s sake, with a dash of bipedalism and giant claws; they will eat your whole face. Colbert is dead on, as usual. Bears are to be feared; but…only proportionally to the number of bears vs humans in your immediate vicinity. Less bears, less reason to panic. More bears, buy a shotgun, and bury your trash—and your poop; because they have the keenest sense of smell in the Kingdom Mammalia; so, dude—pretty impressive, right? This week, prepare for bears—the literal ones and those in the mind’s eye.

Gemini- Things you deem to be illicit in nature are exactly what evolution wants. Or god---but point is, that mutation occurs on a mathematically provable pace and tempo, according to environment---which of course is multi-faceted and diverse, due to the nature of a (‘currently’) expanding universe; at least in theory-- depending on the invariable future that lies )‘before’( us; not to mention (but I will), the unforeseeable consequence of ‘free’ will—which at this point I think we can agree is probably hard wired into the brain via millennia upon millennia of change over time. Change over time. It’s perfect and mathematical, and it sets us free. How it will alter our evolution and mandate further mutation and the infiniteness of the ‘creator’?  I won’t say. I don’t want to spoil the unfolding of a great surprise. Know your truth and eat heartily.  

Cancer- According to Wikipedia, Da Vinci is defined as an Italian Renaissance polymath. And hey, that’s impressive-- POLY freaking MATH. Able to do pretty much anything, provided the canvas is unlimited, as well as the funding, and despite certain sexual proclivities that society still has problems with to this very inexplicable day. Give freedom to those that are gifted because they will return triple your investment. Even if you don’t personally recognize inherent genius, perhaps a more rarified version of exceptional genius may shine through all the muck and/or mire. Against all odds, some people prefer to break barriers and create their own timeline of their own will and sweat and tear and blood and toil—simply because there simply is nothing else. There is nothing else, in this Hemingway Multiverse®. Nothing is also beauty.

Leo- The history of cat photography annotated with clever sayings is a rich history indeed. For example, Lolcat is a fake bullshit word for LOL (which is also bullshit) and cat, meaning the picture of the cat with a funny expression combined with a stupid human contrived saying, the likes of which I could way improve upon. Idigresspointis, that cat photography has been nearly rampant since the 1870’s. And while I support the feline nation, I’m subtly disturbed by the fascination of cats and photography. It borders on the fetishistic side of voyeurism; and may ultimately be defined as cat porn. My serious advice to you is: regardless of my uneasiness, make your own cat porn before it’s too late. You will find it hilarious.

Virgo- What do Pope Innocent III, 13^th century Joachimites, Martin Luther of 95 Theses fame, and Christopher ‘rape the natives’ Columbus have in common? They all believed in a specific day on which the world would end. DOOMSDAY. Even smart guy Jacob Bernoulli thought there was a coming apocalypse, and don’t get me started on Pat Robertson’s beliefs-- what a schmuck. Here’s the thing: there’s not a day of any kind of reckoning, at least, I don’t think so; but maybe. There are tons of asteroids out there, and we’re trying like hell to turn this planet into a sauna. I ponder--, hard wired into our brains is a desire for the world to end, so that we can all have peace, so that we can all rest easy; because the world is pain---lots of pain, mucho dolor. Maybe this is hell, and when we die, it’s heaven; and we just have it backwards. Point is, I have no idea. Your take-away from this rambling nonsense should be to live each day to the fullest; because as Tennessee said via Lord Byron: ‘One must make voyages, attempt them!---there is nothing else.’ Get on board.

Libra- There is a fireball of luck inside of you and it’s bursting like in that first Alien movie, hopefully not out of your abdomen, but somewhere softer and more poignant, even if a little messy. It’s almost a sun, all nuclear furnace-like and fusion-rific—very trig, very trig indeed; not to mention, replete with Hostess goodies like the indomitable Twinkie, and the not-available-across-the-Mississippi-in-the-70’s Chocodiles—which was a real pisser to me, as I had fanicied them and developed a taste for, in my formative years in Le Saint Louis du Mis’ry. I’ve digressed---the fireball of luck—wield it wisely.

Scorpio- You need to let go of your transitional object. It’s weighing you down, and is merely a placebo that comforts the estranged and fearful mind parts. I’m not calling you a Linus and laughing at your blankie, but I suspect there is an object, a thing, or an idea that is being used as a transcendent for your psyche—some thing to transport the fearful part of the brain to the future, to the never scary now, where all mysteries are illumined and everybody gets a pizza pie and a smile from the manager. It could even be an outmoded way of thinking, or it could even be a term of art, totally froo-froo and laced in silk and confectionary neurons. Grab on to a new object, one that defines you in the now.

Sagittarius- I suppose happiness could be a warm blanket, but I bet it’s something more ethereal, and hard to define. But then, I grew up in an angry era—post nasty ill conceived televised war, economic recession, and then surprising abundance through government spending, all under a republican regime, led by an ex-actor and union member for irony’s sake. Overlords and tyrants were everywhere, and the America of my youth was very mistrustful and afraid—of pretty much everything. Not like today, where everything is different, and the structure of society is---- Wait…nothing’s really changed? It’s just that now we all have iPhones?? WTF? Maybe we only perceive societal change at a slow tempo, because if it moved as fast as we want it to, all the infrastructure, both literal and psychological, would be too precarious a perch from which to stand, and terror at every angle. The less things change, the more they stay the same, which is beneficial to the human psyche and the overall health of a democratic society. Ponder that shit, and get back to me.

Capricorn- Bruce Wayne and Scarlet Pimpernel—same deal. Stock characters that repeat over and over again in our shared history. The hero with a dark passenger, the big guy looking out for the little guy, as well as the infirm and betrayed. But I’m just a 20/21rst century pussy who gets panicked and asthmatic if the mail doesn’t arrive at the usual time. You, HOWEVER, are a man/woman/new species of internecine humans that exists in a rare continuum that envelopes and develops all existing technology into a new matrix of depraved deformity and erotic intangibles. Your sundries are beyond belief, compare and suspicion. You’re a Dexter and a Mozart. Just don’t get carried away. While maintaining this facile façade and intrinsic belief that you are a kind of justice for all do-gooders, bear in mind, that it’s just your insatiable ego mandating draconian measures and damoclean swordplay to justify its own sense of self importance. Bottom line: free your people, whoever they are. It’s your only hope.

Aquarius- A certain percentage of all humans will always be destined to walk the earth. Like in Kung Fu, just maintaining the justice and civility that all man-apes desire. And Einstein was a Pisces. But Galileo was an Aquarius. So was Paul Newman and Abraham ‘greatest prez ever’ Lincoln. There’s an angle somewhere there that usually eludes us. It’s something to do with the induction and emittance of emotion into what is ostensibly a closed system of logic and blind faith. You want to build something eternal and instructive? Build in the mountains. The low lying sea world will be inundated with weather and invaders of all ilk and specie. The mountains. Buddha and Tibet. Repositories of knowledge that are geographically perfect. Like Fate. Like magic. Find your mountain range and build.

Pisces- Pisces usually get the brunt of it, usually with the full force of the world and gravitational and tectonic forces beyond any rational control. But...what do you expect? You’re the oldest water sign and the transition of the zodiac into the next sign Aries, which has flame-arific issues of its own to deal with. You’re an axis-- a hinge; a gravitational limit of what is possible, even in the macro sense, down to the smallest photon or photograph/jpeg. You are an unbreakable bridge spanning decades and travesties of travails and trials. Anything the ‘verse can dish out, you can handle. You’re Psyche on steroids. Travel, and travail! Dance the macabre. Eat of the fruit of tree knowledge. But leave some breadcrumbs. The trail is long and serpentine. And your brunt is heavy, so maybe consider dropping it.

                        Dr. Pants McTurd's

         MORE Than True Horror-scopes

                      

        (not associated with horror or scopes of any ilk)

                                 

Obscure Quote of the Week: “Never attribute to malice that which can be adequately explained by stupidity, but don't rule out malice.”--Heinlein

Doc P’s Word of the Week: nictitate. Nudge, nudge—A not so subtle intimation that sexual congress is either implied or suggested.

Aries- From your chaste and pure of spirit astrolabe, I can e- and de- duce the following bullshit, which I will attribute to spirit, or destiny, or maybe free will… screw it—go the other way: deny your own autonomy. Actually, wait..you should know that you’re free to choose whatever at any time…’conscious’ decisions that will result in certain consequential actions, that may or may not be entirely ‘favorable’ in the ‘future’. But when does anything in this ridiculous multiverse have solely an up-side? Our lives are mixed bags of  joy and sorrow, fear and regret, good take-out and over cooked eat-ins, orgasms and diarrhea…and etcetera. Point is, that it benefits you, despite the inherent illogic of it, to believe that you are master and commander. Or maybe it’s the luck or wisdom to know the difference between a battle you can win and a battle you can’t but lose. Count your blessings and know thy worst enemy to be a preponderance of self doubt. 

Taurus- This week, keep your unintended mind’s eyes and ears open for the MacGuffin; or if you’re absurdly lucky—the double MacGuffin; no, not the 1979 film directed by Joe Camp, who also directed Hawmps!—a personal favorite of mine because one summer they showed on HBO pretty much daily, and it nicely took the place of playing outside. Back on track—this week’s MacGuffin won’t be a falcon, maltese or otherwise; nor will it be secret governement papers, pride or revenge, or unobtanium, nor a sled named Rosebud; and I seriously doubt it will the be a glowing briefcase. Conversely, it will also not be nothing. Your upcoming MacGuffin is definitely something—and once you discover your true driving force, everything will become illuminated.

Gemini- Before things get out of hand and you repel and shun me with accusatory shouts of ‘Traitor!’; or worse—‘Deist!’, let me re-avow my continued commitment of understanding to what is at its tiniest of levels, a Darwinian world where matter gets together and does cool stuff while in a time continuum that moves forward in an ever changing yet slightly repetitive environ. Beginning with a disclaimer is never a good start, btw, but anyhowdy, I believe the existence of the manatee is proof of a benevolent god. Right…that one—the one that doesn’t exist except as a concept that drives brainwise and forward the wheels of psychological evolution. The manatee shouldn’t exist. If the ocean had couches, that’s where all the manatees would hang out, guaranteed. I say, be the manatee. Grok and glean what you can before time moves on.

Cancer- Awesome sweaters are knit by conniving loomers, and late bloomers are always percolating and scintillating in their prosaic regalia, all effete and subdued; primarily due to the primordial nature of their reptilian brains, and the building blocks of life that are scattered in your wake. You’ve been knitting far asea for far too long. Come home to the mountain, where the water is fresh, where salt won’t shorten your life. Be a landlubber for a while…give it five minutes, we’ll rap about architecture and the growing state of unease at all the conflict and sword crossing that is so rampant before our eyes, and then we’ll down some wine and shoot some veritas, and you’ll be right as rain. Head for land—the champagne will be perfectly chilled. 

Leo- There’s a guy—he’s dead now, so whatever...who designed the world’s tallest column. Before you thank me for the pointless factoid, just wait—there’s more. It’s over 500 feet tall and has a 220 ton star on the top commemorating the Battle of San Jacinto. Yeah, it’s in frakking texas, so don’t mess with it. And someday, far in the future, should it survive, it will qualify as a temple of the ancients; who had a questionable history replete with plot holes, unfilled and untended by the socialist zombie governments that take over what’s left of texas in the year 3023. They will think us less evolved, or possibly equals in relative terms; like we think of the Anasazi peoples, also of the American southwest—which by 2023, will become a lush tropical rainforest. We might be dust in the wind, but make the most of it. Heaven likes a good story, and so does ‘god’. 

Virgo- The Giant Oarfish, also known as the King of Herring, is indeed gigantic---some weighing up to 300kg—but it’s actually not a herring at all, nor even part of the herring family. Wtf? Who made this guy king of the herring? He’s an outsider to the herring world; a rabble rouser and a pied piper of innocent fishes. It seeks to disenfranchise and leech off the very belly of what is a relatively successful species that had thus far endured millions of years on this fickle planet, even though they seem not too good at eluding carnivorous enemies that chomp their asses to bits in the name of a higher protein. Success equals sheer numbers sometimes. You gamble more, you win more. You chase more love, the more love you catch. Do the math. As one Liverpudlian put it, ‘the love you give is equal to the love you take’.

Libra- For a moment, let’s discuss the Buttered Cat Paradox. Firstly, cats always land on their feet. Secondish, toast always lands buttered side down. Ergoandsuch, if we strap buttered toast to a cat’s back and drop the cat off the bed, say—then how will it land? The right side up cat, or the buttered toast, thus negating the well documented cat righting reflex? It’s never been proven, but I believe that the cat will come within some quantum distance of the ground, defy gravity and just hover there until the cat’s attention is distracted, which usually takes a quantum. In other words, I think the paradox will, at least temporarily, suspend all physical laws and expectations. It’s the nature of paradox, when either outcome is simply impossible. I’m not saying you need to go out and tie some buttered toast to Fluffy; I’m merely predicting the arrival of the impossible—the momentary suspension of all physical laws. The freedom should prove astounding.

Scorpio- Victory through force. Peace via complacency. Desire fraught with impatience. I cannot count the ways that you sidestep and cinder block my alley ways and back streets. You are a sidewinder and a sidestepper, bound for absolution amidst the fog of your own attrition and guilt. Drop trow, I say! Your sweet bottom is made for light but firm paddling and whispered nothings that transcend wormholes and the tightest of sundries. The ultimate mystery of control is to be with someone who groks control, and  is arbitrary and malleable, like clay, or jello in a mold—all pre-determined and static—no randomness to get in the way of an unexpected windfall, or unplanned multiple orgasm. Chemical frustration at the hands of morality and social code. You only get one life.

Sagittarius- You are of the same badass ilk, as the likes of one Fritz Joubert Duquesne. Yes, yes, french names do sound funny, but seriously—Fritz managed all of this in one lifetime: soldier, prisoner of war, big game hunter, journalist, war correspondent, anglophobe, stockbroker, saboteur, adventurer and spy. His exploits are absurd. The guy in Catch Me If You Can is bullshit compared to the Jobert. But as happens often in the armchair quarterbacking of history, it’s still safe to say that he was not necessarily a good guy. He was awesome cool, but divided, like Bourne or Bond, whose willingness to kill is something to be considered gravely, whether at heaven’s gate, or at the entrance exam for the CIA. Your business, however, is not killing. You are Sagittarius, the archer; but your arrows are not weapons. They are your desire for adventure, that you shoot at seeming randomness, knowing all too well that it’s easy to strike gold---you just have to envision it, and never sop trying. Fill your quiver, Joubert, and aim with your heart.

Capricorn- Regarding Lincoln, copious volumes have been writ. Same with FDR, or JFK, and Christ!—the jesus/moses/mohammed/buddha literature is ubiquitous! Regarding someone like Alfred C. Finn—precious little, but there is some and it’s pretty neat. Regarding Harry Jones, of Toronto, Canada circa 1823, who ran a successful taxonomy business before the fur drought of 1846, much less has been writ. History is replete with untold stories that may not contain the largess of societal impacts, but are nonetheless fascinating; as well as a synecdoche to understand the macro puzzle of the multiverse, and all of its ‘extra’ dimensions. ‘Point is, I’m no fancy city lawyer, I’m just a country chicken looking for cornbread and some down home lovin’. Write your own story. Some future reader may glean some knowledge that you could ever imagine.

Aquarius- Once we grasp the tachyon, I will be able to send a message to myself in the past, and therefore I should be able to change my present—I’m pretty sure anyway, let’s discuss. The tachyon theoretically always moves faster than light, which means that they exist backwards in time. So, once we harness the tachyon and find a way to send messages, or matter for that matter, like we’re currently learning to do with light waves—which don’t violate the causality based word we live in now—I will be able to send a message to myself last week to prevent myself from eating at that taco truck parked near the animal hospital, thus saving myself from a weekend of intestinal distress. Granted, there are probably better uses for the Tachyonic Antitelephone, but that would be a good test of the equipment. Until I’m ready with the tachyons though, we’ll just have to communicate in normal spacetime. Enjoy the present, for we know not how soon it may change---hell, it could be changing right now…and now again. And also now…

Pisces- Despite past instances, no one controls your actions, and I beg you to stop doubting that; as well as taking this major step, which will seem daunting and fearsome, but that the true ilk of which is illusory and bullshit. Pisces (and Gemini) are the best at creating their own reality—you’re masters of your own fate; and perhaps thinking that makes it so; fuck all, I don’t know…what I do know could fit into a half a microchip, and most of that crap is speculative at best. Use you most inner serpentine instincts. Run naked with conviction and acceptance of your true abilities. No thing can stop you; or save you, and all that ill begotten and undeserved mantel of ‘responsibility’, laid upon  your untested shoulders before time was just, when nary enough seasons had passed-- born of fire, despite your watery nature…. Swim, swim, swim-as if your fins and blow holes depend on it. 

                                    Dr. Pants McTurd's

            MORE Than True Horror-scopes

                 

                      (not associated with horror or scopes of any ilk)

                                 

Apropos Quote of the Week: 'If I cannot deflect the will of Heaven, I shall move Hell.” –Juno, and much later, Freud.

Doc P’s Word of the Week: kerfuffle. I do despise unnecessary disorder…

Aries-  For a moment, let’s talk seriously about the awesomeness of James K Polk, 11^th President of the United States-- No. 1 awesome thing: he promised to be a one term president, and he achieved every goal he set for himself—every goal. He opened the Oregon Territory, christened the US Naval Academy, and the Smithsonian, broke ground Washington Monument, not to mention he issued the first postage stamps, and oh yeah, won the Mexican American War, giving us Texas—the merits of which I’m not here to debate. He is the least known consequential president. Wow, what a moniker. Forgotten, but mucho importante. He is your power animal for the week. Be the Polk. Get your shit done in a timely fashion, and earn your own mediocre moniker.

Taurus- In superhero movies, no one ever eats or gets hungry. No one ever takes a piss, or orders a pizza, or filets a salmon. No superhero ever has to wipe his own ass, or take a shot of whiskey to get through the next earth shaking moment. Which I guess is the point—superheroes aren’t weak—they’re super heroes, not just regular heroes---unless they fall in love. And it’s usually in the second movie in a trilogy, where the hero falls in love and wants to be just a normal guy, white picket fence and weekend bbq’s and probably a drinking habit; so, he denies his true nature, not realizing that what made him strong was the same thing that separated him from the rest of us schlubs. Peaks and valley, man...gutters and strikes…cat food and dingle berries. You’re lucky, however—you get to be super and human, and you make it look so easy.

Gemini- History is replete with pointy hats—usually worn by those in disreputably assumed authority, and by those who feel the need to tell you what to do-- by hook, crook, or happenstance. Don’t listen to them. Don’t lend them an ounce of credence. They’re charlatans and frauds, spitting calumnies and slander and libel. I’m not saying you should be overly suspicious of hat wearers at large, but the covering of the head usually means something to the wearer. From the burke to the baseball cap, head covers denote who we are to the other primates on the battlefield, or even junglewise, where so many distractions lie; and our eyes and senses attune to them—biological markers that help us navigate our environment. And their central theme is allegiance; association, and fraternity with specific forces—which may or may not align with your own. Dress carefully, and forego the hat. Reign with your head, not your accoutrement.

Cancer- To paraphrase the Great One, god does not play dice with the universe. The details of what Einstein meant is replete with riddles and misnomers. Is everything pre-determined? Or is there an element of free will in the movement even of atoms and sub atomic particles? Is our universe just one amongst several of god’s dice throws on the craps table of existence? Or is every universe a separate and distinct reality where likelihood interacts with an evolving individuality, creating untold variation on any number of themes? Personally…I believe whatever the creator might be, it would want infinite variety—infinite; which means that free will is part of the evolution of tiny strings of energy. From the very small to the very large, god’s will courses through us, but only the spirit, not any specific directive. But you should decide for yourself. Peace out. And in. And forever.

Leo- Throughout history, there have been many famous wearers of monocles. Yes, yes—the fixer of astigmatism—the monocle. However, today, monocle wearers are unfairly portrayed as evil, misguided, or uber rich. But trends always reverse themselves, and maybe someday the monocle will come back into fashion. All we need is someone not evil—someone inherently good to sport the monocle in some public way, and bring the monocle back to its previous position of societal importance. I’m not advocating that it should be you, but you are in a prime position to bring something back from the evil side and into pop culture’s spotlight. People are waiting for your move. Choose boldly. And whatever you do, don’t choose disco.

Virgo- Sexy in the Balkans does not equate to sexy in Melbourne…and definitely not Tulsa. Banana hammocks in the south are frowned upon, and who knows what they’re into down under, where the water flows backwardways—they’re probably wearing loincloths made from kangaroos and Kiwis. On a related topic, awesome sweaters are knit by conniving loomers, not fools or cadavers—they have intrinsic knowledge of know how to create life from nothing at all—alchemists of a possibly divine nature—who, if you put them in a thong just seem out of place, and awkward like an emu on a ship on a stormy sea during a storm of incalculable energy. You are about to bring sexy back, my friend---just try to keep it tasteful.

Libra-  My dreams of you are dangerously intimate, and lie ‘cross a temple of verisimilitude that I can only assume implies the true nature of our company to be bed-worthy and prone happy. In the shelter of arms, lay the mercy of two virtuous souls, who crave security and an understanding of love, and of trust and of wabi sabi with the rest of the multiverse. There exists an irregularity to the symmetry of our lives…but this is the google map—this is the logic: patterns are often inaccurate, believe them not, till thou engage the whole pattern—which is if not impossible, at least improbable. The world is indeed, not enough; not enough for the time we’ve spent kissing, or the tables we’ve shared ‘mongst wine and/or candles, maybe some artichoke dip and micro-waved chicken fingers—with dipping sauce. Wake up, it’s much too late…

Scorpio- Your quiddity is inscrutable. Your haecceity is unmistakable. And don’t get me started on your hypokeimenon. Your sub strata of whatness and why-osity strangle my objective observational capacity. I know not if ye be dark matter-- tis no matter; or some future form of plasma that defies our current understanding, but I do know there is no chalkboard or abacus that can handle your numerology. I can’t put my finger on you and I desperately want to. Your symmetry of being is radiant and effulgent, and I may have just soiled myself. Dig, excavate, plunder through ashes and reliquaries and ancient ossuaries and sepulchers: I need not dare you. You’re already there—creeping through layer upon layer to discover the roots of the tree of you. And hey, while you’re there, don’t forget to fertilize. No sense in discoveries that destroy the local environment.

Sagittarius- Contrary to popular belief, the vomitorium is not a special room for ancient roman bulimics. Granted, the romans were known for some pretty sick shit; but building a special room just for binging and purging was not in their purview. Likewise, the Whore of Babylon was not literally a prostitute or a slut. She represents either the church, or rome or both; or any conglomeration of power and arbitrary authority that sets rules and presides over our entrance to heaven. Absolute power corrupts absolutely—a common theme amongst the mathematics of human numbers. Yet, I say to thee: give no credence to the popular vote, for thou art manipulated and denigrated by the upper echelons of the pyramid of power we’ve developed. Yet, I don’t encourage insurrection, or upheaval, nor even glorious chaos—merely an acknowledgement of the total picture before you determine your fate, and make decisions that you cannot repeal or amend. Tread judiciously, and carry a quiver of clever cacophonies to cover your cough.

Capricorn- Grievous injury is usually a life changing event. A laceration here, an auto accident there—why, we’re all moments away from a Skylab falling on our heads unannounced and unwelcome. But as you well know, living with the sword of Damocles over our heads is just exhausting. It would better serve us to hold our focus in another direction. Never focus on the negative---unless you can do it objectively; like a bookie figuring the odds and making mathematically flavored choices in a continuum that technically doesn’t exist; I mean, unless it does; look, I just work here…and I’ve digressed…And what if the injury is emotional in nature?  Internal? Metaphorical, even? Use your central voice; the one that knows for sure, like in your guts, like in your jeuvos de ganas…Don’t think. Drive.

Aquarius- Sometimes I remember everything all at once. It’s like a flood, or a race. Like my neurons are having a lightning storm, and it’s all I can do to not curl up into a ball until the storm passes. I just have to find the key. The images are often fleeting like old film stock: they fritter and freeze, and I can almost piece together the missing seconds: which if you split down to infinity, never end. We can’t remember everything all the time, it just isn’t possible--one would go crazy with the details. And we are not one. We are individual—at least, I think; and one must assume that the collective unconscious is like the iCloud—information available to everyone, so long as the infrastructure remains intact. Don’t fret about every iota of detail. Think big picture, and let the details flow to the minutia minded. We are meant for larger concepts. Don’t sweat the small stuff.

Pisces- Hades has five rivers, not just the Styx (the river of hate). The other four are: Acheron (river of sorrow), Cocytus (river of lamentation), Phlegethon (river of fire), and Lethe (the river of forgetfulness). Cut to: a modern interpretation of this territorial directive: hate leads to sorrow, sorrow to lamentation, which electrochemically erupts into fire, in the hopes of transformation, and then hopefully to forgetfulness…because the living must move past the tragedy and the sorrow and the hate. And therefore we hold certain days to be sacred for remembering a forlorn forgotten past—those souls who touched us, but who are now ethereal and pure of spirit. Life is a river, like consciousness; We’re all afloat amidst rapids of undeterminable fate. You are Aeneid and Homer, moving between worlds searching for salvation, and hope. Your journey is right on track. Happy (belated) All-Souls Day.