By Jared Chausow
By Katie Toth
By Elizabeth Flock
By Albert Samaha
By Anna Merlan
By Jon Campbell
By Jon Campbell
By Albert Samaha
TAURUS (April 20-May 20):"Consumer brands are the new religion," reports the Financial Times. "People turn to them for meaning." The evidence? Instead of attending church on Sunday, many of the faithful swarm to Ikea. Countless couples exchange their marital vows at Disneyland. Bikers are buried in coffins bearing Harley-Davidson logos. Don't tell me you haven't been infected with this faux religion, Taurus; we all have. But I'm happy to announce that it's a perfect astrological moment for blasphemy and dissent. Renounce your worshipful attachment to brand names and products that are sapping your spiritual juice! Break the hold of your addiction NOW! Just say NO to false gods!
GEMINI (May 21-June 20): I have just finished skimming Hiroyuki Nishigaki's surprising book How to Good-Bye Depression: If You Constrict Anus 100 Times Everyday. Malarkey? Or Effective Way? Though I haven't had a chance to try out his simple and revolutionary approach to mental health, I feel confident about recommending it to you. It's time to take drastic, perhaps unconventional measures to disperse the funky moods that have plagued you recently. Regular butt-squeezing may be able to accomplish what no other therapy can. As one satisfied reader testified after achieving miracles with this technique: "Free your ass and your mind will follow."
The Televisionary Oracle
A Novel by Rob Brezsny
A lusty but sensitive rock star encounters the leader of a goddess - worshiping religious order that values pranks as much as prayers.
Check out Rob's band World Entertainment War.
Want to know more about Rob, or look up past horoscopes? Visit freewillastrology.com.
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CANCER (June 21-July 22): Can you find a sensitive saint who'll cater to your desires for a whole day? Someone who is knowledgeable about what gives you pleasure, who would listen with supple curiosity to your stories, who would sing you songs and read you poems and describe to you in lyrical detail all your wonderful qualities? In other words, Cancerian, can you enlist the devotion of a love genius who would regard being of service to you as a holy privilege? The planets have rarely been better aligned for such a possibility. The entire universe is yearning to be more demonstrative in showing its love for you.
LEO (July 23-Aug. 22): The bumblebee seems to be aerodynamically unsound. Its body weight appears too great for its wingspan. Indeed, if it were as big as an airplane, it would never get off the ground. Fortunately, it knows nothing of the laws of physics as they apply to machines, and therefore never suffers from self-doubt as it soars and darts. I suggest you make this creature your power animal in the coming weeks. You will need to accomplish small wonders that there are no theories to account for.
VIRGO (Aug. 23-Sept. 22): My reading of your astrological omens suggests that you are now standing before three doors. The word "scapegoat" is written on door number one. "Chameleon" is on door two and "weaver" on door three. What you do in the next six days will determine whether you'll ultimately have a choice about which door you open. If you do succeed in winning that privilege, I advise you to pick the "weaver" door sometime after November 22. Selecting the "chameleon" door wouldn't be terrible, but it wouldn't be half as stimulating.
LIBRA (Sept. 23-Oct. 22): Recently I received a letter with testimony you might find helpful. "Hello, my name is Randall Xavier Ludwick," it began. "I am inspector number 23 for the Federal Commission on Amusement Park Safety. My main responsibility is to ensure that all 'You Must Be This Tall to Go on This Ride' signs are up to code. It's the perfect job for a major Libra like me. Since I can never make up my mind if left to my own devices, I decided to pursue a career that has rigid boundaries and also appeals to my sense of justice." Mr. Ludwick's approach to his indecisiveness might be worth imitating in the coming weeks, dear Libra. I suggest you put yourself in positions where you must adhere to crisply defined limits and rules. (Thanks to Edgar Roberts for introducing me to Mr. Ludwick.)
SCORPIO (Oct. 23-Nov. 21): You are fresh, radical, and as free as you've ever been. Only the ripest truths interest you. No pretty lies can trick you and no super-hyped trivia can distract you. I believe you're ready, therefore, to commune with the axioms of healing chaos, lifted from the Whores of Goddess Scientists website at adtriancain.tripod.com. Here's a sample: "You are the hidden God. Wake up in the dream. Read between the lies. To question is the answer. The frontline is everywhere. There are no innocent bystanders. Truth is a three-edged sword. Practice infinite tolerance except for intolerance. Achieve strength through joy. Embrace your shadow. Change is stability. Creation never ends. Everything is verb. The way in is the way out. All things fornicate all the time. The going is the goal. Today is the day!"
SAGITTARIUS (Nov. 22-Dec. 21): Walk into the hills or woods and find a large rock jutting up out of the earth in a place that makes you feel at home. Sit down on or next to that rock and let go of the tightly wound emotions you've been holding onto. Sob or sigh or babble until you achieve a spiritual orgasm that will clear your mind of all its gunk and free you to make the decision you've been postponing. Ever hereafter you will call this the Crying Rock, and you will go there whenever you need the kind of release that only a beloved natural power spot can facilitate.
CAPRICORN (Dec. 22-Jan. 19): If a friend or companion is pregnant, buy her some lingerie. If people close to you are depressed, take them to a karaoke bar and insist that they sing in public. If you're feeling cautious and superstitious, book a flight to an island paradise or learn to ride a motorcycle. If you're afraid you're running out of good ideas, start writing a booklet entitled, "My Inexhaustible Supply of Good Ideas." Are you catching my drift, Capricorn? To capitalize on the odd opportunities fate will bring you this week, you should definitely not go with the flow.
AQUARIUS (Jan. 20-Feb. 18): Many of you feel that you're only truly yourself if others see you as you want to be seen. But this week I suggest you try out a different perspective. It's hinted at by Suzan-Lori Parks in her play Topdog/Underdog: "Yr only yrself when no one's watching." Who are you when you're alone, Aquarius? Turn off your awareness of what everyone thinks about you. Listen only to the clues arising from your silent depths.
PISCES (Feb. 19-March 20):Back in the days when I could afford employees, one of them dreamed up a witty ad campaign for my expanded audio horoscopes. The headline was "Rob Brezsny's astrological advice is like Viagra for the soul!" A week after the first ads appeared, I got a letter from the lawyers of the pharmaceutical company that manufactures the real Viagra. "Cease and desist using our trademarked brand name," it said, "or we will sue your ass." (I'm paraphrasing.) My campaign came to a dead stop, and I vowed never again to borrow a corporate fetish for my own marketing purposes. Carefully, then, I make the following announcement: What life brings you in the coming weeks will be like Viagra for your soul.
Homework: The media love bad news because they think it's more interesting than good news. Is it? Send your interesting good news to me at beautyandtruth.com