By Steve Weinstein
By Devon Maloney
By Tessa Stuart
By Alison Flowers
By Albert Samaha
By Jesse Jarnow
By Eric Tsetsi
By Raillan Brooks
ARIES [March 21–April 19] I'm worried about your ability to fake and dissemble. These skills seem to have atrophied in you. To quote Homer Simpson, "You couldn't fool your own mother on the foolingest day of your life with an electrified fooling machine!" Please, Aries, jump back into the BS-dispensing routine the rest of us are caught up in. APRIL FOOL! Everything I just said was a filthy lie. In fact, I admire the candor and straightforwardness you've been cultivating. My only critique is that maybe you could take some of the edge off it. Try telling the raw truth with more relaxed grace.
TAURUS [April 20–May 20] You'll probably dream of falling off a cliff, or plunging out of a hot-air balloon. I'm very disappointed in your unconscious mind's decision to expose yourself to such unpleasant experiences, even if they are pretend. APRIL FOOL! I told you a half-truth. While it is likely that you will dream of diving off a mountaintop or tumbling out of a hot-air balloon, your unconscious mind has arranged it so that you will land softly and safely in a giant pile of foam padding and feathers next to a waterfall whose roaring flow is singing your name. Despite the apparent inconvenience in the first part of the dream, you will be taken care of by the end.
GEMINI [May 21–June 20] On Ghost Hunters, paranormal researchers investigate places thought to be haunted by supernatural entities. One commercial for the show urges the viewers to "Get fluent in fear!"—which happens to be perfect advice for you, Gemini. APRIL FOOL! I lied. This is not at all a good time for you to get fluent in fear. It's actually a momentous time to get un-fluent in fear. You have an unprecedented opportunity to stop casually exposing yourself to anxiety-inducing influences. You have amazing power to shut down that place in your imagination where you generate your scary fantasies. The conquest of your fears could be at hand!
CANCER [June 21–July 22] Your gambling chakra is conspiring with your inner roughneck to pull a fast one on your dignity chakra and your inner wuss. If they get away with their scheme, you may find yourself having ridiculous yet holy fun in high places. And I wouldn't be surprised if in the course of these hijinks, your spirit guides channeled some holistic karma into the part of your psychic anatomy that we in the consciousness business call your "spiritual orgy button." APRIL FOOL! Sorry if that sounded a bit esoteric. I was invoking some faux shamanic jargon in the hope of bypassing your rational mind and tricking you into experiencing a fizzy, buoyant altered state, which would be an excellent tonic for both your mental and physical health.
LEO [July 23–August 22] "I eat pressure for breakfast," says Leo-born James Cameron. Like many in your tribe, he has a very high opinion of himself. "Anybody can be a father or a husband," he told his fourth wife, Linda Hamilton. "There are only five people in the world who can do what I do, and I'm going for that." He's your role model. APRIL FOOL! I lied. While I do urge you to focus intensely on the quality or talent that's most special about you, I strongly discourage you from neglecting your more ordinary roles. In Cameron's case, I'd advise him to start working on his next fantastic project but also spiff up his skills as a husband and father.
VIRGO [August 23–September 22] Do NOT, under any circumstances, express your anger at the media by taking a baseball bat into a superstore and smashing 32 TV sets. Keep it to a minimum of 15 sets! APRIL FOOL! I lied. I don't recommend that you smash any TVs with a baseball bat. However, you do have permission to bash and smash things in your imagination. Engaging in a fantasy of breaking inanimate objects that symbolize what oppresses you will shatter a certain mental block that desperately needs shattering.
LIBRA [September 23–October 22] A curious vision popped into my mind's eye. I saw a scene of a perky possum in a superhero costume giving you a tray of red jello covered with marshmallows and chocolate kisses. And I knew immediately that it was a prime metaphor for your destiny right now. APRIL FOOL! I lied, sort of. Your imminent future may feature an unlikely offering from an unexpected source, but that offering will simply be like red jello from a possum—with no superhero costume, and no marshmallows, gumdrops, or chocolate kisses.
SCORPIO [October 23–November 21] I sincerely hope that 2010 will be the year you stop worshipping Satan. Despite the odd pleasures your twisted devotion to the Evil One seems to bring you, it actually undermines your ability to get what you want. The ironic fact of the matter is that pure unrepentant selfishness—the kind that Satan celebrates—is the worst possible way to achieve your selfish goals. APRIL FOOL! I know you don't really worship Satan. I was just hoping to jolt you into considering my real desire for you, which is to achieve your selfish goals by cultivating more unselfishness.