TAURUS (April 20-May 20): Some astrologers theorize that there's an undiscovered planet called Vulcan, whose orbit is inside that of Mercury. Because it's so close to the sun, scientists haven't detected it. In ancient Roman mythology, Vulcan was the god of metalworking. He made tools for himself and the other gods which were renowned for both their usefulness and beauty. The astrologers who propose the existence of the planet Vulcan say it's the ruler of Taurus. It so happens that you're poised to channel Vulcan’s influence with maximum strength in the coming weeks. Try visualizing yourself wielding controlled fire to forge beautiful and useful things for you and your powerful allies.
GEMINI (May 21-June 20): Each year the science magazine Annals of Improbable Research awards Ig Nobel Prizes to imaginative eccentrics. A prize in chemistry was once given to researchers who discovered that romantic infatuation is biochemically indistinguishable from obsessive-compulsive disorder. Other prizes have gone to the "Stalin World" amusement park, software that can detect a cat walking on a computer keyboard, and a report on "Courtship Behavior of Ostriches Toward Humans Under Farming Conditions." I'd give you an Ig Nobel Prize for what you're about to do, which will fulfill one of the main criteria for winning: pulling off an entertaining feat that first makes people laugh, then makes them think.
CANCER (June 21-July 22): Do you have a lucky number? Many people do. Some decide on theirs by choosing a number that figured prominently in one of their life's turning points. Others arrive at it by adding the digits of their birth date or by taking the numerological value of their name. So-called "master numbers" such as 22, 33, and 55 are favorites, too. I have two special numbers: 23 zillion and 3.1415926, the value of pi. I hope this whets your imagination. Your fortunes are in the process of changing, and it would be a good time to pick a new lucky number. I’d also seek out a new power animal, initiation name and talismanic symbol.
LEO (July 23-Aug. 22): The most dangerous frame of mind for you to inhabit in the next six weeks — the state of awareness that would be most harmful to your long-term interests — would be utter certainty. You cannot afford to be a know-it-all who's fixated on a set of seemingly foolproof theories. On the other hand, if you're willing to question everything you think you know, robust health and emotional wealth will surely be yours. Here's a ritual to set the mood: Put angel food cake and devil's food cake on a plate, then take five bites of each while intoning the affirmation, "I am hungry for the kaleidoscopic, chameleonlike, unimaginable truth."
VIRGO (Aug. 23-Sept. 22): My Aquarian and Sagittarian friends are the best laughers I know; they laugh longer and more frequently than most. They also tend to chortle at ironies that others take way too seriously. Best of all, their laughs are works of art: sudden, explosive, wild, and uncanny. I believe you're entering a phase when you'll have the potential to mutate into an Aquarian- or Sagittarian-style laugher. Please explore the untapped depths of your sense of humor. Give your laughter the chance to grow dramatically in its power to heal both you and everyone who is sprayed with the saliva flung out during your paroxysms of primal amusement.
LIBRA (Sept. 23-Oct. 22): Last year the Boston Globe ran 901 corrections of previously published information. In other words, it averaged 17.3 acknowledged mistakes per week. The Chicago Tribune's total was 658, or 12.7 errors per week. Even though your blooper rate will be higher than usual in the coming days, it won't come anywhere near theirs. Even at your most flub-prone, you'll still be more perfect than two of America's most respected newspapers. To minimize flak from insensitive critics, you should borrow the Globe's or Tribune's approach. You can get away with a lot if "I confess" or "I'm sorry" is always on the tip of your tongue.
SCORPIO (Oct. 23-Nov. 21): Arunothai Sriaran is Thailand's new "Miss Drunk." She won the title after gulping down too much wine and navigating her way through an obstacle course while wearing a heavy silk dress and golden headgear. In the insouciant spirit of this wicked fun, and in accordance with your current astrological omens, I hereby name you "Ms. (or Mr.) Drunk on Life." Your carefree and mischievously benevolent reign will last for either three weeks or until you stop learning new tricks about the art of being intelligently wild, whichever comes last.
SAGITTARIUS (Nov. 22-Dec. 21): You're progressing nicely in your efforts to master life's most complicated skills. For instance, you're making better and better mistakes all the time. You're getting pretty good at being three places at once; with every passing month you know more about using your fears to motivate you so they won't paralyze you. What you'd benefit from most right now, though, is a refresher course in the simplest fundamentals. You still have a lot to learn about how to sleep and eat. And it's not too far-fetched to say that you could use some breathing lessons. For that matter, you're not exactly a Ph.D. in the art of happiness. I suggest you sniff around to see if there are any crafty elders offering workshops on how to regard everything that comes your way as a blessing.
CAPRICORN (Dec. 22-Jan. 19): Forget about the 900-pound gorilla problem; you've got it pretty much neutralized for now. I suggest you turn your attention to the 3-gram hummingbird dilemma: you know, the beautiful little bundle of nonstop energy darting around like neon fire. Please keep in mind that the brave forcefulness you summoned to deal with the gorilla may not be of much help in this fresh challenge. Try tuning in to your inner hummingbird.
AQUARIUS (Jan. 20-Feb. 18): "The elephant never gets tired of carrying its tusks," says a proverb of the Vai tribe in Liberia. I suggest you make that a central meditation in the coming week. Maybe it'll inspire you to intensify your commitment to the duties that make you so unique and beautiful. Do not, however, interpret the proverb to mean you should keep hauling around toxic emotions that you generated while neurotically slaving away at obnoxious duties in the distant past. They not only weaken and uglify you, they're also unnecessary.
PISCES (Feb. 19-March 20): The average Pisces catches 147 colds in a lifetime, endures a serious case of hurt feelings three times a month and fantasizes about the end of the world once every 6.2 days. I predict, however, that you will experience none of the above during the coming weeks. You're slipping into a grace period that may shock you with its ease, beauty and abundance. It will be a time when your innocence regenezrates and your wisdom freshens; a seed time when your determination to feel good will trump your habitual tendencies to expect the worst; a time of awakening when your perceptions will deepen and expand even as the world is created anew right in front of your eyes. Want to know more about my book, The Televisionary Oracle? Check out
