Taurus (April 20-May 20): To the flaming radical in me, the apocalypse is already under way -- courtesy of fundamentalist vipers, corporate feudalism, nihilistic media, and the virus of plutocracy. To the boundless mystic in me, on the other hand, everything's proceeding as it should. The greedy, fearful purveyors of the status quo are slowing down the flood of redemptive change just enough to prevent mass insanity. The weird thing is, I ultimately believe both these views are true. Which means I've passed F. Scott Fitzgerald's test of intelligence: "the capacity to hold conflicting ideas in the mind at the same time and continue to function." What about you, Taurus? Ready to live on the edge between future shock and the constraints of the past? The stars say that's your assignment.
Gemini (May 21-June 20): You Geminis are the shapeshifters of the zodiac. With an attention span that sometimes resembles a 9-year-old boy in dire need of his Ritalin, you can careen through more moods in an hour than most people do in a week. On the other hand, there's at least one way you're maddeningly consistent. I'm talking about how you're just so relentlessly, everlastingly cool. So devastatingly incapable of being boring. So unfailingly stylish and suave and smart-mouthed. I mean, let's meditate on this. Isn't it hazardous to your Gemini nature to be so damn steady? I urge you to rebel. To rise up and throw off the chains of your hipness. I say, celebrate this Halloween in the nerdiest costume possible.
Cancer (June 21-July 22): Your juicy astrological aspects impel me to predict that you're about to get laid ... and laid ... and laid. There's almost no chance you could screw this up -- unless you indulge in any of the following acts of insanity. 1) You tell amusing tales about how you used to enjoy bugging your ex. 2) You invite your lover to a fun weekend at your parents' house. 3) You offer to demonstrate how skilled you are at the art of obsession. 4) You insist that your partner help you act out a fantasy of doing it with Quentin Tarantino or Courtney Love. 5) In an effort to fine-tune your shtick for the Halloween bash, you wear your "Crazy Crab" costume everywhere you go.
Leo (July 23-Aug. 22): The red planet Mars, ruler of ardor, aspiration, and animal energy, is now gliding through the constellation of Leo the Lion. In the next few days it will appear to brush up against the bright star Regulus, which is the very heart of the lion. I take this to be a symbolic signal that you'll be blessed with bursts of sublime zeal whenever you nurture ambitions that are driven by your heart, not by your ego.
Virgo (Aug. 23-Sept. 22): Are you all alone in a world oozing with danger and betrayal? Or are you surrounded by helpers in a beautiful world that never gives you more of a challenge than you can handle? Trick question! The answer, of course, is: It depends to some degree on your attitude. Which leads me to my next query: Can you learn how to live more full time in the world of helpers? Trick question! The answer is: It depends to some degree on whether you believe you can.
Libra (Sept. 23-Oct. 22): "Follow your bliss and the money will come." I believed that quixotic slogan from the moment I first heard it many years ago. And I continued to cling to it even during those long, lean eons when I was following my bliss like a madman and cooking my twice-a-day rice and beans on a hot plate in my one-room shack. Now, at last, having graduated to more sumptuous digs and a more varied diet, I've acquired the wisdom to know that my beloved slogan is incomplete. It should read, "Follow your bliss and the money will come -- although it might take 10 or 15 years." That, my financially ripe friend, is your thought for the week.
Scorpio (Oct. 23-Nov. 21): For your birthday I'm offering you an eight-month supply of divine intervention. Your first gift, a brand-new biological clock, will arrive by Nov. 17. By mid-January you'll hazard upon a legal high that'll allow you to dispense with a legal low. By Feb. 21, a magic finger will erase the noxious writing on the wall, and in March an old flame will deliver a hot tip. In April you'll win a guerrilla skirmish with the global economy, and this should lead you to an even more convincing victory by June.
Sagittarius (Nov. 22-Dec. 21): To celebrate and propitiate the sexy, mischievous Halloween spirit, I dare you to whisper the following sweet nothings in the ears of anyone who needs to see more of the boisterous magician in you: 1) "Corrupt me with your purity, baby; beguile me with your honesty." 2) "You'll never quench my ever-deepening thirsts -- but then I don't expect you to." 3) "I've learned that the secret to eternal happiness is being easily amused. Would you like me to teach you?" 4) "Let's put on untied Army boots and lock lips in the middle of the road to Oz."
Capricorn (Dec. 22-Jan. 19): Why waste the robust Halloween vibes merely on pulling off a tour de force at work? I mean you could eat your competitors for breakfast and make a killing in the marketplace by noon every day. But why not also channel your champion's instincts into the fun-and-games department? I would love to see you master the art of useful frivolity. And I'd be ever so happy if you'd cultivate a craftsmanlike passion for lighthearted sex. At least for now, it won't hurt to have the soul of an investment banker and the heart of a poet.
Aquarius (Jan. 20-Feb. 18): Few would contest the idea that abusive fathers create wounded kids. But Robert Bly speaks of another kind of cruelty: absence. Dads who rarely show up at home or who withhold their best energy, he says, leave children with holes in their souls. And into those holes, sooner or later, stream demons. Maybe a few of you Aquarians had a doting papa who gave you the same vitality he gave his job. But if you did, you're as rare as a woman in the boardroom of a Fortune 500 company. For all you other Aquarians, this is prime time not just to confront the wound bequeathed you by your father, but to begin some serious healing. To kick the process into high gear, I suggest you costume yourself as dear old Dad this Halloween.
Pisces (Feb. 19-March 20): While meditating on your horoscope, I had a dreamy vision of you on a mountaintop. You were preaching a divine doctrine to an excited crowd. As you raved on about a burning bush and a shimmering angel and a smashed window and a spray-painted Barbie doll, I sensed that you had had a spiritual revelation. What does my vision mean? It could simply be my subconscious mind's way of advising you to costume yourself as a hierophant or priestess this Halloween. But I suspect it could also indicate you're in prime time for a religious revival.