Taurus (April 20-May 20): Each year we all enjoy a precious few days in which none of the planets makes a single aspect to any other. On those special occasions, the planetary gods have a reduced power to whip your fate this way and that; your willpower has more room than usual in which to maneuver. In 1998, there are just two such holidays: Aug. 18 and Nov. 2. But I believe you Tauruses will feel as if you have many more than that. Why? Because you'll have an almost spooky dearth of karma to deal with. For the next 12 months, "Liberation" is your middle name.
Gemini (May 21-June 20): I am now under the spell of an enchantress who has bewitched me with her sublime gorgeousness. I'm sure you understand, Gemini. My reading of the astrological aspects tells me that you too must be in a lather over an acutely cute creature. Would you like to plagiarize the love note I just gave my heroine? Steal away. "I want you and me to put on shower caps and climb a hill at dusk in the January drizzle to stage a water balloon fight while singing songs from West Side Story. I want to play strip Scrabble with you in a Malaysian treehouse while tigers boink below. When summer comes, I want to dress up as teen-age hoodlums and hunt for pet grasshoppers in a dandelion meadow next to a trailer park while chanting passages from the Bhagavad Gita."
Cancer (June 21-July 22): With each passing day, your beauty is becoming less of a secret. Your gifts are increasingly irresistible, and your skills are ever more indispensable. Your lips seem incredibly kissable, and your hands radiate the power of sexual healing. Even now, old lovers who dumped you are suffering pangs of regret. Former collaborators are fantasizing about how they might win your favor again. In short, Cancerian, your mojo is turned up all the way, and people are starting to pant and drool. Sounds dreamy, except for this one potential problem: Will you promise so much to so many that you'll forget what you yourself want?
Leo (July 23-Aug. 22): A few weeks ago, a woman named Karen Hartley got lost after sundown at a Utah ski resort. All night long she sang and danced to remain warm and keep her spirits up. When her rescuers found her the next morning, she was performing the Bee Gees' "Stayin' Alive," complete with Travolta-style disco moves. Why am I telling you this, Leo? Because while I don't think you're in danger of getting lost in an actual wilderness, I do fear for the bleak and frigid conditions that currently prevail in your eternal soul. In my opinion you need to raise the temperature in there with a friendly shock. A dusk-till-dawn marathon of wild warbling and insane shimmying might do the trick.
Virgo (Aug. 23-Sept. 22): A partially sucked cough drop could play an important role in launching a romantic adventure this week. Same with a painting of dogs playing poker or an anecdote about a bratwurst-eating contest: Either could catalyze a melodramatic comedy featuring tons of love; or maybe not. All I know is that an unexpected and seemingly minor tweak of fate will instigate a fun and mysterious encounter with amour very soon.
Libra (Sept. 23-Oct. 22): Mel Blanc, the voice of Bugs Bunny, was allergic to carrots. John Wayne, cowboy supreme, was afraid of horses. If we are to believe the reports of his leading ladies, screen hunk Harrison Ford can't kiss worth a damn. And you, Libra? Is your persona, or public image, in close alignment with your deepest inner self? Or are there flagrant discrepancies that are embarrassing to contemplate? If it's the latter, now is prime time to make corrections.
Scorpio (Oct. 23-Nov. 21): If you're a flexible and persuasive warrior with extensive training in the communication wars, this will be a triumphant week. Your intelligence-gathering apparatus will be working like a dream. Your credibility as a spokesperson will be soaring. The gross gossipers who've opposed your interests will be in retreat. I don't know if Allah or Jehovah is on your side, but the messenger god Mercury definitely is. Call on him to cover your flanks while you knock out enemy hype with a hail of propaganda bombs. (If you're not a flexible and persuasive warrior with extensive training in the communication wars, this'll be a great week to earn your stripes.)
Sagittarius (Nov. 22-Dec. 21): It would be a good week to romance the neglected spouses of corporate executives to pry loose insider stock tips. But there are probably easier, less sneaky ways to boost your finances by using the power of love. And that, after all, is what the cosmos would really like to encourage you to do right now. How about if you ask some VIP to pay you for doing a task you really enjoy? Draw up a seductive proposal.
Capricorn (Dec. 22-Jan. 19): Now that you're in the seedtime of your astrological cycle, it's the perfect moment for you to hear about Albert Hirschman's principle of the "hiding hand": If you knew in advance all the obstacles you were going to face in the course of a project you were just beginning, you'd never attempt it in the first place. Your basic human makeup includes a mental mechanism that conceals difficulties so that you can dare great projects. Equally unpredictable as the problems, however, is the "hiding hand of assistance." You can't possibly imagine all the help that'll come your way to boost you past the unexpected hardships.
Aquarius (Jan. 20-Feb. 18): Uh-oh. It's one of the most Zen-like weeks of the decade. I feel a cryptic gush of nonsense wisdom coming on. Better stop reading unless you enjoy having your brain washed by lunatic poetry! Last chance to bail out! Gravity sucks! Put your faith in the Zen of temper tantrums! Global warming in your pants is coming soon! Dream work will prevent the genocide of the imagination! Everyone who believes in the devil is the devil! Commit crimes that don't break any laws! Lust globally, make love locally! If I can figure out the difference between wise pain and dumb pain, you can too! Thou shalt not bore the Goddess! No one believes you, so you must be right! Forever and ever, amen and halle-frigging-lujah!
Pisces (Feb. 19-March 20): Graduation day has finally arrived. You've wrestled chaos into submission. You've more or less mastered the system that once upon a time threatened to shatter you into a million fragments. So are you ready to accept your big reward? I hope so. I hope you won't let your fear of success cheat you out of your hard-earned fruits. On the other hand, I think you should know that the reward will probably change your life more dramatically than even your struggle to win it has done.