Free Will Astrology

SAGITTARIUS (NOV. 22-DEC. 21): "Dear Rob: Two years ago I had intimate relations with a mountain. I was driving toward the Cascades when I became aware of a physical longing for Bonanza Peak, which lay ahead of me. As I got closer, I rolled down the windows and sucked in the cool air. I had the exact same sensation as loving someone so deeply that breathing in their breath fills me with erotic images and naughty tingles and lusty compassion. I thought you should know. ­Earth Lover" Dear Earth Lover: Thanks for your testimony. It's the perfect message for Sagittarians to hear right now, so I'm advising them to learn from your example.

CAPRICORN (DEC. 22-JAN. 19): There's a connection between Al Qaeda and actor Kevin Bacon, according to Tatsuya Ishida at Al Qaeda was trained by the CIA, he says, which was established by President Harry Truman, who dropped the atom bomb which was cooked up by the Manhattan Project, which was the name of a movie starring John Lithgow, who was in the film "Footloose" with Kevin Bacon. I invite you to make liberal of this kind of logic in the coming days, Capricorn. The astrological omens say it will be healthy for you to let your imagination run away with you as long as you don't take as gospel truth all the conclusions it leads you to. So please feel free to ramble down the fine line between creative storytelling and total BS.

AQUARIUS (JAN. 20-FEB. 18): When your plane takes off and the flight attendants give you their lecture on what to do in case of emergency, they remind you that "your nearest exit may be behind you." That's good advice for you to keep in mind during the coming week, Aquarius. I don't mean to imply that you'll be facing some literal danger that will require you to make a quick escape. What I do suggest is that you remove yourself, at least temporarily, from a certain process that's barreling full-speed ahead. The best way to do it is to go backward, into the past, or in reverse.

PISCES (FEB. 19-MARCH 20): When I went to a hard-core rock festival recently, all but one of the bands made abundant use of the f-word. They invoked it so often, both in their songs and between-song patter, that it got boring. The lone group that departed from the norm did express gleeful rage, but it was with a phrase I rarely hear anymore. "I don't give a damn," the singer shouted at the end of one song. I chuckled at the archaic modesty of the expression, but it stayed with me more than the histrionics the other bands preferred. That brings me to the advice I have for you, Pisces: Get to the root of your anger and then render it with an understated craft that sets it apart from the overwrought venting that everyone has grown numb to.

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