Showing posts with label THE EMPIRE STRIKES BACK. Show all posts
Showing posts with label THE EMPIRE STRIKES BACK. Show all posts

Friday, February 5, 2010

Horoscopes & The Fifth Moon of Vesuvius

Even though I know that no good will come of it, I read my horoscope nearly every day. I’ve been doing this since I was a “night-watchman” back in Kansas City. Then, at the end of my shift, a large truck from the Kansas City Star would lumber down the street and fling a stack of newspapers near my guardhouse. I’d shuffle out, Camel cigarette firmly clenched between my lips, and gather them up for all the big-wigs.

Of course, before they got their papers I’d read the sections that interested me. The front page, A&E, and the daily cartoons. This was how my day began and my night ended.

I’ve always found it a bit insulting that the brain-trusts who run the newspapers think the horoscope belongs next to the cartoons. Horoscopes are bullshit whereas the latest “Foxtrot” is not. Sure they’re both for “entertainment” I suppose…but come on they’re not even in the same league.

Horoscopes suck and are pointless.

Like all good "psychic" cons, horoscopes contain vague generalities that could mean virtually anything. They’re the prognostic equivalent of a Rorschach blot. Or, if you fancy STAR WARS—the scary cave on Dagobah where Luke faces his demons (and a vision of Darth Vader).

“What’s in there?” Luke asks before entering.

“Only what you take with you,” Yoda replies.

Still, I can't help but read them every day.

I guess I read the horoscopes because at heart I’m an eternal optimist. I keep thinking, “today’s the day there’s going to be something in here I can use.”

But there never is.

Anyway, I’m a Cancer--whatever the hell that even means.

Jason is a Cancer

Here’s a typical Cancer horoscope:

The crab seeks to hide in his/her shell today. The Fifth Moon of Vesuvius enters your Love House this week, so expect a great surprise that may not surprise you all that much. Enjoying fine food and friends coax the hermit-crab, but only briefly! If you aren’t in a committed relationship you soon will be! And if you are in a committed relationship expect to stay in it for some time to come!

Now let’s examine this, shall we? First off, someone a long time ago decided that people born in June are crabs. I don’t get this at all. Is June Crab-Month? Has it really always been Crab-Month and no one’s told me? Because crabs are seen as "loner" creatures that carry shells around, Cancers are somehow supposed to all be anti-social and like to stay home (so far this is fits me, actually). I refuse to believe that ALL people who are “Cancers” really fit this description.

Then this “fifth Moon of Vesuvius” thing comes ups.

Always some large galactic body is swooping into one of my “houses” to create either trouble or love (and sometimes, troubling love). I think this feeds our need to be the center of the universe (literally). The Fifth Moon of Vesuvius is entering MY house! Please, give me a break.

This next part, “expect a great surprise that may not surprise you all that much” is truly classic horoscope writing. This says nothing if you read it carefully (and are awake and paying attention as you read it). The next line talks about food and friends “coaxing the crab” out, which of course must happen—people run out of food and must go get more.

I wish I had a cheeseburger garden in my backyard so I wouldn’t have to leave the house, but I don't...nice predicting there horoscope!

But it’s the last bit that pisses me off because it’s so ridiculous—the horoscope itself is supposed to be written for Cancers, and yet this thing can’t decide if I’m in a relationship or not. So the horoscope covers its bases by saying “heck! If you are, then this…and if you’re not, then this!”

This is lazy predicting/forecasting/prognosticating of EPIC proportions.

Just for once I’d like to see a super-specific horoscope. Sure, it wouldn’t appeal to as many people…but the people that it DID apply to would be astounded.

For example, here is a horoscope that I would write:

John, you shouldn’t have eaten that burrito last night! You’re going to fart in the elevator and Melissa is going to smell it. Melissa, the cute girl from accounting! Take the stairs John, take them ALL DAY LONG. Also, your goldfish Andy is sick because the Fifth Moon of Vesuvius is in your Pet-Sickness House. Pick up some Goldfish medicine after work for him! Also, you’re not in a relationship and you won’t be until you shave that stupid mustache.