Hoboscopes: May 8, 2024

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TAURUS

I used to hate that thing where the guitarist smashes the guitar during the big emotional finale of the show. I mean, what about the person who made the guitar? I’d imagine them painstakingly crafting every detail. What beautiful wonder might this guitar accomplish? What songs might be written and played? And now it’s letting out its final whine as it’s beaten over the edge of an amp and a crowd cheers for its destruction. But nowadays, Taurus, I think there’s lots of great reasons to smash a guitar. It’s a powerful tool. A finite object. And some objects reach their greatest purpose when they fall to bits in the name of human freedom. What are you protecting that might better serve the world in pieces?

GEMINI

I guess I’m flying home for my cousin’s wedding this weekend. Sorry, Gemini, I know I don’t exactly sound excited. It’s not that I don’t want to see everybody, it’s just always a little more complicated than I wish it was. I don’t like dressing up. (I think the “no shorts” in the invitation was just about me.) I don’t like lining up for another picture with “just the nephews this time!” I don’t like it when my Aunt Trudy asks how my “astronomy” is going. But even in the midst of all that, I’ve learned to find moments of real connection. And that’s all anybody is really doing, Gemini. Meet me by the cheese tray and we can pretend we didn’t hear the speeches starting.

CANCER

I think if I won the lottery the first thing I’d do is buy you a house, Cancer. The next thing I’d do is ask if I can crash on your couch for a few days while I figure out what to do with my life. I used to think money would fix all my problems, but now I see that it would only fix a few of them. I’d still have to do the rest of the work myself. And since neither of us won the lottery, Cancer, it sounds like the first thing we need — once we’ve got a roof over our heads — is each other.

LEO

Did you see that?! Right there in the grass, Leo, it’s slithering toward the bushes. It gives me a shiver every time! But then my thinking-brain kicks-in and I realize that it’s just an old ratsnake heading in to work. Maybe he’s just passing through. Maybe he’s here cause we’ve got mice in the compost again. In any case, Leo, I know that my initial fear isn’t anything to act on. Not everything we’re afraid of needs to be dealt with. Sometimes a fear just needs to be acknowledged and left to slither on by.

VIRGO

This morning I started my car and there was a new light blinking on the dash. Now, I know my dash lights, Virgo. I’ve seen the one with the “E” that means I’m out of gas and I’ve seen the one with the “(!)” that means my tires are low. I’ve even seen the one with the oil can that means pull over, stop the car, and call an Uber. But this one was just a flashing yellow light that said “Forgive.” Keep an eye out for that one, Virgo. Sometimes we wait too long.

LIBRA

Brains are weird, Libra. Like, when you read the words “Hey Jude” or “Sweet Caroline” or “Baby Shark” a song will just instantly start playing in your head. You don’t even have to try. But if you showed those phrases to somebody from 100 years ago, they would see the words without hearing any song at all. Your brain is loaded with all kinds of these connections, Libra. Not just the musical ones. When you notice yourself having a bigger response to a phrase or idea than the person next to you, remember that you might have a different context than they do. Or maybe they’re just from 100 years ago.

SCORPIO

I had a dream that we were at the airport, Scorpio. It was you and me and…well, I can’t remember exactly, but it was somebody you were really glad to see. And the two of you were talking and laughing and having a great time sitting at the gate while I was pacing around worried that we were going to miss an announcement about our flight. Anyway, I just thought I should tell you that when I woke up I was really glad that you’d gotten to spend some good time with your good friend. And I wanted you to know that you didn’t miss anything. The plane we were all waiting on was never as important as being there together while we waited.

SAGITTARIUS

I’ve never gone into one of those carnival “hall-of-mirrors” things. A maze of endless repetitions of my own self just never particularly appealed to me. Plus, in the movies, nothing good ever happens in those. It’s all just shards and screams and cackling hallucinations. Still, I do think taking a good hard look at oneself can be valuable. Even if it’s just in one mirror at a time, Sagittarius, it might be a good day to see who’s looking back at you.

CAPRICORN

When my uncle Ptolemy finally retired from the hubcap factory, I was afraid he wouldn’t have enough to do. But apparently he’s gotten very into model trains. He just showed me his basement, where he’s built an extensive scale model of this entire area. He’s even got a model of the tracks out by your place, Capricorn. And a tiny model of you sitting down and reading this. My uncle Ptolemy is extremely detail-oriented. Anyway, Capricorn, I hope this week you’ll spend more time on the things that interest you most. You can’t work at the hubcap factory forever.

AQUARIUS

There’s no such thing as bad publicity. At least, that’s what the guy at the sunglasses booth in the mall shouted when I asked him if he could please take down the picture of me wearing only a towel and squinting out my bathroom window, looking confused. But apparently I signed something when I tried on those Aviators that says they can use my image for any “Before” pictures and they don’t need my permission to hide outside my house and bang on my walls. This can’t be legal, Aquarius. Still, it’s a good reminder that you’re worth more than how you might look in a random photograph on any given day. And don’t forget to read the small print.

PISCES

I’ve been receiving some complaints lately, Pisces, and I just wanted to let you know that I’m hearing you. I get it. You come to me for laser-accurate astrological wisdom and lately you feel like you’re just getting vague platitudes and overloaded metaphors. But when I look to The Stars, Pisces, all I can do is report what I see. And if you can’t find a way to ride these molten waves of wisdom to the diamond-crusted beach of understanding, I’ll just have to keep finding new ways to tell you the cherry-truth at the center of the cosmic-lollipop: You’ve already got what you need.

ARIES

Sometimes I imagine what my life might be like as an insect. After a long unmemorable larvahood, I emerge from my pupal shell, finally able to stretch out the wings that I’ve always known I have, but could never quite realize. The wings beat rapidly, as if independent, and I soar through the air for the first time in my tiny, crunchy life. I finally know exactly what I was meant for. Funny that it seems harder to be a soft, wingless human. Each time we discover a new purpose, it gets so quickly complicated, Aries. So I’m just dropping in to say that I think your endless metamorphoses are each beautiful and each complete.

Mr. Mysterio is not a licensed astrologer, a registered dashboard mechanic, or a trained wedding DJ. Listen to the Mr. Mysterio podcast at mrmysterio.com Or just give him a call at 707-VHS-TAN1

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