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I was raised by a Sagittarius, a distinction few people claim (or at least fewer than the amount of people raised by Tauruses or Cancers or Pisces or just about anyone, because Sagittarius is the kind of parent who’s likely to get lost in some Quest or Cause or Ideology and forget to parent or abdicate parenting or be somehow isolated from parenting for long periods) because Sagittarius is notoriously…not unreliable, but what looks like it to the more earthbound. If you are familiar with Philip Pullman’s His Dark Materials trilogy or the eponymous TV series, you will recognize in…


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Ah, Virgo. Season of change, season of tenderness, where one of only two human figures of the zodiac pulls us from Fixed Fire (Leo) into Cardinal Air (Libra) and all the change the season brings. Virgo’s Mutable Earth is the hardest to understand, because mutability is movement and how can earth shift? Shut your eyes. This is a process that cannot be seen, a change “vaster than empires and more slow.” It is imperceptible from the outside, yes, but profound: nothing is more changeable than earth, whose very essence lacks the constancy of water, whose special property is to transmogrify…


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I need to apologize to my Cancers.

You know how you always remember every slight, every grievance, and I roll my eyes? You know how I always tell you you hold on too tightly to your emotional problems? How you don’t update your emotional files so you’re still bringing up that bad fashion choice someone upset you with or that moral judgment you made in 1996? …


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The Vernal Equinox is more than just the moment when day and night teeter on a momentarily equal balance. The Vernal Equinox is the moment when the astrological year ends and begins again, and thus when the two most different signs of the zodiac meet.

Pisces, Mutable water, the “old man” of all the signs, the Fish, swimmer in two directions, comprehender of infinity, embodier of compassion and acceptance and the infinite variety of shades of suffering and hues of beauty, slips into Aries, Cardinal fire, the baby of the zodiac, the Ram, charger forth into the unknown, brash bearer…


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Oh, Sagittarius. We think of you as the Archer, a centaur soaring with muscular beauty through the sky, farseeing, wise. We think of your arrows as pointing in a direction. Like the lampposts in Narnia, ushering us into new countries that need our courage and our belief.

We often fail to realize that you can also be a weathercock, perched on the top of a crumbling roof, swinging dizzily in the wind, your arrow spinning and tilting and possibly, in a hearty gale, even flinging you briefly into the sky, only to crash, rusted and bent, into the late Autumn…


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Scorpio is misunderstood.

People say Scorpio is like a heat-seeking missile of sexy, dangerous mind control. People say Scorpio is vengeful, vindictive, vixenish. People say Scorpio is obsessed with the dark side. People say Scorpio plays to win and to the death. People say Scorpio will sting you when you’re not looking and they will always know exactly where you’re most vulnerable (this is because Scorpio gathers intel like Aquarius gathers knickknacks). People say Scorpio can’t be trusted.

None of these things are, strictly speaking, incorrect. Except for the last one. You can trust Scorpio, if Scorpio deems you’re worthy…


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I’m pretty sure that Linda Goodman’s classic book on astrology makes the following claim: a Libra can melt a chocolate bar with their smile at thirty paces. And I’m almost as sure that it notes that a Libra can tell you they hate you with a smile on their face and somehow you won’t even be offended.

Neither of these statements is false. Libras are legendary for their grace and charm, for their beauty and willingness to please. But all that really means is that those born under this sign are legendary for their facility with illusion. If you actually…


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“All happy families are alike; each unhappy family is unhappy in its own way.” You remember the line. It’s Tolstoy, the Virgo-iest of Virgo writers, he of the interminable and minute descriptions, he also of the pithy and blinding truths. This is Virgo. Like that old saw about the Inuit having 36 words for snow, Virgo has 36 words for discomfort, each precisely and clearly defined, and woe betide ye who choose the wrong one, unless you enjoy A Helpful and Exhaustive Dissertation on Why That Is Not Quite Exactly It. …


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Leos. If there were one single person in history who embodies what it means to be a Leo, it would be Napoleon (Bonaparte, France’s first emperor, that famously tiny and domineering little bossman who gave us such gems as “If you want something done well, do it yourself,” “Stupidity is no handicap in politics,” and “He who fears being conquered is sure of defeat,” as well as the title of this article, which was how the Emperor defined history). And if there is any one sign for whom this remarkable consistency of bravado, of charisma, of brilliance, and of sheer…


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(CN: SA)

Yeah, I know. When you hear that phrase, you’re probably thinking about certainly unfortunately documented incidents in Russia. Wrong president, wrong micturition, my friend. Wrest your mind from the gutter and prepare to go back in time. Not only because we’ve all heard way too much about the wet yellow memories of our current head of state, but because going back in time is what Cancer does: Cancer is the Zodiac’s historian, the Pied Piper of Memory, the Documentarian of Distress, and both proof and proponent of the fact that nobody outruns the past. (Anyone who’s ever been…

Genève Chao

author of one of us is wave one of us is shore (Otis), Hillary Is Dreaming (Make Now), and émigré (Tinfish). Based in Los Angeles.

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