By LEE ARNOLD
Considering how far off it was, I started reading more into the horoscopes on the page trying to figure out when I should have been born. It turns out I shouldnÃÂt have been born at all, if you believe the horoscope writers. I just didn’t fit in anywhere.
The attributes of every sign were cheery, bubbly and reeked of optimism.
For examples those born in the sign of Aries are “enthusiastic, alert, outspoken, strong-willed and creative.”
Those under Taurus are “practical, methodical, determined, patient, honest dependable and a good team player.” Leos are “spontaneous, gregarious, independent and born to lead.”
Even those under the sign of Cancer, perhaps the worst name for an astrological sign ever, are “imaginative, dramatic, philosophical, nurturing and protective.”
Where are the dim-witted, anti-social, careless, impatient, loud-mouthed dregs of society supposed to fit in? I have never, ever, read a horoscope that told the truth.
Just one day, I want to get up, read the paper and read something that says, “SAGITARIUS (Nov. 11-Dec. 21) — Today is going to suck just as much as yesterday and tomorrow will likely be no better. Your attitude toward life is your main problem, and it makes the people around you hate you. You would be better off if you moved away and started over in some country where the people don’t even speak English, because the words that come out of your mouth are so mean spirited that you will never get ahead in this society. Your rotten teeth are a perfect match for your soul. We sincerely hope you like the heat, because once you leave this lifetime, you are going to have quite a while to swelter in a lake of fire with all of your so-called friends.”
Now that’s a horoscope that hits close to home, as I’m sure it does for a whole lot of other people out there. It even points out the fact that I am going to go to Hell for reading my horoscope. You can’t beat that kind of honesty. I don’t even get that from my tarot cards when I play with them every Friday night after my Wicca meeting with the fine folks at the Order of the Rising Phoenix (Just kidding of course. I need to clarify that so I donÃÂt get burned at the stake while roaming around the county one night. Then again, it could be true. I’m not going to say for sure. That’s just how mean spirited I am.)
My point is that we are not all happy, cheery and bubbling over with optimism.
Many of us, like me, look at life through spray painted sunglasses. We really don’t want to see what’s going on out there because we know it’s bad and it’s just too darn depressing.
We curl up on the couch, watch a schedule of television shows that does not contain news broadcasts, and try our best to block out the rest of the world.
I think the writers of horoscopes need to take that more into consideration when writing this crap to be published in newspapers and web sites all over the nation.
For all you Capricorns with your “rock-solid, dependable, responsible, highly organized, goal-oriented, logical and clever,” attitudes, there are thousands of us “irresponsible, unorganized, not-so-bright people who still eat paste straight from the jar like when they were in kindergarten,” people out here trying our best to just live until we have to die.
For the record, the writer of the horoscope claimed that I would be best suited for a career in sales, public relations, social administration or theology. I can’t imagine anything that could be any more distant from the truth.
I think I would be best suited for a career in property repossessions, law, sports event referee, drug enforcement agent (never a welcomed sight at the party), the guy who works for the government who tells people that the their land is being taken for the greater good of the community, and bowling pin setter.
You might have noticed that first jobs in that list are those that inspire hatred and feelings of ill will. The bowling pin setter was added just because that’s about all of the job skills I really possess — the ability to make self standing objects stand upright.
But alas, the horoscope writer apparently never thought of those professions for me. So once, again I am left confused, bewildered and straight up verklempt at where I am in life and just where it is I’m supposed to be going.
Thanks for the help guys.
The Lincoln Journal Online – Lee Arnold – Lair of the Poison Pen