ARIES (March 21-April 19): The German government sponsored a scientific study of dowsing, which is a form of magical divination used to locate underground sources of water. After 10 years, the chief researcher testified, "It absolutely works, beyond all doubt. But we have no idea why or how." An assertion like that might also apply to the mojo you'll have at your disposal, Aries, as you forge new alliances and bolster your web of connections in the coming weeks. I don't know how or why you'll be such an effective networker, but you will be.
TAURUS (April 20-May 20): The United States Congress spends an inordinate amount of time on trivial matters. For example, 16 per cent of all the laws it passed in the last two years were devoted to renaming post offices. That's down from the average of the previous eight years, during which time almost 20 per cent of its laws had the sole purpose of renaming post offices. In my astrological opinion, you Tauruses can't afford to indulge in anything close to that level of nonsense during the next four weeks. I urge you to keep time-wasting activities down to less than five per cent of your total. Focus on getting a lot of important stuff done. Be extra thoughtful and responsible as you craft the impact you're having on the world.
GEMINI (May 21-June 20): What if your unconscious mind has dreamed up sparkling answers to your raging questions but your conscious mind doesn't know about them yet? Is it possible you are not taking advantage of the sly wisdom that your deeper intelligence has been cooking up? I say it's time to poke around down there. It's time to take aggressive measures as you try to smoke out the revelations that your secret self has prepared for you. How? Remember your dreams, of course. Notice hunches that arise out of nowhere. And send a friendly greeting to your unconscious mind, something like, "I adore you and I'm receptive to you and I'd love to hear what you have to tell me."
CANCER (June 21-July 22): In his book Our Band Could Be Your Life, Michael Azerrad says that the Cancerian singer-songwriter Steve Albini is a "connoisseur of intensity." That means he's picky about what he regards as intense. Even the two kinds of music that are often thought of as the embodiment of ferocious emotion don't make the grade for Albini. Heavy metal is comical, he says, not intense. Hardcore punk is childish, not intense. What's your definition of intensity, Cancerian? I see the coming weeks as prime time for you to commune with the very best expressions of that state of being. Be a connoisseur of intensity.