Monday, 14 July 2008


In my honest, yet immaculately-attired opinion, horoscope columns are a load of bunk, just like any other astrological pagan nonsense. The only star that has any bearing on my life is our own yellow Sun, which grants me my Superman-of-Reviewing powers and wakes me up when it’s time for elevenses. As far as I’m concerned, having Saturn in my ascendance isn’t going to affect the number of rejection letters I get from national publications, or whether people know what I mean when I use the word ‘elevenses’. But I wouldn’t be the Imaginary Reviewer if I didn’t investigate things with strict impartiality, so I will put all these feelings to one side when I conduct this comparative review of different horoscopes.

I chose several journals at random and noted down the horoscopes that lay within them. This approach rendered paying for the magazines unnecessary, and meant that I didn’t have to spend any time in the library, which smells of old people. I then compared the horoscopes with the actual events that occurred in that week. Here are my results.

Firstly, the horoscopes in The Weekly Panflute were nothing short of awful. Mine read (and I quote): “Beware of strangers bearing gifts this week, as they will all turn out to be false. An encounter with an old friend will reap big rewards in your love life.”

So, firstly, the comment about “all” the strangers bearing gifts was flawed, as only one hitherto-unknown person offered me anything. It was a man outside a bakery who was giving away small pieces of pie. Monty, the Imaginary Son, took one (his horoscope said nothing about gifts), and told me it was a highly delicious pastry. Chalk one failure to the bastard horoscope writer, who cost me a piece of pie.

The second part of the Panflute’s horoscope – “An encounter with an old friend will reap big rewards in your love life” - is not one I want to go into (and even if I wanted to, I am forbidden to do so by law). However, I will say this: If by “Big rewards in [my] love life”, the writer meant “divorce proceedings”, then it was accurate. Otherwise, nada.

Now Toronto Magazine’s horoscope looks like this: “Duh duh duh. I’m a Now Toronto writer. Duh Duh Duh. I can’t write. Duh duh duh. I smell.”

Another magazine with an inaccurate horoscope prediction was the Ontario Sentinel (incorporating the Ontario Mallard). Their prognostication was that all Aquarians (such as myself) would encounter a Level 10 warlock king with 2300 hit points, high resistance to elemental fire attacks and a weakness to lightning attacks. Suffice to say, the only creature from a forbidden realm that I met this week was Dandrax, a fifth-level elfin priest. I had to resort to using my Blade of Advancement (+5 to Power, +10 to Stamina, -5 to Sass), and cursed the horoscope throughout the battle. Ontario Sentinel: You fail.

One of the horoscope columns was quite accurate, I have to admit. It appeared in Canadian Dullard. I was told the following: “Today you will read a horoscope page. As Jupiter is in Sagittarius, I predict a lunch for you. An unexpected event will occur at some point. If your birthday is this week: There could be a party on the horizon.”

I can’t believe how accurate this horoscope was. It’s like it was tailored for me. Canadian Dullard’s horoscope writer Psychic Steve scores many points for his brilliant predictions.

Finally, What Fishtank? Magazine’s horoscope page was highly interesting, but I could give it no points for accuracy. However, it was only later that I realised I had copied out the magazine’s contents page by accident, so it was no wonder that it was so astrologically unsatisfying.


BeckEye said...

I went to high school with this girl who was a crazy born again Christian, and she told me that horoscopes were the "gateway" to devil worship. Well sir, talk about being able to predict the future! One night, after she told me that for the umpteenth time, I ripped her tongue out, cut her throat and offered up her blood to the Dark One. She's my zombie slave now and, gosh, we still laugh about the irony of that whole thing.

ginger b said...

I hate horoscopes. They never tell you anything specific and they never tell you that your ex was just blown up in a terrible car accident.Where's the fun in that?

Falwless said...

Beware. For a while magazine horoscopes are enough. They're a lighthearted distraction, a means of a laugh or two. They can even satiate a casual itch to see what the "universe" has in store...

But next thing you know you're fishing day-old newspapers out of the public garbage bins and texting 5-digit codes on your cell phone just to see if you and your mate are "compatible."

It's a dangerous game you're playing.

Mo said...

My horoscope according to The Onion:
"Though last Tuesday may not have seemed like much to you, trust us: It was the best day of your life."

Hmmm...I distinctly remember forgetting to bring dog poop bags on my walks last Tuesday and having to scoop up a steaming pile of doody with a leaf. That better not be the best day of my life...

Dr Zibbs said...

The only thing that can really tell your future is an old guy with a long beard and one eye.

The Imaginary Reviewer said...

Beckeye: It's funny, because if your friend had read her horoscope, she'd have known what was coming. "Pisces: Don't leave the house today, lest you become fodder for the King of Lies. Lucky number: 3."

Ginger: Those kind of things you have to take into your own hands, really.

Falwless: It's true. For this review, I made sure I had a good circle of friends to back me up and intervene, should my research get too intense.

Mo: It's funny, The Onion's horoscopes are usually the most accurate. You have a new come?

Dr Zibbs: Really? The guy who looks through my recycling for empty beer bottles? Hmm, it seems I have underestimated him.

ÄsK AliCë said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
ÄsK AliCë said...

Weird. I just so happen to be a psychic, so here's what I see in store for you next week:

Beware the draw of technology. You will feel the need to write stuff. Jerry Garcia may appear in your fruit loops with a message from the grave.

Anonymous said...

That's exactly why I only trust fortune cookie messages at "Wok N' Roll".

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