Wyn Drabble: Filling the void with very little

Wyn Drabble.

Perhaps scepticism is the reason I don't usually read my horoscope. Apart from the stage connection, I'm with Noel Coward on this: "The only stars I can blame for my failures are those that walk about the stage."

Today, however, I did read mine and it certainly confirmed that there are good grounds for my scepticism. I was trying to work out the last two clues of the crossword and my eyes were wandering aimlessly across the page and they fell on the nearby heading, Cancer.

"Humans are the only known animals who publish their words and broadcast ideas. To express yourself publicly is to exercise part of your humanity. You have a lot to say."

The day I read this was the day I had set aside to write this week's column. Trouble is, I had no ideas, nothing to say.

Sometimes my ideas begin during the week so that, by the time I come to type, the germ of an idea has grown into a possibility and, once I write my first sentence, I'm away. But for this week's writing session, I had nothing. Nothing, despite the promise of my horoscope.

Alas, I was bereft of ideas even though Winston and Donald had both done stupid stuff again and a poor bloke in England had been buried under tonnes of cheese after a shelving collapse.

Any of these should have provided me with fodder but, on the day when my horoscope promised me everything, I had no comment to make.

I mean, what can you say about a Polish national working in Shropshire and being trapped for more than eight hours under tonnes of blocks, boxes and wheels of cheese? "Care for some camembert?"

The good news was that he was protected by the cage of his forklift and, if the rescue had taken any longer, he certainly wouldn't have gone hungry.

I can just imagine his horoscope that morning. "Life sometimes throws us a curve ball but don't expect anything too out of the ordinary to happen today. Tonnes of cheese falling on you, for examples, is out of the question; that would just be silly."

Winston can't possibly be a Cancerian because, as usual, he DID have a lot to say and we can't have horoscopes coming true, can we? The "master of bombastic rhetoric" overdid it in a guest lecture at Victoria University last week.

He was rather critical of "run-down" politicians being sent overseas on diplomatic posts after "dubious services" to our country. Those jobs, he said, should go to someone capable of doing them properly. Ouch!

His star sign is Aries so I checked his horoscope. "You're not randomly choosing moods. You're working on a problem all of the time - even when you're not aware of it." Whatever that means!

And Trumpy can't be a Cancerian because he always has too much to say. He is, in fact a Gemini. "Music is powerful. Share songs you love with people. And when the people you love aren't demonstrating that in the way you'd prefer, the songs you love will bring joy and healing."

Yeah, right! I think I can rest my case re horoscopes. That said, it's still strange that most people seem to know their star sign yet very few admit to believing in astrology. "Who needs astrology?" one asked, "when you can get by on fortune cookies." In my opinion all horoscopes should be the same - one size fits all. "The stars and planets will not affect your life in any way."

So, I defy you, stars! I certainly didn't have a lot to say and I've said it.

- Wyn Drabble is a teacher of English, a writer, musician and public speaker.