I’m not a fortune teller. I believe prognostication is mostly fan fiction.
“The next woman you meet will fascinate you.”
Yeah, if you count an unmasked, female vagrant yelling inventive invective.
“You will meet a tall, handsome stranger,” indeed.
Does that include the violently coughing guy, bent over in spasms, who everybody ran away from?
Even weather people – many with meteorological degrees and years of experience – have trouble telling you with a high degree of certainty if you should carry an umbrella in the morning.
I watched a segment on astrology on CBS Sunday Morning earlier this month and shook my head that people listen to this crackpot nonsense with a straight face. Their “experts” gushed about how millennials are more “open-minded” and “looking for alternative answers.” I remind them that, much as reporters corrected Kellyanne Conway, there are no such things as “alternative facts.”
My father, the CEO of a corporation, kept a Magic Eight Ball on his desk. People wandered through his office day after day, demanding resolutions for a variety of business-related topics. His word was generally the final say. When he lacked 100% conviction of an outcome, he’d shake the Magic Eight Ball and recite whatever came up, such as “Ask again…
