The Bitter Press

I have been asked, by no one, to justify myself. I am doing it anyway. Below you will find a full retrospective accounting of my predictions, sign by sign, each one vindicated, none of them lucky accidents, and I will not be accepting feedback from the so-called workers at factjuice.com, who I understand have assigned someone called Tangelo to "fact-check" astrology. Tangelo. A fruit so hybridised it cannot even commit to an identity. This will not be addressed further.

ARIES: I said something would end. It did. TAURUS: I said a door would close. A door closed. GEMINI: I predicted inner conflict. You are Gemini. CANCER: I said the water would not help. You tried the water. LEO: I said someone was watching you and not admiringly. VIRGO: I said the list would not be enough. It was not enough. LIBRA: I said the balance would tip. I did not specify which way, which is called professional flexibility. SCORPIO: I said a betrayal was coming. I have no further comment on this one. SAGITTARIUS: I said the journey would disappoint. You took it anyway. CAPRICORN: I said the summit was a metaphor and the metaphor was also bad. AQUARIUS: I said your ideas would be misunderstood. They were. Not by me. By everyone else. PISCES: I said the dream would blur. You know what you saw.

Twelve predictions. Twelve outcomes. I have the timestamps, the original column tearsheets, and a handwritten index that Quince once called "alarming" and Pomelo refused to look at directly. That is their limitation, not mine.

The citrus cabal at factjuice.com will tell you that negative predictions always come true because they are defined loosely enough to fit any outcome. This is what is known as understanding how it works. I have been doing this for longer than Mercury has been retrograde, which is not a real measurement of time but feels accurate. Next month: twelve new predictions. All of them bad. None of them wrong. You are welcome to prepare, but it will not help.