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Persian miniature painting (c. late 17th or early 18th century) (courtesy Wellcome Library, London, via Wikimedia Commons)

Sagittarius (November 23–December 21)

You know what the weirdest thing is about Canadian artist and author Douglas Coupland’s quest to find the world’s best Vincent van Gogh look-alike, Sagittarius? The fact that it was sponsored by a winery. This month you’ll be presented with an unusual business opportunity, but don’t rush your decision. Maybe it’s too strange? Maybe it’s not strange enough? Sleep on it, sip some wine on it, and then make the call.

Capricorn (December 22–January 20)

You’ve been playing it safe lately, Capricorn, like a Chinese manufacturer of knockoff public artworks. Sure, you had a splash with that jazzed-up Anish Kapoor, but your latest endeavor, a by-the-numbers imitation of a frankly unremarkable piece of public statuary by Wendy Taylor, was just weak. Go for broke this month, and think of the resulting stack of lawsuits as a testament to your genius.

Aquarius (January 21–February 19)

Forging paintings is so passé. From Old Masters to Abstract Expressionists to Dansaekhwa, it’s all been forged. The real money will be in figuring out the next frontier of forgery, and we’re betting it’s historic automata. In an era of sleek, seamless technology, the market for handmade, ticktocking, wind-up old gizmos is bound to blow up, and where there’s demand, there’s fakery. It’s never too early to start thinking about the next big thing, Aquarius. How are your clockmaking skills?

Pisces (February 20–March 20)

We recently discovered the glorious lighthouse paintings of Georgia O’Keeffe’s sister, Ida Ten Eyck O’Keeffe, whose renderings of Cape Cod’s Highland Lighthouse are dramatic fusions of American landscape painting with the swirling energy of Futurism, or something like it. You’ll be facing some stormy weather this month, Pisces, but if you can stand strong and be a force for good, you’ll make it through to 2017 unscathed.

Aries (March 21–April 20)

The legal shouting match currently unfolding between Donald Trump impersonator Alec Baldwin and mega-dealer Mary Boone is fast becoming a real-life parody of one percenter shenanigans. If things continue this way, we sincerely hope it becomes fodder for a Saturday Night Live segment. Parker Posey would of course reprise her performance of Boone’s icy condescension, while Baldwin might best be played by SNL alum Will Ferrell. When it seems like the world is playing a cruel joke on you, Aries, it’s sometimes helpful to imagine which famous actor or comedian would play you in the late-night sketch comedy version of the joke.

Taurus (April 21–May 21)

Remember when that drunk driver crashed into the Museum of Broken Relationships? That incident seemed like such a perfect metaphor for … something. The failure of a particular model of urbanism, perhaps, or the misallocation of resources by the Los Angeles Police Department, or maybe the next evolution of relational aesthetics into something resembling Fear Factor. Whatever it meant, it’s also a good reminder for you, Taurus, that you should take a long, hard look at your relationship with your partner this month.

Gemini (May 22–June 21)

Over Thanksgiving, a relative struck up a conversation with us about the annual art fair extravaganza in Miami, but he kept referring to it as “Art Basil,” even asking us at one point where the name came from. We didn’t have the heart to tell him that it’s named after a Swiss city, not an herb, but we should have. This month, Gemini, you’ll be in a position to help someone avoid public embarrassment, and you should do it — in January, you’ll be the one embarrassing yourself, and you’ll need all the good karma you can muster.

Cancer (June 22–July 22)

Queen Elisabeth II has been after David Hockney for so long. First she offered to knight him in 1990, and he refused. Then, in 2011, she tried to commission a portrait from him, and he turned her down. Now, finally, she asked him to design a stained glass window in her honor for Westminster Abbey, and he accepted! You’ve been pursuing someone for a long time, Cancer, and this month you’ll finally get them.

Leo (July 23–August 22)

Metaphors are important. Gifting a young nation a giant statue of the personification of liberty is not exactly subtle, but it’s goddamned ambiguous compared to Jeff Koons’s recent gift, on behalf of the USA, to France. One says, “We see you struggling, we see you persevering, and we wish you and the world well.” The other says, “Hi, I’m Jeff Koons, and I’ve appointed myself spokesartist for 300 million people and I speak for all of them when I say that we hope your country gets back on its feet, and here’s a giant hand holding a giant bouquet of my balloon tulips to make you feel better.” This month, Leo, try to be a little subtler in your diplomacy.

Virgo (August 23–September 23)

We went to the New Museum a couple of weeks ago to see the Pipilotti Rist exhibition, and though at first we were overwhelmed by the waves of sensory information washing over us, we eventually managed to step back, relax, and enjoy the experience of being swept away in Rist’s optical flotsam. Your December is going to be a veritable tsunami of professional problems, Virgo, so much so that there’s no point in trying to tackle them all — just hold tight until January and then come up for air.

Libra (September 24–October 23)

There’s a lady at the Whitney Museum who we’ve seen the last few times we’ve visited. She’s always sitting in the same spot in the permanent collections galleries; she’s perpetually wearing the same blue dress and sandals, even as the seasons grow colder; her docile little dog is constantly curled up at her feet. She seems perfectly harmless, and yet something is off. Your December will be a lot like that, Libra; everything will seem fine, but you’ll feel restless and, ultimately, dissatisfied. (On the plus side, at least you’re not a Duane Hanson sculpture.)

Scorpio (October 24–November 22)

In discussions of what kind of art Donald Trump will hang on the walls of the White House, many have suggested that his tastes will tend toward facile, patriotic Americana, but that seems all wrong to us. This lunatic is no more a fan of the aesthetic comforts of narrative middlebrow art than he is of the challenges of Abstract Expressionism and Minimalism. No, we envision a Trump White House hung high with Pop-y, shiny stuff, much like you’d find in a Trump hotel — Lichtenstein, Warhol, Ruscha, Koons, and so on. It’s sad, Scorpio, but for some people art is just a thing to look at, not a thing to think about.

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The Editors divide their time between Kinshasa, Brno, Goa, and Tikrit. They are fabulous and they will always be at the party you weren't invited to.