date: 10/17/95 20:46 PM
I learned this morning that Patric Walker, author of the only horoscopes I've ever read, died on the 10th of October, in England. It is hard to really describe how it feels, but being a depressed person, I and many of the people I know cling to astrology columns and horoscopes like Linus to his blanket. I don't think very many of us really believe that anyone, even Patric Walker, could predict the future or evaluate our potential based on the motion of the planets. I know people will argue that point, but if you really listen to what folks are saying, and how they talk about columnists like Mr. Walker, you almost never hear anything about empirical evidence or proof. You hear talk about compassion and understanding, and about Patric Walker's profoundly sympathetic readings of the traditional astrological charts. Patric Walker was not a prophet or a seer, he was a man who touched on the tender nerves of millions by confirming that the vague disillusionments and disappointments we feel throughout our lives are genuine, and that the path to happiness is not paved with impossible glimpses into the future, but by spiritual absolution and peace of conduct in daily life. I, for one, no matter how dire my conditions become, have always wished that the strength of my character could be strong enough that I could do without horoscopes, do without conspiracy theories and stories about alien abductions, and that on my own I could persevere in such a way that these crutches would not have to be there to help compensate for the emptiness of life. It seems much more dignified to draw on the resources of your own life and your own experience, rather then those of Patric Walker, in the times of need which stain so many lives. But the daily horoscope speaks to some emptiness in me, and without Patric Walker's kindness and discreet understanding, I sadly persevere with the quest for serenity and happiness with one less crutch of kindness to keep me company.