I just got one of those horoscope forecasts for the next year in the mail. As usual, I have to read them, despite consciously knowing I shouldn’t be placing too much weight there. I do, for some reason, form these subconscious superstitions that are vastly skewed from the original context, though. Probably because I’m too lazy to understand fully the meaning or intent behind the directions. Or too stupid.

Like when faced with a huge chunk of information on talismans (I’m reading a Chinese horoscope leaflet, by the way) that are lucky, that bring health, wealth, better fortune, bad luck to those that hurt you (if only), I somehow managed to pick out the common element in them—however basic and inconsequential—and keep that with me. For next year, I’ve decided that my lucky element/stone/material/thing must be jade.

Never mind that I didn’t compare this with the other zodiac animals. Never mind that jade might be a common feature in the leaflet just because it’s Chinese (the leaflet, not the stone, you bigot) and we all know that you aren’t fully Chinese till you wear something unmistakably jade-y. And are able to kungfu-chop a board with your pinkie. And sleep in silk sheets. And have slitty eyes and are cruel beyond redemption.

This particular one has got to be the crummiest horoscope I’ve ever read. Usually, they try to sound at least marginally authoritative and hocuspocussy. This one, however, forecasts my luck for 2006 to be: “You win some, you lose some.”

Great. An overdone, grating cliché. Then, it makes no apologies for sitting on the fence, and proceeds to direct my actions for the next year with such gems as: “Do not fight robbers” because “Low crime does not mean no crime”. Whoo. Sockin’ it to ‘em.

That’s the giveaway, right there. The schpiel on low crime and no crime (buh dum chhh) is lifted straight off a publicity slogan the Singaporean police force had propagated for years, which has insidiously nestled itself firmly in the local consciousness through rhyme and the use of a truism that nevertheless makes people, mouth agape, go “yeah hor…” in realisation.

Somehow, the fact that it’s a Singaporean-written horoscope waters it down somewhat. You just can’t take it seriously. You can’t attach any legacy to it, any slitty-eyed fortune tellers with fiery talismans. The only fire thrown in was the offbeat subtext on the first page, promising: “All that you need to know to stay alive and kick asses in the Year of the Fiery Dog”.