You may or may not have noticed that the temperament of the stars in The Daily’s horoscopes has changed drastically from previous years.

So has the name of the section, to the much classier “Star-bred fate.”

Whether you appreciate these recent changes, or are the person sending me a slew of anonymous litigious mail, what follows is a totally truthful set of facts about my relationship with the stars and how I translate their heavenly twinkling into somewhat negative horoscopes.

To be entirely candid, there’s relatively little real information following, but you’re fated to read on anyway; I would know.

Divination in reality is unlike how it is portrayed in popular culture or history. There are no crystal balls, tea dregs or astrology charts, as used by Professor Trelawny in the Harry Potter franchise. Neither is the future foretold via drugged-up virgin, as per our own western history. What goes into this modern astrologer’s divination is a lot of luck, a host of obscure references and perhaps a swallow of insanity.

Divining takes me between four and five hours a day, the first of which is spent staring blankly at a document titled “Star-bred fate template.” Every once in a while — once, I think — some astute observation on the human condition will come to me in an almost epileptic flash. Most of the time, however, divination is a slow process.

It all started for me after picking up a horoscope and reading the entry for Pisces, my sign. I felt like I do every time I receive a delicious fortune cookie from my favorite Chinese restaurant — overwhelmed with gratitude to the world for my great fortune. “You will gain great wealth and wisdom soon.” Right.

I found these sorts of fortunes to be naive and dull. They obviously have no basis in reality and are just collections of very vague general advice that you will try to connect to your own experience.

If I were to read horoscopes, I would read them because they are humorous, dirty, gritty, witty, silly, or outright outrageous.

This is the experience that I try to lend to my own “Star-bred fate.” If pressured to describe my astrological style, I would say it is a frivolous romp that often doesn’t make sense.

In the end, if I’ve made a few people laugh, a few others choke and some die-hard astrology junkies re-evaluate their perhaps misaligned values over words written by a guy like me, then I’ve done a good job.