Yippee Yi Yo, cretinous chumps! Last time we left you in the midst of a sticky moment in Grecian climes as you stood between the advancing menace of the Corinthian People's Front and the looming threat of the Popular Front of Corinth. These are two rival factions whose common goal of Corinthian liberation has been temporarily forgotten in the upsurge of an ancient blood feud. It's a case of fractured loyalties, my little addlepates! And you are in between.
For these rag tag and bobtail organizations (if such they can be called, with you involved in them) are insurrectionist groups with whom you share a significant joint involvement. In short, they're about to come to blows and you're meant to lead them both to the frey. Egad! How awkward!
The preface to this is an almost mystical affair, touching on Persian antecedents from the Fourth Century BC and your Corinthian citizenship. Should you wish to know more, kindly consult past oracles as I'm too excruciatingly bored to relate it to you and not at all sure I can remember it anyway. Let us instead turn our attention to more immediate concerns (for you at least as I am not concerned in the slightest). That is, of course, the question of what will happen next.
Thus do we come to consult the prognostications, vile and bitter though they be! Attend me now, centaur wretches! It is the month of offensive October and I am Asperitus, prophet of piffle and doom-saying dastard. Hear me and weep!
Marauding Mars clashes with idiot Uranus and you immediately crack under the strain of this testing split. As the rival forces swagger and threaten, you throw yourself to the ground very roughly. Once there, you rail and shout, rolling in the dust of the market place (the chosen venue for this altercation), bemoaning your miserable fate and the unfairness of life and the gods. Each opposing force steps forward, believing you to be the first of their fallen. But, as vamping Venus enters anal Virgo, your Corinthian lover runs to your side to minister to your grievous wounds (actually you have none), crying to the gathered citizenry to cease the hostilities of this ancient feud and tend their fallen hero. That's you, my little chumps!
How exciting! Comrades from both groups there and then throw themselves to the ground also, wracked with anguish for your pitiful condition (believing you to be injured) and thus they also roll, bemoan and wail in the dust, as I believe is customary in Mediterranean countries where the heat is excessive. Ghastly planets rut in the gutters of Heaven and amazing scenes take place in the marketplace of Corinth. Rival clans and families embrace, weeping almost inconsolably for the centuries of feuding.
Soon, however, the consolation arrives in the form of flasks of the alcoholic gut rot they pass off as wine in that region. In the grip of the grape and the embrace of Bacchus, old wounds are salved in liquor. A New Moon in Libra brings a Solar Eclipse to your eleventh house and the rival groups come together as one. No longer is there a Corinthian People's Front and a Popular Front of Corinth. Nay! They are united now as the Corinthian Popular Army. And you are the healer and newly elected leader, little addlepate types!
Just think of it! You have brought the common folk together in a common cause. Thus can they return to fighting the traditional enemies of Athens and Persia and no more expend themselves in killing each other. What a bright prospect for us all to contemplate! Truly you do great work in the world!
However, it must be said, the drinking continues with a savage intensity as the great Sol Invicti enters gloomy Scorpio and your solar twelfth house while mischievous Mercury clashes with nasty Neptune. Thus, as the Full Moon in cloddish Taurus brings a Lunar Eclipse to your solar sixth house, you stagger from bed to convenience with the worst hangover known to man or beast, along with most of the townsfolk. As vamping Venus enters the sign of Libra and Halloween approaches, the insurrection is temporarily suspended. While busy hands (ones that did not clutch the bottle) begin work on the dashing uniforms this army of liberation will wear, you moan and groan in your bedchamber in what will doubtless be a lengthy recovery.
But, by my little brown bottle, the great days of Corinth will surely come again when her general and indeed the rest of her army are sober! Nothing changes, does it, my tiny nitwits! Neither history nor you! Farewell for now!