Gadzooks, my little airheads! It’s time to greet you. Hola! Consider yourselves greeted. And now it’s time to treat you with the contempt a benighted universe (the one ruled by insane gods) has reserved for you and all your addlepate kind. And so I do! In the name of all that’s unholy and irritating, I command the power of prognostication to rise up within me! And so it does!
Great gods alive and dead, what’s this? Why, it bursts forth in streams of vile piffle and bitter drivel to which I now subject you without mercy or surcease. Last month, you were staging a mesmerizing display of electromagnetism and magic in order to cure your ailing knees. You were of course living in Scotland for reasons I can’t remember, except for the merciful relief that it’s far away from my dwelling place here in Heaven. So, on with the show of awful August!
Mischievous Mercury clashes with idiot Uranus and sparks fly in all directions lifting the very hairs of your head into the air, crowning your otherwise unimpressive pate with a dazzling display of blue fire. Jolly Jupiter wrestles with underworld Pluto and a choir of monks, magicians and malcontents you’ve hired for the occasion intone in an outré tongue. The great Sol Invicti cavorts in unseemly fashion with nasty Neptune and smoke of many colours descends upon the stage and then spirals out into the auditorium, engulfing all those assembled for your display in a fog both literal and metaphorical.
Vamping Venus enters neurotic Cancer and, for all the pyrotechnics, the burning question still remains! Are your knees any better? But, as is always the case with you, things are not quite that simple. You try desperately to see through the smoke whilst being deafened by the racking coughs said substance has tickled into life in the watching masses but the very air seems to swirl and the stage rocks beneath your feet. Ghastly planets wail and gnash their planetary teeth, paying especial attention to your solar eighth house. A feeling of unnamable dread comes over you. Winds howl in the air (a fit place for them to howl really).
Great gods alive and dead, little lunatics! Perhaps you really have done a magical thing. Cranky Chiron clashes with miserable Saturn and you’re swept up by a vortex. By my little brown bottle, that’s a very ‘new age’ thing to happen! You reel! You fall! You close your eyes and moan with unspeakable horror! And, come a New Moon in loathsome Leo, you open your eyes to find that you stand on a wild and barren heath, confronted by three ugly misshapen figures the like of which you’ve never seen before, especially on so fair and foul a day as this.
Great Caesar’s ghost! What’s happening, my little feeble-minded twerps? Your thumbs are pricking with unutterable fear! There must be something wicked coming, mustn’t there! All thoughts of electromagnetism are cast aside as you try to see where you are. Aching knees are forgotten in the panic. Mischievous Mercury moves back to loathsome Leo and you croak a desperate question to the hags. “Speak if you can. What are you?” you cry aloud. “All hail, Macbeth! Hail to thee, Thane of Glamis!” shrieks the first. “All hail, Macbeth! Hail to thee, Thane of Cawdor!” screeches the second. “All hail, Macbeth, that shalt be king hereafter!” wails the third.
Great gods alive and dead, little twits! I know what’s happening! You’ve been thrown back in time by the power of the magical forces you’ve unleashed. This ‘new age’ vortex has cast you in Shakespeare’s play, Macbeth. You’re on a blasted heath with the witches and soon will be plotting to kill good king Duncan. Oh, gods! Is there no escape from the wretched misery of your misfortune! We can only trust there will none. But what’s this? Why the shocking thing is not done with yet!
The Full Moon comes in tear-stained Pisces and the witches crowd around, demanding money. What’s going on, my tiny nitwits! This fiscal importuning isn’t in the script! Ye gods the bard would turn in his grave! Sadly, I’m feeling unwell now and must lie down before I pass out from the exertion of discussing your pathetic fate. Click here next month if you want the mysteries revealed. Ta! Ta!