Tally ho, air sign boobies! We left you last time on the road to Somerset and the mystic isle of Avalon, as you had been in the previous month. In fact, it seems to be taking a lot of time to find your dream, tiny airhead addlepates! Perhaps you'll have to climb every mountain and ford every stream as you wend your way to England's southern climes.
Your dream is the production of DISCO NUNS GO TO AVALON, a vapid and shamelessly superficial show you've written, complete with trance music, knights in white satin (eek), platform shoes and religious persons disco-dancing in cages from the Middle Ages! You have a new lover, a 'hitchhiker friendly' driver who picked you up and is now ferrying you to this popular spiritual destination. It's seems this poor creature's life was so tragically lacking that the presence of your self constitutes an improvement. Sigh! En route (as it were), you had a vision, one that drives you to the horizon of eccentricity and rabid independence you have spent your life pursuing.
Much of your current eccentric behaviour may be due to the presence of cranky Chiron and narcotic Neptune in your sign. Equally, it could be because you're an incorrigible lunatic and there is no hope of you ever doing anything sane or normal. Anyway, you were busy sorting out a few hygiene issues in this new relationship and that's where we find you as jaundiced July begins. And so do the prognostications begin, prognostications of a vile and bitter type!
Attend to me, my cloth-eared clowns and I will show you a future so grim and so charged with the futility of black despair that you will come to believe you're living in a benighted universe, ruled by insane gods, which of course you are. Proceedings begin with a ghastly New Moon in neurotic Cancer while a vast array of addlepate planets fart in nasty aspect, including jolly Jupiter and Uranus, the idiot god. Thus, you decide to change your ways and become a better person! You will seek the Holy Grail of right conduct, treating all men and women well. Egad! How noble and right-minded! You will be a sensitive partner (mischievous Mercury and vamping Venus in Leo and your solar seventh house), even though your newfound love does seem to need cheering on a monotonously regular basis.
Thus, as mischievous Mercury and vamping Venus clash with narcotic Neptune, we find you pouring oil on troubled waters (in two separate streams no doubt) and doing your best to be aware of the needs of others. Yet, somehow, my tiny twerps, you wish you could fly from these troubled responsibilities and be yourself, despite your recently expression of good intent. And that's where things begin to unravel for all hell breaks loose in Heaven! Marauding Mars does Martian things, grappling with the sensitive points of other planets in a nasty and violent manner.
Quelle horreur! You arrive at the hallowed ground you've been seeking, just in time to hear a nasty grinding in the Heavens that presages unspeakable events, set to unfold in your wretched life. Of course, said grinding is the aged bones of grim Saturn as he changes cosmic mantles, forcing you to look on his passage (eek) into lackwit Leo and your house of partnership. At this point, you begin to feel strange (suddenly realizing the truth of what everyone has told you for most of your life). You look around! Wild weather and storms erupt, drenching the holy landscape with driving rain and a somewhat less than mystic cloud. A Full Moon brings her chill necrotic gaze to study your increasing air of distraction. You're agitated and restless, feeling you must escape the turmoil that gathers in your life. Your lover wails about the storm. This ancient site seems to carry none of the magical promise you imagined. And all the time, grim Saturn wrestles in the Heavens with cranky Chiron in your idiot sign. Soon, this monstrous devil of old age and illness is joined by the great Sol Invicti. Your lover gives way to severe depression, urging you to eschew the dream of Disco Nuns and fly to the safety of some better place, even though the cheery songs from this work have been a source of solace in recent times.
Mischievous Mercury turns retrograde and you find yourself lost in confusion, unable to understand what's being said. You squawk with rage and, as vamping Venus enters anal Virgo, you begin to wonder if all things are plotting against you to destroy your great dream of Disco Nuns that dance around the Holy Grail, enshrined in the cathedral of love. But your life is no dream now! It is a nightmare, my tiny ning-nongs!
Marauding Mars clatters into leaden Taurus, clashing with cranky Chiron. You leap from the car into the storm, squawking furiously, determined to cast aside all responsibility for other beings, doing only that which pleases you! You vault atop an old stone wall. You will indeed fly away! You stretch your proud wings (wings?) to the wild winds. Mars and grim Saturn clash whilst vamping Venus wrestles erotically with Uranus and you have become a giant bird! An eagle, in fact!
Gadzooks! How uncanny! And how awkward as far as clothing or drinking cappuccino is concerned. Perhaps you've been magically transformed by the Grail of the Disco Nuns who now wait for you to fly to them in Heaven and so be released from your travail. What do you think? Hmm! You may actually have become a bird. You may have simply given way to a tragic episode of a bruised mind. Or, I may have overdosed on the contents of my little brown bottle. Do call again next month and we shall discover which it is. Ta! Ta!