Asperitus Casting Runes...
Greetings, rambunctious atrocities! Hola and welcome to awful August! Hold onto your hideous horns as we board the oracular jet. Sit firmly on your flatulent bottoms as we prepare to ascend to the vile and bitter stratosphere of my prognostications.
We left you last time among the sodden ruins of the 'Star Jumps for Jesus' holiday camp, with no funds, no future and only the flotsam of sanity and jetsam of conscious thought (such as it ever was) remaining. Yet another extravagant scheme to reform your deplorable character and rectify your appalling moral standards bites the dust (or perhaps it should be 'mud' in this case).
As the great Sol Invicti clashes with nasty Neptune, we find you sitting in a pool, weeping your heart out and draining bottle after bottle of non-alcoholic grape juice (purchased for the camp) in the desperate but essentially vain hope that intoxication will come to blot our your pain. As Mercury the messenger then sideswipes mighty Mars, patrons of your now ruined camp loot what they can find (an old Christian custom) and deliver merciless blows to your extremities (also an old Christian custom) as they pass your prone and listless form on route to the exit.
As a raft of unspeakable planets creates a tide of unmentionable astrological aspects, ruin is complete. Your religious community breaks ties with you. You lose your home as waves of mountainous debt and querulous bank-managers turn 'Star Jumps for Jesus' from wrecked holiday camp to the albatross that hangs from your neck, as you sit, a comical ancient mariner in a puddle. Come the Full Moon in idiot Aquarius and Mercury's square to underworld Pluto, you wander, ailing and delirious in the hills somewhere out the back of beyond.
However once there, your fortunes take a turn for the better. The great Sol Invicti, giant Jupiter and Venus the goddess conjoin in your solar fifth house and you find yourself surrounded by a horde of wild hill folk. They mistake you for a god, indicating there are still parts of this benighted world untouched by either optometry or modern education. Venus the goddess and the great Sol Invicti then surge into unspeakable Virgo, clashing with revolutionary Uranus as they do so. In a trice, you're cleaned, painted with bright red body paint (as they are) and installed as a holy personage.
As Venus the goddess meets mighty Mars, potential lovers cue to attend the sacred couch whereupon you lie. The New Moon ushers giant Jupiter into imbecile Virgo, clashing with revolutionary Uranus. What ho, little addlepates! You're tribal chief and deity, the lord of all you survey! From Christian failure to feral success!
Mercury the messenger turns retrograde and you find life is changed beyond belief as you hunt and grunt through the balmy days in this primitive paradise. This is a place where sex, food and the colour red are all that matter, a place where the only converse one makes is the noise required to indicate that more sex or food or red paint is wanted. Could this be paradise, little ovine cretins? Could this be your long sought spiritual home? Click here next month and see!
Aries, the Ram
Taurus, the Bull
Gemini, the Twins
Cancer, the Crab
Leo, the Lion
Virgo, the Virgin
Libra, the Scales
Scorpio, the Scorpion
Sagittarius, the Archer
Capricorn, the Sea Goat
Aquarius, the Water Bearer
Pisces, the Fishes