Asperitus Casting Runes...
Greetings, ram type atrocities! How is life as the monarch of love and peace among the wild hill tribes of Crete? Satisfying, I trust! But, after all, you are a creature of simple needs! Red toys, lots of sex, hot food! Little else is required!
Last time we left you with a choir of singing Sirens, nestled in the rocks on the Cretan coast, luring ships to their ruin and sailors to a life of endless pleasure. I was unaware that 'luring' was a prerequisite in the matter of such joys, either for sailors or, indeed, for those of any other occupational calling. However, your particular brand of peace and love may contain the repugnant elements one might expect in persons of your odious sign, thus requiring 'luring' or even force to convince others to join you. Nonetheless, we will not waste time in speculation, no matter how insightful it may be.
So, let us proceed with the vile and bitter prognostications for morbid March. And these are they! Irritating heavenly bodies, in this instance the great Sol Invicti, jolly Jupiter and mischievous Mercury, clash in the accustomed and sickening manner. As a consequence jolly tars are sent screaming to Davy Jones' Locker as their vessels founder, only to be rescued and taken to the hills of pleasure and peace.
However, as a Full Moon comes in wretched Pisces, testing underworld Pluto, the Cretan Navy (such as it is) takes an interest in this wave of disaster that has hit the coast. It's not so much the shipwrecks, which are quite common in the Mediterranean Sea. No, my little rambunctious nitwits! It's in fact the god awful singing from the choir of Sirens. This pollutes the airwaves, interferes with sonar and has caused several colonies of rare sea birds to migrate to a far corner of the world.
And, thus, the tenets of peace and love are put aside for a time to make way for the base conflict with which you are more familiar. Mischievous Mercury enters your belligerent sign and clashes with miserable Saturn. The great Sol Invicti wrestles with underworld Pluto. And so a squadron of Crete's finest comes to re-enact the Battle of Salamis off the coast, just near the wild hills. Skilful as they are, these able seamen, they manage to sink each other while cheering tribespersons look on, making obscene noises and also lewd gestures that may or may not have religious significance.
Come the clash of vamping Venus and nasty Neptune, the Cretan government negotiates a truce, though your side hasn't fired a shot. It cedes a portion of the island to your commune of love. Perhaps the Cretan Navy has seen better days, for certainly it has seen no worse one than this.
The New Moon comes with the Equinox, sharing your odious sign between them. Thus we find you, smelly little ram type persons, as the literal king of all you survey. The tribesmen have made you their monarch and are considering your elevation to the status of a deity. After all, the Greek Zeus began life as a minor Sicilian vegetation god and went on to rule the world from Mt. Olympus. Why not you, little hotheaded nitwits!
Marauding Mars enters lunatic Gemini, testing idiot Uranus. Thus you send out vessels with a message of love to all surrounding nations, threatening to declare war on all those who do not agree to peace. This last is a practice that has sound historical precedent in a benighted world ruled by insane gods. Perhaps it will serve you too in the kingdom of love. Or perhaps not! We shall see next time. Until then, odiferous ovines! Ta! Ta!