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    Go Back  The Irksome Journeys of December 2003    Go Forward
    Hola to you, miserable seafood nitwits! I suppose I should say 'I'm sorry' for starting late but I'm not. I overslept at the end of nasty November and each moment of unconsciousness that comes, whether by accident or design, is a treasure to be guarded jealously, with no apology necessary. Now that's done with, let's set our sights on the vile and bitter prognostications for dreadful December.

    Last month, we left you entangled in the madness of a voodoo cult, married to your housekeeper and engaged to a bisexual high priest. As the month began, mischievous Mercury ambled into miserable Capricorn while vamping Venus clashed with lugubrious Saturn. Thus, your crabby ears pounded with the hypnotic beat of drums as your crabby mouth extolled the praises of 'I CAN'T BELIEVE IT'S NOT CHICKEN' in the frenzied elder rites that are now the mainstay of your otherwise meaningless lives.

    By the Full Moon in odious Gemini and your solar twelfth house, your days and nights are spent in a trance of otherworld visions. Personally, I can think of many reasons to recommend this strategy as a most effective means of dwelling in a benighted universe ruled by insane gods. As the great Sol Invicti conjoins in unseemly fashion with underworld Pluto and both of these clash with jolly Jupiter, you begin frothing at the mouth and babbling whilst in the middle of a particularly gruesome rite, involving carrots, parsnips and a large vegetarian sausage.

    In an instance of this nature, one of two things will generally happen. The ecstatic (yourself a case in point) is either made a saint or locked up. In your case, little miseries of hard shell and soft underbelly, it's actually a bit of both. Nasty aspects begin to accumulate and, while some of the vodun masses are moved by your froth and bubble, a young acolyte, in training long before your arrival, has his nose put severely out of joint by your sudden advancement to the realms of vodun ecstasy.

    Nonetheless, the ceremony proceeds apace and, as vamping Venus flits to idiot Aquarius, you and your housekeeper and the high priest are bonded in a menage a trois, the details of which are too gruesome for a nature as sensitive as mine to recount. As the great Sol Invicti moves into Capricorn, bringing a New Moon in that miserable sign you're bonded in every sense to this new cult of yours. However, mischievous Mercury moves into retrograde phase and the voice of the young acolyte (a depressed fellow by nature) speaks against you as a foreigner and interloper.

    As you sit down to a voodoo Christmas, he hurls bottles through your opened windows (he works in the liquor trade). While there is no glass in the houses on this coastal paradise, there is still a lot of ducking to be done under such duress. Soon, enough is enough and you stride out into the open, screaming your wrath, the mask of civility fallen from your normally composed features.

    A crowd has gathered to see the action (as crowds will do) and open warfare is declared as the factions split, for and against you. Great gods alive and dead, idiot crustaceans! Matters of great moment are poised upon a knife-edge and the blade may be at your very throats! Uranus returns to tear-stained Pisces and the vodun masses gather at the ancient idols of the Loa, urged on by the high priest. There the faithful will find guidance. So begin the drums and the dance that the voices of the Loa will speak and say what shall be done to heal this grievous rift.

    Mischievous Mercury re-enters silly Sagittarius! Vamping Venus conjoins with nasty Neptune! And, if this is not sufficient to turn the innards of strong men to water, lugubrious Saturn clashes with marauding Mars! You reel, little seafood items! You stumble! Thunder cracks! The Heavens open! The voices of the Loa speak on the wild winds of storm! And what do they say? I'm feeling ill now! We'll have to postpone the thrilling dénouement until next month! See you then, little seafood miseries!

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