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    Go Back  The Jittery Journeys of September 2004  Go Forward
    Salutations, little nitwits of the nipper! Last time, we left you riding wave after wave of success. First, the pegs of devotion! Then the pegs of despite! No aspect of life in the laundry seems to have escaped the clutch of your nitwit nipper. Whiter than white with just a touch of darkness to cast a long shadow. You're lord of a wealthy estate, guru of the simple life and Rasputin of the rinse cycle! And, to top matters off, you're about to move your workers offshore to create a tax haven that will allow you to exploit them with a much improved profit margin. And, of course, they will be in warmer climes. After all, one has to maintain one's revenue-generating units in fit and proper conditions, as long as they don't involve too much expensive sanitation.

    But wait! What's this? Why, little crustacean ninnies! It's the shadow of savage September falling across your rosy path. Let us consult with the vile and bitter prognostications thereof and see what ills may befall you in your very moment of triumph.

    Mischievous Mercury is still retrograde in Leo as the month begins, so financial matters still preoccupy the crustacean brain, such as it is. As vamping Venus enters Leo and your solar second house, you hire a woman with big hair and a beautiful voice to fill your new home in the Caribbean with beautiful treasures and possessions. Marauding Mars begins to wrestle with underworld Pluto and you begin to drive your workers with finger-lacerating quotas in order to meet the almost supernatural demand for both the pegs of devotion and the pegs of despite. As a raft of ghastly planets fart in the cosmic winds and the New Moon comes in anal Virgo, events take a surprising turn. Devoted followers begin to espouse one peg against the other. Peg-waving devotees pray in the streets to the Virgin, St Francis and St Anthony of Padua over baskets of freshly laundered washing as peg-wavers on the dark side sneer and call out rude names, whilst brandishing images of demons and trolls across bags of filthy clothes.

    Great gods alive and dead, little crab type loonies! You seem to have created not only a cult but also a cult war! The subsequent peg burnings that take place see you rubbing your hands with glee as gold clinks in your coffers. Then do the gears of the cosmos grind, tiny crustacean ninnies! And so do the wheels of Heaven turn, just in case you're wondering what that infernal racket is, coming from the skies! It's the Equinox, sweet lunatics! Visited yet again upon a benighted world by the remorseless entry of the great Sol Invicti into the nitwit sign of Libra. So too follows jolly Jupiter, invigorating your solar fourth house with the trappings of extravagance and splendour as you move to your Caribbean home.

    Marauding Mars steps that same path, ensuring you'll spend a great deal of time fighting with your family and recalcitrant children in the time-honoured manner of your insufferable sign. Thus have you fled the scene of this burgeoning peg war that symbolizes the very real and growing rift in a benighted world, a rift between those on the side of devotion and those given to the excess of despite. It must do your crustacean heart a deal of good to know your work is at the very core of this traditional conflict. Though, of course, your body is far away and safe (so you think) while your coffers collect a handsome profit reaped by selling to both sides of the struggle. For a moment, all seems at ease in your life. In fact, you even think of taking a tour of the workers' cottages to kick sand in their faces since you can no longer splash shit on the rags they wear. However, a Full Moon erupts into the aggressive frenzy of belligerent Aries and riotous behaviour erupts at the security fence that protects your new mansion. Voices shout aloud, but one voice carries over all. 'There is the one!' it cries. 'There is the maker of the pegs of despite! Living in luxury earned by dint of these evil carvings!'

    Great gods alive and dead! What will you do, crustacean twits? Your secret is out! Your dark face is revealed! Gods, I'm feeling unwell. I shall sleep now. I may even awake to write more of this nonsense next month. Click here and see. Farewell!

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