Shriek and double shriek, fatuous crustaceans! It's not doleful December! It's jittery January and a dose of vile and bitter prognostication is due once more! Here it is! I hope it's not fattening. On reflection, it's probably not. In fact, it's more likely to make you thin and miserable. You see, the insane gods (who rule the benighted universe in case you didn't remember) last month decreed you should have a clean slate when a fire, caused by the shade of your departed mother (god bless her canvas brassiere), destroyed your holdings. That was in a tropical paradise that was your adopted home. Thus you did eschew pegs of despite, pegs of devotion, the business of laundry (except domestic) and the whole nasty topic of lifestyle gurus, either good or ill.
Does it not seem, my wretched hardbacks, that everything you try is doomed by the pointing finger of some dark god? Of course it does! And it is! And grim-faced Saturn is the god in question. He of the thin lips and rheumy, sorrowful eye! He has been in your sign for an unseemly stay, an unwelcome guest that does not know his time to go. And there's the rub! It's not his time to go, but the gods have decreed a new start so no one can think of anything for you to do this month. Eek! At least nothing that won't be the same as every other month.
So, you could be at a loose end! After all, you've tried personal happiness with family and loved ones, but that didn't work. You've tried making money, but that didn't work either. You've tried being happy and successful, but the less said about that tragedy the better (or was it a farce?). So, the question arises. What to do till grim-faced Saturn leaves your sign? Let us then do what those made of that too too solid flesh must do! Drink a draught of vile and bitters and be damned. Lift the cup, my tiny crab type things. Deeply imbibe!
Mischievous Mercury, vamping Venus and underworld Pluto conjoin in silly Sagittarius and your solar sixth house. You spend your time moaning about your health and hiring and firing employees as you try to get your business interests going now you are back on native soil. As Venus and Mercury shift their nuisance value to Capricorn and your solar seventh house, you are once more surrounded by family members, moaning and complaining that you are stingy, that you don't work hard enough and that they have nothing to live on. You contemplate in a vague or distant manner the traditional measures involving bread and water, the lash and a barbed wire enclosure but then, no! By golly no! The shade of your dear mother has taught you well. Only love will salve the deepest wounds.
So, as a New Moon arrives in the grim and gruesome sign of the Goat, you decide to sympathize with your nearest and dearest, pandering to their every need. Of course, this is what you have tried to do in the past, but only in your stern and emotionally constipated manner. As the great Sol Invicti and cranky Chiron clash with the Lunar Nodes, you decide to change your ways and open up to those you love. Egad! What a thought! Perhaps they will need umbrellas or something like that to stem the flow of your crab type feelings. The great Sol Invicti enters idiot Aquarius and you speak of deep and heartfelt concerns about debt and wounded sexual intimacy.
As the Full Moon comes in loathsome Leo, this turns quite naturally to the tragic tale of your dear departed mother (god bless her rubber sheets and army boots) and the harsh poverty of childhood. This, you say to fascinated family members (some of whom must perforce close their eyes as they are so deeply moved), left you scarred and anxious about money because of a deep-seated need for the emotional security that was always lacking.
Great gods alive and dead, you can almost feel the pain slipping away from your battered body as you bare your breast (so to speak). Confession truly is good for the soul! It's almost as if you're having an epiphany, my tiny seafood ninnies! Good health seems to surge through you as you talk louder and longer until it appears your entire family group has fallen into a trance, so fixated are they by the agony and wonder of your tale. It's all so astounding, I think I'll have to lie down now and renew my relationship with the brown bottle and the silver tube. Do wake me in time for next month's piffle for I will have dreamt up more of it by then. Ta! Ta!