Great heaving bosoms and unmentionable undergarments! It's the time of the Crab! What an unpleasant prospect for us all! I must make prognostications of a vile and bitter kind! You must read them and become severely depressed while I return to my slumbers, safe in the arms of Morphia and my favourite medications. Hoorah for the little brown bottle! Hoorah for the silver tube!
But that's enough of that. Let's have a bit of this instead! Attend to me, my crab type loons! It is the month of noxious November, as revealed by the eleven knots in my handkerchief. And this is an account of the unpleasantness that will afflict you therein. Last time, we left you tongue-tied, just when you were set to deliver a tricky tongue-twister to amuse an assembled audience, a jocular venture intended to alter your image from vexatious misery (a familiar guise) to humorous crustacean!
Odds bodkins! How transmogrifying! The audience was composed of sycophantic friends (they came for the food) and ghastly relatives that fall into two categories. The first group is impossible to remove from your domicile as they hang about in expectation of inheritance. The second is all but incarcerated in your home due to a high dose of prescription drugs to suppress their disgusting personal practices and so preserve the family from further litigation and scandal. Proceedings begin and you struggle to find your words, backed up as you are like a badly blocked pipe. Of course, the wise will know that this is due to the movement of mischievous Mercury in perverse reverse.
As that supple creature assails the aging bones of Saturn, you utter nothing but a series of clicking sounds, punctuated by the odd bout of 'hmm' and 'ah', forced out of you like tortured hiccups as you strive in desperate futility to sound witty and intelligent. A Full Moon comes in cloddish Taurus and your friends titter in an affected manner at your ineptitude. However, as this behaviour is typical, it passes without comment. The attention of the assembly drifts as you, desperate to entertain, make improper remarks, quote stock market figures pertaining to past business successes and laugh aloud in the manner of a dramatic actor in a cheap horror flick from the fifties.
All this is due to the lustful congress of narcotic Neptune with a series of planets whose names may be read in the 'obscene behaviour' trials that will follow shortly. But the comic performance you wished to give remains uncomfortably lodged in your gullet, unwilling to release itself and inspire ecstatic laughter on the assembled lips. Vamping Venus gropes the bones of grim and ancient Saturn and many depart, leaving you with a familiar sense of personal desolation. Marauding Mars rams his rudest bit in into mischievous Mercury and you stamp a crabby foot, swear foully and obscenely, cut yourself on a sharp object in a dramatic manner and argue with a young male about sex, money, occultism or taxes.
This is distressing for you, my tiny nitwits of the nipper. There's nothing funny as you mumble, mutter, stutter and choke on the very words that you once wished would demonstrate a talent to amuse. It seems the duke of jocularity is defrocked. But what's this?
Ye gods and little fishes! It's a startling reversal of the cosmic trends. Mischievous Mercury moves forward and your mind, which has been blank, begins to clear. As a New Moon comes in evil Scorpio, you resolve to eschew the paths of humour and return to the ancient ways of strict rules, grim-faced endurance and savage beatings to enforce the traditions of your forbears. You will be a silent Crab of mysterious power, putting aside the comedic mask. As the great Sol Invicti and jolly Jupiter roll and clatter drunkenly into silly Sagittarius, you instanter take up the lash.
Great giggling gods and damnable demons but the power in you is fearsome to behold. Truly and forsooth are you a mighty Crab! You drive the remaining minions assembled in your home down to the sweatshops in the extensive cellars of Castle Crab. It should be noted that these are nowhere near your precious wine racks, as you do not wish the bottles to be soured by proximity to human suffering and the odour of honest slavery. And honest slavery is what this rabble will get!
At first you set the new made thralls to work, cleaning, preparing food, scrubbing the rings from the bathtub and removing the stains from ill-used bath toys and your hot water bottle covers. And as marauding Mars and his deadly weapon approaches the private parts of mournful Saturn, you drive the work force hard. Mischievous Mercury once again makes merry with the naughty bits of narcotic Neptune and you enjoy a bowl of banana custard, laced with favourite additives. So you drift and dream, envisioning the grand schemes by which you can make a fortune as your minions labour for the greater cause.
By my sainted aunt, tiny seafood morsels! With all these planets in your house of work and health, someone is going to suffer! Click here next month and see who it will be! In the meantime, ave!