Asperitus Casting Runes...
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- I would wish you the best of the coming month, little goatish miseries! But I know you would only see the gloom that gathers on the horizon and adjudge it ready to spoil even the most joyful of prospects with the vaporous dosage of ill fortune and bad humour you find all too familiar. Of course your natural tendency towards depression is perhaps the one laudable quality you possess, given the nature of life in a benighted universe ruled by insane gods.
However, enough badinage for the nonce! Let us proceed with the vile and bitter prognostications for awkward April. Last time we left you in the midst of a veritable ballet of wildly gesticulating persons of the Greek persuasion, arguing about penalty rates and overtime for your new business in Athens, making artifacts for the coming Olympic Games. As a raft of ghastly planets crash along a highway of hellish aspects to a Full Moon in fatuous Libra and your solar tenth house, you negotiate a deal that promises wealth for you and almost guarantees your workers and their families won’t starve.
However, there’s a consequence to the business that no one (apart from my enlightened self) has foreseen. Mischievous Mercury turns retrograde in cloddish Taurus and you find you have unconsciously taken up a new recreational activity.
Gesticulation! Yes, my little saturnine miseries! You have fallen victim to the Mediterranean disease! Vamping Venus clashes with idiot Uranus and you gesticulate your way through the business day, scaring employees and breaking the noses of several persons passing by! Cranky Chiron clashes with the great Sol Invicti and mischievous Mercury and you manage to destroy much of the furniture in your new home by waving your limbs wildly as the pressures of business mount.
Come a New Moon in arrogant Aries, one that brings a solar eclipse, you move to simpler and less fragile appointments. But, by my little brown bottle, you’re becoming desperate with this involuntary fever that is upon you. What has happened to your customarily miserable (and unspeakably boring) demeanour, your rigid deportment and your frigid manner? Gone they are, by all the great gods alive and dead!
As marauding Mars clashes with underworld Pluto, you gesticulate so violently you start a fracas in the public street. Desperation turns to hysterical urgency as vamping Venus also clashes with the underworld god and you consult a therapist to see if anything can be done for your disturbing condition. Click here next month and see if such measures bring the results you long for!
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