Hooray to you, obnoxious goatish persons with knobby knees! Last time we left, you made a break for the wild, leaving behind your cult of flagellants and your pathological obsession with guilt and failure. You opted for fresh air and the 'wide horizon'. But will a round of the bucolic, the bumpkin and the backwoods free your jaded spirit and grim disposition from their interminable misery? Let us consult the prognostications, vile and bitter though they be, for the month of awful August! By this means will we discover!
Sadly, the cosmic shenanigans begin with a display of gruesome grappling, by lugubrious Saturn and Uranus, the idiot god. This obscene spectacle is accompanied by a swagger of appalling dalliance, as the great Sol Invicti invades the nether regions of jolly Jupiter, to the delight of the insane gods and the complete repugnance of every sane and sensitive mortal (both of them). Thus, before you come to rest in the realm of Sylvanus, you make a foray into urban life and the city. This is done to order your financial affairs, preventing family and business associates getting their hands on your hard-earned dosh as you gambol about in some riparian paradise by a mountain stream. This done and dusted, you say 'farewell' to friends (both of them) and set out for the wild, after purchasing a supply of spicy nuts and raisins, as well as a range of sex toys for the long, lonely nights in Arcadia. As the great Sol Invicti clambers up the skinny thighs of aging Saturn, you put one foot in front of the other on the road to freedom.
But what's this? Great barking bandicoots! It's trouble, seeking you out, my goatish types! As the Full Moon in idiot Aquarius casts a chill necrotic glare upon the very ground you tread, the jingling of loose change in your pocket attracts the interest of a vile band of brigands that are living rough in this vicinity. Soon they have you at their mercy and, having relieved you of the musical coins, they leave you tied up and abandoned in the stygian gloom of the dark forest at the roadside. And not only that, my tiny imbeciles, but they also purloin your sex toys eat your nuts as well, though the raisins remain undiscovered in a back pocket.
Oh the ghastliness of it all, my tiny twits! You set out to flee the bonds of flagellation and now have ended bound within the forest. Irony indeed! And, by my sainted aunt, there's worse to come. Ghastly planets in lackwit Leo meet with thresh and flail the attack of nasty planets in idiot Aquarius and the abandoned members of family and cult have come seeking you. However, any mood of reconciliation has faded with the cold, the dark and their hunger. Finding you already bound, they administer one last thrashing (of singular severity) and wend their way to other climes and destinations, leaving you still tied but well the worse for wear. They also relieve you of the necessary financial information needed to milk your hard-earned wealth. Eek! You're tied up, alone, in pain and broke. No great tribute to a life of freedom on the road!
In fact, it hasn't been a good month so far, all things considered. And, in case you contemplate the prospect of imminent improvement, I suggest that you stick with the pessimistic outlook you favour. It is the safer guide, given the nasty influences at work. And, on the subject of nasty influences, the great Sol Invicti rolls drunkenly into vexatious Virgo, bringing a New Moon in that same appalling sign. As night falls (not that you'd notice in the stygian gloom), one by one or in packs, little animals and forest creatures gather about your immobilized person. They snort, snuffle, fart, nibble, nip and bite, not to mention the performance of the entire disgusting range of body functions, all within your immediate vicinity, if not directly on your person. Eek! They even eat the raisins in your back pocket in a most disgusting and invasive manner.
Great gods alive and dead! Is this what your bid for freedom is now reduced to! An endless assault of vile indignities, heaped one upon another until even your own depressing nature is gripped by an unprecedented darkness!
But wait! What's this! Why, it's a miraculous occurrence that brings a ray of light into this otherwise stygian gloom. As mischievous Mercury grinds his passage (eek) into anal Virgo, a small creature of the forest alights upon your shoulder and speaks clearly in your ear. Egad! Gadzooks! Odds bodkins! And other such quaint expressions to indicate surprise and alarm! This is a praeternatural thing, filled with mystic meaning! What kind of creature is this? And, more crucially, what does the creature say!
As I'm about to expire from creeping ennui and therefore much in need of my brown bottle and my silver tube, you will have to return here next time to discover the astounding truth! In the meantime, hail and farewell, my nasty goatish miseries!