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    Go Back  The Jittery Journeys of June 2004  Go Forward
    Salutations, little air sign twits! Last month we left you on the verge of climes both exciting and decadent. You were whisked away from a life of prostitution and art on the Rue de Nitwit in Paris to begin life as an impressionist and prostitute in the very beating heart of Copenhagen decadence, all this under the guidance of a mysterious but sexually athletic impresario.

    So, little airheads! Are you ready for more? Shall we see if the vile and bitter prognostications for jaded June can sweep this story from the wilds of utter absurdity to the wastelands of blithering piffle? Of course we shall! And so we do.

    The month begins with a loathsome Full Moon in idiot Sagittarius, blazing amid a welter of ghastly aspects between ridiculous planets. As underworld Pluto is involved, the dark side pulses all about you! On arrival, your impresario takes you to an underworld chamber, the shadowy offices of this mysterious figure. There, she/he reveals a ghastly secret amid a burst of strong wind and lightning! She/he is Lucifer, ruler of Hell, dark sovereign of the million devils incarnate that dwell in all of the twenty-nine levels of this infernal domain.

    By my little brown bottle! This is a bit of a shock, isn’t it! After a quick meal (supper served with a long spoon) and a skinny latte with chilli and chocolate, the customary business of dealing with the devil begins. With a bevy of lawyers present (there are quite a few on tap there in the kingdom of sulphur), the dark lord offers you a standard package. You’ll have the power to look and act like anyone at all, thus enjoying success, riches and pleasure for twenty-four years. The devil will serve you, provide you with all the information you require and never tell you a lie.

    Just think! You could constantly be someone other than yourself! A relief to us all, wouldn’t you say? In return, all you have to do is enjoy yourself, renounce the Christian faith (shriek) and turn yourself in after four and twenty years to dwell in the nether regions forever, at the mercy of the dark lord and his slavering hordes. The contract is a traditional format so there’s no haggling about pay or conditions, so your only question is to ask if there’s an escape clause.

    Oh yes, says Satan! All you have to do is find someone to take your place before the twelfth stroke of midnight on the final day. Otherwise it’s pitchforks up the backside and the farting of devils for more millennia than anyone would care to enumerate. But this is you, little air sign darlings! What do you have to fear? You’ve sold ice to Eskimos and coals to Newcastle. You can sell this fate to someone at the requisite moment.

    Thus, you cast aside doubt and sign on the dotted line, in blood as is the custom. With vamping Venus eclipsing and retrograde in your sign, you decide to exercise your new powers by changing your appearance at will and thus become the world’s greatest entertainer. With a New Moon in your idiot sign, you dazzle audiences with your impressions of Danny Kaye, Jesus Christ and other famous Jewish comedians. You enter Danish ‘Pop Stars’ and win in the first week, as the rest of the contestants resign in despair.

    Come the Solstice and the great Sol Invicti’s entrance into neurotic Cancer, you bathe in milk poured by a bevy of virgins while demonic accountants dutifully total your growing fortune. Marauding Mars moves into Leo and you buy the biggest and most fantastic car the streets of Copenhagen have ever seen. You disguise yourself as a variety of celebrities and inveigle passersby from the streets to stretch into your limo and have sex.

    You buy an airline and fly the world. As mischievous Mercury conjoins with miserable Saturn, you walk in the corridors of high finance and politics, disguised as a person of importance (a particularly clever outfit, this one). As vamping Venus goes direct, you purchase an extensive wardrobe to dress all the different people you can be. Could things get any better, little air sign nitwits? Perhaps not!

    But what’s that sound I hear? Why! It’s a ticking clock! Could it be you’re beginning to feel that time is running out! Click here next month and see if this sense of unease keeps growing. Ta! Ta!

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