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    Gemini | Soul Connection | Relationships | Runes | Zodiac


    Go Back  The Sublime Irritations of January 2005  Go Forward
    Greetings, O things of sound and fury, signifying nothing! Last time we left you in a parlous state, as you plummeted to certain death among snow clad peaks with a pulled neck muscle and an equally doomed new lover. Shall we leave you hanging in mid air or shall we consult the vile and bitter prognostications for jittery January and discover the woeful twisted threads of fate that gather to catch you in a spider's web? Drink up, my little two-faced flatulents! For here's the cup of doom.

    Insufferable planets fart in the silly sign of Sagittarius and your new lover grips you in a grip of steel. The salve of parachutes is quickly applied to your terrified body and soon you are launched together into the fierce cold of the winds of what appears to be a desolate mountain region. You flutter down from your wounded bird of a jet and thus seem to be saved! What a thrill for you, my tiny two-faced nitwits! What a grievous disappointment to those who find you tiresome, vacuous and irritating! Oh well! How sad! Never mind!

    But what's this! Great gods alive and dead! Don't neglect the new peril that has replaced the old. You're hurtling through the freezing air at only slightly less of a hurtle than the hurtle at which you were hurtling previously. Until, blissfully, the chutes open. Thus do you and Icarus the Great waft daintily down toward the snow-clad peaks until you bury yourselves deep in a snowdrift, handily placed to prevent death on a perilous and rocky mountain slope. It seems luck is with you, tiny twittering things.

    And so it is, for jolly Jupiter reigns supreme in nitwit Libra, in unseemly accommodation with underworld Pluto. Mischievous Mercury and vamping Venus move to gloomy Capricorn. The New Moon comes there too. Now, you find you're faced with yet another peril. Merciful Heavens! That's three perils now! Surely that is enough! This third peril is the wild and desolate region in which you are stranded, with no supplies and but a parachute each to cover your nudity, as you were stripped for action when disaster struck.

    But what's this! By my little brown bottle, infernal and damnable fortune still seems to be your friend. In the distance, across the snows there is a dark, forbidding edifice, but an edifice nonetheless. Three times lucky it seems! But has your luck run out? We shall see. You and Icarus make tracks towards the edifice. That's a joke about walking through the snow, by the way. As unspeakable planets cause havoc with the Lunar Nodes, you trudge many a mile with many a mishap to finally arrive at the great door that will admit the weary traveller to the dark edifice. As the great Sol Invicti enters idiot Aquarius and your solar ninth house, you find that you have entered a monastery wherein monks (usually found in monasteries) are devoted to the power of the occult and the study of the dark path. Egad!

    What will you do? You've had a surfeit of demons recently and thus are overdosed on the underworld. Yet, my tiny air sign twits! A thin parachute and an empty belly will not allow you to be choosy. In you go! Drums beat. Eek! Exotic wailing fills the air! Aargh! Noxious smoke from sputtering lamps fills your lungs. Ugh! You look about in fear for fires blaze at an altar but no heat seems to come from them. Monks smile fiendishly in the shadowy light. This may be some dread rite of cruelty and despite as practiced by these monkish devotees. What will you do?

    You try to look around for aid from your companion but the pain in your neck won't allow it. Your try to turn but a firm hand grabs you by the shoulder. A strange exotic voice speaks (doubtless it belongs to the owner of the hand), just as mischievous Mercury moves to lunatic Aquarius. 'It's the Full Moon tonight. Welcome to our rite. I see you've brought the sacrifice with you. This thing I saw in my seer's crystal on this very eve. My seer's crystal sees all, by the way.'

    Shriek and double shriek, my tiny air sign things! You're to be sacrificed in a fiendish rite. The devil's got you after all. How bravely will you die? Or will another stroke of fortune save you? Click here next time and see. Ta! Ta!

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