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 Asperitus Casting Runes... |
Ave, my two-faced twits! Last time we left, you were trapped in your jet with supernal agents of divine revenge surrounding you. They are known as the Erinnyes and are grim creatures with dog heads and bleeding eyes. They were intent on the execution of a rough justice upon your person for the crime of psychic parricide, a grievous offence in the eyes of any insane deity sober enough to remember that he witnessed it. Not only that, but also was your jet assailed by dark cloud and whipped by wild wind as a gathering storm began to threaten your airborne personage.
Given that we left you poised on such a parlous precipice as this, I expect we should look in upon your doings this month, that of obnoxious October, as I'm reliably informed by the staff here in Heaven. For it seems your wretched life is set to take an even worse turn than the turn it has taken up till now, if that can be believed. And, it's all due to the ghastliness of Mars. You remember him, I'm sure! The psychotic bully with the uncontrollable sexual urges! Anyway, it seems he's about to do nasty things in the sign of cloddish Taurus and your solar twelfth house. This latter, you will no doubt recall, is a bleak place of misery, drug addiction, lies, theft, self-undoing, dock-workers, psychics and general naughtiness. Right thinking folk would not wish to be there. However, that's exactly where we find marauding Mars at play as the dread doings of this dastardly month get underway. Upon the first instant, the ghastly warrior god enters into a reverse motion phase, exposing his buttocks to the world in general and to you, my tiny two-faced nitwits, in particular. He does so in gruesome congress with vamping Venus in hag-ridden Scorpio, a ghastly sign that we shall hear far too much of in the days ahead. Thus do these in-flight infernals gather about you to serve the drinks! A vile concoction of bitter prognostications, I'll be bound, for I am a vile prognosticator myself and know a vile prognostication when I taste one. And so, with a New Moon in loathsome Libra that brings a Solar Eclipse to your house of pleasure, a poisoned chalice is served by a dog-headed flight attendant with bleeding eyes. As mischievous Mercury gropes the private parts of jolly Jupiter, you whine, witter, moan and complain in your usual excessive manner. But drink it you must! And drink it you do! Egad! What's going to happen now, my tiny farting ning-nongs? Well, I'll tell you! Mischievous Mercury moves to hag-ridden Scorpio (just as I warned you) and you feel as if you're poisoned. Another Yod (you had one last month) now forms in the flatulent gases emitted by the insane gods, pointing a divine digit right in your miserable direction! Thus, your jet is wracked and rolled by the fury of the storm until air-sickness competes with the grim venom of the vile and bitter drink that seethes and slithers in your bloodstream. By my little brown bottle, what happens is so dreadful I can hardly speak of it! And yet I must! And so must you read it! A noxious Full Moon blazes in addlepate Aries, bringing a Lunar Eclipse to your solar eleventh house and it seems as if you're losing the will to live. Egad! Mischievous Mercury then grinds the bones of narcotic Neptune in a most unseemly manner and you find yourself reflecting on all that you have done in your past. And, little ninnies, you discover to your horror that you're unable to take pleasure in the recollection of anything you've done. It's as if the ghosts of pleasures past fill the aisle of your jet and haunt you in the guise of a dread-filled, mind-numbing agony. Oh dear! That seems unfortunate! Chills and fevers rack your body as dark memories rack your mind and the storm racks your plane, all as mischievous Mercury ruins his wretched body on the rack of perverse reverse marauding Mars. It's quite exciting really! Almost as much fun as having one's gall bladder removed by a drunken surgeon with a blunt scalpel and no anaesthetic! Anyway, to continue with the darkly accumulating forces in the sign of hag-ridden Scorpio, it's the great Sol Invicti who arrives there next! He seems to sneer in a most alarming manner as the Erinnyes gather in about you, driving you mad with their ghastly appearance. This traditionally is one of their tactics to punish the offender. But what's this! Great gods alive and dead, it gets even worse as jolly Jupiter now leers and sneers his way into the hag-ridden sign of death, black magicians and taxes! Evil Scorpio! And now for the coup de grace! The goddess Dike herself appears in the seat next to you. It seems this august personage has come to render a final justice to your fever-wracked, aching but entirely pleasure-less body and demented, tormented mind! Vamping Venus conjoins in an unseemly manner with dark Pluto and the goddess looms beside you! Mischievous Mercury moves into silly Sagittarius and she begins to prate in that ghastly, intoning manner these minor deities prefer to adopt! This all looks pretty grim for you. And you certainly are in a severe decline. However, as I'm feeling rather unwell myself, I think I shall retire to the comfort of the brown bottle and the silver tube. If I am recovered on the eve of next month, I shall write more outrageous piffle and bring this tale to a stunning climax. In the meantime, ave atque vale, little two-faced ninnies! | ||||
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