Tally ho, fishy types! Last time we left you locked in a room with no apparent means of egress. Some would say that’s exactly where you should remain till anyone that cares (snigger) can suggest a reason to release you. However, I’m too jaded to engage in frivolous debate! Frivolous because no such person (i.e. anyone that cares) exists! Thus, we will simply turn to the vile and bitter prognostications for guidance on the matter of your ghastly future.
Welcome to the Goldfish Bowl, frightful fishes. At first you don’t know what to make of this enforced seclusion. But then, as you don’t know what to make of anything you encounter or even life itself, this observation is hardly worth the candle. The amiable youth that brought you here is notable by his absence. Mischievous Mercury moves to neurotic Cancer and you decide to fill the idle hours by creating a masterpiece with your coloured pencils. Deep in thought, you pour a drink while trying to decide what to draw. And, with marauding Mars in Leo, you’re soon practicing your favourite exercise routines such as playing submarines in the bath and falling backwards off the couch while inebriated, the masterpiece a forgotten thing, like so many of good intentions.
Vamping Venus gropes miserable Saturn and you chafe at the restriction of having no one to talk to. But, as Venus lays bare her private parts for cranky Chiron to fondle, you invent an imaginary companion to fill the hours of solitude. As jolly Jupiter becomes involved in these gross practices, you fantasize (with this imaginary friend) about travelling to faraway locations, sampling spicy food, quaffing exotic brew and engaging in insouciant converse. Do remember that this last is not a foreign sexual practice, except perhaps for the French!
As a Full Moon comes in silly Sagittarius, you rage and scream about the confines of your prison, demanding to know who’s in charge of your life because, as usual, it certainly isn’t you. Mischievous Mercury makes sleazy advances to Uranus, the idiot god. You decide to draw a picture of yourself, locked up in your flat, as you can’t think of anything else to do. Vamping behaves improperly with narcotic Neptune and, having finished the picture, you become maudlin as you contemplate the opus, wondering idly if you could grind up a few coloured pencils and smoke them in a recreational manner.
But what’s this? Egad! It’s the great Sol Invicti, assailing the private parts of dark Pluto, underworld god. You’re suddenly possessed by raging fury as you remember childhood experiences of being locked in your room by cruel and unfeeling parents. Despite this surge of feeling, you’re paradoxically seized by a rigidity of limb as unbridled fury runs through your body and shuts it down. You can blame this on marauding Mars as he interferes with the private parts of grim Saturn. You’re stiff as a board, piscatorial twerps! By my sainted aunt! Not only are you deprived of egress but also would you be unable to avail yourself of said passage (eek) even were it restored. Life is a jolly chortle with the insane gods in the driver’s seat of the engines of this benighted universe! And what’s this?
Quelle horreur, crapulous cretins! It’s a nasty, grinding, clattering racket, one that tells us the vain and selfish Sun god rolls into slimy Cancer, visiting another miserable Solstice on an overburdened world. And, horror upon horror, the Loony Nodes forsake the signs of Aries and Libra, moving to your sign (shriek) and that of Virgo (double shriek). It seems you’re entering upon a new era in your life and yet you’re imprisoned in a flat and locked up in an immobile body. Vamping Venus gropes her way into supple yet perverted Gemini. With nothing better to do, you wonder why, if you are to be immobile, does it have to be on a couch of such awful colours! You also find you recall ghastly incidents from childhood involving (oddly) the same unfeeling parents. This time you remember how they shamed you in front of prospective romantic attachments by stipulating loudly what time you had to be home and commenting with sarcastic humour on your lamentable personal hygiene and unsightly eating habits.
But what’s this? Why it’s the New Moon in neurotic Cancer! You resolve right there within your rigid frame that, should you ever move again, you will set your life on the path of renewal, liberating your spirit from the torture and humiliation you have endured in this naughty world. Egad! How grippingly heroic! And, as if to back up these mighty inner assertions you’ve made, mischievous Mercury moves to lackwit Leo and movement returns to your hands.
Gadzooks! How spooky! You flex your fingers, set to draw with coloured pencils such a drawing as has never been drawn before in the history of the world. It is by means of the golden pencil that you, little fishes, will be set free from travail. Click here next time and see just how. But for the nonce, hail and farewell, my tiny piscine types!