Asperitus Casting Runes...
Great Heavens, little centaur pea brains! It's time for the monthly dose of the vile and the bitter in the prescribed prognosticatory form. And, as I am the greatest prognosticator who ever lived, it shall be I, Asperitus, the oracle of bitter truth who will administer the dose!
It should be clear, even to urchins and galoots as brainless as you that you're in the midst of a horror story of epic proportion, living in the backwater principality where you've inherited an ill-starred fortune and a vampire's castle! Yes, little centaur addlepates! You're about to be fanged by the eldritch incisors and go down for the blood count as you join the ranks of the living dead.
Last month we left you in the lonely and freezing castle with the surgeon and the blacksmith fighting while the local Bobbies knocked at the gate. The great Sol Invicti clashes with nasty Neptune. For a moment the scene overwhelms you and you're overcome. You sit on the stairs, drink three bottles of wine to calm your nerves and then get up. You fall over again for obvious reasons and crash to the foot of the stairs, courtesy of Mercury's clash with mighty Mars. There you pick yourself up only to find you've broken your arm. The blacksmith (no longer fighting with the surgeon) offers to break the other one so you can remain in balance. As the blacksmith is obviously even drunker than you are, you wisely refuse. The surgeon offers to set the arm and you agree, asking in a dazed fashion through your tears of pain (the arm really hurts you know) what's happened to the police. You're told that they came to deliver another fine to the blacksmith for parking his horse and cart in a handicapped parking place, and that's why they were fighting as he's always getting tickets for such things. Under a raft of unspeakable planetary aspects, you nod wisely then lapse into unconsciousness, courtesy of the amount of alcohol you have drunk and the needle that the surgeon has just put into your arm.
You wake from a deep and disturbed anaesthesia to find several days have passed. It's the Full Moon in imbecile Aquarius and a startling thing occurs. Mercury clashes with underworld Pluto and you lift yourself from the bed only to find there's no pain in your arm. It's no longer broken, little simpering galoots! You're stunned and amazed. You call the surgeon. He comes, but before you ejaculate your astonishment, another needle finds your vein and you're back in the land of nod.
As an unseemly gaggle of planets gathers in asinine Leo, you dream of flight. Your body rises high above the castle that once held you captive. In flight, you're a prisoner no longer. You soar above the desolate landscape, swooping to harass passing peasants and moping farm animals with a little jolly japery as you remove items of their clothing or pelt them with red blossoms.
After what seems like mere moments, you awake in your castle bed, feeling uplifted by these stratospheric dreams. As Venus the goddess and the great Sol Invicti move into tedious Virgo, clashing with revolutionary Uranus, an unholy row shatters your jovial mood. Peasants and apoplectic minor officials are gathered at your gate, shouting and hurling bottles of water (which you later discover to be holy) and garlands of garlic.
As Venus the goddess clashes with mighty Mars, you extract yourself from the clutches of sexual slaves with whom you're provocatively intertwined. Jolly Jupiter and the New Moon hover in Virgo and you come downstairs to find the castle under siege. Military persons oversee the manoeuvering of siege cannons into place. A seething mass of peasantry dances wildly around a cart that carries bloodied corpses, both animal and human. As the great Sol Invicti clashes with mighty Mars, the crowd hurls things at you. As Mercury the messenger turns retrograde, they scream at you in a language you cannot understand.
For myself, little galoots, it's comforting to know people all across the globe harbour just the same feelings about you as I myself do. Perhaps the state of universal irritation is closer than I thought. Certainly you do your best to promote it. Click here next month and see whether you'll need the surgeon or whether the surgeon will need an undertaker. Ta ta!
Aries, the Ram
Taurus, the Bull
Gemini, the Twins
Cancer, the Crab
Leo, the Lion
Virgo, the Virgin
Libra, the Scales
Scorpio, the Scorpion
Sagittarius, the Archer
Capricorn, the Sea Goat
Aquarius, the Water Bearer
Pisces, the Fishes