Asperitus Casting Runes...
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Greetings, demented rulers of Hell! How are you and all the idiot demons that attend to your personal needs? Still haunting your dark and lonely nights, little stings-in-the-tail? Enough of this banter! Let us proceed to the vile and bitter prognostications for fearful February.
As the curtain closed forever on 2003, we left you in the midst of a war with Heaven, planning to write a powerful and moving novel that would turn the mass of humankind from god altogether. Frankly, I think this would be a great relief to both parties. You see, on the one hand, it could be argued this is a benighted universe ruled by insane gods who deserve no loyalty from the suffering masses of those in the darkness of such torment. Equally, on the other hand, it could be said that the effort involved in attempting to guide a cretinous, purblind, spiritually amorphous blob known as the human race has driven mad all the gods that ever were or will be. It is, of course, as we are torn between these schools of thought that we come to a state of sublime irritation.
Enough gentle philosophy! Let us return to our tale of the insectoid ones, your loathsome selves! Cranky Chiron and mischievous Mercury meet in your solar third house and you see this is to be a difficult task. You briefly revive the unconscious Swedish tourist to see if she/he would like to discuss certain aspects of the book you intend to write. Oddly, in light of recent events, she/he professes to a dwindling faith in the protections of providence. You become interested in the discussion and begin to ask further questions. All this, of course, is due to the great Sol Invicti, nasty Neptune and the entrance of marauding Mars into cloddish Taurus and your solar seventh house.
Come the Full Moon in fatuous Leo, you're beginning to feel quite emotional. Furthermore, your abductee professes an interest in your good self (it's this strange power you have). Vamping Venus enters Aries and you attend to the needs of this now fascinating captive. Mischievous Mercury clashes with marauding Mars and you cast off the offending manacles. As marauding Mars then harmonizes with miserable Saturn, you find yourself massaging life back into tortured limbs as the two of you discuss various Eastern philosophies with vigour and enthusiasm.
Come the New Moon in wretched Pisces, conjoining idiot Uranus, you find you're doing with mutual consent what was once done under duress. Oddly, it's even more exciting than it was before. Great gods alive and dead! Could this be love, insectoid travesties?
Mischievous Mercury enters snivelling Pisces and you begin to write. Streams of prose, the like of which none has ever writ before, pour forth from your rabid and passionate unconscious. By my little brown bottle! You're inspired by love, little rulers of death and unspeakable body parts! Could this be the real thing? Click here next month and see!
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