Hail to you, O rulers of unspeakable body parts! May the procreating and excreting for which your sign is legend continue unabated, though at a polite distance and upwind, of course. Enough of these wry pleasantries! Let us pursue the business at hand. After all, we haven't conjoined in this peculiar virtual manner in order to discuss the finer things. Perish the thought! Let us instead make straight for the ghastly, gritty heart that beats in the chest of a benighted universe ruled by insane gods.
And that unspeakable organ is, of course, the vile and bitter prognosticating due to you upon your entry into the month of jaded June. Eek! I hope you have steeled yourself for the worst, my feverish arachnid imbeciles! Even though such steeling will, in itself, be inadequate preparation for that which is set to assault your life as a hive of wasps will assail the unwary intruder.
Last time, we left you on the river Styx, poled along by Charon the boatman and under orders from your dread lord, Pluto, god of the underworld. You were shocked to look upon the gruesome landscape of your own inner psyche. A sight horrible, indeed, to contemplate. However, as the rest of us have been forced to endure its workings since the invention of the ghastly wheel of animals (the Zodiac belt), I see no reason why your sufferings should not continue.
Thus, as marauding Mars clashes with Pluto, dark lord of the underworld, you are confronted by the ghosts of all the lovers that you have jilted and betrayed, raging or broken according to the state in which you callously abandoned them. This river is a place of shadows from the past, my fiendish little articles! Though you squirm and flinch before the grim parade, there's worse yet to come. Vamping Venus moves to Cancer and your solar ninth house, and you're reminded of those you seduced in the name of religion or the law. Jolly Jupiter moves forward once again in your solar twelfth house and the shades of ancient lawyers begin reading from the list of the charges held against you that pertain to this march of passing miseries. Eek!
This is becoming more than somewhat morbid! But in a fascinating way, so I'll continue! Then comes the New Moon, gibbering in lunatic Gemini and your solar eighth house, with ghastly aspects between mischievous Mercury and (again) dark Pluto, underworld god, who looms threateningly in your solar second house. It's here we see the list of all your sins, both venial and mortal, in regard to fiscal matters, as you stole from others (your solar eighth house) to line your pockets (your solar second house). Marauding Mars then crashes into arrogant Aries, clashing with mischievous Mercury now in neurotic Cancer. The weight of past peccadilloes seems to press down upon you, advancing the fevered state you're already in. Doubtless, you will recall that last month you collapsed on the set of your hit show, THE CABINET OF DR CALIGARI, where you were the idol of millions.
But what's this! Great gods alive and dead, how can this be? Ghastly planets fart in the cosmic winds and this grim situation sets itself to deteriorate further. The great Sol Invicti grinds his way into neurotic Cancer, inflicting another unspeakable solstice on an over-burdened world and bringing about the Full Moon in the lugubrious sign of the Goat and your solar third house. Thus do whining siblings, elderly relatives, in-laws and past associates gather in spirit on the banks of the Styx. These, alongside a gaggle of the dreary long departed that you may or may not have met or wronged at some previous point in time, now list the various tortures and other summary offences they claim you have inflicted on them.
As is the way with all things of high moral intent, the litany of it is insanely and mind-numbingly tedious. And, by all the gods, to make things worse, Charon stops the boat so you have to listen to every last word. And he poles you viciously if you threaten to fall asleep during the gruelling ordeal. And if that's not enough indignity for one month, all the ex-bosses you embezzled from or assassinated to gain power turn up to accuse you as well, just as nasty planets disport themselves in Leo and your solar tenth house.
Quelle horreur, my frightful little tikes! It really sounds as if no one in the world likes you at all! Will no one come to the banks of the Styx and speak on your behalf? Will no compassionate creature take your part and advocate for the good you have done in the world?
I'll tell you what! I have to go to sleep, as I'm feeling rather tired. So, between now and next month, if you can find anybody who cares enough to try and find anyone who actually cares, do kindly email someone or other on the subject. Perhaps the editors of 'BELIEVE OR NOT' would be interested. In the meantime, hail and farewell, my little stings-in-the tail! Let's meet in Antwerp when the time is right!