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    Scorpio | Soul Connection | Relationships | Runes | Zodiac


    Click for Last Month  The Sublime Irritations of September 2005  Click for Next Month 
    Scorpio Ave, my fiendish articles! In the month of awful August, you were ready to resume your role as Dr. Caligari, master mesmerist and celebrity torturer, in pursuance of dastardly aims, sprung from making a deal with the devil whilst on a visit to Hell. Principle among these dastardly aims was to heighten the control of the dark lord on this benighted earth ruled by insane gods. Ho hum! Just another jolly day in the life for you ghastly rulers of the house of psychological aberration, death, brothels, torture and taxes (eek)!

    As we left, you were on the set of THE CABINET OF DR CALIGARI, selecting a favourite sharp instrument and waiting for a helpless victim. Said victim was generously supplied by the fickleness of mindless members of the general public, all too ready to run up a massive phone bill in order to express their contempt for their fellow beings. The devil is in his hell and all is wrong with the world, eh, my rulers of unspeakable body parts! So, what do the vile and bitter prognostications hold for this month, bearing in mind the parlous meeting of jolly Jupiter and the loony South Node last time?

    Take the poisoned chalice, my tiny twits! Drink deep and discover! Incidentally, for those of you awake and remotely interested (a description that rarely applies to myself, I hasten to tell you), I am late with the forecast. I think this is due to a severe case of ennui that I contracted in a past life while I was oracle to the Assyrian King, Ashurnasirpal II, a terrible fellow who murdered persons at random and incessantly invaded other kingdoms. Sigh! A severe attack of ennui ensured upon my posting with him and I have not recovered since. Ah well!

    What was I talking about? Your ghastly fate, if I remember rightly! I knew it was nothing of import. Anyway, I must resume my discourse, I suppose, before the ennui gets me in its grip again. Just in case you're worried about what's happened since savage September began, I'll fill you in. Vamping Venus groped the private parts of jolly Jupiter and the first victim was taken from the cabinet to receive the requisite exquisite treatment. The creature wittered on in a manner that would indicate that it was a nitwit air sign such as Libra, or a wretched water sign such as Pisces. As the New Moon came in anal Virgo whilst clashing with Uranus, the idiot god, and assisted by the ingress of mischievous Mercury into that same unspeakable sign, you proceeded to wreak havoc with the mind of this poor unfortunate. And that is where we find you now, offering sympathy one moment while asking what colour body bag would be preferred in the next. And, even as vamping Venus enters the dark realms of your toxic sign, proposing marriage and offering to carry the unfortunate to Hell for the honeymoon, where you will provide a personal introduction to the Prince of Darkness.

    Gadzooks, tiny rulers of the anus! This is grievous mental torture and riveting television. The ratings soar and yet you have done no more with your exquisite blade than allow it to catch the light. The public goes mad, voting in a frenzy for every boss, ex-lover, mater, pater, neighbour, uncle and overbearing aunt or cousin they have ever despised to be abducted by the dread somnambulist and thence transported to the cabinet of Dr. Caligari. Thus will they be subjected to a ruthless destruction by the master mesmer! By my sainted aunt, diabolic types! There is a wave sweeping through the cosmic tides that threatens to carry you to further heights of stardom. Of course, it's a wave of hideous flatulence as ghastly planets fart in nasty aspect! The chief odiferous offender is marauding Mars, the god of belligerent psychotics, who thrusts his rudest bits into the private parts of jolly Jupiter and dark Pluto. This makes a configuration, known to astrologers of yore as a yod, the Finger of God. And, dread ning-nongs! It's pointed at you.

    Little do you know that, as you revel in your role as celebrity torturer, an old enemy (Mars in your solar seventh house) plots in secret (jolly Jupiter in your solar twelfth house) to destroy you and bring you to utter financial ruin (Pluto in your solar second house). No such thought troubles you though, for as the great Sol Invicti and mischievous Mercury both clash with dark Pluto, god of the underworld, the money comes rolling in. As the Full Moon blazes in tear-stained Pisces, you lay plans on the back of this fame to serve the Prince of Darkness, and to feather your own nest by doing so. It's time for another cult, is it not, my precious squirts of venom! With you as the much worshipped central figure!

    The great Sol Invicti grinds his way into loathsome Libra, foisting the indignity of another Equinox on an over-burdened world. You begin to dream and lay plans in secret. As vamping Venus indecently interferes with narcotic Neptune, you find yourself before the mirror, dressing in strange garb and glittering jewelry, as you ready yourself to transcend the role of Doctor and become the evangelist of Hell! Great gods alive and dead, is this heresy or is this lunacy? Click here next month and see. Ave!

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