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 Asperitus Casting Runes... |
Great Caesar's ghost, my odious arachnids! I have awoken just in time (well, a little late actually but who's counting) to deliver the dose of prognostications, vile and bitter for the month of awful April! Settle back and swallow them, my tenacious stings-in-the-tail!
Last time, we left you on a Norwegian riverbank, beating yourself senseless (a brief journey, if the truth be told) with a branch from a blackthorn bush. This was either because you were undergoing a spiritual cleansing of some kind, or it was because your had lost your mind completely and were behaving like a lunatic. I know which one the safe money's on! Nonetheless and not to be deterred, we had better finish what we've started. Proceedings are launched in a grim and ponderous manner as miserable Saturn staggers forward with creaking knees and wrinkled skin. Vamping Venus slithers lasciviously into wretched Pisces and your flagellation becomes a theatrical performance as you caper and cavort in a bloody whirling spiral. Marauding Mars assails the naughty bits of dark Pluto, underworld god, and you call upon the ancient powers of the forest and the spirit of the blackthorn to guide you to the life of passionate fulfillment that you want. And what's this? Quelle horreur, my fiendish articles! It's a horror that's almost too horrible to describe. And yet I, Asperitus, oracle of bitter truth, will essay the description. As the loony lunar light comes to the Full in lackwit Libra, the spirits of the forest you have summoned now arrive beneath the mantle of the chill necrotic glare of Lady Moon. They dance about you, chanting, shrieking and wailing in unnerving fashion. This occurs due to the influence of ghastly planets as they cavort in nasty aspect, but creeping ennui disinclines me to name even one of them. Ah sigh! Marauding Mars barrels into slimy and neurotic Cancer and the very branch of the blackthorn you hold seems to come alive in your blood-soaked hands. Mischievous Mercury crashes into addlepate Aries and the living branch gives you another thrashing, one that takes you beyond any barriers of pain you have ever known or inflicted. Ye gods and little fishes, now there's thing we never thought would happen! Pain you didn't know about! Venus and Uranus, the idiot god, join in a lustful embrace and your dance turns wilder and wilder as the living blackthorn thrashes you past barrier and barrier of pain. It's a grim master, this blackthorn! You scream in ecstasy, running mad and naked in the forest. Thus you cry aloud that you will eschew the company of men and women! A dull gaggle of ghastly geese they are! You cry the defiance of solitude as the war god and the perverted messenger clash in a most unmannerly fashion with the Loony Nodes. But what's this? By all the daft and giggling gods, it's the stunning dénouement of your derangement. The great Sol Invicti clatters into cloddish Taurus then makes an indecent proposal in the ear of ancient Saturn. A realization comes to stun you! In fact, it transfixes you and arrests your insane and bloody progress! As a New Moon then comes in the sign of the bovine (i.e. Bull), you realize that the reason why you cannot bear humanity is that you're still in love with the devil. Eek! Egad! Gadzooks! And other such quaint expressions to indicate surprise and alarm. As vamping Venus exposes her most private parts to dark Pluto while the great Sol Invicti thrashes cranky Chiron, you see you're still obsessed with the demon prince! You're filled with desperate love and gut-wrenching fear. All else in life is naught but dust and shadow while humanity is but a flock of wittering milksop twerps that sit so far beneath intelligent consideration they're barely worth the breath it takes to dismiss them out of hand. Gadzooks! How depressing! And yet how true! What will you do in the face of these astounding revelations? Go back to Hell and marry the devil? Stay in the forest and thrash yourself again? Or return to Oslo for a cappuccino and a herring pizza while you think things over? Kindly click here next month to see which option you will take, my teeny tiny stings-in-the-tail! For the nonce, let me bid you 'ave'! Ave! |
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