Salutations, sad little oxen folk! Welcome to the month of joyless July and the vile and bitter prognostications thereof! No! No time to go to the toilet! No! No time for the last vanilla slice from the pantry! And there’s certainly no time to wonder what on earth this unmitigated drivel is all about! Just read it and weep, my little twerps of horn and hoof!
We left you last time in the midst of success as a singing tour guide, with a burgeoning business and a dozen virtual images working on your behalf! And what’s more, these images are all of you, bovine boofheads! That’s right, my little chumps! You’re everywhere at once, singing, dancing and regaling the marks with apocryphal tales and anecdotes about the interesting features of every locale known to man or beast or bull! Why, you’re such a popular thing, everyone wants a piece of you.
But quelle horreur, my dears! Last time also you were feeling funny, touched by peculiar sensations and an experience of dissociation as you watched strange landscapes pass before your eyes. You were in a meeting at the time, as I to my everlasting shame recall, without the aid of medication. You were split, my cloddish creatures and still are! In fact, right at this moment, in a disturbing manner, you are everywhere at once. Gods, I may never leave this room.
The Full Moon comes in lugubrious Capricorn and news arrives! International connections are determined to have a piece of your action, cloddish types! The foreign market wants you. Your associates raise their arms and punch the air with joy but you stagger in the grip of this peculiar fit. You know, this could all be to do with nasty Neptune in Aquarius and your solar tenth house, making the pursuit of a career something of a fatiguing exercise. Add to that, lugubrious Saturn in Cancer and your solar third house, a depressing transit that makes all communication sad and tiresome. Perhaps these images are weakening you, each one taking on a life of its own that feeds parasitically from your life!
The great Sol Invicti conjoins with odious Saturn and business booms but mischievous Mercury and marauding Mars in loathsome Leo churn up matters in your solar fourth house by clashing with the Lunar Nodes! You’re an emotional mess, bullish types! That’s for sure!
And then what’s this? Great gods alive and dead, it’s an event too awful to contemplate! Mercury and Mars clash with nasty Neptune and you go wild, little things! You thrash! You roll! You batter the furniture in your home and rend the expensive bed linen into shreds. You have tantrums, spit the dummy and heap abuse on the public, pretending to kick and punch them because you’re tired of being nice! The worst thing is, while these tantrums occur in the sanctity of your bullish domicile, your virtual images begin to abuse and assault the public in that very manner as the New Moon comes in neurotic Cancer. Of course, they do no harm but, from a public relations point of view, it’s a disaster. Gone are the cheerful anecdotes! Gone are the popular songs! And, in fact, gone are the members of the public as a once thriving operation dwindles to a trickle of folk who, for their own idiosyncratic reasons, enjoy abuse and ill-treatment from others! Myself, I cannot conceive of such a thing, though we must remember we live in a benighted universe ruled by insane gods.
Vamping Venus clashes with jolly Jupiter and business fails! The great Sol Invicti enters Leo and your solar fourth house and you’re trapped at home, weakened, reeling and wondering. Vamping Venus clashes with underworld Pluto and your financial situation looks grim indeed. Mischievous Mercury moves into Virgo and you desperately try to write down what is happening to you, in an effort to keep sane (snigger).
But great gods alive and dead, what’s this? It’s more madness from the cosmos! Miserable Saturn and jolly Jupiter grind the gears of Heaven as they close in on underworld Pluto. And then comes a Full Moon, the second for the month and thus a ‘blue moon’, this time in idiot Aquarius. You write feverishly, documenting this strange experience. But police and authorities come knocking at your door. You’re accused of being out of control, besotted by drink and drugs as lawsuits are taken out against you and charges are laid for the distress caused by your virtual images. And, what’s worse, the images themselves gather in your house, furious, restless and wanting to meet their maker.
By my little brown bottle, it’s awful, cloddish types! What will you do? I’m feeling faint and must rest. Kindly send donations towards my medication so I can extract you, next month, from yet another of the messes you’ve made. Until then, farewell!