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 Asperitus Casting Runes... |
Salutations, O things of horn and hoof! It was nastiness unbounded as we left you last time. New artistic dreams were crumbling in the face of a total lack of the fires of inspiration, brought about by the usual tragic twaddle associated with the twelfth house and, of course, your own cloddish nature. So now there's work to be done, my little bullish twits! But do you have the stuff in you, the right stuff that is, to get it done?
Why don't we consult the vile and bitter prognostications for offensive October and find out? We will, say I! And I am Asperitus, the oracle of bitter truth! Marauding Mars clashes with idiot Uranus and you lose your temper at the company auditions, shouting and carrying on in front of the assembled actors, artists and profligates which immediately makes them feel at home as its the kind of treatment they are used to. This is because they too live in benighted world ruled by insane gods where success in the arts is defined as having one's hair coiffured in an idiotic manner and wearing clothes whose cost would feed the starving of several third-world countries. This brainless extravagance is combined with the practice of exposing body parts to people tasteless enough to believe this is art and also possessed of funds sufficient to purchase the ersatz drivel produced in accordance with prevailing fashion. Now, where was I? Oh yes! Tragically, I can recall it. You were raving. Vamping Venus enters anal Virgo and you begin a passionate affair with one of the hopeful cast members. But Venus clashes with idiot Uranus and you end that affair and begin another, as the first candidate was not quite right for the part. None, except those who know you well, are entirely sure what part you are referring to. But still you are bereft of inspiration. Jolly Jupiter jaunts in unseemly fashion with idiot Uranus and you hire a personal trainer to work with you. He teaches you to stand on your head in the hope the flow of blood may encourage something to occur in that region. Whilst on your head, mischievous Mercury clashes with cranky Chiron and you have a multitude of past life recollections and end by babbling in an arcane foreign tongue and ordering searing hot curries from a local fast food outlet. Come the New Moon in Libra that brings a Solar Eclipse to your sixth house of work and health, you pass out and have to be treated by an impeccably dressed bisexual doctor and a wild-eyed shaman from an obscure hill tribe that dwells in a remote part of India. Because of your quick recovery, you sack the personal trainer and hire the doctor and the shaman. Mischievous Mercury enters gloomy Scorpio and your mother rings several of your rich and successful siblings to tell them how badly you are doing and how they were always her favourites. Vamping Venus clashes with underworld Pluto and you decide to hold an orgy with the entire troupe of waiting aspirants. It will be their audition and you will film the event to see if the result can light the fires of inspiration while it sorts the wheat from the chaff. You'll be just like Eric Von Stroheim, little twerps of horn and hoof. Bisexual doctor and shaman agree enthusiastically to participate. Proceedings get underway with alacrity, orgies being stock in trade for the artistic set. A Full Moon brings a Lunar Eclipse to your odious sign and you find soon yourself disappearing beneath the press of sweating bodies, all trying to get as close as they can to the part on offer by the brightest of bright young things, yourself! The vigorous mechanistic rhythm of this sweaty press sends you into a trance, my little cloddish twits! You swoon as the shaman sings a wild and guttural song. Vamping Venus enters loathsome Libra, clashing with idiot Uranus and the Lunar Nodes. You're delirious with visions that swim through your being. You're inspired at last and burning with desire. The masterwork you will devise is a dance that is the orgy of life itself, riddled filled base desires, corruption and lustful gratification. It was the ghost dance that brought you recognition but it will be the orgy of life that will bring fame and success and also put your mother in her place and perhaps make her take back the dreadful standard lamp she wants to foist on you. It's Halloween, my cloddish chumps! And the ghoulies, ghosties and goblins have you in their grip. Will you break through or just break down? Click here next month and see. |
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