What ho, rancorous rascals! It's time to jolly well prognosticate and piffle on in a vile manner. And I, Asperitus, the baffling bard, have chosen you as the current object of my derisive snorting. Let the heavens open! Let vile venom descend, my bumptious boofheads! It's fateful February and you're in for a nasty serve of irritation.
We left you last time dabbling in nature worship. You were set to launch yourself as a teacher of magic, revealing to all and sundry how to enjoy the excesses of sex and money as earned by sorcerous means. But will your spells be a bad as your spelling? It's almost impossible to imagine that this could be so but let us together drink the bitter draught and so discover.
Of course, I'm late with the forecast and we've already had the Full Moon in loathsome Leo so there will doubtless have been disturbing ructions in the domicile department and persons of the female persuasion will have had conniption fits or violent attacks of the vapours. And, as mischievous Mercury slithered into tear-stained Pisces, you will have had meandering conversations with inebriated friends or you will have had too much to drink at a meeting of the 'Save the Longshoreman's Hostel' action group. Then, as vamping Venus obscenely loitered with Uranus, the idiot god, you will have met a new friend and become quite excited or you will have met an old friend and become excited, though it should be remembered that such excitement will be short-lived, being of the unstable kind so typical of this lunatic deity.
Thus, we arrive in the present moment of this unspeakably tedious cosmic polka for cretins that we speak of as 'human existence'. The great Sol Invicti puts his vile signature at the bottom of narcotic Neptune's missive and you will either be immersed in magical wonders or simply hanging about, wondering what it is that you really want to do with the wretched farce that you name as life. You may be exhausted or have an odd encounter with a person in authority, one involving chemical imbalance, the use of addictive drugs or a confusing psychic prediction.
But what's this? Great farting camels and masticating monkeys, jolly Jupiter rams rudely into vamping Venus and the Loony Nodes in a scrofulous cosmic ménage a trois, all as a ghastly preamble to mischievous Mercury moving into perverse reverse. The Heavens erupt with hellish fury! Marvellous opportunities appear or disappear on the instant and woe betide you if you don't take what's on offer or put down that which is over and done with, all at a moment's notice. Persons with exaggerated manners and great wealth will come or go in a sudden or alarming manner, as may also be the case with poor people in peculiar clothing. Friends may pop up or pop off or simply rant and rave, all at the drop of a hat. You may win, lose or spend vast sums of dosh. You may purchase expensive things, join a secret society or have nasty intercourse (eek) with accountants, black magicians or persons that work in houses of ill-repute.
The New Moon comes in Aquarius, sign of the idiot god, and your status will be quite reversed or turned on its head. You may deal with a vain, foolish or inebriated figure of authority, one that cross-dresses or talks affectedly or, indeed, you may become such yourself. As dark Pluto, god of the underworld invades the nether regions of vamping Venus while the great Sol Invicti slithers into the ghastly sign of the Fishes, you will launch a new career path or make friends with gamblers, psychics or longshoremen. As grim Saturn and narcotic Neptune meet in a ghastly embrace, you may buy a home you cannot afford or slam your front door in the face of someone really important.
Vamping Venus enters addlepate Aries and your solar twelfth house and you will have secret affairs, develop a gambling problem or eat too much sugar whilst watching movies about female gangsters or arsonists. Marauding Mars clatters into idiot Aquarius while mischievous Mercury batters his way into that same sign by means of the back door and you will fight with surgeons or persons in the brewery trade. You may change your profession again, become confused about what you actually do for a living or argue with persons in authority about social justice or the importance of Abba in the musical history of the world. By the time the month comes to an end, you won't be able to remember if you practice magic but you will spend lots of money, have lots of sex and wonder what your life is for. If there is anyone with an interest in this tedious subject or your insufferable self, I'm sure they will email you on either topic.
In the meantime, I have almost lost consciousness, consumed as I am by the two-headed beast, creeping ennui and screaming boredom. To the little brown bottle and the silver tube, say I! Should I think of a reason to get out of bed in manic March, I may write something on the subject. Should you think of a reason to do same, you may click here and read it. For the nonce, my tiny bullish twerps, ave!