Yippy Yi Yo, my surface-wiping lunatics! Last time we left you riding a goat towards the Crack of Doom, serenaded by bestial descant, for strange and magical things had happened in the course of the otherwise miserable, wretched inanity you name as life. A mysterious power had come to you on etheric waves! The gift of speech with the beasts is yours now and is a power that will transform your life or drive you insane.
Read on, tiny turnips, if ye have courage to know which it is. I am Asperitus, piffling prophet, baffling bard and awful auspex! Hark to me and tremble, O wielders of the doily and the dishcloth! These are the vile and bitter prognostications for fateful February where awaits a fearful, frenzied fraternity of farting planets and a whirligig of wind to carry forth the stench unto a benighted earth where the insane gods do rule.
The Full Moon glares down upon the thresh and flail of life, scorching the collective psyche from the sign of lackwit Leo. You almost fall from your mount (eek), staggered by a surge of beastly bellowing and mewling. This orchestra of animals nearly carries you away and it's only by dint of the snappy and agile responses of the goat you're riding that you remain upright. Then, as the great Sol Invicti conjoins in a nasty and aberrant manner with narcotic Neptune, the world seems to change about you.
Great gods alive and dead, what's this! You see the tiny creatures, the minutiae and the details of life as you've never seen them before. As the hiss and roar of ghastly planets too tedious to name farting in aspects too nasty to describe unleashes itself upon this wild wasteland, a disturbing sense of alienation and divorcement from the world of the biped seems to visit your person and surge through the very fibres of your being. And, there's nothing worse, I'm told, than a sense of alienation in the fibres of a biped though, it must be said, much of the edifice of artistic accomplishment is built on just such a foundation as this.
A wild storm erupts, within and without! Jolly Jupiter rampages mercilessly through the nether regions of vamping Venus and the Loony Nodes in an obscene ménage a trois. Thus, you take shelter in a cave, away from the thrash of wild winds and driving rain. Your trusty hircine companion shelters too. You chat about the weather from the depths of this sanctuary in stone, two old friends discussing 'day to day' conditions.
As a New Moon comes in Aquarius, sign of the idiot god, you resolve to set your life on a new track (an animal joke!). You will eschew the way of the biped and take up the way of the beast. And, what's more, as vamping Venus gropes dark Pluto, god of the underworld, while the vain and selfish Sun God slithers into wretched Pisces, you resolve that you will give up the civilized world and make your home in the wilderness, breaking faith with kith and kin. Vamping Venus barges into addlepate Aries and you make fire. Thus, you keep warm, roast a tray of tasty nuts and boil water for an exotic herbal tea, made with a local leaf that Dr. Culpepper claims is safe, styptic and astringent. How delightful and how perfect for it will not only tone the skin and but also help prevent excess bleeding should you happen to cut yourself on a rocky outcrop. Marauding Mars barrels belligerently to idiot Aquarius whilst mischievous Mercury batters his way into that same sign (by backdoor) and we leave you in the cave, sipping herbal tea, chatting with your goat and deftly binding twigs to make a broom.
But what's this? Great gods alive and dead, it's an epiphany, little twerps! It strikes and you sit frozen, twig poised in your tiny hand, the broom unfinished. You wonder if this is the crack of doom that you came to find, the crack that is certes a death knell for your old life and a ring of bells for your new life! Eek!
So shocked are you that you fall down upon all fours. Gadzooks! That's quite comfortable and brings back many happy but indecent memories. Hmm! So, here's the dilemma! Will you stay down and come closer to the beast? Or will you rise again, bipedal and proud of it? Click here next time and see, my silly virginal types! Ave atque vale!
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