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Asperitus Casting Runes...

The Oracle of Bitter Truth for December 2001
BITTER ARIES...

Dear little ram type things! It’s often said that there’s less to you than meets the eye. This is a simple yet compelling piece of wisdom the rest of us know to be true. This month will doubtless bring this fact home to you as well, despite the contention held by many (myself among them) that self-awareness and self-realization are friends far away in the case of your repellent and rambunctious selves!

A FULL MOON in the airy sign of Gemini wrestles with the great Sol Invicti in the sign of Sagittarius, launching you into the month of deleterious December. You’ll be running about the place, bragging about how smart you are and how you have the athletic capabilities of an individual half your age (your approximate mental age in most cases though there are some who feel this estimate is somewhat generous). All this of course is a preamble to the great crusade (refer last forecast) that you will finally and actually get underway this month (finishing what you start being a prominent issue for raging rambunctious). As Mercury the messenger conjoins with the great Sol Invicti and Venus the goddess moves into fiery Sagittarius early in the month, you’ll be flying to far climes, fearless of terrorist threats (you, yourself being one) and dreaming of sex with persons of some foreign persuasion. However, sober Saturn, lord of fateful reward joins the party, troubling you with further communications from secret operatives and plaguing you with doubt (largely justified) in the matter of your ability to carry through the campaign to avenge the suffering of sheep in the name of the Sheep Mother. As Mercury the messenger and the great Sol Invicti conjoin with underworld Pluto, you decide to dispense with the operatives and go solo. You’ll abduct the Italian minister of agriculture while she/he is on holiday in Venice (you’ve always liked canals and Italian food). As mighty Mars moves into Pisces and your solar twelfth house, you purchase a frogman outfit and secrete yourself in a boatshed on the waterways of this ancient city.

As the NEW MOON comes in Sagittarius on December 14th, bringing a solar eclipse, you slip into the murky depths and begin to track your target as she/he goes hither and thither in her/his armour-plated gondola (Italians have a history of political assassination so they come prepared). Strangely, as underworld Pluto conjoins with Venus the goddess, you conceive a secret fascination for your prey. Perhaps you’re falling in love with her/him? Great heavens! What will you do?

As Chiron the wounded healer is now in angst-ridden and bureaucratic Capricorn, conjoining with Mercury the messenger, you begin to reflect on the tragic treatment you received at the hands of parents and teachers in your childhood. Every time you stole a shiny red car, discharged a firearm or threatened an annoying person with a knife, they called you foolish and stupid. In this morass of self-pity, you begin once again to doubt your abilities. Thus, you lose faith in your power to achieve your evangelistic goals.

Next, the solstice brings the great Sol Invicti to the sign of the Goat. A multitude of celestial bodies then perform a series of cosmic acrobatics too tedious to describe and you take to drinking heavily (Jupiter in Cancer in your solar fourth house is of course involved). You sit by the canal, lamenting your tragic fate. Ruffians and street urchins take to kicking you and swearing in an odious foreign tongue (you are in Italy) as they pass through the stench of your wine-soaked breath. Then, as mighty Mars in fishy Pisces squares underworld Pluto, you fall, a sodden wretch, into the canal. Is all lost? Will you drown in an alien waterway among the flotsam and jetsam of a foreign land? Who cares! Not I! But such is not your fate, little ram type things! Or is it? Just as you’re dreaming of a wet Christmas, in the dead of night, a concerned voice cries out over your watery grave. Strong arms wrench you from the grip of death. An angelic face beams over your wretched form as ministering hands minister, as only ministering hands know how. Ye gods! What’s this? It’s the face of your intended prey, the minister of agriculture! What will happen now? Click here next month and find out. I suppose I will have thought of something by then.