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Asperitus Casting Runes...

The Oracle of Bitter Truth...
Asperitus Speaks!

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The Master Asperitus, Prince of the Paltry Prognostication, has raised more this month than a manful splutter against the evils of fate and the foolish foppery of a gaggle of ungracious godlings. Since the Master has been grappling for some weeks now in the grip of the ancient, icy fingers of Saturn, that is no mean feat. Bear in mind that the format has changed. Now read on and enjoy the latest transmission from Asperitus, Lord of the Laggardly and Oracle of Bitter Truth...

Ho to you, tiny twerps, twits, twats and twaddling tweeters! Tremble in your baby bootees, for terrible is the terror of the cosmos that awaits you! Yea, verily, will it come like a tumultuous tide, tumbling torrentially from the turbulence of a storm wracked Heaven, crashing down on the ruined roofs of the many mansions of your father's house of desuetude and despair, spilling across the garbage in the gutters to splash into the gardens of your wretched and meaningless lives! 'Woe, woe, woe!' I say unto you and 'woe' nine times again, by which time I will get bored, forget what I'm doing and fall asleep. On the topic of which, I suppose I had better get on with the business of prognostication of a vile and bitter sort.

It is I, my tiny farting children, Asperitus, purveyor of prophetic piffle at a knock down price. Here is your discount serving though, I must point out, the rant and cant here inscribed is not for the current month at all. That's jaded June, for those of you that don't know what day it is! Now, due to mischievous Mercury being in perverse reverse in nasty little Gemini, I lost my notes for jaded June, a month as tedious and forgettable as any other! After a frantic but fruitless search, I became distraught, took a damaging dose of solace from my little brown bottle and then collapsed instanter. Swooning and ensnared in extremis of ecstatic transport, I beheld ghastly visions of the future and the coming of a violent skirmish between Saturn, the lord of death, failure and constipation, and Uranus, the idiot god and the god of idiots. These visions I must now relay to you, as neither of us have anything better to do. This gruesome combat of the giants is due to get underway in the last quarter of a year of chaos, disruption and mind-numbing tedium. Let us name it as 2008 for so is it called!

Quelle horreur! Unnerved more than somewhat by all this prophetic palaver, I nonetheless will pontificate upon my feelings of dread and doom to you dowdy dullard denizens of a benighted universe ruled by insane gods! In the manner of the prophet from time immemorial, I will burble incomprehensibly about what lies ahead until one or the other of us loses interest and retires to bed. Behold the tortuous path you tread to a future more unimaginably hideous than the recent past (eek). Behold the doom that looms on a far horizon as two giants from an ancient past engage in yet another round of fisticuffs and bickering. Jettison your concerns for jaded June and jaundiced July! Allay your fears for awful August! Savage September will slip into obscurity while odious October will come and go. It is noxious November that will sink your aspirations, sour your disposition and savage your fragile peace of mind.

THE CONTENDERS

First among the mighty is grim Saturn, a morbid creature that alchemically fuses his insatiable desire for control with a paralysing sense of futility. All things he touches run from him or contract a wasting illness for which there is no cure. With knocking knees and wrinkled skin, he frightens small children, taunts the elderly and altogether puts the wind up the population as a whole, regardless of their years.

Failure, incapacity and inevitable death are the ruthless henchmen that run riot in the bleak and icy domain of censure and disapproval that is his unconquerable kingdom. He offers no mercy and he will test you then test you again.

Nitpicking and vexatious is the sign of Virgo wherein he currently resides. Under his miserable and critical influence, accountants and auditors, butlers and biochemists, dieticians and dry-cleaners, house-keepers and healers, janitors, mental health workers, nurses and nasty little gardeners will all go about their business in an irritatingly officious manner, interfering in your affairs and finding fault with your work. In the hygienic house of the sedulous and the servile, order will prevail with grim Saturn at work. Yea verily, till such time as comes the crack of doom when the clash of giants shatters the last sliver of human sanity, pushing this naughty world over the brink and into madness, unrestrained.

THE RABID REBEL

Ranged against this god of cautious rancour is erratic and rebellious Uranus, twitching and thrashing on the seven sorrowful seas of tear-stained Pisces where do the vessels of thought and feeling risk shipwreck on the rocks of neurosis and anxiety as they are blown hither and yon by strumpet winds. In such an odious alchemy, the burdened air is littered with tittering phantoms, false prophecies and misguided prescience. Uranus is lord of the unexpected, the ankle, the reversal, the sudden turn of fortune, the shattering cataclysm and remarkable discovery. In the sign of the wretched Fishes, he dreams deep in a gadarene underworld, lying amid a gaggle of gruesome gangsters, giggling ghosts, garish gargoyles, ghastly genius and a gallimaufry of gewgaws and gadgets, sending bubbles of stunning revelation to the surface, shocking into wakefulness the somnambulist denizens above with the snap and crackle of their unnerving little pops.

Spurred on by the inspiration and nervous afflictions of this god of rude and antisocial behaviour, artists will spew contumacious commentary and savage satire, demeaning the person of minor officials and elderly authorities, shaking the foundations of the social order. Paranoid parsons will deny their god three times while cocks crow and parsimonious psychics will save money in their socks as they predict the imminent collapse of the fiscal world. Loutish longshoremen will find god and go to theological college while drug lords, liars and thieves will put aside their evil ways and write 'self-help' books, devoting their lives to aiding the incarcerated, the incapacitated and the inept (a broad field of endeavour). Yet the icons of morality, doctrine and spiritual leadership will in turn prove to be vicious, deceitful, corrupt and self-serving. In a series of cosmic pratfalls from grace will preachers, evangelists, commanders and philosophers be dismissed in shame and disgrace, left to wander the streets in ragged clothes, living on pet food and sweets stolen from small children.

THE HIDEOUS CLIMAX

As odious October turns to noxious November, so will grim Saturn, the lord of constipation set gnarled bones, corded muscles and abrasive skin to wrestle the quivering limbs of Uranus, the idiot god, and nasty will be the encounter. Yea the earth will tremble as seething spawn from the underworld rise from their insane domain to beat at the doors of the over world and beard grim Saturn in his den. Slave will rise against master while a band of clever policemen will design a new kind of handcuff to restrain the unruly, and also knock up a smart line in uniforms of imposing severity. Rebels will stop to consider the cause whilst conservatives will preach recalcitrance and behave defiantly. Wasteful types will wallow in mess and misery while neurotic obsessives will polish their shoes, check their change and count the peanuts they put out for guests. Orderly governments will crash to failure or drown in paperwork and bureaucratic idiocy while revolutionary groups will rise out of nowhere into triumph or resurrect themselves from the ruins of the past. Ghost towns will become populous again while the busy metropolis will fall into desuetude, drowning in dust and whistling winds, overrun by phantoms, feral freaks and fading dreams. Wharves and moorings across the globe will boast burly ferrymen to pole the lost souls to hell across waters as the supernatural world overtakes reality. Small properly-made buildings will stand against storms and earthquakes while the bizarre or extravagant structure will tumble into ruins due to faulty materials, poor construction or unstable locations. Counting will become an Olympic Event while drug testing will be a commonplace of modern life. Eccentric inventors will build their own aircraft, as commercial flight will be so expensive that only the super rich will be able to afford departure tax or a taxi to the airport.

Grim-faced fanatics will promote religious intolerance and fundamentalism, demanding the letter of their laws be kept while hedonists and decadents will, during their weekly moments of functional sobriety, essay every attempt at insult towards the faithful. Those that believe in aliens and flying saucers will disappear en masse as if abducted, causing a great to do and a scare. Ingenious inventors will make brilliant devices, but they'll be derided and rejected by sodding little bean-counters so real aliens will actually come and take them to planets where they're appreciated. There will be wars, bomb blasts, explosions in power plants, flooding in food stores and lots of irritating regulations about what one can and can't do. A new kind of water cannon will be used to control public rioting while showers of more than a moment's duration will become illegal.

Some people will walk in a nastily precise manner while others will twitch and tremble, facing in the opposite direction from which they move or standing on their heads. Geniuses will develop great powers of telepathic communication but orderly little clots will refuse to believe them and have them burned as witches. The conservatives will stone the radicals with the bladder stones they've had surgically removed. Some folk will suffer from bad knees, rheumatism and walk like miserable bastards while others will suffer from cramps, spasms or seizures and bang into awkward corners and projecting edges. Young people will assail old people in the streets while old people will have young people locked up. There will be demands for change in many walks of life, but nitpicking authority will claim that such change cannot be made. People will have to eat really boring food and do without light or heating in their houses. Elderly carpenters will go back to making wooden toys for children but the little brats will complain because they can't find where to turn them on. Eccentric cults will arise and useless lunatic folk will believe themselves to be whales or dolphins or turtles and drown swimming out to sea.

It will become an offence in law to be other than miserable or have one's small intestine in anything less than a state of high efficiency. So will the world turn, consumed by ghastly madness as new alliances form and old ones fall. There will be migration, a new pragmatism and scrubbing will become the cornerstone of a new national exercise program. On that gruesome note I shall retire from my visionary fit.

Ye gods and little fishes but I lie exhausted, savaged by these visions I have told. Yet we are not done, by all the barking bandicoots and belching monkeys! Here are some small pieces of advice (in keeping with your brains), pertaining to both the near and distant future.

To read the bitter, twisted words of Asperitus, click your sign in this table:

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Those of you on the more spiritual path can read more about the true path of this great, if tragically flawed character...

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Many Are Called

Many people are called on the path of enlightenment. Not all of those called can find their way. Of those who do begin the journey of awakened consciousness, many fall by the wayside.

Thus, few ever enter the realm of the golden beings wherein resides the company of the chosen. Of this select few, only one has entered the gates of Heaven by means of insult, corruption and threats of physical violence. This one is Asperitus, runemaster, astrologer, enlightened being and misanthropic recluse.

The Early Years

His earliest years were spent in poverty and disillusion, yet his extraordinary spirit thrived as a precocious master of complaint. Then came his meteoric rise to stardom as a tyro of the tendentious tirade, commenting caustically on the lives of rich and poor, famous and nondescript alike. Here he became known as the "hammer of mediocrity" and gained a fearsome reputation for his exorbitant charges.

This early pinnacle of success was followed (predictably for he knew it was coming) by a bitter pratfall from grace amid accusations of bribery and sexual misconduct (none of which were ever proven in court).

The Four Ignoble Truths

It may have been near this very pub, in Nhill, that Asperitus received his enlightenment!

During the course of his public humiliation and financial ruin, Asperitus retired to a disused public lavatory in Nhill and devoted himself to the practice of meditation. It was here that he found enlightenment (it had fallen out of someone's back pocket when the lavatory was still in use). In a moment of astounding self-realization, Asperitus rejected the gift of inner peace (it was too bloody boring) and took up the path of the four ignoble truths. These state that -

All life is irritating.
One must acknowledge the irritation.
Having acknowledged the irritation, one must criticize it correctly.
One must acknowledge that all irritations are equal and therefore everything is equally irritating.

Having left the lavatory in Nhill with his newfound wisdom, the master now set out to teach the way of the four ignoble truths. It was on his journey as a teacher of the way that he came to the doors of perception wherein he found the path of Vitriolic nastiness.

This is a "nine day" meditation where the first three days are given to constant abuse and insult, the second three are then devoted to incessant complaint and the final three see the seeker retire into a resentful silence that will open the doors of Heaven. At least, they will for Asperitus, given what he charges for this fiasco.

The Soul Of Humanity

Throughout his career as a seer, Asperitus has always turned his evil eye upon the very soul of humanity and seen nothing worth mentioning, even in passing. Tragically, because of a compulsive need to comment upon everything and an obsessive love of the sound of his own voice, he has never been able to keep quiet about anything whatsoever that irritates him.

As everything that lives and breathes irritates his esteemed personage, the stream of venom that flows from his gaping maw seems endless. You may bathe in it at this address as often as you wish. You may email the master if you're seeking rude and insulting guidance, though the cost will be high in both dollars and self-worth.

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The Oracle of Bitter Truth...Asperitus Speaks!