A Fevered Pitch

In yesterday’s post I asked a general question regarding whether or not astrological influences have had an effect on the recent emergence of the masses and various individuals from out of the closet of festering anger or ills. Checking into several astrologer’s predictions, most reputable sources indicate that there is a planetary influence afoot that does cause more than the usual mass uprisings that result in changes of leadership on a large scale.

The same influences also affect the earth, creating massive weather disruptions, increased earthquake activity, and locusts to swarm over your homes and to land on your car if it’s not parked in a garage. Nix the last part; retain the rest. The credible part of what I read is that many of the sources wrote of these conditions last year – well before anyone could have imagined what happened in Egypt and what is now in action in Libya.

Nevertheless, I was unable to find a decent planetary breakdown in the time available to me for research. Until I dig further, as well as consult a few astrologers I know, suffice to say I may be on to something - but, if so, what does it really mean? I had a thought and a feeling; shared it in a post, and promptly began to feel the onset of some kind of “bug” that sent me to bed, off the computer, and into the dregs of TV rerun-land until I fell asleep with the TV blasting away until the wee hours.

Could it be that this little bug has been hiding-out within my system for months and decided to wave hello now because of the insinuated nefarious planetary influences of the moment? Of course I’m joking.

Apparently I have a bit of a fever. I’ll use that as an excuse for weak humour, placing a disclaimer here that anything else I write today should be taken with a mound of vitamin C, D, chicken soup, Zinc, weak herbal tea and warm clothes.

I could try other forms of medicine such as Charlie Sheen’s Tiger Blood, but I’m leery of showing-up at his gate for fear that he’d let me in and pay all of my debts, turn me into the Madam of his Goddesses, and make me watch his web stream meltdown without the ability to grab his sad arse and haul it out to the on-call ambulance to place him in a 72-hour lock-down for his own safety.

I don’t believe what is happening to this man can go on unabated without damage to more than his obviously already damaged brain for more than a few hours – or days. Intervention hasn’t worked. I think it may be time for a Black Ops effort to crash that lad’s sorry pad. We may be a society/world of voyeurs with respect to watching dramatic trainwrecks in motion, but I’d like to think most of us do not want to turn into vultures.