Dear Fellow Shape-shifters, Cowering Peasants, and Assorted Victims:
It is my pleasure as always to address you annually upon the occasion of The Full Moon in Cancer. Today and tomorrow we celebrate The Great Festival Of Mood Swings, the annual event where our usual rampages through the darkened woods are charged with a most delightful extra edge, and the screams of our victims seem to take on a particular musical quality which are a soothing balm to the ear, in a world which all too often is run simply on logic, reason, and good manners.
This year, however, it pains me that I must address certain misconceptions about both The Full Moon and the very nature of Werewolves.
The Full Moon has long been renowned as a time when the civilized impulses wear thin, and that insomnia and irrationality are in full effect. It has a reputation for getting on one’s nerves, for causing bouts of anger, and shortening tempers. This is, of course, entirely nonsense. That sort of thinking somehow implies that you were all logical, calm, well-rested, saintly beings in the first place. The Full Moon in Cancer will do its very best to strip away that thin and shoddy veneer of gentility, and for this we should all be grateful. I know I am — it’s a real pain in the hindquarters having to spend the rest of the month acting all courteous and sympathetic to those around me when, like you, I am surrounded by idiots.
Those of you born in the last third of the Cardinal Signs (Aries, Cancer, Libra, and Capricorn), or those of you with Mars, Uranus, or Pluto in those places will be feeling it the most this year. To you, my sincerest congratulations! You will be most strongly visited by The Gift Of Wildness. Perhaps you should warn you friends and loved ones now. Or better yet — don’t. That look of surprise on their faces when you change shape in front of their eyes is priceless!
Now, as for those of you who refuse to believe in werewolves: such stubborn nonsense! Such cowardly hiding behind the skirts of rationality! It is one of life’s delicious ironies that you deny our existence, when you yourself (or someone close to you) is about to be transformed by the Full Moon into a rampaging beast, on a wild and relentless mission of…
<<EDITOR’S NOTE: We’ve had to remove several paragraphs here, Matthew. Beliefnet is a family-friendly operation, and we don’t want to scare anyone off. Also: we’re going to be reviewing your contract here because of this, and we aren’t in a particularly good mood today. Get ready to pack your bags, Astrology Boy.>>
…only to wake up Thursday morning wondering what came over you and what caused all the mess.
So get out there and enjoy the full range of impulses and moods that come naturally with any Full Moon, but most especially with a Full Moon in Cancer.
And as always, to you Sexy Brooding Goth Vampires… you simply don’t exist (or shouldn’t), so get lost. I’ve got half a mind to rip you to shreds myself. Step aside and I’ll show you what a real monster can do.
Now… laissez les bon temps rouler!
Cuddlemuffin Fluffysnout XXIII, Rex Lycanthroporum