Psychic Sibyl : Your Monthly Horrorscope | August
Congratulations: you’ve got the part!
You have been selected at random to form a jury of mortals in the court of divine law. As part of this important civic duty, please anticipate your imminent teleportation to Contemporary Ancient Greece. Here, I shall pick you up myself at the previously agreed-on location (the designated oath swearing chamber). (Please dress appropriately)
i.e. no jean shorts,
You will appreciate that all matters pertaining to the case itself must not be discussed beyond your fellow jurors (with the crucial key exceptions of High Street baristas, local newsagents, hot-evil-hot dissertation supervisors and co-bloggers). This is to ensure the safety of yourselves and to protect the reputation of the incriminated gods under prosecution. Please find attached further guidelines for how to conduct yourself under oath/the new lunar cycle.
Aquarius [ Juror #1 ]
My advice to you, Juror #1, is to stop trying to intellectualise the circumstances you now find yourself in. Whilst it is perfectly understandable for mortals to want the proceedings to be as 'interesting' as possible- your casual reading of Dostoyevsky will neither give gravitas to your verdict nor endear you to your fellow jurors. Playing Devil's Advocate might go down well in your Philosophy tutorial but here in the court of Divine Law, we answer to higher forces of evil. So next time you find yourself wanting to 'spice things up a bit,' try currying favour with Hades- okay?
Pisces [ Juror #2 ]
Unlike your neighbouring juror, you will opt for resolute silence throughout the entire deliberation process. This will create both intrigue and distrust amongst your fellow jurors. It will also land you with the nickname- Silent Dawg- but you are okay with this. All that remains now are non-verbal forms of communication; who needs to chat when you've got a can of pringles and crunchie bars? Your snacks preferences are definitely loud enough!! Not to mention your choice of radical political T shirts- judging by which, Silent Dawg, its probably for the best that your opinions remain Silent.
Aries [ Juror #3]
Juror #3, your mother has urged you to see Jury Service as a positive experience. More than that, she thinks it will be a good career opportunity, insisting you make a good impression on the judge in case you get headhunted. This strikes you as odd, seeing as you have just graduated in Fine Art, not Law, and the Art School grad Legal conversion course is not one you've ever heard of. At this juncture I haste to remind you that your mother is also a mortal, and her sources are far from reputable. a) anything she says about the divine legal system should be taken with a (large) pinch of salt and b) next time she makes a face at your latest conceptual light sculpture, or avante-garde bilingual soundscape, just say "Its called art, mom, look it up?"
Taurus [ Juror #4]
The micro-climate in Contemporary Ancient Greece seems to have had an adverse effect on your temperament. Judging by your decision to observe long siestas in the court room, you appear to have left behind your sense of shame in the mortal realm. Using allocated discussion time to catch up on your sleep and resume your lucid dreaming alternate state of reality in which your unconscious self plays the part of a 16th century cartographer..... is a very bold move indeed, and is it really necessary, Juror #4? My advice to you is to wake up and smell the coffee, did you know that Pret and doing a Summer Subscription? [which you can get for free if you use my discount code ___Summer___sybil____ ] !!!
Gemini [ Juror #5]
Oh Nana. You may be as old as the hills on Earth, but here in Contemporary Ancient Greece, you can't flex on the age card -that shit doesn't work. Don't forget the Sybils and I view each of you humans with the same indiscriminate contempt-regardless of your mortal age - and any efforts to impress us with your anecdotal accounts of the French Revolution will be a waste of time. If you really want to be elected as Foreman, you are going to have to try a little harder, Nana (if that even is your real name...)
Cancer [ Juror #6]
If this trial were a Channel 4 court room drama, then you would be most definitely be a coked-up extra watching it all play out from the wings. Booing and hissing when the defence come out is all well and good; but your conspicuous incorporation of a Styrofoam finger into your court-room-outfit is frankly insensitive. A man's life is in your hands. And no amount of popcorn flinging tantrums will take away from that fact. Remember your surroundings; and if you must befriend Juror #7, she would much rather share your Pret Coffee Subscription than your Sweet&Salty ButterKist snacks. Take a hint.
Leo [Juror #7]
Turning down Juror #6's offer to share their Pret Coffee Subscription is the biggest powerplay this courtroom has seen since … since the defendant accused the prosecution lawyer of "rambling on" during cross-examination. In other words, it was painful to watch. Not only because you are denying yourself a very beautiful friendship; but because more importantly, YOU NEED ALL THE CAFFIENE YOU CAN GET! How else are you supposed to frantically complete the first draft of your autofiction before the case is through.?!... Uhhhh....How else are you supposed to manically plan out all the satirical horror-scopes for your co-owned blog before the 1st of the month!?![that is what the juror's notebooks were for, right?]
Virgo [Juror #8]
Looking down at your outfit, it's clear that you are living out your #Hot Felon Pinterest board dreams. Everyday is a Fashion show for you; Juror #8. Today you have gone for Smart Casual with Great Legs. And you wonder, Are criminally good legs enough grounds for a re-trial? Catching your reflection in the sulking defendant's shining armour, you question whether its legal to look this hot in court. As the youngest cast member in this Kafka-esque adaptation of Hot Girl Summer, you certainly are making an impression, alright. Even the Court room artist has been reinvigorated by your image, sketching away madly from across the room, selling off-the-record rough portraits of you when the judge isn't looking. Surveillance-cam-Chic is your new aesthetic.
Libra [ Juror #9 ]
As I so politely pointed out to your colleague, Nana, simply being old is not enough of a reason to be elected Foreman of the Jury. If you really want to win over your other jurors/rivals , stop showing them photos of your great-grandchildren and the letter you got from the Queen on your hundredth birthday!! Why do you still carry that around with you anyway? Instead, try appealing to your fellow jurors on an astrological level- you are a Libra, after all, and as depicted by this sexy gif art, you are represented by the Scales of Justice held by Themis, the Greek personification of divine law.
Scorpio [Juror #10]
For reasons that I cannot disclose without the presence of my lawyer, I will not be providing you with any nebulous life advice, Juror #10. What I will say is this: A man's life is in your hands, and for as long as you keep your nails/ pincers that sharp, you're putting us all through unnecessary torture.
Sagittarius [Juror #11]
I thought I said no jean shorts? Your persistent pattern of anger, defiance, and vindictiveness against authority figures could be a sign of Oppositional Defiant Disorder [ODD]. For this I suggest, you channel all negative ODD energy into a new occupational displacement activity: have you ever made banana bread? Because, I'm telling you, limiting your hobbies to combative archery and horseracing, will in no way help you break the cycle of toxic ODD masculinity. Banana bread is good. You will like banana bread. Hey, where are you going? Are you even listening to me?
Capricorn [ Juror #12 ]
Oh Juror #12, you Capricorn Woman, you. Being an active listener is all well and good until the tabloid press get involved. So please, when the chief editor of The Oracle online approaches you after court, do not "hear him out" or engage in any kind of conversation. Its been a whole millennia since he had your best interests at heart and even longer since he brushed his teeth. Share any details with him and you risk being in contempt of Divine Court. It is my job to remind you that- a) When the fun stops, stop- and- b) if prosecuted for leaking confidential information, you can face a maximum sentence of three cycles of generational turmoil and bad sex for 700 years. follow us on tuiter @CurrentFairly @PsychicSibyl