four-of-lizards

First, a note on the above sentence. I am not in the habit of writing such words as “crap”. My dear friend Anais Herschel, now fully recovered from her traumatising ordeal this past spring, offered this input when I found myself at a loss for words. We at S.A.U.C.E. have discovered a new potential headquarters and are busy as bees moving one book, card deck or piece of furniture into the building at a time, so as to not alert the owners. Remember that we are currently on the run from the law as well as penniless. Treasurer Sorina Jones believes it may take all of November to complete our move. By sheer coincidence, the nice young lady who uploads my words to the blog you read before you is participating in National Novel Writing Month, an event that she believes will negatively affect her ability to help me. While we are on this hiatus, I invite you all to peruse the archives of this blog.

Until December, my friends.

Your perpetual servant,

[NAME WITHELD]

Placement: The Negligible Arcana

Description:

Four lizards prepare for the long winter of hibernation. Some have nightcaps and pillows. Often one has a cup of hot chocolate. Occasionally one will hold a teddy tortoise in its stubby reptile arms. In rare instances, there may be a nightlight reminiscent of the moon from The Moon card, however sans dog, wolf or lobster.*

Right side up:

Fours in tarot indicate a need to stop or at least stay the course. In the case of lizards, it means hibernation. As the doomed lords of a certain fictional medieval alternate dimension famously repeated: Winter is coming. Find a hollow between rocks or in the mud and allow your ectothermic blood to resemble a crimson milkshake. Ensure that you visit the lavatory before you sleep, lest you need to (god forbid) leave your bed in the middle of February.

There is a traditional lullaby in Reptilian culture, whose lyrics translate as follows:

“Hush little one.

Peel off your human skin and lay yourself down

Pick the parasites from your sweet scales

Winter arrives

The horror of it. The ice and slush. The static cling.

The ever-mocking snowmen, the skiing enthusiasts.

I will punch them for you, in their smug wet faces.

Hush baby. I will punch them.”

Upside down:

Four of Lizards reversed is the card of insomnia. Under the covers, you are too warm, but without their protection, you freeze like a skier-punching Reptilian child. There is only one cure for hibernation failure, and this is to use your near-unlimited earthly resources to locate and slaughter the groundhog responsible for the never-ending misery of winter in all its forms. Repeat as necessary.

*Martian lobster men being the sworn enemy of our hidden Reptilian masters.

Classic Four of Lizards deaths:

  • Misery, a side-effect of winter
  • Rioting hockey fans
  • Grenade snowball
  • Directly inhaling ice-melting road salts
  • Zamboni collision
  • One too many off-key renditions of “Let it Go”
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