In which our intrepid hero questions his astrologer’s motives.

For only $US106.75 ($141.83 in real money—enough to pay for a month’s train travel between home and work, with enough change for a packet of Smarties), I can get the amulet off to the right. It’s “pure, solid, sterling silver” and about an inch on a side, a replica of one worn by Celts in Russia 3500 years ago. And the Celts wrote the Book of Kells.

It’s supposed to improve my luck or something. If only I believed it.

Firstly, sterling silver’s not pure. It has to be alloyed or it falls apart.

Secondly, that writing isn’t “Celtic” or whatever you want to call it. It’s not even Ogham. I know my Tolkien well enough to know that it’s Elvish. Or mock-Elvish, most likely.

Thirdly, the Book of Kells was pretty damn cool, but it was made only 1200 years ago, still 2300 years after the supposed model for this amulet. Which is kind of like saying that this blog was inspired by Iron-Age artifacts from northern Europe.

Lastly, the Celts weren’t in Russia 3500 years ago. They weren’t really anywhere. They were busy sitting around, thinking to themselves, “Hey, if we stop just sitting around Central Europe, maybe get off our butts and do something, maybe we can become Celts in several hundred years. And then make a killing in the dodgy silver jewellery market.”

Sure, I get my horoscope emailed to me. It gives me something mindless to read, and it lets me know my email is working during quiet periods. I don’t really believe it. Just because I’m on an astrology email list, don’t think I’m stupid.

Spleen vented.