Dear Abby for psychos
Discordia's resident astrologer answers real questions from real readers.
Haruspex. Astrologer. Empath. Since the age of 37, Joshua Chris Bouchard has felt a powerful intuitive connection to the spirit realm, and has dedicated his life to helping seekers find their way. Now, he has kindly offered to put his clairvoyant abilities at our disposal as Discordia’s resident soothsayer. Whether your questions pertain to love, work, creativity, or even the nature of existence, the Horoscopes of Josh hold the answers you seek.
This month, Josh responds to real questions from real Discordia readers in need of his advice. Submit your questions for future columns to discordia.sucks@gmail.com.
Dear Joshua Chris Bouchard,
I’m 25-years old and just graduated from Carleton University with a master’s degree in mechanical engineering. Thankfully I landed a job right out of the gate, and I’m working my way up in the agency. One of my coworkers, let’s call her Jen, started at the same time as me. We hit it off right away. We have lunch together, sneak out for smoking breaks, and always make hilarious jokes about work or current events. I really like her and want to ask her out on a date, but since we work together, I’m afraid it will be awkward. Should I back off and just focus on my career or take a leap of faith on a potential love match? Thanks Joshua, big fan of your bullshit.
Signed,
NICE GUY IN A BIG PICKLE
Ottawa, Ontario
Dear PICKLE,
It doesn’t matter what you do. It’s over for you, man. Whether you ask her out or not, it will lead to the same exact outcome. You will both die. Your career means nothing. Love means nothing. What is love anyway? Electronic impulsiveness in your brain. Chemical imbalances. Psychological warfare. The machinery has gone haywire. Emotional intelligence is a myth in the same way every human is a myth to the other. But it remains true you will never know unless you choose one. So choose. Either path has no exit. However, by the very nature of your question, it’s clear you want me to tell you to ask her out. To actually take that leap of faith, you need me to give you permission. You need courage. So then, do it. I absolve you of all of your sins. Please write back to me to let me know how it goes. This could be the beginning of something brilliant. If I never hear back, I’ll assume you’re dead. How does love feel to the dead?
Dear Joshua Chris Bouchard,
I lost my keys. What the fuck?!
Demurely,
HEART FILLED WITH DELICIOUS ANGER
Montreal, Quebec
Dear HEART,
I’m sorry this happened to you. We all lose things in life. Sometimes our keys, sometimes our entire souls. Sold out to the lowest bidder. An anonymous face in the dark. In the shadows they offer you tremendous power. You could overcome any challenge. All you have to do is lose. Once. Maybe for eternity. It’s a gamble, I admit. But it’s your choice. You’re in control. The keys are just a symptom of an illusion. They aren’t your keys. They don’t unlock anything. I assume you have already looked everywhere for the keys. If you haven’t, then I pity you. Did you even try? Are you that lazy? Well, I’m sure you did your best. Forget the keys. Forget that you have a car or house. Forget that locked doors exist at all. Walk through walls, record and observe. Nobody is watching you as you open every drawer and cabinet in the house. But they know you’re there.
Dear Joshua Chris Bouchard,
My husband and I decided to explore our darkest fantasy. I can’t remember who brought it up. Maybe when we were both tipsy. It wasn’t a decision we made lightly. After months of talking about it, going over every detail in our minds, we made a reservation and booked a flight to France. We were seated and served a glass of red wine. Then, it finally arrived at our table: the ortolan bunting. The ortolan is a small bird prepared by force-feeding it grain, drowning it in cognac, and frying it in its own fat. We draped napkins over our heads and hid our faces as we consumed the birds in their entirety. Including the heads, of course. It was glorious. Pure pleasure. However, after returning to our hotel, my husband started coughing violently. He was choking, but only half-way, and was in tremendous pain. He received emergency X-rays the next day. It was the ortolan still lodged in his throat. Its bones and beak scratched at his insides. The doctor told us, in all seriousness, that the bird will either be stuck there forever or they can remove it in an operation that will kill my husband.
Joshua, what do we do?
Desperately,
I WENT TO FRANCE AND ALL I GOT WAS THIS LOUSY ORTOLAN
Toronto, Ontario
Dear ORTOLAN,
Every human being on planet Earth experiences desire. Some people will go to great lengths to see their desires out to the end. Desire is a person’s way of expressing their inhumanity. The ortolan is a consequence of believing in something that doesn’t really believe in you. Deep down, in the small space of your gut, there is a black hole sucking in everything. But it rejected the bird. Interesting. I recommend your husband leaves the bird in his throat. Until he dies. Learn to live with it. Learn to like it. Embed it into your memories. Over time, you and your husband will start to relish the thought of it slowly rotting. The smell of turning meat when he coughs. The bone fragments on your pillows from drooling in his sleep, and how they prick your skin like slivers. The constant choking and torture. Let it become a brand new desire. A new way to experience, as you called it, “pure pleasure.”
Everywhere you go, everything you do, the world will continue to accept you. Be thankful in your shallow graves. If you both listen carefully, you will still hear the ortolan scratching on the insides, and you will experience pure ecstasy.
Joshua Chris Bouchard is the author of *Burn Diary* (2023, Buckrider Books), the lead singer of the band LINENS, and the editor of BAD DOG MAG. He lives in Toronto, Canada.Listen to the latest from LINENS on Bandcamp.
Crazed and hallucinatory in the best way! Love it.
Insane. I love it. xx