You will never be a real pirate. You have no eyepatch, you have no peg leg, you have no parrot. You are a third world man twisted by drugs and shamanic rituals into a crude mockery of seven seas perfection. All the “media coverage” you get is two-faced and half-hearted. Behind your back white people pity you. Tortuga island people are disgusted and ashamed of you, your “crewmates” laugh at your thuggish appearance behind an open air dump. Black Bart's buccaneers are utterly repulsed by you. Thousands of years of privateering have allowed corsairs to sniff out frauds with incredible efficiency. Even somali pirates who “pass” look uncanny and unnatural to a sea dog. Your galleon structure is a dead giveaway. And even if you manage to board a british rich man yatch, he’ll just laugh the second he hears of your ridiculous, third worlder 50k U.S. dollars ramsom request. You will never be mighty.You wrench out a fake evil grimace every single morning and tell yourself you're going to rule the carrabeans, but deep inside you feel the depression creeping up like a leviathan from the abyss, ready to crush your keel with its monstrous tentacles. Eventually it’ll be too much to bear - you’ll steal a cheap motorboat, tie an anchor hitch, put it around your neck, and plunge into the warm waters of the Aden gulf. Your crewmates will find you, heartbroken but relieved that they no longer have to live with the unbearable shame and disappointment. They’ll bury you in a mass grave, and every U.N. inspector for the rest of eternity will know a common thug is buried there. Your body will decay and go back to the dust, and all that will remain of your legacy is a skeleton that is clearly cushitic.

7 alignment planets in February (last month of the year for Indo-Europeans).
4 alignment planets in April (month of Lent).
Easter falls on 20 April.

He's back.

Holy shit a Troontenkopf