No! NO! My sign has changed! According to some made up crap by a bunch of people who deal in made up crap, I'm now a Sagittarius, because of planetary movement. Unfortunately for those who care, this means absolutely zero.
The stars are giant flaming orbs of gas, floating in a vacuum. They dictate nothing. They determine nothing in your life. They do not care about you, or your girlfriend, or your job, or your sister's wedding, or your car not starting, or whether you're "the jealous type." They do not get to decide whether you get along with Libras, or can't stand Cancers, or are having a bad day. They don't care about anything, because they are giant flaming orbs of gas, floating in a vacuum. Stars don't even care about stars. If you're lazy, or sleazy, or easily angered, it's your own fault—not the galaxy's.
Which makes all of the media hubbub (and clamoring of shocked idiots) surrounding the shift all the more annoying.
"You may be a Virgo, scientists say," quoth Fox News. Scientists. Scientists.
Scientists are the people who put together and run the Large Hadron Collider.
Scientists develop screens we can bend, find cures for diseases we might catch, and tell us exactly how those (mindless) stars work. But a people who claim to have adjusted the Zodiac in order to compensate for millennia of planetary shifting in order to bring astrology back to its Babylonian accuracy? Scientist is not the word for one of these people. Instead, try dumbass, quack, moron, etc.
But it's actually all okay! The disaster has been averted! According to CNN, it was all just a misunderstanding—the same meaningless label applied to your existence you thought you had have been reverted. I'm a Capricorn again! Which is to say, nothing. It's very easy to avoid disasters that never occurred in the first place, and are the stuff of fiction. Did you hear? The impending Lizard King invasion of North America has been called off! Wonderful news! The stars must be in alignment!
As James Randi demonstrated, horoscopes are designed to pander to our sad little lives. They are generic. They are shallow.
"You will accomplish a goal soon."
"You are yearning for something."
"You enjoy the scent of cake."
According to this pile of shit astrology website I just googled, as a recently-restored Capricorn, I enjoy "hot, simple food, history, not being pressured by others, having plenty of unconditional love, and expensive gemstones." I have such strange and unique preferences! I also dislike "being teased" and "loneliness."It's like the website has known me my entire life.
Like Randi shows, a horoscope can literally be given to anyone (stupid enough), and they will read into it whatever they want in order to feel like there's some cosmic grandpa up there, ready to give you a hug and tell you it'll all be okay. And that you like fun! And have an aversion to being set on fire!
There's no grandpa. There are just stars. Lots of them. Burning matter. Ignorant particles. Maybe it sucks, but please—let's all be quiet about it and just admire them for what they are: gorgeous things that couldn't care less that we exist.
Photo by NASA Goddard Space Flight Center (real scientists)