Star Signs of accelerating climate disaster


Aries – Ah, the ram! All rams will die.

Taurus – Ah, the bull! All bulls will die. Except John.

Gemini – The twins! While Mercury loves you, the rising ocean does not. Say a goodbye glug to both your chattery heads!

Cancer – Beautiful crab! At home in the rising sea, yet food scarcity is a real problem. Malnutrition and accumulating enzymic toxicity await you this blessed quarter.

Leo – What’s a lion?

Virgo – Famed for your sense of duty and being a giant virgin, you know better than anyone that fucking a puffer fish does not count as saving the species. However, these are the end times, and there are few left to judge you.

Libra – The scales are always balanced in your eyes, dear Libra! This is strange, because everything has tipped past any kind of balance! Also, your eyes are bleeding.

Scorpio – Cunning, cunning Scorpio. Moody and intense Scorpio. Strong-willed and lustful Scorpio. You have many character flaws, and people are relieved when a new flood-induced vector-borne disease claims you as its first victim.

Sagittarius – Represented by the Centaur. Half-man. Half-horse. So much meat on you! Can you cook it? Share some around? People are dying! Give unto others this retrograde, ya greedy lump.

Capricorn – Wow there’s a lot of these signs! Practical Capricorn, ever the pragmatist – we don’t have to spell it out for you, do we? Dead.

Aquarius – The water bearer! Can’t help but feel you’re involved in all this oceanic rise somehow. Saturn is passing through your 9th house, and it’s frankly disgusting you own so much property – 9 houses? Really? – when millions go wanting? Like idk maybe think about that.

Pisces – My quiet and steady fish-friend! Calm and unassuming through all seasons. I will eat every last one of you. Empty the deep for the last of your kind. Scrape your bones for meat. Suck your tail dry of electrolytes. Mummy is very scared. The wind howls without end. Papa has been missing for months. Little baby has been coughing for days. Our dog was bitten by a manta-bat so we had to shoot him. Mummy said no don’t eat him! But I snuck a bit off his ear. My skin is still rough as sand-paper and not growing back. A music-box plays Under the Sea every time the house shudders and I wonder if I am trapped in a joke. For some reason, I keep thinking of this particular red-state politician, busting out of his shirt, the sweaty pits staining the linen, but I cannot remember his name – as if that matters. A woman floated by a little while ago and offered to do a tarot reading so I shot her in the shins – clean, two shots, right through, I’m getting better at this. As she drowned, the water turned very red and this made a nice change from the unending blue. I grabbed the sparkle scrunchie from the faded purple wisps of her hair, and as is custom, started to record her last words – my moon is – she began, like so many of the others, and I just turned away. I grow bored quicker now, I think. Yesterday, I stared right at the sun and let it lance my vision with pulsing dark spots, the occasional streak of white light, for a few many hours, perhaps longer, perhaps a lot longer. Sometimes you just need to look at something bigger than you.




Vidya Rajan is a writer, comic and performer living in Naarm. You can follow her at:

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