The Signs of Dumbness

Astrology is one of the dumbest and most worthless things in the world.

Astrology is so dumb, I don’t think a man could even come up with something dumber. That’s because ten thousand years ago, or whenever it was that astrology was crapped out, a man sat down and said, “What’s the dumbest thing that could possibly be. Eureka! Astrology!”

Men invented it as a joke, and men are better than women at it.

But it’s not because men avoid the whole mess completely and file all the bullshit and pathetic minutia in a huge plastic bin that says Someone Else’s Problem — just like how men are better than women at menopause.

It’s true that men don’t give two shits about astrology. Sure, I can tell you which signs are the water signs and that the month you were born in means you like bologna sandwiches more than tuna fish or a kick to the face, but I can also tell you that Bennie and the Jets wore electric suits and mohair suits. What the fuck does it mean? Nothing. And I, just like every other man, don’t give a shit about either one.

It’s all a bunch of meaningless crap that bored men made up with their infinitely powered man-ginations thousands of years ago. That’s good enough for a “better than”. That’s one more point for men. But then why would I also be able to tell you things like a Leo can eat half of its weight in chocolate and Scorpios are laziest on Tuesdays?

I’ll tell you why.

For every lame astrological fiction I have in my head, women have a hundred. For every insipid and vague soup of paragraph life-characterizations that I’ve read, women have read a thousand. They live and breathe it. Women have the whole astrological shit-verse memorized; every page, part, and parcel of purility. And it’s exactly because they’re so desperate to define themselves with something that’s not their long list of fuckups and failures they cling to astrology like the anchor of a sinking ship.

Women don’t look for answers ever. They only look for instructions, which astrology is perfect for. This is your character. This is what you’re afraid of. Women don’t actually want answers because they already have the answer for everything. It’s March, or April — or whatever month they were born. That’s womankind’s final solution. If she doesn’t already know the answer, it probably does exist. And if that ever makes her feel bad, she just has to open up the daily paper to see if she should be feeling bad today at all.

Try it out for yourself. Learn a little astrology as a lark and see if it makes talking to women bearable. It’s like learning magic tricks to treat small children. Try that too.