The stars making up the constellation of Aquarius have declined to intervene in the personal life of Wendy Clarke, a 32-year old administrative assistant at a telecoms firm in Swindon. Clarke had been seeking guidance from the stars as to whether to forgive her two-timing boyfriend Jason Watts or dump him for Clive Welsh, the lounge lizard from accounts.
‘I regret to say that, as gigantic balls of gas an unimaginably long distance away from your solar system, we really couldn’t care less about Ms. Clarke’s tedious love life,’ commented Beta Aqr, the brightest star in Aquarius. ‘She managed to decide against taking that job in Reading a year ago without our help, so she can sort this out for herself too. Daft bint.’
Clarke, who was born ‘under Aquarius’ on 4 February 1977, is one of millions of puny earthlings who continue to delude themselves that vast bodies in the distant reaches of the Milky Way can impact their brief and futile lives. In reality, the stars, when not inanimately fusing hydrogen into helium at temperatures in excess of 10 million degrees centigrade, are chuckling quietly to themselves.
Added Beta Aqr: ‘I can understand the single-cell eukaryotic microorganisms on Gliese 876 might be concerned about me, because one big flare from my surface could wipe them out overnight, but Earth? That’s 11.3 million light years away, what possible effect could I exert there?’
The Aquarius stars are also bemused that the ancient Babylonians somehow perceived the shape of an old man emptying a pot of water in them. They agree that, if anything, they look like a horse vomiting into a bucket. ‘And that’s just your immature anthromorphic perspective,’ said Beta Aqr. ‘Viewed from 2.8 million light years further away and 30 degrees to the south, we look more like a giant cock. Which is probably what Wendy Clarke really needs most.’