Reykjavík Grapevine - sep. 2021, Blaðsíða 31

HORROR!SCOPES
Hello There!
Hello there! Hello there! Hello there!
Words: Tot!l Astrology Expert H!nn!h J!ne
Yousa thinking dat the amateur
astrologers of the Grapevine donta
live in a galaxy, far, far away made
of computer animations and stilted
dialogue? How wude!
Aries
If you’re having any physical
abnormalities this month, best
head to a surgery center for
some help. And if it’s named
after a genocidal maniac? All the
better! (Yeah, for reference, and
this is real—the center Palpa-
tine brought Anakin to after the
fight with Obi-Wan is called the
“Emperor Palpatine Surgical
Reconstruction Center.” Appar-
ently, one of Palpatine’s first acts
after taking over the Senate was
to name a hospital after himself.
Good one, George Lucas. And if
you’re unhappy with the adjust-
ments, we heard the Lord Volde-
mort Psychological Institute
has some great therapy options
available—provided you’re a
pureblood.)
Taurus
What are midi-clorians? Tbh, no
one knows. So please don’t bring
it up when you’re stoned at after-
parties. Stick to more accessible
questions, such as, “Yo… dude…
how long do you think that tree
outside has been there? I bet it’s
seen some shit…”
Gemini
Are you a clone? Or does your
grand plan to take over the uni-
verse as an immortal, endlessly
supported by tubes with fucked
nails seriously involve starting
as a lowly politician on a random
planet? So Gemini, first off, get
your shit together. Order 66?
Then the First Order? Then the
Final Order? That just makes no
sense. Behind your back, your
friends are like, “Dude, I am
lost.” But it’s true Gemini energy
to totally fail at everything and
then pretend that that was all
part of the plan. I guess pretend-
ing that you always wanted to
lose two Death Stars and then
be thrown down a shaft by your
best friend is an ability that
some might consider... unnatu-
ral.

Cancer
When dealing with trade disputes,
there’s no one better than a Cancer
to call on. Not only do you think
quickly on your feet—and appar-
ently run really fast—but you're
also totally immune to droid
shots, which is an admirable trait.
So in September, take on an inter-
national issue and throw yourself
headfirst into it. We’d recommend
global warming. What could go
wrong.
Leo
Here’s a fun exercise to wow
your friends at the post-COVID
parties. Get them to describe
certain characters without using
their appearance or profession.
Han Solo? A ruffian rogue with
a heart of gold. Princess Leia?
An outspoken fighter finding
her place as a leader. C3P0? A
tentative, nervous robot with a
surprisingly courageous core.
Now try Qui-Gon Jinn! He’s um,
uh, well, you know...
Virgo
You said it best: “There’s always
a bigger fish.” And with ground-
breaking oceanic wisdom like
that, Virgo, perhaps you should
change your career from a wise
soldier into some sort of ocean-
ographer or marine biologist or
something. Scared of fish? Bet-
ter get home before your bones
start achin’.
Libra
For the next month, try to
refrain from making jokes. They
won’t land and instead, you’ll be
the drunk girl downtown who
bursts out with comments like
“I don’t care where in Iceland
you’re from, that’s gotta hurt!” or
“Now that’s what I call partying!”
This will certainly affect your
future merchandising sales,
which is *totally* not why you
exist at all.
Scorpio
We get that there’s something
strangely alluring about that kid
you babysat ten years ago when
he was nine and you were 14 but
just… don’t. Seriously, don’t. Ev-
eryone will be super weirded out
by it, and it will totally overshad-
ow any large, poetic love story
you were supposed to share at
your wedding. In fact you might
end up getting married alone,
accompanied only by your iPad
or something.
Sagittarius
Stay away from the beach. You
know why. (Unless you want to be
an overused meme, that is, which
is probably a Sag’s lifelong dream.)
Capricorn
Developing an exercise addiction
will be a fine addition to your
life, Capricorn. Get that World
Class subscription!
Aquarius
Keep doing what you’re doing
and you’ll be just as useless as a
droid army against ten Jedi. Just
like poetry, it’ll rhyme.

Pisces
The stars warned us to never
mention one line in this reading,
but as Obi-Wan aptly stated,
only a Pisces deals in absolutes.
Which is, of course, an absolute
in itself. Which makes us won-
der—was using an absolute to
say only evil people use absolutes
some sort of subtle wisdom
about how there really is no good
or bad side? That both are hypo-
critical militias blinded by their
own arrogance? Or are we giving
you way too much credit when,
really, you just say things you
think sound cool as hell and deal
with the consequences later?
WELL, YOU ASKED
An American
Abroad

Words: Desirai Thompson
Icelanders love to know what others think
of Iceland. Well, you asked — and an
American newcomer answered.
Is living in Reykjavík all it’s cracked
up to be?
After spending years dreaming of liv-
ing in Iceland — here I am. With an
address in !"! and a new-found obses-
sion with mango/peach Collab, it’s safe
to say I’m a full-fledged Reykvíkingur
now. Did I once daydream of having
happy hour at Kex several times a week
with the striking view of Mount Esja
over my shoulder? Perhaps. Do I instead
find myself falling into bed at !#:""
every day, worn down by the city’s ubiq-
uitous hills? Abso-freaking-lutely.
What did you think would be differ-
ent that really isn’t?
Electric scooters. With basically eve-
rything downtown within a $"-walk
or so, I was hoping this fad wouldn’t
be as prevalent in Reykjavík. But now
you’re not only darting around tourists
with selfie sticks to get to that meet-
ing on time, you’re also navigating
around teens on Hopps going $" kmh.
It’s real-life Frogger on Bankastræti.
Whew. Now that I got that off my chest.
You wanna know the most stunning
thing I’ve learned since moving to the
Icelandic capital? Curly fries taste the
same in every language — and they are
essential on a hungover Sunday after
one too many Bríó.
31The Reykjavík Grapevine
Issue 09— 2021
CITY SHOT by John Pearson