Like millions of stupid Americans I freaked out last month when the Minneapolis Star-Tribune (what) reported that some astronomer decided there were actually 13 signs of the zodiac. Since then we’ve learned that the guy might have been wrong, or something, and for most people life returned to normal because they remembered the zodiac is dumb.

But not for me. My world had been turned upside down, my foundations shaken.

No longer was I a stolid, earthy Taurus (born May 5, Cinco de Drinko). The stars lied. I had been born again as an Aries; it was a new, terrifying dawn for me as I realized that apparently I wasn’t actually all about stability, and instead, I just liked to be head bitch in charge.

I tweeted my discontent. I am not an Aries, dammit, I am a human being! But as I researched the new identity thrust upon me, I came to realize that perhaps that astronomer knew what he was doing after all. Something was changing deep inside, and I was losing myself. I searched my soul, and found that, like a true Aries, I love winning and I love being first and I love being masculine. All my life I had been wrong. Certainty swept over me: I am an Aries.

And then the rug was pulled from under my feet. “LOL sike,” ran news reports, “this only matters if you’re born after 2009, or part of the Sidereal calendar, or something.”

Enough. Enough uncertainty, enough of the lies, enough of the faux signs that don’t speak for me or predict the trajectory of my life with middling accuracy. Some of us are true Aries, and some of us are true Tauruses. But not me. In between two signs, there’s a magical mystery moment during which all babies born reach a transcendence. They are not a traditional beast of the zodiac, but a new sign altogether: the Black Swan.

Let’s talk the Black Swan. We are a unique race, forever misunderstood. We are not evil, just really, really cool. We like to smoke cigs in dance studios and spike our friends’ drinks with E we brought with us from San Francisco. We eat grapefruits for breakfast and giant burgers for dinners. Sometimes we stab people. Character traits include:



maybe bisexual

free spirit etc

certain level of disregard for everything

eats grapefruit

eats Natalie Portman

Nicki Minaj

Some born at the confluence of Aries and Taurus are just regular swans. They’re pretty good but not quite as cool, and are always trying to become Black Swans. Only a handful of swans become Black Swans. Lance Bass was born May 4 but he’s definitely a white swan. Chris Brown was born on May 5 and beat the crap out of his girlfriend so he’s probably a Black Swan. Obama is a white swan (cares about poor people); John Boehner, a Black Swan (smokes two packs a day, doesn’t care about poor people).

I’m not as cool as most Black Swans; I’m afraid of doing E, so I’ll never reach high art, because, as the movie tells us, you have to do drugs and have imaginary sex and kill someone (maybe yourself) to make good art. But somewhere on this campus there must be a true Black Swan; one with no fear, one who will do something truly magnificent, and then die.

And it will be perfect.