“You’re going to get good news,” remarked Wyrd with her newfound wisdom. “But take care to avoid anything that makes you sad, which could drastically change your fate.”
Photo by Sharon Roth
Ermengarde Wyrd, while at the beach this past Saturday, witnessed a never-before-seen phenomenon her followers are now calling “The Tides of March.” These “Tides of March,” which were claimed to be “slightly warmer waves that one would expect in this weather,” and carried the “ominous tidings of plastic bags and other garbage to the shore,” have reportedly granted Wyrd with insights about other people. Since then, Wyrd has begun divining such things as students’ failing grades, greatest weaknesses, and concealed animosity towards their friends.
“It was a gray, dismal day when I first came upon the Great Sighting,” began Wyrd. “The sun was blotted out by the clouds like gray ink on a page, and I, ignorant of what was to come, was in the midst of escaping the troubles that chased after me; troubles hanging over my head like a cloud that blots out my thoughts like … uh … ” She trailed off, then said, “Well. Long story short: I was procrastinating this essay I had to write by going to the beach, which I knew wasn’t going to be crowded because the weather forecast promised rain. Now, I don’t usually trust stuff like that –– you know, pseudoscience –– but I’m glad I did this time. I don’t know where I’d be if I hadn’t been blessed with this forbidden knowledge.” Wyrd paused, then said, “Wait, actually I do know where I’d be: at my desk completing that essay I got a failing grade on. Huh.”
Wyrd initially had no idea what she had witnessed. It was only hours later that she was given her first “vision.” This was the knowledge that the paper she was writing, with the prompt, “Argue whether or not violent dissent is a morally correct form of protest,” would have little to no effect on her major: Marine Biology. It was then, she claimed, that she knew she had been given a gift that could not be understood by modern science.
“The knowledge always comes to me quite suddenly,” explained Wyrd. “It’s like gut instinct. People come to me, wanting to know themselves, and I just tell them. It’s not that hard. I find it’s never good to actually give people an accurate answer –– just to placate their own insecurities. Sometimes annoying people ask me questions, but it’s such fun getting to tell them how they’ll die. They usually leave me alone after that!”
Since then, Wyrd has been supplementing her income by charging fellow UCSD students for her visions. “Her predictions aren’t an exact science,” said Muir student Amy Let, “But that hasn’t stopped me from basing my entire life choices around them. I’m seeing signs everywhere –– signs that tell me exactly what I’ll do with my life. Thank God! Ever since Ermengarde told me what kind of person I was, I haven’t needed to look inward once. Also, she told me that I’ll be betrayed by the one closest to me, on a Tuesday.”
“I’m so glad that I’m using my powers for good,” said Wyrd, in the middle of telling a mechanical engineering major that they should go into aerospace engineering. “People I’ve talked to must feel so free once they realize that I know all the answers to their personal motivations, and also what they should be looking for in a romantic partner. People are so much neater once they’ve been categorized into easily distinguishable groups! Maybe I should use my powers to assign people their personality types by what phase of the moon they were born under. Or is that too out there?”