Editor’s note: This article is a humor column.
The 2024-25 academic year at the University has been one of many monumental events, with decisions from Grounds to the federal government making their mark on the University. As a result, The Cavalier Daily’s exhaustive coverage of these debacles has been exactly that — exhausting. While these two writers’ memories may be foggy and our ability to give thoughtful commentary is fried, our understanding of how to reach you kids these days is immense. Therefore, we decided to translate our artful coverage for this unprecedented year into the pinnacle of journalism. The magnificent result is a Buzzfeed-esque astrology quiz.
ARIES — President Jim Ryan soft-launching the University’s financial loss
President Ryan recently emailed all University employees, promising massive cuts to spending and freezes on hiring. And just like President Ryan compared the University’s growingly awful economic situation to the pandemic in his email to employees, Aries takes a manipulative sense of pride in comparing their $20 Cane’s order to the 2008 Recession and saying it’s not that bad. Aries are masters of explaining the situation to sound not as horrendous as it actually is. While we can only hope that our University recovers from whatever dire financial straits we’ve been placed into, we know that Aries will continue to stay afloat with $15 in savings and a dream.
TAURUS — The classic on-Grounds housing horrors
Taurus, you are deeply reliable homebodies — just as reliable as the human rights violations going on in on-Grounds housing. Similar to the way that you love your Do Not Disturb button, Housing and Residence Life also loves to ignore all those pesky student health concerns from mold, bugs and crumbling infrastructure. Perhaps HRL is spending their down time assigning resident advisors via dartboard and blindfolds. In any case, you’ll always find time in your schedule for a nap to avoid confrontation or homework, and if you’re living in Bice, you might as well sleep in a Hazmat suit.
GEMINI — The University’s last-minute tweaks to tent policies
Right now, we can hear your classic gaslighting, “What’s the big deal about tents, hmm?” Your pathological inconsistency perfectly reflects the University’s eleventh-hour changes in order to violently disperse protestors — intertwined with the most Gemini action of just changing the wording to legitimize what you last messed up. You can never get over a mistake, and neither can the University. Stay petty, Gemini.
CANCER — The resignation of U.Va. Health CEO Craig Kent
Cancer, it would take 128 people saying you suck at your job for you to get a clue, as well as over a year of internal review for you to actually make a decision. Although you attract disciples with your commitment to care and vibes-based approach to life, we all know that you aren’t built to be employed. We’re certain that you and Kent both have sent text messages saying “Why is everyone mad at me?” with at least seven question marks — and perhaps, it’s time to turn off Instagram reels to truly reflect on why.
LEO — The dissolution of the Diversity, Equity and Inclusion Office
If there is one defining trait of Leos, it is your attention-seeking. Knowing that everyone would be on their phones, the Board strategically made this major decision right before spring break — right as you were gearing up for an entire Instagram spread of your trip. You may not always be making the right choice, but you’ll always leave a lasting impression which creates plentiful debriefs for years to come. Leo, we beg that you stick to curating jaw-dropping outfits and not taking away integral functions of our University.
VIRGO — President Jim Ryan’s Executive Orders website
As unofficial champions of the “um-actually” in their discussion sections, Virgos best connect with fellow Virgo President Ryan’s dramatic unveiling of his Federal Information website. This website, with a view count of six people, has all the receipts that a Virgo could ever want. However, the lack of substance appropriately sums up your sensibilities — you’d rather say that the University administration is exercising an abundance of caution in articulating the impediments of … than just admitting you failed big time.
LIBRA — The Board of Visitors’ far-too-delayed decision on gender-affirming care
Libras, asking you where you want to eat is exactly like asking the Board to not devastate life-saving services — it is endlessly postponed. You always try to make everyone happy, but you tend to forget that compromises can’t be made with Republicans and/or Leos which make up 100 percent of the Board. Similar to the way that you’re always somehow late to dinner, the Board took their time in responding to public outcry and failed to support those who needed it most. We can’t promise a perfect balance of Board policymaking, and we can only hope you balance your 10-15 situationships at any given moment.
SCORPIO — February’s week of public safety alerts
Scorpio, your pathological mysteriousness is no better exemplified than in these alerts. Waiting for hours — glued to our phones for any update — felt eerily similar to texting a Scorpio friend about how their day is going. Although the University eventually choked out a response on what happened, we couldn’t help but wonder whether the speed of response was inspired by a Scorpio PR intern in their “unplugged era.” Scorpios, you keep us safe, but boy, do you keep us guessing.
SAGITTARIUS — The beyond sad turnout for the 2025 Student Council President
You’re adventurous, charismatic and creative — all things that student government leaders are not. And we know that you haven’t been reading our coverage enough to name an administration decision. Therefore, Sagittarius is exemplified by the low turnout for the first competitive Student Council Presidential election in years. Most importantly, we know you just forgot to fill out the form.
CAPRICORN — The termination of the University Guides Service
Only a Capricorn would drag out a beef this long — and we can’t tell which side best exemplifies it. Would it be the Guide Service, stubborn enough to demand the University take them back after a semester of being told a soft “no?” Or would it be the University administration getting so in their feelings that they suspend, ghost, write diary entries about and THEN terminate the organization? Either way, we know you have an iron-clad opinion about it that all of your friends have heard at least twice.
AQUARIUS — Bert Ellis as a concept
Aquarius, you are truly one-in-a-million. And while there are a million reasons not to like you, you do have your shining moments. However, perhaps you have too many of your moments trying to set yourself apart from others — from excessively using oldhead vocabulary to flexing that you brought a razor blade to student dorms. You’re exactly the type of person who gets invited to the function, before you’re politely asked to leave for trying to do sorcery or being a tad too racist. We won't miss you.
PISCES — Whatever’s left
You’ve scrolled through this article, wringing your hands in anxiety and imagining exactly what mean thing we have to say about you. Pisces has the easiest answer, but also the most frightening. Dream big. If the administration finds anything left to destroy at our University, that’s exactly what you’ll be.