The Inner Monologue

Let’s face it—the weather has been extra lately. Hurricanes with personal vendettas, wildfires that seem almost sentient, floods that mock our infrastructure like a bad Yelp review. Sure, scientists keep saying it’s climate change (and, okay, fine, it probably is), but have we considered the other obvious explanation?

Maybe we’ve angered the old gods.

Think about it. Humanity has spent the last few centuries bulldozing sacred groves, drilling into the earth like it’s a juice box, and generally acting like we’re the main characters of this planet. Meanwhile, ancient deities—who, let’s be honest, were always a little petty—are probably sitting in some divine realm, sipping ambrosia, and muttering, “Oh, so NOW they don’t believe in us? Watch this.”

• Heatwaves? Ra, Egyptian sun god, cranking up the thermostat because we turned his temples into tourist traps with overpriced gift shops.
• Freak storms? Poseidon, still salty (pun intended) about plastic in the ocean and that one time we mocked his trident in Aquaman.
• Volcanoes erupting? Pele, Hawaiian goddess of fire, reminding us that yes, she does exist, and no, you shouldn’t have taken that lava rock as a souvenir, Karen.

Even the plagues of locusts and murder hornets feel like a very on-brand move from some forgotten trickster god who’s just done with our nonsense.

So, by all means, keep reducing your carbon footprint and voting for sane environmental policies. But maybe—just maybe—throw in an apology to Gaia. Light a candle for Thor. Pour out a little kombucha for the spirits of the land. Worst-case scenario? You look like a weirdo at a dinner party. Best-case? The hurricanes stop personally targeting your commute.

Either way, the planet is sending us a message. And if it is the gods, well… let’s hope they accept gift cards.