Apollo – 3★: “Great lighting, terrible bedside manner.”

Filed under: Divine Services, Ego Management, Solar Burnout

The review reads like it was written by someone who fainted from either awe or heatstroke. “Great lighting, terrible bedside manner.” That about sums up the Apollo experience: blinding brilliance paired with the emotional range of a well-polished marble bust.

To be fair, the man (god?) does provide ambiance. His sunlight can turn an ordinary morning into a Botticelli painting. Fields bloom, muses weep, and everyone looks about three degrees more divine. Unfortunately, once you’re within conversational range, the glow fades fast. Apollo doesn’t talk to you so much as talk at you—preferably about his own genius. He’ll heal your plague, but only after explaining the aesthetic symbolism of your suffering.

Clients report that his “healing sessions” feel less like medicine and more like performance art with a moral lesson you didn’t ask for. The prophecy business is the same story: accurate, yes, but wrapped in riddles that make your therapist’s invoices look like acts of mercy.

Highlights include flawless solar coverage, zero empathy, and a five-minute interlude on how no one appreciates the true complexity of his lyre technique. A previous reviewer mentioned their friend being “flayed alive for offering constructive feedback.” Hard to confirm, but the Yelp photos are... suggestive.

Would I recommend worshipping Apollo? Depends. If you enjoy enlightenment with a touch of condescension, he’s your guy. If you prefer your doctors not to critique your aura mid-treatment, maybe book Helios instead—his light’s just as bright, and he doesn’t talk about himself quite as much.

Final Rating: 3★ — Great lighting, terrible bedside manner.
Come for the radiance, stay for the emotional sunburn.