“I am the clown with the tear-away face
Here in a flash and gone without a trace.”
Is Gemini truthful? Can Gemini be trusted? Of all the signs, he’s the one forced to wear the stigma-stamp of insincerity.
Before you head out to trick-or-trip-your-neighbors this Halloween, you’d better bone up about the trickster.
If you’ve seen The Nightmare Before Christmas (if not, tsk tsk… the Oogie Boogie’s henchmen will show up at your door in two weeks) there’s one little character, other than the Pumpkin King himself — voiced by Gemini extraordinaire Danny Elfman — that you might wanna notice.
Gemini is The Clown with the Tear-away Face: A picture of glee, he tears his grin off… revealing nothing but darkness.
If you’re curious what the jester’s darkness is about, and how a high laugh turns into a deep roar, dream on.
I meant, read on. Sucka.
Maybe Gemini’s just lost his head…
…but I debunked that maddening myth. So what’s really behind his fun little grin?
Johnny Depp is a tootie fruitie tumble in Geminiland. From a crazed Willy Wonka to a laughing Mad Hatter, a drunken Jack Sparrow to Ichabod Crane crying “headless horseman!” he wears some mighty hot poster pants for this sign.
In Part 1, I said the “break” for Gemini comes from the outside — another way of saying the trickster’s trauma runs deep.
Depp’s (kind of has a ring with depth or death, doesn’t it?) Willy Wonka is more than a sizzle-drizzle of morbid. A victim of parental trauma, he takes it out on bratty kids by flushing them out of his fun-factory. The gloom-filled hearts of Depp’s wonderfully bizarre, alienesque characters — starting with blade-handed Edward Scissorhands — grounds his zaniness.
He makes you laugh… but he can also make you cry, in the same vein.
Why do laughter and tears sound so similar? The secret is in Gemini.
There’s something that makes shadow spirits stick to Gemini. Like his patron god Hermes, some of those demons from his time spent guiding souls in the underworld follow him back into the upper world.
Gemini’s not light, as you’ve caught a sniff of by now. Gemini is haunted by his demons, with a kewl caveat — he won’t let ’em hold him down.
Here’s where the real madness erupts… in the form of HA, HA, HA!
Humor, my friends, erupts from pain.
Devil — deliciously, yes, if he gives in to his impulses. The rest might as well be under the pile of shiz that naysayers say when faced with their own reality.
I’ll spit out the juicy bit first: If Gemini appears (sometimes psychotically) detached, it’s because he knows everyone is full of it.
The sign that comes after the BULL has gotta be sure not to STEP into the BULL SH-T.
He can only do that by watching out for places where the bull’s excrement dwells. Gemini learns quickly that the crud can be buried deep… by stumbling into it.
This sign is branded a liar. GEMINI isn’t the one lying. Gemini asks one provocative question. While his opposite, Sagittarius, demands “are you honest ENOUGH?”…
…Gemini says, “How dishonest are you?”
An interviewer once remarked about Gemini Jolie‘s baffling tone, that she sounds “half like she’s messing with you and half like she means every word.”
Gemini looks and sounds tricky. But is it a trick?
There’s the feeling Geminis don’t mean what they say. This bubbles up from the light tone they use, even when talking about the most horrific experiences. And, a testimony to their great gift: They always have a way of turning the tables on you.
Gemini has a wonderful, natural Pan-like sense of mischief and mirth. But, despite what it coos like, Gemini never nips at your brains just for da heck of it.
When Danny Elfman’s Clown pulls off his face, his high squeaky voice becomes a deep, dark roar.
Tricks. Lies. The biggest trick is the lies you tell yourself, as Hugh Laurie’s Holmes-esque Dr. House will gloriously tell you. Gemini isn’t afraid to call you out on your bull brine. But, while he seems detached from the deep significance of this, his probing is for his own consolation.
Gemini takes comfort in playing The Game. It’s a game everyone plays, a masochistic soup of half-truths sloshed over blatant untruths. Gemini is soothed by the trickery.
Amused by how what you say does or doesn’t match what you do, Gemini observes all of it, with relish. He won’t step into that shiz again.
Because of the great wound, Gemini needs to know. Do you hurt, laugh, cry? How much? How much is too much? How far does what you say go?
What plays out as an emotional disconnect is a voracious emotional appetite.
With the same breath of an uplifting symbol, Hermes is intensely penetrating. Gemini needs to poke. By taking his phallic staff into all three realms (earth, sky, and underworld) he churns with stimulus ready to burst at the seams.
Who else can boast about poking all three holes?
If he can’t experience the meaning, the buzzer’s got to keep busy with the active energy of the meaningless. But is it truly meaningless?
Gemini needs to buzz. Like a madness, interest can trip over into the realm of fixation.
Scorpio is thought to fixate, while Scorpio tends to do the thing Gemini doesn’t — dwell. Gemini keeps it movin’. But the more Gemini looks for nourishment where it’s not, the hungrier he becomes.
Gemini doesn’t set out to play with hearts. He has an intrinsic need to stay connected to life. He is the animating energy, a human neurotransmitter, giving you the signals you need to create life.
As you already learned about Gemini’s provocative edge, social intercourse is not so innocent.
Gemini does sometimes try to fulfill his need with the most readily available activity — sex. While Sagittarius is seen as the wild one, Gemini’s sexuality is a natural, breezy emotional release at his best… manic at his worst.
Few things fulfill Gemini’s truly voracious hunger. The Gemini/Sagittarius axis is the movement for meaning and revelation. The craze is expressed in the “mutable” (meaning in flux) nature of this chaotic pole.
As an active, animated sign, Gemini has to fill an energetic deficit with somethin’. But, even after the longest intrigue and interest… he feels continually dissatisfied. The feeling that there’s more can’t be shaken off.
If you want to watch the Gemini impulse burst to colorful perfection, I dare you to watch this.
Gemini is the “WHAT’S THIS?”
But more often than not, he ends up asking, what have I done? It’s because few things match Gemini’s own heart, with his dark experiences and disappointments. He loses the best of his heart to the underworld — the only place where the “realist’s” reality truly lives.
On the bright side (Gemini’s gift to man), Gemini looks for life after death and during it.
The social butterfly is a loner at heart. Born alone in a cave, life can’t keep up with him because he’s always releasing his pain. The movement is a catharsis. Gemini is blessed with a love of movement to create a natural and healthy release.
So take a cue from Gemini and party it up!
Actually, the cave-born baby’s buried depth borders on the spiritual.
Instead of intellectual sharpness, Gemini sometimes grows up with the stigma of not being so bright or being superficial.
The worse things are, the more Gemini needs to play. Stigmatization and an environment that lacks the sustenance Gemini needs gives so much more than good grades to his character. His reality grows ripe and fat with emotional intelligence. The child that seems “dumb,” on second glance harbors the most human awareness.
The alien feeling erupts in the Gemini/Sag axis. Gemini develops a magnetic intelligence few can rival.
If Gemini does hold superficial affections, Gemini knows he’s got to go through the surface to get to the meat. While Sag would love to skip the grit, Gemini enjoys the experience of knowing the goo. It’s partially a breather from the deeper churnings inside him, but it’s also his sharpness in parceling out the bull brains from the grime.
He knows a delicious truth, that sh-t makes up most of a person’s reality. People think of Gemini as broken, when Gemini is the only one that makes no distinction between the deep and the superficial.
The fool is the one that separates.
The thing that makes Gemini appear airy, especially in childhood, is something he never really releases. This thing is also one of his wonderful gifts.
While Sagittarius yells out loud about his dreams, inside every die-hard practical Gemini is a dreamer.
A young Gemini, in comparison to his later cutting pragmatism as an adult, can be caught singing out loud.
Where is Gemini’s la-la land? Is it real? Can you go there?
Abso-skele-lutely! Gemini is a consummate lover of life, in all its dazzles. He looks for the dream in his every-day experience. While one Gemini finds it in the liberating release of surfing a wave, another might experience it decorating a truffle.
Folklore believes Gemini is The Disconnect, the broken one.
To dive into the heart of Gemini, I invoke the spirit of Orpheus. He’s been the inspiration of singers for ages. Like Gemini, he’s seen as a charmer. His songs can literally charm anyone, man or beast.
The singer of songs holds the truth of Gemini. The music (also an invention of Hermes) is Gemini’s beauty. The mind is Gemini’s beast.
It goes like this: Orpheus charms the god of the underworld to let him take his dead wife back into the world of the living. To bring his love back to life, he has but one, wee little condition. Don’t look back at her until you’re back up. Easy, right? Wrong.
Yep, you guessed it. Heartbreaking as it is, Orpheus makes the deadly mistake that is Gemini’s undoing.
He almost makes it. His heart goes with it, but his mind doesn’t trust it. Surrendering to the anxiety of his thoughts, he looks back… and loses her forever.
He had one task, to trust his heart. But the mind is the true devil, as Gemini learns and then brings to other people’s awareness. The lesson of Orpheus, and the “mind” is that all fear originates in the past. Release the past, and you are free to move on with life.
“Losing his heart” is literal for Orpheus. As if in punishment, the primal women of flesh-and-heart-centered Dionysus tear him limb by limb.
Like the talking head that Orpheus became — separated from his flesh — Gemini wants to remove himself from the pain of loss.
Gemini feels. Gemini just doesn’t trust others with his emotions. The charmer that’s most suspected of disloyalty has a hard time believing you can be counted on.
He’s a devil because he’s been dealt the devil card.
The dismembered state of Orpheus is the condition for comedy. Humor happens in the asymmetrical moment. Humor is the break. The incongruous. It’s funny. Because pain is disproportionate. Pain is murder. Pain is loss, reality breaking apart for a mad moment.
There’s deep symbolism in the Clown with the Tear-away Face. Gemini’s glee is a cover for the darkness. When he takes off his face… there’s a void.
But it’s the void ripe with gestation.
The HEAD of Orpheus becomes a legendary Oracle. Gemini’s emotions are so intense, he has to work with reason to keep going.
The beauty of the head is in leading the way forward. And Gemini wants to do just that. The singer of songs is not detaching. Polished by his pain, he steps into another, pithier role. He lights the way ahead for others.
He becomes the music.