Astrology Is Fake, But Brad Pitt Got Owned By A Gemini
Most of us, by now, have read that GQ interview with Brad Pitt. We have at least clicked through the slideshow. We have looked with our heads tilted sideways at the photographs of him wearing costly jumpers and wriggling around in the sand. Crying sincere-seeming tears out of his sweet blue eyes. Smiling with visible effort while wearing sunglasses so as to obscure the after-effects of said tears. Rolling confusingly down a dune at twilight. Hugging himself while lying down. Hugging himself while standing up.
The accompanying interview was even more hectic. If Brad Pitt was my friend and I read that interview, I would go to his house straight away in order to ask him if he was OK. He would answer the door, emaciated. He would be holding a cup of matcha in both hands in a futile attempt to warm them. His hands are always cold, now. He would be wearing that $1380 dollar Bottega Veneta jumper and as he raised his hand in greeting, some desert sand would fall from the cuff onto the floor. He would say Yes, of course I’m OK.
He would be lying to me and to himself. Read the interview again. He speaks throughout in the voice of a man who thinks that he is fine but who is not fine, or even in the neighborhood of fine. His are the words of a person to whom something has Happened. A person who has been recently and comprehensively owned. He has been worked the fuck over. He has had a number done on him. He has been, in the words of interviewer Michael Paterniti, “put on a journey he didn’t intend to make”.
One day he was Brad Pitt, and the next day he was a man who says this kind of stuff like it is totally standard: “It’s been a more painful week than normal — just certain things have come up — but I see joy out the window, and I can see the silhouette of palms and an expression on one of my kids’ faces, a parting smile, or finding some, you know, moment of bliss with the clay. “
One could read this interview as a cautionary tale about fame and its attendant corrosive effects, or about toxic masculinity, or about how a childhood spent in the vicinity of charismatic Christianity can mess you up something terrible. OR. Or. You could read it simply as a cautionary tale about what happens when you run afoul of a Gemini. This is what happens when you and a Gemini have been moving around this world together in what you believed to be harmony and then kapow. The ambush. This is what happens when you forget that you are the Roadrunner and the Gemini is first the cliff and then the terrifying expanse of open sky.
Angelina is, of course, a Gemini. She is mentioned only once in the interview, but her presence is everywhere. Every word has “Angelina” next to it in brackets. Angelina, Queen of the Geminis. Lord of the Dance. She is the thing that Happened to him. She is the thing that is Happening to him still. The interview is titled “Brad Pitt Talks Divorce, Quitting Drinking, and Becoming a Better Man”, but a more accurate title would have been “THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU CROSS A GEMINI.” Maybe just “A GEMINI DID THIS.” Maybe “ANGIE I AM SO SORRY AND I HAVE LITERALLY NO IDEA HOW TO MAKE IT UP TO YOU BECAUSE I DO NOT UNDERSTAND YOU AND I NEVER DID.”
Brad Pitt is a Sagittarius. A mere child! What was he thinking? He had absolutely no business messing with a Gemini. Geminis are for experts, only. They fuck you up. They may not mean to, but they do. A Gemini will escort you off the premises of your own life and you won’t even realize it until you are cuffed and in the back of the van. They will put you on a journey that you didn’t intend to make. You must not allow yourself to get downwind from one until you are prepared. Even then. You will never really be prepared because they will come at you from an angle that makes nonsense of the rules of physics. They are possessed of a terrifying, glittering life force. They are Something Else.
It’s not even worth it to say that they are erratic, or easily bored, or impulsive. No point saying that there is no predicting what they will do, or when. I mean, they are, and there isn’t, but to reduce them to these qualities is to imply that they can be understood. To imply that they can be understood is to imply that they can be defeated. To imply that they can be defeated is to tell an outright lie. They cannot. Brad Pitt will tell you that for free.