The Seinfeld Character You Are Based On Your Zodiac Sign

Landmark NBC sitcom "Seinfeld" has an ironclad reputation for being a show about nothing. This description makes some sense: "Seinfeld" isn't built around a family like "The Cosby Show" or "Roseanne," or a workplace like "Cheers" or "The Mary Tyler Moore Show." It's just a show about four single, childless, 30-something New Yorkers navigating Chinese restaurant wait times and overdue library books.

Real fans know the truth, however. Over the course of its many seasons, "Seinfeld" becomes a show about everything. It's about the often unspoken rules that underpin society and keep the world from spinning off into chaos. It's about close talkers, double-dipping, and yada yada yada-ing. It's about roommate switches and the efficacy of butter as a skin moisturizer. And above all, it's about the characters. Jerry, George, Elaine, and Kramer's adventures are enjoyed by millions because they're relatable. Though we might not want to admit it, we watch "Seinfeld" in order to see ourselves.

But which character do we see ourselves in the most? As always, the answer lies in the stars — specifically, the astrologically relevant ones. This is the "Seinfeld" character you are, based on your Zodiac sign.

Aries is a competitor. Bold and confident, they won't rest until they're on top. Sometimes, that heedlessness can land them in hot water — but even then, they don't let disappointment or failure get them down for very long. They move fast and break things along the way, rarely being concerned with the opinions of others. By the end of the day, this sign will get exactly what it wants, whether it's a promotion at work or a case of Today sponges.

The title of "Seinfeld" Aries obviously goes to Elaine Benes (Julia Louis-Dreyfus). Anchored by Louis-Dreyfus' iconic performance, Elaine's Aries energy carries her from boyfriend to boyfriend and job to job. She's never more confident than when she's giving little kicks on the dance floor, or putting the Urban Sombrero on the cover of the J. Peterman catalog. Perhaps the best example of Elaine's Aries-ness arrives in Season 5's "The Opposite." In this installment, a series of setbacks leaves her stuck at the diner in glasses and sweats — in other words, she's become George Costanza. Her horror at this fate is proof of her alignment with the cosmic ram.

George Costanza (Jason Alexander) is a terrible person who commands little to no respect from his friends, family, or peers. Yet he walks through life with massive Taurus energy. Taureans are creatures of comfort and luxury, drawn to fine food, culture, and aesthetics. They're not mindless materialists, though: This sign knows the value of a dollar, and isn't afraid to put their nose to the grindstone.

If that last bit about hard work doesn't sound like the George we know and love, consider the following. Yes, George is a lazy, lazy man — but when the mood strikes him, he can be as diligent and dedicated as anyone else. In Season 6's "The Switch," for example, he has two full-blown schemes happening at once: Staking out a restaurant restroom (via Kramer's mother Babs), and plowing through the logistics of Jerry dumping a woman in order to date her roommate. Clearly, he can buckle down when the moment calls for it — specifically, when it could prove him right in some trivial manner, or allow him to be even lazier in the long term. He may not be the most flattering portrait of Taurean values, but he's a Taurus nonetheless.

Gemini is represented by the astral twins. While this is often taken to mean that Geminis are duplicitous or two-faced, this reputation is usually false. Rather, a Gemini has the passion and curiosity of two spirits in one body. Endlessly prolific, a Gemini will always have their hands in one thing or another, whether that's inventing a new winter holiday or a support undergarment for men.

George's father Frank Costanza (veteran comedy actor Jerry Stiller) boasts the sort of madcap energy that distinguishes Gemini. Like so many born under this sign, it's also given him one heck of a past. You say he was an Army cook in the Korean War and suffered from PTSD after giving his platoon a bad case of food poisoning? Sounds about right. He invented a Festivus for the rest of us after a violent altercation with another father over a doll when George was a boy? Sure. He treats his anger issues by shouting "Serenity now!" to the heavens? That checks out. Plus, his Gemini status turns literal in the Season 7 episode "The Doll," in which he briefly meets an Italian man (also Stiller) who may or may not be a long lost cousin.

Cancer is symbolized by the crab, whose hard exterior protects a soft, squishy interior. Accordingly, Cancers can be a tough nut to crack. They might seem distant or aloof, but if you put in the time and effort to get to know them, their defenses lower. Once they feel safe enough, Cancers can reveal hidden depths, secret passions, and even Magic 8-Ball jackets.

Basically, Cancer is David Puddy (Patrick Warburton), Elaine's beefy on-again-off-again boyfriend for much of the series' back half. Puddy is often hilariously laconic, speaking in short, declarative sentences — but make no mistake, the man has layers. He is perhaps the city's only honest auto mechanic, though he finds the term "grease monkey" offensive. He is a die-hard New Jersey Devils fan, and also devoutly (and judgmentally) religious. He and Elaine seem to have little in common other than a potent physical chemistry; in the very last episode, as Elaine has just been sentenced to a year in jail, she implores David not to wait for her. "Alright," he mumbles, as he walks away forever, seemingly carefree — but we know better. Cancers don't take anything lightly ... we think.

Despite the fact that Jerry is a stand-up comic and George works for the New York Yankees for several seasons, there are very few Leos in the "Seinfeld" universe (other than Uncle Leo, of course). High-powered celebrity types rarely cross our quartet's path, unless they're real life celebrities like Marisa Tomei or Bette Midler. This makes sense, really: Flashy, theatrical Leo energy is tough to come by in such a drably dressed, neurotic world — give or take a puffy shirt or Technicolor Dreamcoat.

Enter Jackie Chiles (Phil Morris), the show's Johnnie Cochran parody, a loquacious, larger-than-life attorney who for some reason keeps taking on Kramer as a client. First introduced defending Kramer after he's scalded by an overly hot café latte in Season 7, Jackie's grand pronouncements and eye-catching sartorial style are no match for Kramer's unconditional love of free stuff: He agrees to the Starbucks-esque coffee shop's settlement of free lattes for life before the lawyer has even finished speaking. Jackie defends Kramer and the rest of the gang no less than four times, including in the series finale's criminal trial ... and has yet to win a case. He makes a big entrance and talks a good game, but he just can't stick the landing. Good thing he has his bold Leo energy to carry him through to the next case.

A Virgo is passionate and meticulous, always working towards the perfection they can never fully achieve. They are both sensual and practical — rooted in the material world, yet reaching for transcendence. Is it any wonder that they can be self-destructive, demanding, and just plain angry when their rules are not obeyed?

Soup visionary Yev Kassem (Larry Thomas) is one such Virgo. His soups are delicious — the taste of one makes Elaine weak in the knees — but his counter is run with precision and focus so intense, it gets in the way of people's enjoyment of his art. This earns him the unfortunate nickname "The Soup Nazi." When George politely protests that his order didn't come with bread, Kassem takes his entire order away. When Elaine tries to make small talk and bangs on the counter while ordering, he bans her for a year. But is the soup worth it? Yes — yes it is. Only Kramer seems to fully understand Kassem's passion for soup, and the desire for perfection that ultimately dooms his business. His Virgo energy meets its match in Elaine's Aries-ness, and by the end of the episode, it's no soup for anyone. Next!

As with Leos, a true Libra is hard to come by in the "Seinfeld" universe. Jerry and George have a bit of Libra's love of balance and symmetry in their own peccadillos, especially Jerry's clean freak streak — but neither of them have the aesthetic appreciation that a Libra requires. Kramer certainly has a taste for the finer things, and is himself something of a work of art, but the chaos of his life is very un-Libra.

To find a true Libra, we must journey from Manhattan to Queens, where Bob Cobb, aka "The Maestro" (Mark Metcalf), conducts the Police Benevolent Association's orchestra. The Maestro is a classical musician, a connoisseur of wine and culture, and the owner of a villa in Tuscany. His air of sophistication easily charms Elaine and Kramer but irks Jerry, who refuses to call him by his self-appointed title. Still, no amount of high art and intellectualism can save Bob Cobb from our favorite foursome. Across The Maestro's two Season 7 episodes, Elaine ruins not one, but two different autographed pictures of opera star José Carreras, and Kramer destroys his baton after using it as a pool cue.

Just as a scorpion will lie in wait for the perfect moment to strike, so too will a Scorpio bide their time for the sake of a larger goal. While their passion and controlling tendencies often get them mistaken for a fire sign, Scorpio is actually a water sign, ruled by intuition and emotion. Powerful and sensuous, Scorpios can either be destructive or transformative, depending on the moment. Either way, you won't know until they want you to.

While it doesn't make much sense for a grown man to have a persistent nemesis, it does make sense that Jerry's eternal foe, Newman (Wayne Knight), is a Scorpio. This postal worker is in many ways Jerry's opposite (though not his Bizarro), both physically and in temperament. Hot-blooded and calculating in equal measure, Newman uses people's prejudices against him to his advantage, hiding skills and abilities until it is advantageous to reveal them. You wouldn't think Newman is a monster on the tennis court, a prodigious tree climber, or a smooth-talking lothario, but he is indeed all of these things. Of course, not every Scorpio's sting hits its intended target or inflicts its intended damage; sometimes, as happens after Newman tattles to Jerry's parents that he was making out during "Schindler's List," a Scorpio gets a taste of his own poison.

Sagittarius is the searcher, the wanderer, the seeker of knowledge and experience. There is no situation they can't make their own and no shape they cannot twist into in pursuit of their goal. Can they be blunt in their communication style? Certainly. Why, they might even tell a friend's new girlfriend that she needs a nose job, or blurt out how much that friend's new new girlfriend looks like their other male friend.

Yes, of course, we're talking about Cosmo Kramer (Michael Richards), Jerry's endlessly mooching neighbor from across the hall. It's never entirely clear what Kramer does for a living; it's a little of everything, it seems, from acting out disease symptoms for medical students to sprinkling communist propaganda into his gig as a department store Santa. Kramer's eternal flexibility — physical and otherwise — makes him the only one of the show's main four characters to seem to have a life outside of what we see on screen. He has collected an odd menagerie of friends who are not Jerry, George, or Elaine, from Mickey the actor and Stan the caddy to oddballs we hear about but never see, like Bob Sacamano and Corky Ramirez. Kramer lives in the eternal present, allowing the gifts of the universe to fall into his lap. Even his long-concealed first name, Cosmo, looks to the stars.

Capricorns have a reputation for being straight-laced and buttoned-up. They have goals, and they see to those goals in a patient, determined way, not unlike the way their symbolic sea goat might scale an underwater cliff. To some, they might seem cold and aloof; Capricorns certainly have their empathetic blind spots. But no one is uptight all the time, and even sea goats need an outlet for their less productive energies. Indeed, inside every by-the-letter Capricorn lies a freak flag waiting to fly.

Capricorn may be the defining energy of not just Jerry Seinfeld the character, but also Seinfeld the real-life comedian and "Seinfeld" the show. Jerry is a clean-cut comic and a classic "nice Jewish boy," as The New Yorker noted in 1993; likewise, the show tackles mature subject matter via cute, Standards-and-Practices-avoidant turns of phrase like "master of your domain" and "shrinkage." But underneath Jerry's clean and orderly life is a well of depravity that shows itself in the series' margins, from his utter obsession with bodily fluids to the sheer velocity with which he cycles through relationships. Every Capricorn knows that sometimes, you have to just run wild and howl at the moon.

Aquarius is the water bearer, flooding the Earth with life and wisdom. Crucially, however, Aquarius is merely the vessel of water; they provide it to others for the greater good, standing astride the world like, say, the aloof founder of a celestial clothing catalog.

We're talking about J. Peterman (John O'Hurley) of course, the globe-trotting adventurer and publisher of the eponymous catalog, in which overpriced clothing and accessories are goosed with romantic descriptions of exotic travel and intrigue. While the catalog is real, the show's depiction of its owner is pure fiction, its comedy springing from O'Hurley's performance as a self-important world traveler and the way his pompousness rubs up against Elaine's unimpressed Aries energy. Peterman lives his own legend, whether that means owning a slice of British royal wedding cake or jetting off to Burma while Elaine runs his catalog into the ground. That's how visionary Aquarius rolls, one bizarre jaunt at a time.

There's a curious contradiction at the heart of every Pisces. As the final sign of the Zodiac, Pisces has absorbed all the wisdom and lessons of the previous 11 signs. At the same time, though, Pisces is represented by two fish swimming in opposite directions, symbolic of the sign's difficulty separating fantasy from reality. So what does it mean to be a Pisces, imbued as they are with knowledge and power, yet still at the mercy of capricious whims?

It means you're George Steinbrenner. The long-time New York Yankees owner became a "Seinfeld" character in Season 5, when George is hired on as assistant to the traveling secretary. Played by the back of actor Lee Bear's head and voiced by Larry David, Steinbrenner is erratic and inscrutable, prone to rambling monologues about whatever subject strikes him and drawing the ire of Yankees fans like George's father for his unwise player trades and business decisions. Ever the cosmic fish, Steinbrenner's favor flows with the current, leaving employees like George and his boss Mr. Wilhelm (Richard Herd) in a continuous state of catch-up — or worse, drawn into a custodial religious cult. Typical Pisces energy.