The Trouble with Clowns

Funny, or just creepy? Clothes stolen from a homeless corpse

If you're thinking this is going to be one of those shitty "top ten" lists that grace B-material web pages and occasionally stuff your e-mail inbox, then you're not giving me nearly enough credit. One wonders why you bothered clicking on the link at all unless you: a) hate clowns dearly and are looking for a support group, or b) you've been molested by another one and are looking for things to read during the opening statements at the trial.

Scientifically, clowns are defined as "an unfunny vortex closely associated with bad art." While the comic strip "James" immediately comes to mind, clowns are equally full of cliches but actually a little more disturbing. When you add the "sad clown" into the mix, you push far beyond disturbing into "please, make it stop" territory, like finding a trunk in your attic dripping blood. Nobody needs that. Heck, nobody was surprised to discover that John Wayne Gacy, Jr. was a clown; the real surprise is that fewer serial killers were clowns, and that the government didn't finally round up the clowns, like they did the communists under Senator McCarthy. Except that the government didn't actually execute any communists, and clowns need to be dead to be funny.

Not scary enough to be clowns

It's not like people have to be clowns. You're not born with it, like some kind of freakish mutation, these are people who consciously put on scary makeup, and the odds are against it being Halloween or needing to run on stage in front of a legion of screaming fans. I should point out that Kiss doesn't actually try to be funny.

But it begs the question: why? If you can get close enough to a clown without being killed to ask them what makes them do it, the answer is usually something stupid like, "I wanted to make people laugh." But that's like becoming an accountant because you love the outdoors. Sure, you might be able to work some of that in, but you're setting yourself up for an uphill battle.

I'm not saying that there are no legitimate reasons for being a clown, but "to make people laugh" just isn't one of them. As a public service, please review the following list before considering becoming a clown:

• I'm actually uglier without the makeup

  Think twice before making this career choice

• I'm the Joker
• My brain damage is extensive
• I'm involved in an insurance scam where I need to frighten somebody into having a heart attack
• I'm really, really into horror movies
• I'm in a band
• My job involves entertaining the developmentally disabled
• I'm a serial killer
• I have several minutes to live and want to leave a really funny corpse
• I'm French

Before you leap to conclusions, it's perfectly normal for one of the above to apply to you. It doesn't mean you have to immediately become a clown. In fact, if only half the things in the list apply to you, then you probably still have better options available, like becoming a lawyer, or insane, or both. If all of the things in the list apply to you, then you really will leave a funny corpse.

Keep in mind that people who want to be clowns have to go to great lengths to avoid noticing that normal people dress up as clowns only when they want to be scary. Required material for clown hopefuls: Stephen King's "It", any album by Insane Clown Posse, Poltergeist, Killer Klowns from Outer Space and Patch Adams. Any of these should make you realize that clowns aren't funny -- if not, then continue watching your old "Martin" tapes, it will at least keep you off the streets.

Actually painted on velvet, and not as a joke, either.

Being a clown isn't the creepiest thing to be though -- you can be one of those people that collect clown stuff. "Collectors" are the people who like a thing, and decide that they need to own more of that same thing. This is what fuels the madness that is eBay, where you can actually buy old gum wrappers for your collection, presumably because you hit some kind of limit on how many you can generate by yourself.

If you're thinking, that's not so weird, I had a stamp collection, you're missing the point -- unless you also had stamp-shaped sheets, wore stamp shaped glasses, had a stamp shaped stuffed animal, and if somebody gave you a dildo with a stamp theme you'd place it on your stamp shelf next to your stamp-themed shot glasses to round out your collection. These are the types of crazy bastards who collect "clowns," but with less restraint. These are people who lovingly place grade A, bona fide nightmare fuel on display not just for other people, but for themselves. What inner demons are gnawing at their souls, I can only speculate, but I suspect that being surrounded by crazy clown crap is like poking the demons with sticks, which can only end up with a police chase through a trailer park.

To put things into some perspective here, I'd like to point out that nobody collects mimes. As enraged as the dimwitted capering of the average mime can make you, at least the mime didn't say to himself, "I really need a big red nose, some huge shoes and some male pattern baldness to spice things up." Well, if he has, it's not a mime. You've been duped by the most dangerous kind of clown, and instead of punching him in the face as instinct would dictate, I suggest you back slowly away and contact the authorities. Hint: That's not ketchup on his shirt.

It's important to appreciate talent

Aside from an affinity for looking like the angel of death on a bad acid trip, one might argue that a good clown has talent and dedication. This isn't really in dispute, as anybody who has seen a clown juggle volkswagens or pull a bear on a bicycle out of their nose can attest to. It's really what you do with your talent that counts. Nobody cares how incredibly talented you are on the piano if you refuse to play anything but "chopsticks." People on Animal Planet use the phrase "talented pet" all the time, so you can see where talent gets you.

By this point, people who have the least shred of respect for clowns have stopped reading and are busy trying to send me hate mail while wearing oversized white gloves, and everybody else is saying, "I'm already convinced that clowns are a walking horror. But what can I do?" Well, it's too bad we already lost the clowns, because if you were a clown, you could just refocus your inevitable killing spree to target adults in face paint. Sure, this might result in the deaths of a few mimes and rabid sports fans, but you can put jumbo clown noses on them and easily avoid the death penalty.

For you non-clowns who wish to "think globally, act locally," we have an idea list you may find helpful for your own anti-clown crusade:

• Convince PETA that clown noses are really exploited voles dipped in paint
• Develop and market a toxic brand of white face paint
• Dress up deer in baggy clothes and rainbow wigs
• Start a "clowns -- the other white meat" campaign
• Hire a clown to open for Iron Maiden
• Channel money and weapons to the Hamburglar
• Tip off the police where the bodies are buried