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I can't stand up (for falling clowns)
21 August 2000
I hate clowns. Hate and fear them. Like eating greens or kissing your wrinkled relatives, you're told by your parents that clowns are a good thing - harmless even. Harmless? Are they mad? Stephen King's It scared me so shitless I couldn't even eat those lovely pink wafer biscuits for a month, just because they were called Pennywise like that psycho clown thing and I didn't like to look at the packet. Almost as scary as moths. And a clown doesn't have to do anything as bad as explicitly killing children to be terrifying; Ronald McDonald is a case in point. He appears out of nowhere - always to unaccompanied children - with his face painted to disguise his criminal physiognomy, throwing the youngsters off guard with catchy tunes and offers of beef patties and chipped potatoes. If that doesn't qualify him for inclusion in a tabloid 'name and shame' campaign, consider the Hamburglar: could there be any more poignant symbol for the robber of childhood innocence? And for supposed enemies, the two seem to get on remarkably well once their sick schemes have come to fruition. But because he's got a painted white face and a curly red wig, we let the bastard get away with it. Personally, I blame the songwriters, Smokey Robinson in particular, for encouraging sympathy for these reprobates. The tears of a clown / when there's no one around? It's become a stock image that's lost its impact, a clown staring miserably at the camera with a tear ruining his make-up. No one worries about the tears of an estate agent, a lawyer, a doctor, but they've got to put on a brave face all day whatever problems they may be having at home (and they don't get to paint a big fake smile on; they have to use their facial muscles. Pay them double whatever it is the clowns get, I say). Mr Robinson, I'm sorry you're so blue, but leave the circus entertainers out of it. I wouldn't mind nearly so much if clowns were funny. There is something tragically dignified about a truly great comic figure wracked by inner demons, bringing joy to millions while in the grip of a deep depression, but clowns? Don't make me laugh. And they don't. Look at him, his footwear is oversized and he has a big red nose. About as funny as a tramp who's found a pair of size 12s in the bin. And that water that clowns throw at each other (with hilarious consequences) isn't even water! It's glitter or foil or something. They're not even prepared to suffer a little dampness for their art. Shows how much they care. [Actually, I've just thought of something really good that's clown-related. That bit in the circus in Octopussy when Roger Moore has to defuse the bomb while dressed as a clown, and to start with everyone thinks it's part of the show. That's really good. Dramatic. But you get a bit of the usual clown shit beforehand, which some Americans laugh at. Spoils it, really.] The weird thing is, clowns have permeated our culture - but when was the last time you went to the circus? Ever since someone decided it was cruel to make elephants leap from a blazing tower without a magic feather, circuses (circi? circus?) seem to have disappeared from the English countryside altogether. That should have meant the end of clowndom, thousands of them lined up in dole queues with something to cry about for once. But no. Those idiots that run theme parks decided that the one thing you really need when you've been queuing for three hours in the baking sun isn't someone to offer you a drink, or even a Solero. No, a clown could quench your thirst and cure your sunstroke with an hilarious routine involving an oversized pair of scissors. Last thing. All this stuff with huge shoes, big ladders, giant scissors, extended noses, excessively roomy trousers - are they all trying to compensate for something, suggest they're in possession of something they're not? Typical deviant behaviour. Hang 'em all. [And that film with Bill Murray dressed as a clown to rob a bank. That was shit too.]
FOOTNOTES
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Current clown: 18 December 2003. George writes: This List Most recent ten: 15 December 2003. Jamie writes: Seven Songs Also by this clown: 15 December 2003. Jamie writes: Seven Songs |
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