Tuesday, October 12, 2010
I HATE CLOWNS!
[caption id="attachment_3661" align="alignright" width="100" caption="Pulp Fiction gone too far..."].
And it doesn't take Halloween for these things to happen.
A fun child icon for many, these painted prankster posers embody all I seriously believe to be depraved and nefarious.
Not only do I hate clowns, I despise them.
[caption id="attachment_3669" align="alignright" width="150" caption="Bozo does not make my day..."][/caption]
I abhor them.
I simply LOATHE them.
Can you say "coulrophobia"? It means a fear of clown and mimes, though, I can honestly say, mimes only annoy the hell out of me.
What could have brought on such an aversion to the bogus big nosed folks?
Was the seed planted when I was but a mere 7 years old, feeling quite naughty staying up way past midnight to watch a delightfully scary horror movie while Aunt Pauline laid snoring, the yellow popcorn bowl rising up and down on her belly with each breath? I don't remember any clown movies, but still...
Did it happen during a flu-fever induced dream, where I found myself at a circus where a psycho dressed in clown regalia took advantage of my innocent virtue by squirting his flower in my face, then mocked me in front of others, saying I was now marked by the monsters and he would come and get me?
[caption id="attachment_3670" align="alignleft" width="150" caption="Steven King's IT"][/caption]
Perhaps it was during my adolescence, when all the news reports examined things in great detail, about how depraved men (like John Wayne Gacy) hid their insidious natures behind a mask of pure white makeup and frizzy, blood-like red hair and humongous lips, all the while living as a priest among his flock.
To this day, I'm not sure. All I know is that this phobia of galactic proportions has traveled through time with me.
As my children were growing up, if they received something with a clown in, it was thrown in the garbage. Do not pass 'GO,' do not collect 200 bucks.
Needless to say, we didn't do McDonalds. (Yes. Another way I ruined my son and daughter's childhood. They still lament about it.)
Whatever lanced my psyche has left me with a dark desire to be a professional 'clown hunter.'
[caption id="attachment_3671" align="alignright" width="104" caption="1988 - Killer Klowns From Outer Space"][/caption]
Yeah. I hate clowns.
Could it be that clowns are psychotic? They pretend to be good when they are really evil. I mean, anyone who goes around with a smile painted on that wide is definitely hiding something. NOBODY has that much to be happy about!
Is it possible the clothes yank my chain? Brightly colored, mixed-matched, with oversized shoes, buttons, fluffy ruffles...
...and gregarious pantaloons that hide a multitude of malevolent wares - and he's just itching to use them on you.
Or is it that damnable makeup? All pure white, with exaggerated eyebrows and heinous grins? Folks that have to hide behind a greasepaint mask are truly demented.
[caption id="attachment_3676" align="alignleft" width="237" caption="gaspirtz.com"][/caption]
Yet, I can tell you, with all my love for werewolves, vampires, witches, ghosts, mummies, creatures and zombies, I have never been able to bring myself to watch a movie full of horrific, blood thirsty clowns.
So, it is with great surprise to myself that I am entertaining the thought of penning a story or two about the dasterdly devils. I figure with a fear as impassioned as mine, the result can only be a strong story.
One never knows when a clown will appear.
Do you have something that scares the living be-jeezus out of you, which makes no sense?
Please share it with me, so I don't feel like such a wuss!