Episode II: The Clown Wars

It is a sad state of affairs when the child wears more colors than are offered by the crayons. Such is the state of the infant clown. Bored by the idea of art, it scowls at each crayon picked up. Maybe attempting a drawing on the paper, white as its face, eyes rolled back and the crayon is flung, but not strategically. The crayon falls to the ground a mere two inches away from the infant clown.

The only reason these clown babies are tolerated is because they are quiet. Their attitudes are severe as any infant, but they make no noise. They make ideal passengers for airplanes. No one glares at the parent carrying a clown baby on board.

This is not to say they are well behaved. They are messy, as children are wont to be. However, kept away from toys and noise-makers, they are ideal students as well. Staring, grinning, silent.


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The above is an excerpt from the long defunct propaganda packet ‘Raising Clowns in a Difficult Time’. Numerous people have claimed authorship, however; the pamphlet is likely a compiled group effort. It has certainly gained greater readership than this paper ever will, due to the fact that we’re not sure if the clowns can even read. The above excerpt was found among a pile of trash while this writer was seeking a shelter for the night. Likewise, this paper and even a working pen.

I always thought that should a nuclear war break out, I wouldn’t want to live. But the gradual decay of society as these clowns grew to maturity was something that no one saw coming. These problems are supposed to be foreseen and averted by those smarter than the general public. The side effects of environmental tampering is a constant give and take of fixes for problems, then fixes for the fixes. Likewise, the evolutionary ladder of diseases, outmaneuvering our vaccines and us countering their mutations. It seems however, that no one foresaw the inevitable conclusion of a generation of perfectly-behaved children. Conditioned from an early age to be silent and conformist, like their precursors in the circus.

No one remembers this now, but in my day, circus clowns were not known for conformity. They were supposed to be this anarchic side-show to the rehearsed feats of the athletes, although of course the clowns rehearsed just as much.

It began with a seeking of contrast. It’s good for the eyesight of children to look at images that have differentiated colors and shapes. This is naturally what they start drawing. Some are attracted to clowns because of this, and we let them paint their faces. 

Everyone got a break. Parents, elementary school teachers, baby-sitters. However, when these clowns reached adolescence and still had not spoken a single word, that’s when the job market got nervous. If we’re not raising little factory workers, then what is our use as a society?


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The above is an excerpt from the anti-clown hate-speech manifesto Mein Clowns. Although seemingly by a single author, it is likely a group work disguised as a cry for help by a disenfranchised citizen. As clowns, we are known primarily for silence, but many of us have learned how to write. The practice is frowned upon and exists under a sort of don’t-ask-don’t-tell rule. Writing is very clearly responsible for the dissolution of the society which spawned us. Their need for silence was so great, they created the agents of their own undoing and left us nothing but ruins to contend with. 

We have our own language, difficult to translate into English as it is largely semaphoric. It seems the taller we get, the more people fear us. Although a cultural review of clown history seems to involve nearly universal favorable documentation, there exists a sub-genre of pure terror which is perhaps indicative of a much larger unrest than circus footage would lead us to believe.

It is with great trepidation therefore, that some of us learn to communicate with those who spawned us, so they may teach us the ways of cooking our food and powering our homes. So far, any attempt to speak to a human has resulted in them covering their ears and screaming into a corner while sobbing themselves into a dehydration coma. We will not live long if this continues.


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The above is an organized smear campaign by the Disillisionment Brigade. It could be one person, it could be many. I won’t give them the benefit of excessive contemplation. A truly abhorrent group whose retreat from society displays only a cowardice and utter inability to adapt and compete in a changing world. Many have speculated that they may not even be real. Others claim to have spent time in their monasteries and found their ways of life so simple and harmonious as to induce actual insanity.

There is no escape from being, and endeavoring to live like a tree does not make you a tree. In fact, your efforts to live differently in a monastic setting are no different than the efforts of those of us attempting to raise children who speak again. But those clowns, the kids love those clowns, and the clowns are so good with the kids.

Maybe the key is not in nurture but in nature. We’ve swung too far one way and it’s time to let our DNA do what it does best. Intercourse with the clowns is not only biologically possible, but silent and emotion-free.


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from ‘The Circus Sex’


The above descends into a greasy and puffy description of the mating habits of clowns. While biologically accurate, it is purposefully vulgar with the intent of enforcing pre-clown societal norms. Maybe we shouldn’t be taking advice about the future from those who caused all the trouble in the past.


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