Clown Politics

Hello, unsuspecting Public.
Hello, unsuspecting Public.

Roll up, Roll up! We, the unsuspecting Public. Tickets are paid for and seats allocated in the Big Top. Watch avidly the exciting exploits and antics of those wearing the baggy and brightly spotted silk dungarees, wearing curly-wigs, over-sized shoes that stomp around comically causing explosions, disemboweling miniature cars. While the duh-duh-durrah music animates further the crazy show. It’s made to look like a series of random events that spontaneously happen all of a sudden and out of apparent control of anyone within the Big Ring, no spectators allowed.
The Ring Master looking dapper and dandy introducing us to Bobo as he makes his entrance. With promises to us all a good laugh and memorable times of happiness and frivolity, while we safely watch on from the comfort of our wooden benches in the dark. The lights flash, the drums bash and the smiley-faced troubadours entrance us with festivities that take years to master.

Sneering and sniggering the antics are well paid for!
Sneering and sniggering the antics are well paid for!

Into the fray now comes Coco, with bright green curly hair that bounces so loudly with every step into the centre that is taken, with apparent dismay and feigned happiness from our prior hero Bobo. The two pretend to be close and friendly rivals with a devious nature thrown into the plot for better effect. All along the script has been well rehearsed out of the eye of the discerning Public. Who eagerly watching on and awaiting the further outcomes of this staged rivalry between the two main players. Even a woman clown may venture in for comedy sympathy. It’s a formula worked out time and time again in every city, town and village the world over.
“On with the frivolity now.” cries the Ring Master as the miniature cars honk their little bugle horns, and crash into one another so haphazardly and deliberately to show off the fabricated safety net enjoyed by the clowns, as they make the audience howl with laughter. Like a drug the tears will run down the faces of the admiring fans who have flocked to the Magic Tent to encourage the mindless antics of those that precede the trapeze, walking of the tight ropes. Not to mention the Chair-wielding Tiger Hunter, who can tame lions, tigers and all manner of Big Cats.
Some skilled clowns can also have fun riding the horse, they can do anything in the zaniest show in town to great effect. They can bounce, from strategically placed trampolines, onto the back of the running horses, and drop off as if their balance was owned by gravity and not the other way round. No matter, the clowns will always roll and spring up again from the floor to fly. With surreal gusto through the air and back onto the horses again. Their compatriot rival clowns may also have decided to join the ride around, a skilled clown can landing backwards on the beast and make it somehow look the right way round. His fellow clown or clowns also upon there, such is the illusion of skill, so skilfully developed.

Have some pie!
Have some pie!

From behind the curtain may pop the beauty draped in jewels and huge feathers atop a magnificent elephant, causing the clowns steam to be ran out. With them no longer the centre of attention, all eyes refocused on the darling of the troop. With bright smiles, and stunning eyes the gypsy girl will impress her beauty by standing on the trotting elephant and spinning as a ballerina with such grace and elegance befitting the occasion and adding more the dividing of the contrast. Oh, how it all works in perfectly with the flow of the night to make sure each Candy-Floss munching child is guaranteed to go home a satisfied customer. After being given the outlet of escapism that is so far from reality that it can’t even be real, yet somehow magically is. Negating the many, many hundreds of hours that the extroverted workers at the Circus have spent finely tuning their big lie to grip and entice every soul into believing it is something more than just a show, as the clowns are in control, let’s analyse the metaphor a tad:



The Clowns also the Jesters of old. They would be the Kings favourite muse, advisers and confidantes. Carrying the burden of making the King laugh on demand, or could be “Orf with his head” when the King be displeased with the Court Jester. He’s not given such privilege for nothing, he’s held in high esteem and expected to fulfil the role accordingly. For tis the King who shall be triumphant in all situations, He is of course the representative of the One True God on Earth and the Fountain of Justice to His Subjects. Indeed, it is the promise of the Jester to provide the King the Sanctuary of his quick-wit even when all about the King maybe threatened. His Court is the place for Courtiers and will be respected as the one place where Safe-Haven is granted to all as assured by the King in reverence to his lofty position as the one who gains the most benefit of the minions. For it is the Kings word that is solemn and dignified with honour. By his actions shall he steadfastly act them out. The leader of the People shall not create a mockery of His own Court, less they may lop off his head.

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