Wednesday, June 20, 2007
Coulrophobia 4: The Sicilian Connection
As I have reported no less than three times before, coulrophobia is a dangerous and rapidly spreading plague. Even I am a martyr to the condition. In the context of this epidemic, one can only admire the cruel, Sicilian genius that inspired a Mafia boss to name himself Joey 'The Clown' Lombardo. He only has to introduce himself to render ever larger sections of the population insensate with terror.
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A blog about, among other things, imaginary ideas - What ifs? and Imagine thats. What if photographs looked nothing like what we see with our eyes? Imagine that the Berlin Wall had never come down. What if we were the punchline of an interminable joke? All contributions welcome.
Coulrophobia, so that's what it's called! I have myself been afflicted by this devastating and disabling condition my entire life - even, perhaps, longer, if it's possible. As a child I suffered from a recurring nightmare in which I was persecuted by not one but three clowns, who lay siege on the family home. One played a tin whistle, and one was armed with a ping pong gun with which he swiftly dispatched the poor babysitter. Clowns are indeed the stuff of nightmares. I have never set foot in a McDonald's for that very reason.
ReplyDeleteWolf J Flywheel
A tin whistle in itself can be a terrifying thing, Wolf. The race is on to find the word for tin whistle phobia...
ReplyDeleteAulophobia - fear of flutes.
ReplyDeleteFlutes are indeed pretty scary, but the tin whistle is played by blowing into it rather than across one of its holes. Tinwhistlophobia might just have to do.
ReplyDeleteSwans, I need hardly remind you, are also terrifying (and have a strangely magnetic effect on passing blogsurfers)...
Crap food is the stuff of nightmares. I have never set foot in a McDonald's for that very reason...well very rarely and under duress.
ReplyDeleteI had one of their cinnamon doughnuts ('donuts') once - the only time any McDonalds 'food' ever passed my lips. Their food is fit only for swans - or, of course, clowns. Or swans in clown makeup....
ReplyDeleteI thought you liked birds, Nige. The Birdman of Bloglandacratz as I've heard mentioned.
ReplyDeleteI don't think that quite worked. I'll have anotehr go.. the Birdman of Bloglandcatraz. No, it's shit isn't it.
ReplyDeleteBlogcatraz perhaps? And I'm not really sure I like birds, except to look at - up close they're not so great, and handling them is slightly scary. Perhaps their beauty is heightened by the faint undertow of repulsion. Rather in the way that eggs occupy that precarious cusp between delicious and revolting - no, that was another post. So were swans, come to that - but swans get everywhere...
ReplyDeleteActually, I think we figured out you were more of an African elephant man.
ReplyDeleteI dreamed last night of the black-tongued swans racing up out of the lake on their evil webbed feet, wings up and flapping, necks curved like a snake about to strike. I ran and ran, but ever did I hear their pinions at my back.
ReplyDeleteIt's all your fault Nige.
O dear, I can only apologise. Try to think of the bell-beat of their wings - then at least they're flying overhead, minding their own business.
ReplyDeleteI hope your son hasn't put anything interesting in the microwave in your absence...
Luckily, he got involved in an elaborate game of manhunt with some friends in a nearby park. No time for lonely scientific experiments in the house.
ReplyDeleteNow he and I are off to NYC to see the much-ballyhooed (and multiply Tony awarded musical), "Spring Awakening." Of course, when I mentioned this to one of our paper's theatre critics, he said, "Your son is going to be mortified seeing this play with his mother sitting next to him." Apparently, there's a great deal about teen angst and the sin of Onan. Perhaps I can feign sleep during those parts.