Send in the (Creepy) Clowns

it-sewer

(google, “It”)

Isn’t it weird?
how many are there
creepy clowns in South Carolina
causing a scare
(Don’t) send in the clowns . . .

Just when you thought the world couldn’t be more bizarre, what with  Donald Trump and his “Great Wall” of Mexico, and softening and hardening and softening (rinse and repeat) his stance on illegal immigration and his promise to deport “millions” of illegals within five minutes of being voted into office . . . here comes something new.

Creepy woodland clowns!

Yes, they appear to have taken up residence in Greenville County, South Carolina and are terrorizing children and adults.

This from The New York Times article “Creepy Clown Sightings in South Carolina Cause a Frenzy”:

A woman walking home late one night said she had seen a “large-figured” clown waving at her from under a streetlight, the police said. (She waved back.) And another woman said her son had heard clanging chains and a banging noise at his front door. In these cases, people who reported clown sightings refused to give their names to the police.

And I thought New York was weird!

Children have said that the clowns were offering them money to follow them into the woods; they apparently live in a house near a pond. The clowns seem to be targeting residents of a particular apartment complex. The police are receiving calls that the clowns have also been spotted at another apartment complex. What do they want?

People are armed and ready to defend themselves and their children against these ghoulish jesters.

As the Times article mentions, this may be a prank or publicity stunt of some kind, but that doesn’t seem to lessen the fears of the community.:

The pranksters, viral marketers and criminals may be taking advantage of a cultural fear of clowns, with examples including Mr. King’s “It,” and John Wayne Gacy, a serial killer who dressed as a clown. But Steven Schlozman, a child psychiatrist who teaches a course on the psychology of horror films at Harvard University, suggests that something more primal could be at work.

This brings to mind Ray Bradbury’s “The Monsters Are Due on Maple Street,” which was also made into a Twilight Zone episode. In this story, strange things start happening in a sleepy suburban town in Main Street, USA. The appliances stop working, lights go out and people start to panic. A resident says it’s like a science fiction story he read where an alien space ship came to earth and created a disturbance. Ultimately, neighbors who were friends begin to distrust one another and wonder if Joe or Jill next door might actually be the “alien.” I won’t ruin the ending for you, but it’s well worth the read or view.

It’s the ultimate “fear of the other” story, like the fear of the evil woodland clown. Perhaps the clowns are malicious or harmful, or perhaps they are simply preying on our basest fears and sitting back to watch a once benevolent community self-destruct.

The Drunken Juggler

juggler

(google)

Late night bus rides are never dull. After 10:01 p.m., the buses arrive at different gates, in more distant, less-trafficked chambers of Port Authority Bus Terminal (“PABT”). More tourists, more drunk people, a generic strain of weirdos and lost souls (aren’t we all?).

I arrived at PABT at 10:40 p.m. last night after seeing an opera with my friend. The next bus was scheduled for 11:05 p.m. A jocular becspectacled woman with a thick mane of dirty blonde hair bounced toward the front of the gate. Some of us were leaning against the wall and a few others, lined up.

“Where do we line up?” she said, smiling widely. “Do we stand ‘in line’ or ‘on line’? Do we have any grammar Nazis here?”

I said, “I think it’s ‘on line.’ ”

“In school it was a really big deal. We stood on line, that’s what we did. Always a line.”

“Yes, we did,” I said.

She fished into her canvas tote bag, pulled out five soft black and white balls and started juggling.

A guy leaning against the wall next to me said, “Wow, I could never do that.”

The lady said, “Oh, we can teach you. Come to Bryant Park any Wednesday between 5 and 7. We’re always there. I find it makes people smile. It’s all about getting people to smile.”

If her smile was any wider, I thought it would tear the sides of her mouth until they bled.

She dropped a ball and returned all five balls to their tote bag.

“Oh, alcohol makes everything better!” she said.

The leaning guy and I smiled at her.

Definitely a New York moment.

It was one of those times where you enjoyed the moment, but felt a bit on edge, like you had to participate in this person’s exuberance no matter how tired you were. Not necessarily a bad thing, but there was a tinge of danger and volatility to her. I thought if we looked at her the wrong way or didn’t smile, she might fly off the handle.

We were a captive audience.

I was happy when the bus arrived and I could burrow into a seat towards the back of the bus and close my eyes. I had had enough excitement for one day.

 

 

 

Biznatch

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I didn’t understand the point of the term “biznatch” for quite some time, but it all made sense after seeing this episode of Better Call Saul featuring the inimitable Tuco Salamanca as portrayed by actor Raymond Cruz. One of the most memorable TV characters ever.

The term “punking” was also etched (perhaps “blasted” would be more appropriate) into my memory by Tuco.

For the times we are disrespected, deceived or betrayed, wouldn’t it be great to channel Tuco for a day or even a few hours and scare the living crap out of the those who diss us to our very core? I can think of someone right now I’d like to “go Tuco” on. I recently discovered a certain person has been misleading and lying to me and my husband for years and has taken us for a quite a ride. I cannot go into any further detail here, but suffice it to say, it has been a rude awakening, albeit a necessary one.

Do you know anyone you’d like to go Tuco on?

 

Trump “Rescued” from Elevator

o-NUCLEAR-EXPLOSION-facebook

(google)

On July 30, The Denver Post reported that Donald Trump and members of his Secret Service were stuck in a stalled elevator between the first and second floors at The Mining Exchange, a luxury hotel and resort, in Colorado Springs. Luckily, the Fire Department came to the rescue. Thank goodness!

Trump was none too happy with the fire marshal for restricting the number of people attending his rally in Colorado. Never the shrinking violet, he let his feelings be known:

“This is why our country doesn’t work,” Trump said as he slammed the Colorado Springs fire marshal during the rally, moments after the department’s firefighters rescued him. The paper reported that Trump said the fire marshal “didn’t know what he was doing and ‘was probably a Democrat.’ “

Yes, that makes perfect sense. Our country doesn’t work because of incompetent fire marshals who rescue people from elevators, and of course, being a Democrat also lessens the probability that he had the requisite skills to perform his duties.

I’m surprised Trump didn’t blame President Obama or Hillary Clinton for the elevator debacle, Perhaps it will go down in history as “Elevatorgate.”

The idea of a would-be president being trapped in an elevator in the so-called “Mining Exchange” brings to mind the “mineshaft gap” in Dr. Strangelove. I think Mr. Trump might enjoy living in a mine shaft since he’s so enamored with the idea of using nuclear weapons. In his own words, “If we have them, we can’t we use them?”

And now, back to Planet Earth.

USA Freedom Kids

Apparently they are a viral sensation, but today is the first day I’m hearing about them. Yes, I mean the USA Freedom Kids! The number they performed at a Trump rally in Pensacola, FL reminds me a bit of Olive’s act in the film Little Miss Sunshine.  The back beat sounds like a techno / diluted version of Blondie’s “Heart of Glass.” Their song entitled “Freedom’s Call” is a re-write of the popular World War I and II tune “Over There.”

The founder / manager of the group is Jeff Popick, father of Alexis, the youngest girl in the group. He is planning to sue the Trump campaign for violating their business agreement. They were promised two performances in Pensacola, but the first performance did not transpire.  When Popick asked for the $2,500 promised for their  one and only performance, a counter offer was proposed to give them a table for pre-selling CDs. No table was set up for them, and they still have not been paid for the performance (January 2016). Boo, Trump!

Trump’s campaign manager also invited the Freedom Kids to perform at a rally in Des Moines which would have brought them huge publicity, but when they arrived, they were told there was a change of plan. They made the trip for nothing and were not compensated for any hotel or travel expenses.

Washington Post article by Philip Bump notes:

. . . Popick’s story mirrors analysis of Trump’s record in working with small business owners, some of whom allege that the Republican nominee failed to live up to financial and other commitments he’d made to them.

So much for Trump’s proclamation to regular folks: “I am your voice.” I beg to differ.

I think I know who has the true heart of glass.