Why I hate clowns (and maybe you should, too)
Coulrophobia – the irrational fear of clowns.
It’s a documented phobia. Some people suffer from an intense fear of clowns. An irrational fear.
While I dislike clowns immensely and, truth be told, I would be more than a little freaked out if I had to be in close physical proximity to one, my fear is not irrational. I don’t remember any point in my life when I made a shift from liking clowns to disliking them. I’ve never liked them, and I’m not alone. According to an article in the Digital Journal,
Researchers at the University of Sheffield found that clowns are universally disliked by children when they began examining how to improve the decor of a local children’s hospital.
The study was reported in the Nursing Standard magazine and displayed a poll of 250 children between the ages of four and sixteen.
All 250 children were patients of the hospital’s children’s ward. The poll concluded that all 250 patients disliked clowns, even the older children.
“As adults we make assumptions about what works for children,” said Penny Curtis, a senior lecturer in research at the university.
…Most analysts and psychologists believe that children are scared of clowns because of their exaggerated face paintings.
It’s not the giant feet or the red hair or the ridiculous outfits or the propensity to emerge from tiny little cars.
It’s the painted face of the clown that disturbs me.
It’s the mask which proclaims one emotion which may or may not hide something different underneath.
In the above image in particular, notice how the exaggerated painted-on smile is at odds with the expression on the rest of his face. From a distance, he would look happy. But one only has to look at his eyes to know there’s no smile there.
I think most of us hide behind metaphorical masks to some extent. When asked “How are you?”, we say we’re fine. Even if we’re not. And I’m not saying that kind of dishonesty is okay. But that’s different. That kind of dishonesty has more to do with expediency of conversation and fear of the over-share.
But clowns? Specifically white-faced clowns or grotesque white faced clowns? (that name should tell you something)
The makeup is an intentional act of deception. What are they hiding behind the painted on expression? It is this intentional act that unnerves me. Maybe I’m over thinking this.
But I’m in good company:
(Special thanks to AuthorCulture, which is where I first saw this video.)
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Yeah, the book “It” pretty much did it for me.
Yeah, Stephen King’s book pretty much guaranteed a life-long fear of clowns. And sewer drains.
For some reason, I’m seeing the stereotype (I’m acknowledging that right away, before I’m offensive) of southern belles…. just placed in church. But that’s unfair. You’re entirely right, we all do this out of fear of being a downer, annoying, that person who you should really avoid…
boo.
You know what would make this blog post better? More clown pictures. I know you’ve got ‘em.
I have no idea about the “It” book, but shouldn’t a person be born with a great dislike of sewer drains?
A bunch of
stinking
boneless browns
sloshing
in urine
underground,
beneath town.
Yikes.
And just a tidbit of advice here: if you want to practice your sincere, honest response to “How are you today?” just do it with telemarketers. They appreciate it. I’m sure they do. That’s how I taught my toddler son to engage adults in conversation. “Here sweetie, tell this nice man what you think about clowns.”
Blessings.
thank you thank you thank you! Next time a telemarketer asks me how I am—”well, I have this spot on my ankle that looks like gangrene, I may have to have my foot amputated. And I puked up my breakfast….” Think he (or she) will hang up on me? Simply Darlene cracks me up as much as you do Kathy.
I love it! I usually unnerve them because they pronounce my last name wrong when they ask for me so I say “There is no one here by that name, I’m Mrs. Moschmossgepup, may I help you?” (Just in case I’m talking to someone NOT a telemarketer. I don’t want to hang up and find out that my block is being evacuated due to a gas leak or something but I blew up because I ignored the warning call…) I’m sure the telemarketer will just ADORE it when she or he asks how I am, and I tell about my female troubles! You and Darlene are geniuses! (Genii?)
When we first moved to the USA, we lived with my wife’s Aunt and Uncle for a while. Because I had the English accent, we always joked that I was the butler.
One day someone called while everyone out and I tried to take a message but they were being very cagey about who they were and what their reason for calling was.. and then they asked who I was.
Their reluctance to say where they were from made me suspect they were telemarketers trying to trick me so there was no way I was giving them my name and so I said, “I’m the butler!”
Turns out it was the IRS calling about an audit they were going to do… she had a few questions for Debbie’s aunt about the employment status of the ‘butler’.
Sorry. I grew up watching Bozo circus. Though I wasn’t too fond of Bozo, personally. He’d always ask before the cartoon “WHO’S YOUR FAVORITE CLOWN!” , pause, then say “HEY! THAT’S ME!” The problem is, I shouted myself hoarse screaming “COOKIE! COOKIE! COOKIE!!!!!!!!” (That was the name of his sidekick. I wasn’t screaming for a cookie. That wouldn’t have gotten me anywhere with Momma, though you wouldn’t know it from looking at me.)
What were we talking about? Oh yeah… I rather like clowns. Cookie was my favorite.
http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-H03VL7CY4OQ/TqHwvj07wMI/AAAAAAAAAFs/kfYbc1Q3Uo0/s1600/cookie.jpg
I actually know a messianic Jew who is a clown.
Somehow he manages to be one of the not scary kind… but the clown from ‘It’ has ruined clowns for me forever.
Come to think of it, Ice Cream trucks are not much better….