(Disclaimer: I’m currently in a noisy environment in which people insist on standing uncomfortably close to me, so my mind is a bit jarred. This may result in scrambled thoughts, including misperceptions and errors of phrasing. I can work quickly under this kind of pressure, but the end quality may be up for debate. Though this blog is not meant to be gospel–merely jottings of fleeting musings.)
My, my. What a year this has been so far. Leaving aside for now the overall state of the United States and Earth more broadly – I’d say that they’ve largely caught up to where I was psychologically in the aughts, at least on the surface – I’ve had some intriguing and baffling adventures confined largely to the obscurity of the personal, and I daresay I’ve even experienced a revelation or two.
A friend who’s been staying at the house for a few months by this point has been interested lately in the role of the jester, the fool, the clown–how they impact both human society and the universe at large. I’m reminded of a story project I set aside sometime in high school, which is enough back-burners away to be considered on indefinite hiatus but also not quite forgotten. Like the film adaptations of Dune, The Hobbit, and The Dark Tower, it will probably move forward at some point, and I suppose I’ll just have to wait and see where the quality levels are by then.
Clowns, according to this friend, flip things–one might be found on a sweltering summer day in Florida bent over in a parka and shivering, or mourning tearfully at a merry event. I suppose the clown’s individual behavior needn’t be the only thing flipped. A clown can flip joy into pain and vice versa, according to them: for what they fight is less important than rebelliousness itself.
I then proposed a “clown wheel”: one two-headed Cat-Dog clown, joined anywhere from the feet to the waist, with a head at each of two polar ends. This harlequin is either strapped to or is part of a large wooden wheel, not unlike those used on game shows. When the wheel is spun, each clown likely spends about an equal time on top and at the bottom. Perhaps one clown wears one half of the Greek sock-and-buskin duality. A comic age, clowned by Tragedy, followed by a tragic age, clowned by Comedy, and so on. These eras are obviously not entirely binary, any more than are the crests and troughs of liquid waves: we may feel the waxing and the waning of each respective dominant mode, and we can sometimes prepare for the advent of the next. To quote Mandalorian warriors, “This is the way.”
When I typed “clown wheel” into Google Images, I was somewhat unsurprised to find some tarot-related results.
Life has gotten surreal internally for both of us. We’re not entirely convinced that this unease didn’t cause the broader 2020 ills rather than be caused by it, or maybe a compounding feedback loop of both. But in any case, given that the general universe has felt so… intense to us of late, we feel that Halloween could get really weird. Possibly a clown purge–at least a psychological one, if not a violent one. I’d prefer the latter but cannot guarantee any particular outcome, as I am merely an individual with limited scope and influence.
Or it could be almost completely unremarkable, in which case the buildup itself will have clowned us. That might be the biggest caper yet.