I just downloaded the music video for Foo Fighters "The One" and it reminded me of a childhood incident.
It features a mime.
I hate mimes. Somehow the fact that the one in the video is on roller skates makes it worse.
A lot of people claim to be afraid of clowns or mimes or whatnot. Usually the rationales are pretty feeble, clowns just seem to be something cool to be scared of. Personally I find goth's more worrying than the average clown and if there was any justice in the world people would fear underpaid software testers most of all but that's another matter and I doubt that turning up to work in white facepaint will do me any favours.
Pennywise the clown I suppose is another good reason to be scared of clowns, personally that movie left me with a crippling fear of plug holes for many years and the book made me scared of Stephen King, what with the whole pre teen group sex thing which... now that I mention it, I really hope was in IT and not something else, I did read an awful amount of shite as a kid.
Back in the eighties when I was but a slip of a lad my family used to go on camping holidays. Of course it being the eighties we were lucky to get holidays at all. Lucky is relative of course, most campsites in ireland seem to be suitable for nothing else, certainly not for houses or livestock because of the particularly shitty drainage properties of the land itself. To this day nothing says "Irish Summertime" to me quite like standing in a foot and a half of water.
One year we went to limerick for the holidays. Limerick, for the benefit of the foreigners is known as "Stab City", a moniker it works hard to deserve. At that tender age of course I was convinced that every resident of the city carried something between a flicknife and a katana and my life was in constant danger. In the city itself one weekend there was an arts festival of some sort going on and of course my parents too leave of their senses and went into the city itself, something which I felt was like putting your arm in a wood chipper.
In the park where the festival is going on my folks decided that we could all wander off and do our own thing. This was plainly insanity and I tried to persuade my parents of this but they seemingly lacked the common sense to see the immediate and potentially fatal danger we were all in at every moment.
They wandered off after arranging to meet me in an hour. I figured that my best chance of survival stood in making myself look like a badass. Sadly, I was wearing sandals. Only one person has ever managed the badass thing in sandals and he was the son of God and also, not wearing socks underneath them.
So, I wandered a little, affecting an air of danger, something that, on reflection, looked a little bit like an angry kitten.
Not long after I was walking around some small building or amusement part slide thing or something along those lines when I bumped into the mime. He spotted me, spotted my footwear and the chase was on.
A complex game of cat and mouse, or to be more precise, terrified youngster and evil silent faceless bastard, ensued around the park, much to the amusement of other patrons, only ending twenty five minutes later when I hid in an exhibit.
And that folks is why I hate mimes, I mean genuinely hate them.
For that matter, there's a busker in templebar who does some sort of adlib "comedy" thing of mocking passers by and strumming a chord every now and again. I was walking past there one day in a leather trenchcoat and he yelled "Heil Hitler" much to the titters of the gathered morons. "Laugh it up" I said "But I'm the one with a real job motherfucker"