Good Clowns-Bad Clowns

No one had thought of coronavirus back then. I even suspected the pathogen was a cleverly designed advertising campaign for the new film adaptation of Stephen King's "It 2," which was being released at the same time.

Perhaps they had been abandoned somewhere like Kaspar Hauser and were now emerging from their holes? Whatever the trigger, there were daily reports of evil clowns appearing in shopping malls and even hospitals.

The excitement among the "good clowns" was correspondingly great. After all, there were fears that the good reputation clowns had built up over the years in hospitals and retirement homes would be damaged.

The press reacted quickly. In my interviews, I assured journalists that the traditional figure of the clown could endure this without suffering any serious damage. At some point, they disappeared again, just as quickly as they had appeared.

What remained of this horror was the question of why the clown is repeatedly perceived as the antagonist of evil, or even as evil, abusive, or a diffuse figure.

Reason enough to ask ourselves what the Good Clowns and the Bad Clowns are all about?

The image of the good clown these days is strongly influenced by children's performances and by hospital clowns with their dedicated work in hospitals and retirement homes.

Only 15-20 years ago, however, people tended to think of the circus clown duo "White Clown and August."

Here, the red clown August appeared as a clumsy buffoon who always tried to be as wonderful as the white clown. He could also be quite deceitful and even mean at times, and to the delight of the audience, he managed to swindle the noble white clown into a bargain or two. The fact that the white clown always prevailed in the end ensured that good order was not endangered even in the circus.

Everything was in its place, and August's cheeky antics could always be forgiven.

A perfect world in which evil was tolerated as child's play.

The Black Clown shocks as a buffoon; he insults, teases, and even spits at the audience.

Even in ancient times, the clown's ancestors appeared as comically rustic characters with dubious, foul-mouthed behavior.

And the stumbling gait of Harlequin, a well-known figure from the 16th-century Commedia del Arte, with his typical little jumps, is not only funny.

It is primarily an attempt to conceal a clubfoot, a reference to his kinship with the half-human, half-animal Pan and his horse's hoof.

How does the clown deal with this? We recognize: Being a clown takes place on a special level.

Humor functions as a ladder on which the clown can sit safely, look down from above, and observe the interplay between good and evil. Depending on his mood, he playfully hops from one side to the other. This allows the clown to switch worlds without a trace, thus overcoming the collective and conditioned division between good and evil.

Therefore, a division into good and evil is completely un-clownish. Moreover, a division into good and bad clowns completely distracts from his inner aspirations.

Strictly speaking, the fool constantly changes his position—he is an "Gegenteiler".

He immediately questions what everyone is rigidly and firmly holding on to at the moment, only to question the opposite the next moment.

It follows: It is just as fatal to trust a fool as it is to distrust him. And that is not what the fool intends. What the fool wants is for us to trust ourselves, to think for ourselves, to examine and differentiate for ourselves.

If one recapitulates the history of humanity, especially the history of Western cultures, and realizes how much evil has been created in the name of missionary good, then it can be a horrifying experience. At the very least, one might begin to doubt the classification of "good and evil."

Everything, including evil, always happened for a "good reason" and was thus justified.

How should one classify what Nobel Peace Prize winner Obama said: "Sometimes war is necessary"? Therefore, it seems to me that what is crucial is not how things are evaluated and labeled, but what they achieve. Thus, it is no longer the logo that matters, but what one does and what one achieves as a result. Or as Forest Gump says: "Stupid is only one who does stupid things."

Does the old division into "good and evil" perhaps ultimately only prevent us from taking a closer look? From looking deeper into the "rabbit hole" like Alice in Wonderland? And is this presumably ultimately due to fear? Because if you take a closer look at the rabbit hole, you realize that it is very complex. You quickly get lost and fear you won't find the way out...

This is precisely where the clown comes in.

But since truth also has many layers and initially offers only relative certainty, the world remains a mystery.

Well, it's not the clown's job to order the world, but to disrupt it in order to loosen entrenched positions.

In the end, laughter, which sometimes turns into tears, helps us.

The two together warm our hearts and clear not only our lungs but also our heads, and above all: it unites us.