The latest invasion

An issue ignored

I was pleased to see moderator Lester Holt get to the heart of serious national issues during last week's televised presidential debate. There apparently are few things more pressing on the national psyche today than the president's birth certificate and calling a former beauty queen rude names.

But there is one threat Holt flat-out ignored, possibly at his peril and that of a growing numbers of Americans.

The more knowledgeable doubtlessly realize I'm referring to terror spreading since August from random clown sightings in at least 10 states, including our own.

Scoff if you must, but these must be anxious times in the hinterland for those who fear undocumented strangers with faces slathered in white and crimson who don baggy silk costumes with impossibly bright colors and tease orange wigs into poofy patches.

This scourge Holt misguidedly chose to ignore appears to be spreading faster than even the nation's Centers for Clown Control ever imagined. News accounts say two or three clowns reportedly were seen between Pine Bluff and White Hall.

Similar reports also have surfaced with the North Little Rock police, and four clowns were reportedly spotted driving through Wynne in a car the other day (the other nine must have fallen out). Sheriff J.R. Smith says he'll tolerate nothing of the sort going on there in peace-lovin' Cross County. He'll arrest any overly scary clowns who show themselves in public with intent to terrify.

All this clown mania is enough to make even fearless me don a pair of very long, floppy red shoes and run for the hills. Well, maybe to the mall instead, since it seems most reported clown sightings in Arkansas and other states have been near wooded areas.

There've been no specific descriptions published except for humanoids, some who look creepy but mostly ridiculous. Some supposedly have tried to lure innocent children into the woods.

I'll always believe Holt was negligent in not directing his debate toward the truly national nature of the clown invasion since Arkansas now joins Virginia, South Carolina, Alabama, Pennsylvania, Florida and others with such sightings. Iran, Portugal and Guam may be next.

Acting creepy in funny clothes with white face and caked makeup is no laughing matter, police say. Well, although they concede there's nothing really illegal about the weirdness of wearing a clown costume (or trick-or-treating for that matter.)

But there is that creepiness factor, like the clown arrested last week in Middlesboro, Ky., after reportedly "lurking" near an apartment complex. Wait. Is lurking a crime? How about the clown reported at White Hall possibly carrying a machete near the Tractor Supply store? I guess that's not necessarily illegal either, but why a big knife rather than, say, a chainsaw?

Spooky clowns also have been turning up on the edges of woods around Greenville, S.C., and Augusta County, Va. Why, I saw an odd clown myself last week, sitting silent on a bench, staring straight ahead without blinking and seemingly frozen in front of a popular fast-food restaurant.

Starting to see why I'm not overreacting in my concerns? Who knows where they come from? The wide-ranging infiltration of these multicolored slapstick artists might even be the result of an unpublicized circus-train accident or two, where dozens escaped.

Regardless, you realize the kind of problems even a single lurking clown can present if you read Stephen King's 1986 novel It. King's sinister clown lurked in the city sewers rather than woods.

The sighting last week in White Hall certainly offered both timely and serious fodder for a national presidential TV debate that made time to publicize birth certificates and personal smears as national concerns. I consider the clown invasion as relevant as those topics. We the people should know any well-intentioned clown needs a machete rather than, say, a honky horn and a fistful of balloons.

Thus far, the only Arkansan I know of to wind up in hot water over the national clown invasion is a White Hall elementary school resource officer.

In what I can only interpret as an admirable solo undercover attempt to gain the trust of wayward clowns, Dustin Summers was with friends when he decided to have his picture taken in a clown costume that wound up posted on the Internet. Uh-oh.

Because of White Hall's recent clown reports, Summers' fun didn't set well with Investigator Mickey Buffkin, who afterwards called Summers an outstanding officer who made an inappropriate choice. Summers had nothing to do with the area's clown sightings. Nonetheless, as of last week, he was reportedly facing an internal investigation.

No one asked, but might I suggest Summers don his outfit and have a couple of honest-to-goodness clowns shoot him out of a cannon when the next circus comes to Pine Bluff?

------------v------------

Mike Masterson's column appears regularly in the Arkansas Democrat-Gazette. Email him at mmasterson@arkansasonline.com.

Editorial on 10/02/2016

Upcoming Events