almost nothing

The inane clown posse is coming to town. They'd like your money, but they'll settle for your attention. It's all they've ever wanted, anyway. For the low low price of second-hand embarrassment and a few hours in their company, you can earn a hand-stamped Certificate of Participation. But be forewarned that this participation, billed as the selling point of the experience, is actually meaningless. Your presence is merely another ridiculous stage on which they take themselves much too seriously. The inane clown posse always has been - and forever will be - enamored of only itself.

Blame their mothers, their fathers, their teachers, their childhood keepers. Blame whoever looked the other way, disinterested, at their desperate cries of "Watch this!' and "Watch me!"

The inane clown posse just wants your love. Please, won't you give it to them? Be kind. Tickets are cheap. Let them feel almost famous, for almost nothing.