Today’s word of the day is "Coulrophobia", which means "fear of clowns".  Apparently there’s some discussion in certain circles as to whether coulrophbia really does exist, or if it’s a social phenomenon brought on by a media full of evil clowns (Stephen King’s Pennywise, for example, or John Wayne Gacy).  The clown as a symbol of jollity and hilarity and overall goofiness has been co-opted by the forces of irony; juxtaposing the image of the happy clown with the forces of darkness probably predates any song that Smokey Robinson sang, but it’s epidemic in our society now.  A few years ago I did an informal survey among some of the younger people I knew, and almost all of them said that they didn’t like clowns; clowns "freak me out", they said over and over.  I rest my case.

Which isn’t to say that I’m not interested in doing my part to further this symbolic degeneration.  The word "coulrophobia" is too delicious to pass up.  I’m thinking of writing a short story called "Coulrophobia"; it would involve clowns (natch) and zombies (because I am who I am).  And because I was listening to Steve Eley’s intro to the most recent issue of Escape Pod (where he bemoans the lack of love stories in speculative fiction), I’m thinking that my zombie clown story has to be a love story.

Maybe I can even get 1,000 words written down by the time our writers’ group meets tomorrow night.

In other news, I was amused by the little shout out to the nerd community at the end of Heroes last night, but I think they gave it away too soon by listing his name in the opening credits.  They should have left it out.  The joy would have been even greater.