No, read that a little slower. I don’t want it ruff, I want a ruff. Okay, maybe I want it, too, but if that were the main theme of this article, I would have used the correct spelling of the word. Moving on.

I remember going to the circus once in my life and not being particularly enchanted by it. The modern acts didn’t thrill me at age 6, and I certainly wouldn’t pay a couple hundred dollars now to watch unhappy, mistreated animals plod around with their heads down, or to laugh at completely generic, mindless slapstick comedy routines (that’s what George Bush and Britney Spears are for). There’s something I’ve always loved, however, about antique circus art, be it from the harlequin-oriented Victorian era or the tattooed 20’s. Where are today’s knife throwers, horseback dancers and puddle divers?

I suppose most of them probably died practicing their craft, and not many have attempted to recreate the feats more recently. I know I wouldn’t. Read More »

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