For better or worse, I was borned 'n raised in the Detroit-area suburbs and got introduced to the Insane Clown Posse at an early age. Due to the fact that I was all of about twelve years old and obsessed with video games such as Doom, it is easy to see where the appeal of two guys dressed as clowns spitting explicit, juvenile lyrics about nutsacks and violence originated from. Hearing tales of how the older kids on my street went to the group's autographing event at the local record store and got soaked in various flavors of Faygo (the budget-brand soda found throughout most of Michigan) sounded like nothing short of promotional genius to me. While I never went so far as to actually procure any of ICP's physical recordings (nor any merchandise, despite how highly coveted it may have been at the time), I became more than familiar with what the group stood for and got a taste of just how far the proverbial envelope could be pushed in the world of musical performance.
Many years have since gone by and, much to my amazement, ICP has not only stood the test of time but also managed to climb in popularity at a nearly linear rate. They have since massively expanded their record label Psychopathic Records and put on the now well-recognized annual event "Gathering of the Juggalos", which currently attracts tens of thousands of attendees each year and books a plethora of well-known music outside of the typical "Juggalo Family" fare (Andrew WK, Gwar, Ice Cube, plus countless handfuls of other eclectic acts of varying reputability). No longer is it just dirt-stachioed adolescents from the Detroit burbs finding redemption in ICP and its supporting acts, but dirt-stachioed adolescents from across the continental United States can now be found earnestly partaking in "getting down with The Clown".
It is nearly impossible to argue that Juggalo-oriented concerts and events such as "The Gathering" are anything but a haven for gross indecency, music, and narcotic indulgence amongst a large group of younger social outcasts. Sound familiar? Take off the makeup and turn the clock back forty years. The end result you're left with is pretty much Woodstock. Granted, any Deadhead is going to swear up and down that the spirit of his/her time was a majestic anomaly that could never possibly be recreated, but try telling that to the amassed thousands getting fried on ecstasy during a four day wicked carnival of souls.
To make this a column simply bashing both subcultures would be a fruitless and redundant exercise. The media has already milked the hippie cliches dry and it seems that everywhere I turn on the internet someone has something disparaging to say about anything associated with Psychopathic Records. With this being said, if you were to attempt to point out a correlation between the groups to your average "with it" dude, then you should immediately prepare to yourself get scoughed on (scoughing is the act of bulging one's eyes out, scoffing, and coughing simultaneously).
"But duuude, Woodstock was, like, this amazing cultural feat! Like... fuckin... Hendrix 'n shit!"
Wrong! Hippies were a celebration of true counter-culture and the movement was then-revered as a filthy cesspool. Nowadays, it is entirely safe and downright acceptable to listen to folksy rock, grow your stupid hair out, and attend large music festivals (take a look at last year's Lollapalooza crowd and you'll see what I mean). It seems as if the only remaining reactionary middle finger to western society (and, more importantly, one's parents) is to start caking on the clown paint, getting a hatchet tattoo, and guzzling budget soda with fat chicks.
Free love? Yeah, the wicked ones have that covered, too. If you are currently in a secure location far away from judgmental family members and/or churchgoers then I must implore you to pop the phrase "Gathering of the Juggalos photos" into your favorite search engine and prepare for the worst (or best, depending on how you look at it). Regardless of the source or year the photos originated from, you are guaranteed to view a copious amount of Juggalettes handling crudely-drawn signs with "$1 to see some tittayz", an inconceivable number of homely, naked bodies, and countless Juggalos with signs saying "show me some 'lette tittayz". While the sexual trails initially blazed by the unwashed forefathers of the '60s have since become overgrown, the Juggalo community has recently taken the gracious liberty to lay napalm to said paths.
Really, the striking similarity between today's Juggalos and the hippies of yesteryear is irrefutable. You can feverishly whimper all you want about "NO! How dare you compare the flower power movement to a bunch of white trash decked out in HatchetGear™!?" but, as Jean-Baptiste Alphonse Karr once wrote "the more things change, the more they stay the same".