Many philosophers have pondered the depths of the human psyche; wading through sewage infested thoughts and amoral impulses only to find that way down, in the deepest, blackest, coldest bottom of bottoms, a clown.
A very funny clown that just cracks them up with a series of delightful displays utilizing everything from a squirting flower to a whoopee cushion. And just when we are all happy and carefree the clown hops on his funny bicycle and rides off toward the unsuspecting sunset only to be leveled by a greyhound bus steered by a texting Bill O’Reilly. So the philosophers, having figured it all out, trudge back up the stairs in silence to break the confines of the basement and realize the light of day. A light so piercing and illuminating that they, for the first time, see the world as it is, just like in Plato’s Allegory of the Cave. They see you, they see me, they see John Stewart and Eric Stoltz and the hot dog vendor and a hooker with a terrible fashion sense and then, off in the distance, they see a clown, on a bike, oozing toward them, ever so slowly, illuminated more and more they shield their eyes to find…Bill O’Reilly in the clown suit having a grand old time. He squirts all with his flower and all revel in the levity as he pops a wheelie on his bike. 
Till Woody Allen steps in…
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