The clown from William Shakespeare's Twelfth Night or What You Will. I was walking to work and mulling over the two very different takes on the character I had seen. The first was a young man that seemed to embody the essence of happiness. In actuallity, he was simply a traveling minstrel. Entertaining as he was, I have to say that I prefer the incarnation I saw a few years ago in London:
The morose clown. He was dressed like Charlie Chaplin, minus the mustache. He would produce odd noises for the amusement of the crowd then roll his eyes at the idiots laughing at him. He was a mirror for the world he saw around him. A world populated by clowns.
I am once again full time in the corporate world. I must find a bowler hat.