By Jordan Stier
It is true. Although I do not remember it well, my mother can tell the story of when she took me to the circus at a young age. I cried, and cried, and cried some more, and accused her of torturing me.. To be fair, I accused her of trying to kill me when she put me on a bicycle and it wavered from leaning on the left training wheel to leaning on the right… I was that kid.
Since my youth, my opinions of circuses have not really improved. In fact, they have probably deteriorated, through the combination of having read Dalene Matthee’s Kringe in die Bos and Steven King’s It, which have left elephants with a homely spot in my heart and clowns with an unwelcome regularity in my nightmares.
Stier of the Nation 