SEND IN THE CLOWNS.

The circus has come to town!

That, in itself, is not a noteworthy event. Many circuses pass through Spain during bullfighting’s off-season; taking advantage of dormant bullrings as a convenient venue. However, a new circus (pictured above) reared its head this year:

“PYONGYANG REVOLUTION 2005 – THE NORTH KOREAN NATIONAL CIRCUS!”

This astounded me. Here is a nation that—having suffered severe famines over the past several years—can’t even feed its own population. Yet it sponsors a circus troupe that is touring Spain and, presumably, the rest of Europe.

Sadly, I was not able to attend this curious extravaganza—a missed opportunity that will undoubtedly haunt me until my next glass of wine. I did, however, try to imagine what might take place during a REVOLUTION 2005 performance.

Surely, REVOLUTION 2005 would have few (or no) animal acts. Any animals roaming around North Korea would have been eaten by a desperate population years ago.

Nor would it feature any short-stature clowns sporting curly wigs and Elton John-esque glasses. Boy-oh-boy!—that would be a very sad group of clowns once they see the “welcoming party” awaiting them upon their return to Pyongyang airport.

Perhaps REVOLUTION 2005 has a trapeze act. The acrobats would be wearing missile-shaped helmets and shouting, “Hey, Japan! Check us out! Check us out!” as they soar through the air with the greatest of ease.

Then there’s the “DESAFÍO A LA GRAVEDAD!” teaser that’s so boldly touted on the REVOLUTION 2005 sign. This translates to “A challenge to gravity!” Now, this sounds like an interesting act, but I have doubts. If North Korea had, in fact, developed some kind of anti-gravity technology, then the majority of its population would’ve surely floated over to Seoul or Tokyo by now.

No…I suspect that REVOLUTION 2005 is, most likely, a cross between a military parade and a Broadway musical. In my mind’s eye, the show would progress as follows:

A twenty-inch tall, miniature, Soviet-era tank rolls onto center stage. The top door opens, and out pops seven giggling clowns dressed in purple Mao jackets and enormous orange shoes. They bounce around the stage, doing somersaults and squirting mustard gas from their plastic lapel flowers.

The stage-lights dim, a brass band strikes up the I’m a Little Teapot song and out walks a performer dressed as North Korean dictator, Kim Jong Il (aka, “The Dear Leader”). He clears his throat and sings:

I’m a little despot
Short and stout
Here is my afro
And toe plumped with gout.

When I need
Negotiating clout
I whip
Some nuclear warheads out.

Then—enter, stage left—come the “Glorious Revolution Dancers.” They twirl about the stage amidst colored lights and swirling confetti. The band strikes up the Choo-choo Charlie/Good n’ Plenty Candy song, and they sing…

Dear Leader started feeling kinda queer
Didn’t like those aeroplanes
They caused him fear.

Scratched his bristly head
Then let out a cry
And said, “I think I’ll take a train trip while my people die.”

Jong Il says,
“Pass that flask of cognac!”

Jong Il says,
“And a teenage virgin, too!”

Jong Il says,
“I’d look just like Pierce Brosnan
If I bought some contact lenses and some platform shoes!”

And finally—for the show’s big finale—the entire audience is herded at gunpoint into a sea-freight container and shipped to Pyongyang port for 20-25 years of signing affidavits and giving shortwave radio interviews.

The smarts ones bring along their popcorn and Milk-Duds®.