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Photo by Bucky Turco for ANIMALNewYork.
Welcome to the armpit of America, better known as the Gathering of the Juggalos. Since 2000, it’s been a misogynist/homophobic paradise, a narcotics flea market, and a reason to live for the roughly 20,000 attendees and enthusiasts of Insane Clown Posse. Check out Emma Carmichael’s account of her experience as an undercover Juggalette at the Cave-In-Rock, Ill., shitshow on Deadspin. Aside from being really depressing, the read will make you want to shower. After the jump, some choice excerpts.
He has a can of beer in each hand, a cigarette on his lip, and some news: “We’ve got three Juggalettes giving free hand jobs in a tent up here!”
The first people we see are a couple of twenty-somethings sitting in front of their tent, watching the early-afternoon foot traffic pass by. The guy is holding a sign that says “$ 3.50 You Can Play with My DICK (NO HOMO),” and she is smoking a Marlboro.
I peek into the women’s showers and am warned by a volunteer with a container of Clorox to stay away from the stall at the trailer’s far left. “Someone decided to take a real big dump in there,” she explains.
ICP’s version of hip hop—politically anti-racist, but very white and non-urban—is the escape plan for the kids who don’t ever leave.
The Juggalos do not care if the boobs are lopsided or saggy or small or fake; they only care that they are there.
On one side, he offers “Got Neden?” stickers for sale; on the other, he’s written, “Its my birthday show me your tits.” In the corner, somebody has penned, “Baby mama Approved.”
If you believe what you hear on the Drug Bridge, then every product available is The Best Product In The Entire Damn Country And I Can Personally Vouch For That, Ninja.
For photos of the event that will make you feel better about yourself, check out Jim Kiernan’s Flickr set, featuring Charlie Sheen, a wasabi-snorting contest, lots of painted boobs, and a dude with 420 shaved into his back hair. Woop woop.
