Juggalo History Hour: Another Chapter in the unfolding ROX-TV series is here

 

Welcome back to ROX-TV for all of you returning for another chapter in the Juggalo History Hour. As always, we strive to preserve the past with stories, pictures, and anything else at our disposal. In today’s edition, we will be travelling back in time to revisit the 1990’s and some interesting points in the Juggalo history. The stories and things I talk about here are from my own first hand accounts, coming up in Michigan during the early years of the scene.

 

As always, we are here to have fun and chop it up for old times sake. I must warn the readers ahead of time that views and memories that I share are only a small piece of the over all scene. I just happened to be growing up in the 810 when the Dark Carnival really started to get moving, spreading their message to masses. In the early days, the movement was still in what I would consider its infancy, but it was growing everyday and getting stronger.

 

I’ve said this before, but because there is so much that has gone down over the last thirty years with the Insane Clown Posse, sometimes its a challenge to keep all of the information in a nice neat little package. For me the memories sometimes collide, spill into each other, or just need a little dusting off from sitting in my nugget for so long. I’m not a mega-tron atom splitting expert, by no means. I’m just an old school Juggalo who likes remembering the good old days, as well as things going on today. It’s an all encompassing mission and since there is no real right or wrong way to approach this, I will just let the shit spill out, like Faygo on a roller coaster. So without further to do, lets dip back into the lowrider time machine and head out to the 1990’s…..

 

 

1995

Well, I guess we landed in 1995, so lets see what was going down in the world of Juggalos, at least for me in that magical time of teenage disillusionment. I was like any other Juggalo I suppose at fifteen. I hated school, at least most of the parts before and after lunch. Like I said in the last article, being a Juggalo wasn’t always easy back then. Most of the time we were outnumbered at school and alone much of the time. Lunch was that one place during the day that my friends and I could sit and kick it. Since I was a bit younger than most of the guys that I ran with, I didn’t see them that much during the day, so the lunch time was when we had to get it in.

 

I hung out with a group of Juggalos, although we still weren’t using that term as much as it gets kicked around today. Back then we had a small crew which included my homies Chad “The Jester”, Justin “Snake eyes”, Ko-Kane Wayne, Tim (who was always just Tim, no nickname every seemed to replace that), Rob, Higgy, Andy (Chelmsford St), B-Semple, a few others. We all lived in the same neighborhood except for Chad (Maple Ave) and Wayne (Monticello near Hyde).

 

We were all into the clowns, but Wayne, Chad, and Justin were deep into the action. They wore ICP shirts to school everyday, had the Hatchet Man and other Insane Clown Posse stickers all over the car (but in a dope way, not a thousand funky ass bumper sticker kind of way. It looked uniform and correct). Back in those days, the car decals had really started to show up a lot and you could buy a shit load of different variations at Wyatt Earp Records. The early Juggalos may not have had the numbers but we made up for it with passion for the cause. Some of my friends lived, breathed, and slept in the culture. Chad had his room done up as a total shrine to the Wicked Clownz (in a dope way though, not some cheesy bullshit) and slept among his relics, posters, and ICP related gear. When he got up for school, that cat was rolling in a car, sporting the fresh decals I mentioned, when he got to school he rocked ICP shirts (everyday man). When the shows came, off the guys went, often time bringing back stories of the shows I wasn’t old enough to get into, or able to sneak out of the crib to attend.

 

Like I said before, school could be a bitch, because sometimes you were going it alone. I remember the first ICP shirt I was able to get a hold of and it was a “RINGMASTER” shirt with the gold speckle on it. It was fucking twenty four sizes too big for me, but I didn’t care. I wanted to represent the scene and I wore that bed sheet shirt as much as possible.

 

My parents didn’t really dig the dark carnival or understand the imagery. I think for the most part, they just wanted what was best for me and although they didn’t know what Juggalo shit was about, from the outside looking in, it probably gave them concern. Suddenly your kid goes from being a fan of something, to a die hard participant. The world of ICP slowly overtook a lot of the aspects of my life that had previously been dedicated to other shit. I was happy for the switch out because I had finally found a niche that I could call home. I spoke in language that my friends understood and they responded with the same content. We dug the clothes, the tapes, the flyers, the posters, the shows, the Faygo*, and other fans we ran into.

 

Where we had once been rejected, or ignored, or fucked with, or 2nd rate citizens, we now had a thing that didn’t factor in or care about all that other bullshit. We had our own thing. Did people hate on us and fuck with us about it? Well of course, what else were the bored, closed minded, assholes going to do? They were just mad that we had something going on and they either wanted to partake and couldn’t (for who knows what reason), were jealous, envious, or just didn’t want anyone else to enjoy something they didn’t understand.

 

There is a weird line between love and hate. I’ve come to know in my own life that people will “hate you” for a few different reasons, but its only because they want what you have and can’t have it, want to do what your doing and don’t have the courage or balls to try, or they are just really upset that “what they are into” isn’t that cool. I mean think about it, if you really don’t care for something, for the most part it just doesn’t exist right? I don’t get pissed off at asparagus or beets….I don’t eat them or care for them, so I don’t think about them. They don’t exist and that’s how most people deal with things they don’t care about.

 

People that are hating on you for wearing certain clothes, listening to certain kinds of music, or just opposing you in general are tap dancing on a thin line that is closer to love than anything else. When you take space up in someone’s head and they can’t do anything but think about you non-stop, coming up with new or more fantastic ways to mess with you….what’s really going on is that they are obsessed. If all they can do is think about what your doing, trashing your scene to anyone that will listen, you have to ask yourself “What the fuck do you care what I’m doing?

 

Treat me like candy corn and forget me….unless you can’t. Most people that opposed the Juggalo scene back then were pretty wack, and it wasn’t necessarily the hate they were dishing out, it was their lack of standing for anything. I don’t get excited when people bitch and complain about things they don’t like. If you want to win me over, then tell me what your for. Who knows? You might win me over, I doubt it because I already like what I like, but I’m at least open to discussion. People that talk shit are either scared of you, jealous, or upset over their lack of adequacy. So remember Juggalos, when you get push back….let it roll off your back. The people sending the bad vibes have problems either with the things they have or don’t and no matter what, your existence is driving them crazy. I say forget them, don’t give them any energy, and eventually they will shrivel up and blow away.

1995 was a busy year for the ICP and material coming out all the time. When new material wasn’t getting dropped, then shows were going down, when that wasn’t happening, meet and greets were the next best thing. These were those exciting events where you could actually meet your heroes in the flesh. There was no internet back then, so all you had was the music, until shows happened. For a lot of the younger Juggalos at the time, getting to Detroit was tricky. So off to the record stores it was, the next best thing.

Before we leave 1995 I do have to mention a few things. First off, The Riddle Box had dropped. So there was that. I was 15 at the time, and I must say even to this day, that The Riddle Box is one of my favorite albums by the Clowns. I would liken it to the ESHAM release of Closed Casket, in that both were amazing representations by the artists, showcasing their work. I dig every song on Closed Casket and the same goes for the Riddle Box.

And you have to remember, I didn’t have a license at the time, no car, no job, no super model girlfriend, it was just me and the music, with my friends on the side. I had so much time on my hands back then, because there wasn’t really much going on and life was a bit slower. No internet, no cell phones, no social media….a person was literally stuck in the “now” time twenty four hours a day. Looking back, I actually miss that shit and I never thought I would say that. I miss that pace of life. Shit was slower, but everything was fucking real. Things are fine now, but I was exposed to different way of life all those years ago, so that’s where I’m coming from.

I’m sure in twenty years, a Juggalo will be writing an article for some publication, doing exactly the same thing I am, and he or she or whatever is going down in twenty years, will be like “back in 2021, things were so boring and slow….blah blah blah”. That’s time for yeah, its weird and can do odd things, but the most important thing is to enjoy the ride.

Other notable things from 1995 was the release of the Fat Sweaty Betty single which was only produced on cassette tape and given out on April 7th and 8th in 1995 at the Mental Warp shows (Ritz in Roseville Michigan).

 

As you can clearly see, I’m lucky enough to have in my possession the original Mental Warp show flyer, which I would consider a poster more than a flyer at this point but that’s just me. I also have the flyer for the add on show, when the April 7th show sold out. But most importantly is the single “Fat Sweaty Betty” from the show. Alone these are all wonderful pieces of Juggalo history, but when they combine….it’s like a Voltron type thing.

 

For me, I could feel the momentum of the Juggalo scene building momentum. It wasn’t like an overnight victory…but a long slow burn, like a huge blunt. It was taking time to get where it needed to be and I could tell that at some point or at least I hoped, that the dark carnival would spread like wild fire. Looking back from a 2021 view, I’m proud to say that’s exactly what happened. We didn’t know it at the time, but we were part of something special. From the humble Dog Beat days, this thing that I called my own, was getting better with age….like a fine wine. Not that I’ve ever drank wine, I was a beer hound….but that expression seems to fit rather nicely there.

1996

Ok, I suppose we could get stuck in 1995 for a minute, so instead of hitting every single milla-second, like I said before, I’m just going to be-bop around, hitting on points that I remember well. The year nineteen ninety six was a good year because that was the year that I came face to face with the Wicked Clownz for the first time. I will never forget that day and I even saved the flyer, from the in-store meet and greet at Wyatt Earp Records. The ICP were coming to Flint to support the Juggalos in the area, sign autographs, and allow the Juggalos to get up close and personal with their gods.

 

I had just turned sixteen on May 3rd on that year and had my license for a whopping fourteen days. What did I want to do? Go see the clowns of course. Word had passed down through the Juggalo world and also through the fan club, that the ICP would be in Flint on May 17th, 1996. This was my chance to go see Violent J and Shaggy 2 Dope up close and in person. Wild horses couldn’t have dragged me away (thank you Rolling Stones) from that opportunity.

 

The day I went up there, Ko-Kane and Higgy had come along for the ride. When we got Wyatt Earp Records, the line of insane Juggalos had already wrapped around the building and didn’t stop until another parking lot with some shady little apartments which shared the access drive. I was fucking pumped and also worried. My mom had only “allowed me” to go for a few hours. Judging from the line that was in front of me, that wasn’t going to work. Regardless of the time constraints, we got in line down at the tiny hood apartment houses and baked in the sun.

 

Juggalos were fucking hyped up and many were unruly. Faygo was getting sprayed on people, some were in face paint, but everyone had on their Psychopathic gear. I felt invincible in that moment, standing with a couple hundred of other Juggalo homies. No football superstar asshole jock was going to roll up in that lot and insult the scene, it would have been the end for them. These were fanatic 810 Juggalos and the kids were going crazy. This was also my first encounter with Rudy “Rude Boy” Hill, who was and still is a Psychopathic Legend. I remember him walking down the line, handing out “The Jokers Wild” singles to fresh ass Juggalos. I remember being star struck as we tried to rap with the Rude Boy, who seemed to be enjoying himself, chilling with the fans and dropping Juggalo gospel on us.

 

Twenty five years later, I’m currently writing a book with the Rude Boy and often times kick it with the homies from Cruisin The Barrio show on CRB Radio. Shout out to the Cruisers A.T. Huck, DJ Carlito, Lady T, Eric, and the King of  Southwest…Rudy. Talk about chasing your dreams. I will say this to Juggalos reading these very words. If you believe in yourself and do what you love, anything is possible. Ok, enough of the mushy shit.

 

I was in line for three hours, when a crazy thing happened. There was a hardcore Juggalo trying to cross the street to get in line with us, he was amped up and ran across Coruna Road without looking, totally fearless. The crazy cat got hit by a car, flew a few feet, got up and kept running to get in line. The driver was totally freaked out and bailed after realizing there were a shit load of crazies a few feet away, doing things she would never understand. I personally ran out of time and had to leave the line to go home and “check in” because there were no god damned cell phones back then. After losing my spot in line and begging my mom to let me return, I got back to Wyatt Earp Records and stood in line all over again for another two hours. Real Juggalos did that kind of shit without batting an eye or complaining.

 

If we would have run into someone crying about a delay or a fucking gift bag, we would have kicked the shit out of them, accused them of being a bitch boy, and run them off with violence. That is a fact. None of that cry baby ass shit would have been tolerated. And no real Juggalo could ever get worked up over something like that. When I hear that shit on social media and read the chicken shit posts by bitch babies, it really dampens my mood. I’m like “What the fuck are you doing here? Isn’t there an episode of American Idol on or something that person could move onto? I guess with every scene you have the real deal people and then there are “others” who are there for an odd assortment of reasons. Don’t tell me what your against, tell me what your for? We will get to the bottom of things a lot quicker doing it that way.

So after five hours, I was able to get into the Wyatt Earp Records finally and meet Violent J and 2 Dope. They were over the top, personable, and everything I hoped that they would have been. They already had a fan for life that day, but when artist show gratitude and love to the fans, it takes it to another level. Violent J jumped over the table and put me in a headlock of some sort, getting paint all over my Riddle Box shirt, which I kept for years but my mom tossed out (I still think about that shirt). I got autographs from both of them and then I was moving on. It was, up until that point, one of my best memories of the music and the culture.

 

 

 

 

Sadly, this brings us to the close for today. I know we only got to rub elbows with 1995 and a sliver of 1996 but keep coming back to ROX-TV because more episodes and content are coming. Until next time Juggalos and Juggalettes…..

 

 

Signing off,

 

Mike Shepard

ROX-TV Head Writer

shepard2909@hotmail.com

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