Like, there was a big clown craze in, I believe, the 1940s or 50s or something.

My grandma’s house has clowns all the fuck over the place, and there is something uncanny, unsettling, slightly disturbing about them.

I don’t understand the fear of them, just like general revulsion.

I imagine if some of your earliest memories were at your grandmother’s house with all of the weird clowns and something about them stuck with you, that could be a damn good foundation for an irrational fear.