Remembering Pierrot Bidon: Part Two

Pierrot was reminiscent of the circus folk that dispatch pragmatic wisdom learnt from the experiences of the road. Subversive and intellectually acute, Pierrot looked the part; a philosopher with a touch of gypsy, plus all the coolness of a leather-jacketed rocker. His gobbets of perception were delivered with an abundance of warmth and a laconic impish smirk, illuminated by a twinkle in his eyes.

The internet distributes bad news at lightning speed. Emails swarmed, news of his death flew inside cyberspace the instant he breathed his last. An extraordinary outpouring of love followed, from the Archaos Diaspora. If they did not know it before, the learnt something after his death; they were all entwined with an invisible chord, wrapping their hearts, conjoined with a communal love of the man. All those he touched were desperate to be united with brothers, sisters, lovers, comrades and companions insistent that the pay homage to the family patriarch.

It might have been easy to mistake him for the epitome of an alternative, creative, hard-drinking, hell-raising, larger than life character, but Pierrot had a softer, more contemplative persona alongside an insatiable appetite for life. He was an idealised self-portrait of a rebellious nonconformist with an undeniable predilection for low-key bravado.

One of Pierrot’s memorable aphorisms exemplified his inner soul: “It is important to be mad and crazy. We must not look on life as normal. I like it when they say you are not normal. I say it is important to be insane – it makes the world a more pleasant place.”