By David Thorpe
While perusing Insane Clown Posse's Twitter timeline, like a person does, I came across something interesting: Our favorite rap clowns announced a new update to their official smartphone app, which I didn't even know existed. For the advancement of pop journalism and human knowledge in general, I hereby volunteer to investigate.
See also: - Regarding juggalos, we should all be down with the clown - I'm just a juggalo, everywhere I go, the FBI knows the part I'm playing - Review: Insane Clown Posse at the Ogden Theater, 9/29/11
The ICP app carries a steep price tag of $1.99, but it promises to "blow your mind with exclusive content not available anywhere else." I admit that this story nearly ended here, but my deep commitment to the truth compelled me to bear the considerable expense. Plus, I can probably write it off on my taxes or hit The Voice up for an envelope full of nickels.
The iTunes app page has a long list of fairly tame parental advisories, but I decided to proceed anyway. It warns of "infrequent/mild horror," which nicely sums up the experience of occasionally remembering that ICP exists (it also warns of "mature" themes, but I'm skeptical about that one).
Considering the tremendous number of ICP fans in the world, it's strange that the app has only one review on iTunes. It might mean that freedom-loving Juggalos prefer the openness of the Android platform, or maybe the price tag cuts a little too deep. That's like twelve bottles of Faygo.Apple made me confirm all my credit card details when I tried to purchase the ICP app. I guess it set off some flags; maybe it's like when your bank calls you and says, "Hey, someone in Atlanta just tried to buy a bag of Cheetos and $50 worth of scratcher tickets with your card." They didn't believe it was really me.
Upon starting the app, I was confronted with a permissions badge. Being a fearless journalist willing to risk my personal safety for the benefit of a story, I tapped "OK." I also gave them permission to access my current location. The Insane Clown Posse knows where I am right now.
