Jim Rose Circus Sideshow Runs Gamut of Grotesque : A mixture of the disgusting and degrading, it’s headed for Ventura. It is a hit with audiences with strong stomachs.

“. . . but what will happen to the boy when the circus comes to town?”

--Harry Nilsson

Every night is painful at a Jim Rose Circus Sideshow gig, where weird is normal and real normal is somewhere else. First of all, the act is more sideshow than circus--there are no clowns, no ringmaster, no trapeze, no animals, no tent.

Another odd thing about all this is that the group is coming to the Ventura Theatre on Saturday night, and they are signed to American Recordings, but there’s no music--unless the groans of the crowd are considered music to the ears.

“Rock ‘n’ roll talks the talk. We walk the walk,” Rose said during a recent phone interview.

What the group has is a gnarly 30-minute video with a warning sticker on it bigger than a ’67 Chrysler. At his circus of the scars, presumably, there are stern disclaimers from Rose not to try any of the stunts at home.

Recently, MTV gonged portions of the video deemed too suggestive to the youthful dumbbells of America. Now, if a kid drives a railroad spike through his forehead as he sings “Casey Jones,” should the parents sue the performer or should the state sue the parents for having a stupid kid?

“Don’t do these stunts at home,” Rose said. “Use a neighbor’s house. Maybe a kid doesn’t quite understand the repercussions of setting a trailer on fire; but if he eats a light bulb, don’t blame it on me. You would think the basic instinct of survival would kick in.”

Yes, Rose does eat light bulbs, usually one per show. But he got caught up doing live press in England and ate five in one day, then was hospitalized later in Amsterdam with internal bleeding. Rose also hammers nails (big ones) up his nose and sticks his mug in broken glass while someone from the audience stands on his neck. We need this like a cat needs a vacuum cleaner.

“People say it’s the most exciting show they’ve ever seen,” said Rose, who’s seen plenty. “It’s two hours of on-the-edge-of-your-seat entertainment. We try to draw the line at blood, but the show is like a car accident on the freeway without the blood.”

But Rose’s act is just the tip of the meat clever. He also emcees the proceedings with the vocal fervor of a Sam Kinison who is fourth in line at a doughnut sale.

Rose calls the play-by-play for Mr. Lifto, the Torture King, the Enigma and Matt (The Tube) Crowley. Do you really want to know what these people do? Sure you do--that’s why Freddie Krueger movies and road kill always have an audience.

Mr. Lifto has 11 pierced body parts and lifts heavy weights. A couple of irons from his ear lobes? Or how about this: He picks up a piece of luggage with his tongue and swings a cement block from his nipples.

“Mr. Lifto is the most popular public display since the outlawing of hanging,” the tender-hearted Rose said.

While the “Hellraiser” movies caused horror fans to hide their eyes, the Torture King took notes. This guy sticks pins--more than 20 of them--through various body parts. At one point, he sticks a meat skewer through both cheeks. The Torture King puts the “ow” in “wow.”

“He’s world-famous for what he can endure,” said Rose, exaggerating not a bit. “For this Ventura show, the Torture King is going to attempt the most severe of all stunts. He’s going to lie on razor blades, then we’ll put cement blocks on his chest and break them with sledgehammers. Three people in the last 11 years haven’t survived this one.”

Hey, everyone needs a hobby.

The Enigma needs a map. The Enigma is a living Illustrated Man who has enough tattoos to outdo every biker in the Western Hemisphere. He used to have the outline of a jigsaw puzzle drawn from his bald head to his toes, but he recently set a record by being tattooed by 15 people at once. The Enigma swallows swords, eats fire, in addition to creepy crawly members of the food chain like worms and bugs.

“Crickets live to be 9 months old; these won’t,” Rose said.

Once a pharmacist in Montana, “The Tube” now is a very bizarre brew master. He sticks a seven-foot plastic tube down his nose to his stomach, then holds up a container to which is added a quart of beer, some chocolate syrup, a few squirts of ketchup and liquid antacid. Down it goes. Whoa. Up it comes. Yuck. Presto--bile beer. Tastes great? Less filling? Where’s my barf bag? Tough, stupid, thirsty or drunk people in the audience are invited to taste the concoction. Look for their brains on milk cartons in the near future.

After making a name for themselves in Europe, the act completed a sold-out tour in Canada; were hits in Portland, Seattle and San Francisco; appeared in Newsweek and on the “Sally Jesse Raphael Show.” This mesmerizing masochistic monument to the maimed was an unexpected hit on the 1992 Lollapalooza Tour.

“After all that exposure, the Lollapalooza tour picked up,” Rose said. “They were very artist-friendly. Eddie Vedder of Pearl Jam, Flea from the Red Hot Chili Peppers, Al Jourgensen of Ministry and Chris Connell of Stonegarden drank the bile beer.”

Yet everything is not fingers-in-the-car-door dreamy and Jack-the-Ripper righteous--someone stole Rose’s shrunken head. Naw, this isn’t a bad hair day joke; Rose’s other head was stolen during the last month. His label sent out a fact sheet on the caper--”Cursed Shrunken Head Missing.” There’s a 10-grand reward, no questions asked.

“There’s a curse on the head and if anyone takes it out of its encasement, they’re in for some very, very bad luck,” said Rose, keeping his head despite the tragedy.

Rose grew up in Phoenix, where he had a normal childhood, at least until the circus came to town. Now hospital directors are considering naming the new wing after Rose; that will be the one right next to the one named after Evel Knievel.

“I was into the circus as a kid,” said the Prince of Pain. “It came through two or three times a year, plus we lived near the State Fairgrounds. Before all the hustlers took over, they used to hire neighborhood kids to help by promising us a stuffed animal.

“They used to let us go backstage, and I met people like the guy that put out a blowtorch with his tongue. I started doing escapes at an early age.”

In his early 20s, Rose was in Amsterdam to learn contortion. He joined the Rondolini Circus and toured Europe in the early ‘80s. Later, Rose ended up in Seattle doing weird things at a Middle Eastern restaurant before a packed house, many of whom may also have liked the belly dancers.

“I started collecting these like-minded maniacs who would show up to audition,” Rose said. Now, here he is--the Freak of the Week.

The rock band D.O.G. will open. Guess the Pain Teens, House of Pain and Harmful if Swallowed had prior arrangements. . . .

Dinner reservations are available.

Bill Locey, who writes regularly on rock ‘n’ roll, has survived the mosh pit and the local music scene for many years.