8/9/2019 The Noise is Too Much i Thus

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TheM ass MediaJuly 19,1983 5

C O M M E N T R Y

P O I N T O F

VIEW

The

noise

is too

much

with

u s

BEING ONE STUDENT S MONOLOGUE

CONCERNING THE BIZARRE METAPHYSICAL

OVERTONES OF NOISE

1

believe it was Thoreau w ho once said: T h e

mass

of

men lead

lives

o fnoisy desperation

(O f

course,

on e

m u s t

forg ive a

m i n d

o f

Thorea u's breadth

a nd

dep th

fo r

fai l ing

to i n c l u d e wo m e n insucha n insightful i n d i c tm e n t . T h e y ,

too, have been known to lead some fairly noisy

lives.

H o we v e r , th e fact is , Thoreau is above reproach in the

matter , s ince , a s we a l l know now, women had yet to

i n v e n t

themselves . It

w as

Thore au ' s lack

o f

women, sub-

l imated , which l ed to

h is

pueri le drive toward Trans-

c e n d e n ta l i sm , wh i c h ,

i n

tu rn , bega t

t h e

Six t i es ,

which , in

t u r n ,

bega t

th e

''me"

g e n e r a t i on , wh i c h ,

in

tu rn ,

begat

The Sex Pistols. There is

l i t t le

doubt tha t had the great

p h i l o so p h e r

been

fami l ia r

w i t h wo m e n

he

w ould have

spen t m uch l ess t ime indulg ing h imsel f

in the

woods

an d

more t ime

i n d u l g i n g

h is

w i f e ,

a t f i om ewh e r ehebelonged ,

with the house-apes

whin in g f rom

th e p laypen , "But

I

w a n tmore

meaning*.

A h ,bu t

such

i s

l ife,

as thewel l - fed

say , and we sha l l never know how a woman migh t have

changed Thoreau's idea of

c iv i l

disobedience.) The noise

is, indee d, too m uch wit h us (sometimes i t is too

much/or

us, an d w e crack up and go to pieces drooling in the

moonl igh t

for no

apparent reason).

I , for

one,

t h in k it

would be just fine if, for a couple of hours a day, every-

t h ing

an deveryone

could,

so to

speak,shut their yaw ning

yappers ifspace and time would juststopfor once at a

re d

l ight

an d

cease drag racing

each

other into

th e

n igh t ,

forcing th e

overworked

meta-physicians to go whirring

after them

to

give them tickets which those scofflaws have

no intention of paying

because

they have friends in high

places. How's apoor student tosleep through al l this

racket? I tel l you that such an

endless

barrageof hooting,

banging,

screaming, laughing, booming, howling,

h i ss ing , an drock n' rolli senought oprovoke lip-doodling

delirium in even thesteadiest of people.

Just this morning, as I lay trapped in one ot those lucid

dreams the id conjures up as some kind practical

joke

a psychotic bottle of tabasco sauce chasing m e

through the dark and twisted al leys of a

bur r i to , wi th

i n t e n t i ons

o f

ri tual ly

annb in t i ng ' m e ,

w hi le invoking some

savage archaic go d named Hul ly-Gul ly I was rudely

awak ened by the hysterical laughter of my alarm clock

( t im e to get up

hahaha ) wh i c h ,

a s a

result, discovered

H i g h t ,

boomeranged

off the far

wa l l ,

a nd

kamikazed onto

th e

bridge of my anchored

nose.

We ll time fl ies indeed, 1

t houg h t . Ju s tthen'thephone ran g, loud as a heart attack

ever notice that no matter how much you reason wi tht he

loudness swi tchy ou can ' t ca lm th e mean mother down?

so I

s tumbled in to

th e

l iv ingroom

(I can

understand

t he

concept

" l iv ing color,"

but why l iv ing

room'

1

.

I

have

a

theory: I suspect my l ivingroom sneaks out of the apart-

ment at nigh t and gathers w ith other l iving

rooms

to plot

th e

overthrow

of

k i tchens

a nd

bedrooms

al l

over Am erica.

That would account forsomeof the strange l i terature

that

has been show ing up in my l iving room of late: "A

Living

Room

Mani festo ," "The Coming Liv ing Room Revolu-

tion," Third World L iv ing

Rooms: The

Struggle Con-

tinues," and others) and picked up the receiver.

"Listen,

ijus t

called

toapologize

fo r

lastn i g h t , "

says

a

woman 's s i lky vo ice ,

"1

d idn ' t mean

to

embarass

you in

front

of al l those people about your crossed eyes. Oh,

da r l i ng , you

k n o w

1

love

you

w i t h

o r w i t h o u t

y o u r

eyes . . ."

"It

was

n o th i n g , "

1

y a w n e d , " forge tit."

"Ralph?

Is

th i s R a lph ?

Oh, my god. This is so

em -

b a r a s s i n g . I must have the wrong number . Sorry

"

pleads the

vo ice ,

then smi tes my ear w i th thunder .

I gently placed th e receiver back in the cradle. Then1

hearda strange, loud voice but, in wh irl ing 360

degrees,

1

found

no

source,

and thought :

oh-oh,

th i s i s i t . Lu cki ly ,

however ,

I

quickly real ized that

t he

voice

w as

emana t ing

from my roomie's

room. "Tommy

can you

hear

me?

Tommy? Tommy?Tommy?"

the

voice inquired over

an dover an dover. Well , I don't know aboutTommy, I

thought ,

but /

sure

as

hell

can

hear you . Wi th . the

ap-

propriate philosophical

detachment,

I

pummeled

m y

room-mate's

door.

"Is

it a

categorical imperative,"

I

shouted objectively,

"toplay tha t music

and,

for the

sake

of

a rgument ,let's

calli t

that

wit h so li ttle humili ty and, oh , so little regard

fo r al l

th e

sleeping people

i n

India?"

Th e

door roared

open, l ike so many of L i fe ' s

l i t t l e

d i s i l l u s ionm e n t s , an d

there stood

m y

room-mate ,

m y

lover , m y fr i end , he r lovely s inews tensed,, prepared to

pounce

in

that predatory style

tha t

betokens Love, sweet

Love.

" Bi c k e ty - b i c k e ty - b i c k e ty , " b a r k e d

H er

N a i v e n e s s

ove r The W h o .

" M o o n c o w- l a b i a l - a v a t a r , " I h i ssed an d sh o we d he r

somef a n g .

Then she wasgone, and thedoor s l ammed louderthan

oppor t un i t y in the

face

of black

A m e r i k a .

I got on my

hand

1

-' '

.u knees to feel a roundf orpieces of mysha t tered

honker . I got up and g lued m y nose back on wi th some

E l m e r ' s . T h e n1 gotdressed an dw e n tintot he ba throomto

take care of bus iness . W h e n I happened to look in the

mirror

I saw t h a t I had put my

nose back

o n

upside down

a nd

noted t h a t

it w a s n ' t th e

mi rror s teaming

up bu t my

eyes. I thought : i t ' s a shame au tom obi le de- i cers have

already been

i n v e n t e d I

would have made

a

m i l l io n .

1

w e n t

out.

in to

th e

k i t chen

and

looked

up at the

M i c k e y

Mouse c lock which suggested that I was a fool if I had

i n t e n t i o n s

of m a k i n git to class on t i m e . Igave

M i c k e y

a

j u i c y

raspberry

and he

responded

by

ra i s in g

one of his

h a n d s to g i v e

me.. the

f in ger . I turned my head

a w a y

in

a n g u i s h ,

li t an

absurd c igare t te ,

a n d

wo n d e r e d :

w h a t

docs

it

al l

mean? Then ,

as

tough

th e

e m b o d i m e n t

o f

angst ,

t he

sensi tve

smoke

alarm screamed

hys te r ical ly ,

Chi l l ed to

m yessence, overcome w i t h grief an d e m p a th y , I hastily

decided

in

favor

of

eu thanasia and ,

in a

m o n u m e n ta l

gesture

of

h u m a n i t y ,

I

ripped

out the

smokealarm's life

support system, and mused

inconsolably .

B u t , as though the Furies had been unloosed

from

Hades,

my lover room-mate fr iend emerged

from

her room raging. I tseems m y noise ( the srnoke alarm?)

was preven t ing her

from

enjoy ing her noise. (So charming

the tri l ls and flourishes of a wo man 's w rath ) I grabbed

a

coat

and m ade a run for i t clu ster-e xpletiv es explod-

in g

al l a round me. It r ipped down th e groaning stairsa nd

rushed ou t in to th e refresh ing

city

air in t ime to hear th e

melodic screech

and

scrunch

o f a

th ree-carp i le-up

at a red

l igh t d o wn th e s t ree t . T he lead driver had apparen t ly

failed to

ignore

the red l igh t

m u c h

to the

horror

an d

disbe l ie f of the v ic t ims in his

wake. Since nobody

w as

injured in the

p i l e - u p ,

it

took

all of 15

seconds

for the

dr ivers of the

respect ive veh ic les

to

converge

on one

a n o th e r w i t h vengeance in thei re y e s . A war ofproverbs

broke ou t , mucho f w h i c hw asdrownedout b y f l ight 666

overhead

on its final

approach . Amid

the din of

h o n k i n g ,

hoot ing , curs ing , and beep ing , two dr ivers

squared.off ,

the ir

fists clenched inapocalyptic f u ry .

"I'm

gonna make

your face look likem y fron t-end ."

"Not before

1

make

yourslook like

m y

rear-end."

Thent he

fists were

flying and

wrath ful blood spattered

th e

glassy

asphalt causing th e rubbernecks to

come

swarming in

wi th thei r l awnchairs

a nd

anecdotes. Mean-

while, the third driver was arguing with an old lady, who

had apparently intended to intercede,when al l of a sudden

he slugsher and down shegoes likea sackofpowdered

eggs.

That's

wh e n

th eo l"

cowchips really

hit the

prover-

bial fan.

Some

beefeaters

an d

cavemen close

in on the

guy . Bu t , before

they

c an

n ab

h im

to eat

h im a l ive ,g r a n n y

gets

up and

cracks

th e

guy 's sa fe

w i t h

an

exper t knee.

Then he

wants

todie. H ec r u m b l e sto theg roundas theriot

squad breaks th rough

the

l ine

at thenewly-ar r ived

conces-

s ion

t r u c k . M e a n wh i l e ,

t he

o ther

t w o

dr ivers have

bea ten

each o ther

in to

gua va j e l ly

and lay

across each otherl ike

u

w a l l e t photo of the My Lai massacre . Then th e

a m b u -

l ances come careen ing down th e street l ike a coupleo f

w inos

c h a s i n g

a

$1 0

b i l l

" W o w - w o w - w o w , " t h e y

scream

a t

each o ther

y e s s i r . t h e r e ' s g o n n a

be a

hoe-

d o w n

in the

o l'

dum ps t e r t o n igh t . T he paramedicshop

o u t ,

s l ide

th e

in jured in to

th e

back pockets

of the

a m b u -

lances , ho p back in ,

then

go g iddyupping i n tothe sunset .

" W o w - w o w - w o w , "

they

repeatover

a n d

o v e r

a g a i n

in

amazed

d isbel ief ,

w h i l e a n o th e r

je t

cracks

th e

so u n d

bar r ie r .

1 stood there, l i ke an Edvard M u n c h p a i n t i n g , m y

m o u t h

open to scream, bu t n o th in g c a m e ou t excep t an

i l l i t e ra t e

b u r p .

B ug - e ye d ,

horrif ied

to the c uf fs of my

designer j eans ,

late for

c l ass ,

I

decided

to rush

back

to my

l ove r ,

m y

f r i e nd ,

m yr o o m - m a te to let hersm o th e rme ,

m o t he r m e ,

m a k e

m e under s tand . Tears

were

s t r eaming

d o w n the d r a in p i p e s of my t o p sy - tu rv y nose , f i l l i n g m y

m o u t h

w i t h

sa l ty

p r i m e v a l

b r ine . \ felt

a l i v e ,

cosmologi-

c a l ,

sy c o p h a n t i c

and

y e t ,

and

y e t ,

so

a lone For ,

w ho

w as

more

sens i t ive ,

more wor thy

o f

respect , more equa l

to the take of d e sp a i r i n g wi th th e proper measure of

d i s c r e t i on , t h an I ,

who had

borne

g rudgeles s ly the

weigh t

of th i s weary wor ld w h e n Atlas shrugged w ho had

brought

a

large l igh t

w i t h tw o

sugars

and box of

M u n c h -

k in s

to

S i sy p h u s

at the

urban renewal s i te

as he sat ex-

hausted

by his

bu l ldozer l i s ten ing

to The Rol l ing F tones

on the

radio during

hi s

lunchbreak.

Oh, the

heavy burden ,

th e despair I

would have committed suicide

on the

spot

by

swal lowing mysel f , excep t

it

gets messy

and I had

noth ing

to

wear .

When 1 got back to the apartment my

lover

w as

asleep,

as was m y fr i end . Even my room-mate w as asleep . And,

ifit is anecessarycondition thatm y lover,m yfr i end ,a nd

m yroom-mateare al l the

samepe rson,a nd

the sum of the

parts

equals the

whole,

then, by moduspollens i t fol lows

that she is they as they are she and al l of them are together.

As I began todribblem yl ips ,t hephone rangand Ipicked

it up rel ieved, that for the m o m e n t , I would not be

alone

w j th

mysel f .

"Baby, lookI'm sorry aboutth epea soup . It

w as

an

accident,"

moaned some s t ranger , " i t ' s jus t . .

. jus t , um ,

maybe . . .m a y b e ya h shouldn ' tah made funnov m y eyes

l ike t h a t . . .But let 's forget it , h u h , baby? I ' l l buy yah a

ne w

blouse,

a new

bra ,

a new w ig a newany th ing. ..

Marg r i t ,

yathere?"

"Listen, Ra lph , i t ' s okay . Marg r i t ' s so rry , too . And

she"

"Who

the hell are you ? M A R G R I T M A R G R I T

Y O U S E E I N '

A N O T H E R G U Y ?

A h h h

mister ,

I 'm

c o m i n '

over there

an'

I 'm gonna

k i l l

ya yah hear me?

d o y a h

'' Then i t ' s BANG

in my

ear.

I sighed, opened

a

window, p icked

up the

phone

an d

tossed ito u t . I sat back in a cha i ra nd randomly pu l leda

noisy newspaper from

a

large pile spread

out on the floor.

I

needed

to be

d i s t rac ted .

I t was a

Hera ld ,

a few

m o n th s

old,

and the

headline read:

H I NCK :

SH R I NK S STI NK

I

d i d n ' tk n o w wh e th e rtol augh

or

cry . Ithought : once, jus t

once, Iwo u l d liketo seeth i s head l ineon the front pageo f

a newspaper :

EDITOR

GOES

BER SER K

K I LLS F RONT P A GE STOR Y

DESTROYS 2 C O L U M N S

I tossed

th e

Hera ld

out the

w i n d o w .

S o

m u c h

fo r

mass

c om m un ic a t i on . A ch i l l engul fed m e. Nobody loves m e

and I 'm

go ing

to die

a lone. Then

I got one of

those l ight

b u l b s in my

b r a i n .

A t f irs t I f igured i t was

t u m o r

for

sure ,

t h e n

1

rea l i zed that

it was an

idea

an d

a lmost fain ted.

I

t h o u g h t :

noise, noise,

noise

there ' s no th ing

but

noise

in

th i s crazy wor ld . So, the idea is to type it all up the

whole damn consp i racy surrounding the assass inat ion of

s i l ence

-a nd

m a i l

it out to

every newspaper , magazine ,

an d

gif t

shop in the

c o u n t r y .

In form th e

people

an d

thereby

se t

them free ,

or ,

perchance

oglee

shut

them up . Lo Lo 1 see the L igh t

So I sat there at the typew riter pounding out this

report,

aprophet

reborn,

ecstacy

of the

inner thigh

region,

wh e n

m yroom-mate's door crashes

open and anau thor i ta t ive

voice

booms:

"Will yo ukeep it

d o wn

ou t

there

I 'm

t ry ingto

sleep "

The l ig ht bulb poofs. Another typical day whimpers

a wa y .

John Hawkins