Posted in Musings

Keep Quiet, For Crying Out Loud!

We seem to live in an era where noise pollution is sexy.

Down the street lives a lad who notifies the whole neighbourhood every time he passes thanks to his Royal Enfield ‘bullet’ motorcycle. Every morning we hear him whirring past, and spare a moment to listen intently for the imminent crash that somehow he narrowly missed each day. I have never understood what the deal with the bike is. Sure, it looks sort of cool and apparently it’s great for long rides, but do you really need all that ruckus to accompany you on every single ride? Every time? Seriously?? I’m surprised these people don’t end up stone deaf by the time they finish college.

I watched Breakfast At Tiffany’s for the first time yesterday. Now I don’t want to go into the review and all. It is sufficient to say that I loved Audrey Hepburn and could really relate to her character by the end, but if there’s one thing that stole the show for me it’s the silences. 

Ah the silence! I don’t mean actual breaks in the conversation but the lack of noise in the background. These days there’s always some kind of BGM playing no matter what the plotline is, or else they make sure there is inherent chatter or gunshots or traffic to make up for the absence of it, right to the end credits. Except of course for that one silent moment when you know something crucial is going to happen like someone getting killed or proposed to, but then I repeat myself. The list of songs is so long, it actually takes another dozen songs to get to the end of the credits. (On a curious note, who watches the end credits and listens to those songs anyway? Are there really people out there who go “I payed for the movie/cable/Netflix so I might as well get the most of it. Ooh, Times New Roman. OMG I totally did not know that the the fifth waiter from Hotel XYZ was played by the same person as the Random Guy On The Bus. Ah Coldplay. Now that’s a nice song to go with the font.”. I mean, who does that?)

Clamour clamour everywhere and not a word to be heard. And while we are on the subject, do we really need those long red strings of deafening firecrackers that offer little visual appeal and lots of toxic gases? That will be a useful government ban for a change. Or the endless blaring of horns when you know there is no way the traffic is going to clear up in the country in the next million years? 

I think what I’m trying to say in this neurotically hyperbolic article is that some quiet would be great. Dear lads with the Bullet bikes, chicks don’t dig broken eardrums. Please get silencers, and while you’re at it, maybe you can learn the whereabouts of the brakes on your contraption as well.

Peace. ✌

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Author:

A wayward thinker hiding behind the facade of necessary courtesies

8 thoughts on “Keep Quiet, For Crying Out Loud!

  1. I live in a small community that’s now covered in a thick blanket of snow. So all I hear is the occasional ski-doo. It took so time getting use to, but I’ve come to appreciate it. πŸ™‚

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    1. I don’t have a problem with regular stuff and people, it’s all the unnecessary and the unpleasant that gets to me. I can be quite boisterous myself in the right company πŸ˜€

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    1. It’s something I’ve always wondered about, the song sequences during end credits. They typically have a pep number first and then slow piece. It’s not like people actually wait to waltz to those after the movie πŸ˜€

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      1. Little secret: I typically watch the credits all the way through. It’s just a film-geek thing I have. But yes, the song selections annoy me, and you are right, we start of with something peppy so that you can feel good about yourself even if the movie involved the violent death of hundreds of people, followed by a mournful dirge by some indie musician that we will never hear from again. Once we get down to the catering credits, they ramp the tempo back up. I guess food gets everybody excited… πŸ˜‰

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      2. Ahem. How do you suppose I learnt about those song choices myself πŸ˜‰ πŸ˜‰ Of course, no self respecting person would admit to it, hence the humourous cover up for my obvious innate nerdy issues. πŸ˜›

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