Screaming for Peace!

THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD goes the booming bass of the stereos parked out across the street and down the hill from my home. From more than a football field's length away, the hip-hop, reggae or Jawaiian music assaults the very fabric of my being. Turn up the tv, but still it thuds so loud, you can't think of anything else but running over there and setting fire to all of them in their suped-up little rice racers.

These ignorant assholes drink in the park, smash bottles, scream and yell, vandalize, and basically act like complete fools. They have no consideration for the more than thirty families living in victimized ear-shot of their assholery.

Last night, I called the cops - again, and after two hours HPD's Finest came and got them out. I just had to yell, had to go to the edge of the fence and scream my protest. "Welcome to Palisades, " yells back one of these cowards while sulking into his mommy-financed car, with his baggy pants down around his thighs, underwear exposed to the whole disgusted world. Another whines, "stop yelling," to which I reply, "Why?! You don't like the NOISE!?!"

These make-believe toughs, these two-bit thugs know nothing of the pain and suffering that went into the lyrics sung by their supposed heroes - heroes they would despise as "mainlanders", were they ever to actually attempt to live here. They have no understanding of anything outside their microcosmic coconut shell, and therefore have no right whatsoever to even own that music, much less blast it the way they do.

Yet there they are, night after night, being rude assholes, and calling us "Haoles" for bringing the fact so forcefully to their attention.

What's the matter with people here? Does no one else hear it? Do they all lock themselves away, afraid to make waves, afraid to speak up? I know they have to be bothered. Why are we the only ones who take a stand?

I've got to go back to what I have said again and again: people are fucking cows.
They line up, wait in silent discontent, take whatever whoever is giving, and not a peep comes out of them. I pass them daily on the street, in traffic, and at work, they surround me!

I don't care. I can't be silent.
Fuck those assholes.

POW! -POW! POW!
"Aw look, I put a puka tru yo head!"

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Middle-Aged Man and Dr. Martens: A Love-Hate Story

Image
I first learned about Dr. Martens in 1992, when my friend Matt, who was cool as all get-out, was wearing a pair on campus at the small college I was attending in New Hampshire. The shoes were Docs, the 1460s, kind of shiny, and not the boots. When I got the chance, I had a pair of my own. Wearing Docs fit in with my developing darker persona in the early-to-mid '90s. I wore mostly black, listened to the Sisters of Mercy, wore an old Army-Surplus field coat, and was pissed off at the world. Living in Boston, and living without a car, I walked everywhere. The city streets are rough on footwear, and my jobs always required a lot of time on my feet, so the Docs were great! --Once I had them broken in. As a teacher, I liked that they were tough and comfortable and fit well with my lifestyle as a young ESL teacher on the make (if an ESL teacher can ever be said to be "on the make"). Then I moved to Fiji, and Docs did not work in that environment at all. They quickly molde
Read more

My Experience Owning Two Scottish Terriers

Image
This morning, I was reading an interview with a Scottie breeder. She was going on about how Scotties are very independent and are certainly NOT lapdogs. She said they are likely to be aggressive towards strange dogs and that they hate to be treated with condescension. Apparently, my Scotties are not really Scotties. Maybe my evil plan worked: I bought them as wee puppies and brought them home to a family of Malteses, six Malteses, to be exact. I reasoned that this environment would teach my Scotties how to behave in a more Maltese fashion, and it worked! For starters, they are very much lap dogs! They love to lie on me or very near me, and they love to get rubbins and snuggles, just like my Malteses did (before the ex took them to FL). They are very friendly with other dogs, which is rather unlike my Malteses, actually. And they are quite well-behaved, generally speaking. My Scotties are not typical, then, except for a few factors: First, they do not listen very well, espe
Read more

Rage against One Machine by Way of Another

Image
Life in middle management has been an oft-times bitter pill to swallow. Increased responsibility, longer hours, and dealing with more headaches--all while not getting a raise in salary ("lateral move," they said)--all contribute to a serious sense of unease, bordering on despair. Suffice't to say that the past year has been more stressful than I have had to deal with in over a decade, and it has left me feeling increasingly unhappy, angst-ridden, outraged, and just plain demoralized. Lately, and on an increasingly more emphatic scale, I have been looking towards my one and only real outlet for my frustrations: riding my motorcycle. I've ridden more than in years, I have formed an ad hock group of riders/motovloggers for a yearly meetup, I've bought a new motorcycle, and I've wrapped the "biker lifestyle" around myself like a blanket to defend me from the cold. After the bike purchase, I got myself a new jacket, new boots, a Harley biker wallet, c
Read more