Lullaby of the Damned

TRUE! Sleepy. Very very sleepy I have been and am. But why would you say that I am mad, or whatever? 'Twas me, like a baby, in my loft bed aslumber yesterday morn, dreaming of doves, of cupcakes, and of Abercrombie and Fitch models, when what should steal away from me these pleasant sleepful visions in the dark early morning but the maddening crash of a maniacal organ, carried upon the wisps of a shivering October breeze, from somewhere in the grim outside world and delivered unto me as I struggled to remain behind the veil of sleep in my downy divan.

(Clicketh the clicky below to experience the unChristian sound that thrust me into wakefulness and caused my cat Stella to dig her tender talons into my eyebrows. Then continue reading)



What is this infernal sound mocking my heavy eyelids and sending my cat into convulsions of medieval scratching? It is the soundtrack to a child's nightmare. A particularly unimaginative child, for who has not heard this particular organ racket a million times in television commercials during the All Hallows' Eve season? TRUE! BUT! It is an altogether different sensation when one is resting comfortably in a cotton candy cocoon and one's eardrums are suddenly raped mightily by the dirge of doom.

Now this may be the point where you fancy me mad, or at least way too sensitive to noise, but I tell you I knew once the organ entered its second minute that its source was a place of unspeakable evil.

"That fucking school is fucking obnoxious!" my male companion lamented as he stomped through the dormitory half-naked and seething, opening drawers in the kitchen and closing them violently just to muffle the sound of the dreadful musical monstrosity seeping through our walls and into our dark and bitter souls.

Yes, it was the elementary school right behind us. The devil's own playground.

The vampiric utterings of the undead organ continued, and I submitted to its breathless noise my little silver Kodak machine, for as to capture some of its sinister rambling. Herewith, listen, and foreso:



'Twas a full hour later, and the fiendish death moan of the elementary school organ continued. I ate my toast while covering both ears! And still the diabolical dervish of noise seeped through my frozen fingers to molest my eardrums anew, with a ferocious vigor. TRUE! And NOT COOL!

With a pounding, putrid head and a palpitating heart, I dressed myself as best I could--for a gentleman must not forget to put on his pantaloons and pinafore, no matter how little sleep he's had. I grabbed my manpurse--for that is what it is called--and escaped the maddening dungeon of my dormitory, stumbling down the steps to the street four flights below.

If you still think me mad, you will do well to hear me out: outside my building and on the early morning avenue the infernal organ was louder and even more demonic than it had been previous to this, its meandering melody searching the air for virginal ears to violate with its frenzied harmonics and hellhound screeching. (BOTH!)

Rounding the corner, I finally came face to face with the wicked wreck of humanity that had inspired such a malevolent morning of frenzied phantasmic organ grinding (courtesy of a powerful sound system blasting the obscene noise): yes, it was elementary school children. Dressed in costumes designed by the devil himself. Lining up outside their school to receive candy treats from the PTA or some bullshit. They were diabolically adorable.

Look into their baleful eyes and tell me you do not hear the obscene, depraved hissing of a hideous and poisonous serpent of death.