My candle burns at both ends
It will not last the night;
But ah, my foes, and oh, my friends -
It gives a lovely light.

Edna St. Vincent Millay, "A Few Figs from Thistles", US poet (1892 - 1950)

Tuesday, 24 April 2007

The Sound of Silence, or Lack Thereof

There seems to be a general move at the moment to dig up as much of the street beneath my window as possible, as loudly as possible.

Yesterday I was disturbed from half-past eight until eleven o'clock by gentlemen making a journey to the centre of the earth with what sounded like a convulsive woodpecker and a giant truck oozing grimey-black filth. Over which they proceeded to recite as much of their repertoire of expletives as was feasibly possible in the space of two and a half hours, all the while addressing one another with abuse such that any given outburst comprised more obscenities than it did sense.

On the same side of the street, workmen are attempting to assemble a large electronic advertising hoarding with backlighting. They've been at it since Friday and they seem to be no further on than when they started, notwithstanding the great commotion they caused over the weekend (yes, even on a Sunday morning). Across the road, and directly opposite my window, is a house entirely bedecked with scaffolding and currently without a roof from which the continual sound of hammering and sawing and welding emanates from almost the moment I get up to the moment I go to bed.

To add a touch of absurdity to general irritation, someone is presently pretending to be a wolf and has been howling for a full five minutes to the audible amusement of passers-by.

Now I know that the world must go on despite exams, but is it really necessary to cause so much noise?

Some of us are trying to revise.

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