The Caustic Window – We are all Spotifucked…
We are all Spotifucked…
There are mornings when you hear the driving mid-winter Berlin rain hitting the window with the violence of a hornet’s nest that has just been forced into an unwanted romantic tryst with a blunderbuss. Not some half-assed “GET OFF MY LAWN!” buckshot awakening of the small-town North American persuasion, but a proper capital M morning that anyone in their right mind would declare the day a complete and total non-starter.
An awakening so unjust and brutal, one has not a fucking chance of becoming ambivalent or used to, when, out of debilitating fear, one raises one’s head to figure out what in God’s name was making such an infernal racket and realizes it’s the utterly uncontrollable will of the Old Testament home-wrecking life destroyer of Abraham, the right and powerful true weather man, HE who’s spite has no end, forcing one to call it a fucking day, and pull the blanket up over one’s head and pray you’ve mistaken the noise as just one more in an endless stream of early morning road works or forgettable political insurrections, and not truly an “Act of God” as the cocaine addled insurance salesmen call it to screw you out of ever-increasing monthly payments.
Another in a long line of “Just go the fuck back to sleep” Berlin specials.
…and then there are other mornings which fill you with such rage at their sheer stupidity from noise of the online sort. Those that provoke an even greater level of the same burrowing ostrich-head response, praying to still more ancient Gods for a tranquilizer, pharmaceutical or, failing the availability of said happy pills, a swift blow to the head of the strongest order to make it all stop….
