Silencing the sirens and the Lillipudlian– I mean, LIVERpudlian– hallucinations in my head

Now the Sirens have a still more fatal weapon than their song, namely their silence. And though admittedly such a thing never happened, it is still conceivable that someone might possibly have escaped from their singing; but from their silence certainly never.

Franz Kafka

Yesterday as I was sitting at my computer in what The Wife calls “the literary man cave,” I kept hearing sirens as if off in the distance, almost all day and all night.

First, let me place the story in its proper setting. We live in a small town in the country, not Compton where sirens are a common occurrence. When helicopters fly over our house, usually it’s for the latest yahoos who skidded their motorcycles across a patch of God’s green earth, not the Pol-ese.

So why was I hearing sirens? I asked The Wife when she got home and said Medic 2 was responding to something going on in a nearby town. She passed it on its way. All right. That must have been it then, but then why was I still hearing it an hour later?

I asked The Wife. “Do you hear sirens?”

“No, it must be in your head.”

I’ve had a lot of things in my head– the voices that tell me to be as offensive as Chelle B. at The Offended Blogger or to talk about mammaries all the time like Meg at Prefers Her Fantasy Life — but most of the time, I don’t listen to them. Well, I listen, but don’t follow through.

But now sirens? To be honest, it’s getting a little crowded in here. What with the voices, not to mention with the ramblings I concoct on the crack of salad dressings, Scripto giga pens, the so far unplanned chicken barbecue for Planned Parenthood, and then with the ear worms that get entrenched there.

The latest ear worm: “Piggies” by the Beatles. Don’t ask me why. I don’t know.

It’s like the images on the backs of my eyelids. You know, the muscae vitae. I can’t get rid of them either.

Luckily, though, they’re usually just purple spots and squiggly amoeba-like creatures and not Vietnam flashbacks (as if, I was born when that clusterfahrvenugen was well under way), although that would be pretty bitchin’ if they were Vietnam flashbacks like in Platoon (which, by the way, The Wife has never seen. Can you believe that?) or even better Apocalypse Now, one of my favorite movies if just for this scene.

So as you can tell, I don’t need any sirens in my head. I may need a doctor, but I certainly don’t need sirens.

O, Great Muse, take these sirens from my ears and give them to someone else. Just don’t give me ear worms like this to silence the sirens:

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9 responses to “Silencing the sirens and the Lillipudlian– I mean, LIVERpudlian– hallucinations in my head

  1. Pingback: Saturday’s Me and You: The week in review 8/23/08 « An unfinished person (in this unfinished universe)

  2. unfinishedperson

    Jenn: You’re too funny. You’re right, though. Wouldn’t want to take an ambulance. Would want The Wife to take me sans sirens.

    Meg: I revisited the post (sorry, been busy today). Nice photo of Darwin and the monkey. Weird.

    Sister: Yep, like that. You’re right, I do need serious drugs.

    Chris: Yeah, Apocalypse Now is an acquired taste. Not the same thing, but I tried to show some guys on my floor in college the movie and they kept mocking it and laughing at it. 😦 I was scarred for life. (Okay, not really, but it sounds like a good story, so I’m sticking to it.)

    Jeff: Yes, it is like tinnitus. Maybe that’s what it is. And that’s true. At least, it was the Beatles.

  3. I have tinnitus. Is that the same thing? Oh, and thanks for the ear bug. At least it was the Beatles!

  4. When I was 20 I took a girl I really liked to see ‘Apocalypse Now.’ I couldn’t believe she hadn’t seen it.

    Today, that’s the type of behaviour I consider a mistake. I like this whole being mature thing. It means I can get away with a lot more quiet farting.

  5. Hey, is this like when you heard the train whistle all the time when we were growing up?

    You need some serious drugs, brother.

  6. Hey, everybody’s on the mammary bandwagon, not just me. btw, I just added a pic of the homework assignment itself–you’ll have to revisit the post.

    My favorite scene from Apocalypse Now is when Brando says, You have the right to kill me. But you don’t have the right to judge me.

    As for the voices, that’s what happens when you’re part of a secret cabal.

  7. Maybe you need to have some medical person look into that– only don’t take an ambulance because, well, um…

    It probably will only exacerbate the condition.

  8. unfinishedperson

    Er, yeah. I knew that.

    Okay, I didn’t. It was like 6:30 in the morning when I was writing this thing and I had those sirens in my head and that song and I really couldn’t hear you.

    For more mistyped gyms (I mean, gems), follow me on my new Twitter username, the alter ego of unfnshdprsn.

  9. LIVERpudlian, honey. Lilipudlian is someone from Liverpool by way of Gulliver’s Travels. If you are going to bug me for a title you need to transcribe it correctly.

    Kisses,
    Your Wife