Circle Jerks

When there is nice weather over the weekend oftentimes a group of drum and bongo enthusiasts will get together and play for hours at Loose Park. Their music fills the air as joggers and walkers pass by during the course of a summer day.

And it has got to fucking stop.

Nobody wants to hear your shit hippies.

Hip-hop listening minorities playing their music at full blast will most likely soon be the victim of urban combat or spend the next 15-20 years in the pen, so their music is tolerable. But the only way these bongo playing bastards will ever make more breathing room on planet Earth is through some kind of freak patchouli overdose.

So they are going to have to shut the fuck up. Soon.

The bongo playing bunch is not providing culture or creating an artistic environment, they're simply making a bunch of fucking noise that nobody is paying to hear. Sure, the park doesn't belong to me but it doesn't belong to them either. So I shouldn't have to hear them working themselves into a trance more than a quarter mile away.

Who says banging on something rhythmically is a talent anyway? If it were, I would have made my stunning masturbation skills pay off years ago. But sadly, no one is paying me to beat my meat in much the same way these guys beat their drumskins. Coincidentally, I swear next time I see that group of aging hippies polluting the public space, I'm gonna take out my rain stick and go to work. What's wrong? You don't like the skin flute? Then pack your drums away Sunflower and play them for your 50-something librarian girlfriend over there wearing the hemp skirt. But do it in the privacy of your own home.

Civilization means that we respect the rights of others. Unless I get my turn to play death metal in the park, I don't want to listen to you trying to summon the spirit of Jerry Garcia. These impromptu concerts are not only bothersome but also passe. Society has moved past the drumbeats of the wild echoing through the wilderness, or at least those drumbeats that don't feature 50 Cent.