Sunday morning. At last. Time to rest, doze, wake up a little, get some coffee, doze. Listen to the birds. Doze. Let the sunshine slant over my bed, doze. Feel at peace with myself and the world.
07:30 sharp: The bloody churchbells begin. I lie in bed, fuming. The dogs howl in distress in every street for miles around, clawing at their ears. The hadedas take fright, rise up in their dozens, and yell their alarm across the quiet suburb. Soon the whole neighbourhood descends into a cacophony (from Gk. kakophonia, from kakophonos “harsh sounding,” from kakos “bad, evil” + phone “voice”. Etymologists connect it with PIE *kakka- “to defecate”).
I count the chimes. 170. No complex peals, no changes, just the monotonous clang of metal against metal. ‘Chimes’ suggests dulcet tunefulness. These sounds are just intrusive, arrogant, noisy, monotonous, appalling.
07:33: Thank god they’ve finished. Doze, snooze.
08:00 sharp: The bloody churchbells begin again, in case anyone missed the first racket. I lie in bed, fuming. The dogs howl in distress again. The hadedas take fright, and yell, again. 170 chimes, again.
08:03: Get up, grumpy and infuriated with the arrogance of Christendom. What’s the problem with these conservative Calvinist people? They have watches under their white polyester cuffs, they can tell the time. They have cellphones in their expensive leather handbags. They receive sms’s all day long. Why do they need such an intrusive call to prayer?
I can feel a move coming on. Time to ring the changes.
