FLATULENT HARLEYS

     Please don't shout. I don't like loud. We've got laws prohibiting excessive noise but they usually aren't enforced.  
     Loud motorcycles especially bother me.

Years ago I banned them from the King Mango Strut parade. I've got no time for guys on Harleys with their uncomfortable rumble that says "f-ck you" to everyone nearby.    
    I'm in Santa Cruz, CA, now where a local letter-to-the editor from a Miles Zarathustra expressed it perfectly.  
He wrote,

   I object to the handful of morons who hold Santa Cruz hostage each weekend with the loud, ugly, noise of their motorcycles.
What mental dissonance Harley riders must experience, imaging themselves as heroes, while forcing on to the rest of us such hideous sonic blight.  
    The bloated disease of biker's fart fetish pollutes the air, an attack on any who value tranquility, or indeed, their hearing. The police do nothing to prevent this health hazard.
    It is possible to find happiness without annoying everybody around you. Failure to do so is not heroism, but laziness and a selfish lack of imagination.  One might call it cognitive flatulence.
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