Ladies and gentlemen, I don't mean to sound uncouth, but if I had my way I'd go out there and cut the battery cables to each and every one of those stupid things. While I was at it I'd probably scratch "Disturbs the Peace" into the paint on the hood of every offender, as well, just to make myself feel better for having to put up with that unholy racket. I took a peek out my window when a particularly good clap of thunder set them off, and there had to be ten of them in front of my window alone flashing their lights, honking their horns and doing their best to wake the dead folks over at the cemetery. Dig on it -- ten of those things out there, beeping and whooping and carrying on. Police get called out for smaller assemblies of suspicious-looking kids, but there's nothing I can do about ten vehicles out there that are seemingly hell bent on keeping me awake and spoiling my enjoyment of a really kick-butt storm.
Speaking of the stupid devil, one car's alarm just started going off a few seconds ago, for absolutely no good reason. It's not storming, no cars went by without mufflers, the stupid thing just spontaneously decided that silence is a Bad Thing and that it had to do something about it.
Recently I've been reading about these geniuses all over the nation (including the rocket scientists 29 miles away in Chicago) who have come up with the positively stunning idea of launching wave after wave of frivolous lawsuits against firearm manufacturers (primarily those who produce handguns). The supposed logic behind this is that handguns -- hell, firearms in general -- are a "public nuisance." Bullshit! You want a real nuisance, one that destroys quality of life, contributes to noise pollution and in general makes people turn into slavering cavemen searching for a skull to smash in with a rock? Take a look out your window, into the nearest parking lot or road. Do you see that shiny new Beemer out there? The one that goes off into a paroxysm of horrid, blatting, ear-splitting notification that somebody's penis extension has been looked at wrong, all because a butterfly flapped its wings in Paraguay? THAT is a public nuisance. These things went from having a real value to cliched statements about one's supposed worth and class. "Look at me, I have an alarm on my car so that everyone and their mother in the parking lot can hear that somebody's shopping cart tapped my bumper. They'll know it, they'll ignore it, but I'll be safely inside the Super Valu comparing tubes of Rogaine, completely out of earshot! I have no concept of just how annoying my car is or how easily it's set off. All I know is that people think I'm well-paid and important! I'm also too stupid to realize that my neighbor's punk teenager just installed a car alarm on his rusted out Chevy Nova, completely invalidating my theory that car alarms only belong to important people with expensive cars!"
Car alarms serve no purpose but to make a racket that nobody has cared about for the last five years. They keep people up at night. And maybe... maybe it's just me, and feel free to correct me if I'm wrong, but doesn't it seem as if these little masterpieces of technology are easier to set off than Joe Pesci in Goodfellas? What purpose does that serve, other than to piss off the general public-at-large (e.g. me, when I'm trying to sleep at four in the freaking morning?!). Let's start restoring some order and peace to our neighborhoods. First step? Ban the sale of any more car alarms. You want the discount on the insurance for your flashy new penis compensator, get something like a stealth switch or an "intelligent ignition" like Chevy's Passkey-II system. Either one of those items is fifteen billion times more effective at actually preventing theft of your car than a friggin'' alarm. Once we've banned new alarms being sold, we'll take the next step: the systematic eradication of every last pre-existing installation. Incentives for prompt removal will be the failure of Gweedo and Tony to show up at your door to break those pesky legs of yours that keep working. If you positively, absolutely refuse to have it removed, just let me know. I'll be sure to stop by and give you a motivational speech. I'm sure once I'm done flaying the skin off the soles of your feet and sprinkling salt upon the tattered remnants of your flesh you'll start to see things my way. If not, well, I'm sure you'll agree that your drawing breath from this world was an entirely optional exercise and that you're better off not being burdened with the whole job of inhaling, processing the oxygen and then exhaling again. Yes, that's right... I'd skip right past the usual math lesson utilizing your head and a lead pipe as a teaching aide, and step right up to the big guns. Thou Shalt Not Screw With My Peace and Quiet, that's Prime Directive number three for the new millennium we're so bravely strolling into.