Once upon a time I would've said noise or noise pollution, as several others have.
Then I thought of the essay On Noise (link), by Arthur Schopenhauer. Not reading German, I'm having difficulty figuring out when it was written. But I think he finished it sometime before 1840. However, the only substitution I would need to make to make this a replica of my own situation is "Harley Davidson" for "whip." Some days it seems like every white person in this town owns one (except me), all with some sort of modification that renders the muffler useless. A group of five or more going by outside at one time will literally render conversation impossible inside my apartment. They're that loud.
The more things change...
Quote:
But to pass from genus to species , the truly infernal cracking of whips in the narrow resounding streets of a town must be denounced as the most unwarrantable and disgraceful of all noises. It deprives life of all peace and sensibility. Nothing gives me so clear a grasp of the stupidity and thoughtlessness of mankind as the tolerance of the cracking of whips. This sudden, sharp crack which paralyses the brain, destroys all meditation, and murders thought, must cause pain to any one who has anything like an idea in his head. Hence every crack must disturb a hundred people applying their minds to some activity, however trivial it may be; while it disjoints and renders painful the meditations of the thinker; just like the executioner’s axe when it severs the head from the body. No sound cuts so sharply into the brain as this cursed cracking of whips; one feels the prick of the whip-cord in one’s brain, which is affected in the same way as the mimosa pudica is by touch, and which lasts the same length of time. With all respect for the most holy doctrine of utility, I do not see why a fellow who is removing a load of sand or manure should obtain the privilege of killing in the bud the thoughts that are springing up in the heads of about ten thousand people successively. (He is only half-an-hour on the road.)
There's also a fair number of Puerto Ricans with "boom-cars," but they're
nothing in comparison to the Harleys. And this is despite the fact that my apartment is directly on top of a P.R. barber shop. Plus the singer always sounds like he's having his nuts slammed into a drawer over and over (Ay-Yi-Yi-AAAAAAAAAAIIII!! !) so I can (sometimes) see the humor in the situation.
_________________
"The man who has fed the chicken every day throughout its life at last wrings its neck instead, showing that more refined views as to the uniformity of nature would have been useful to the chicken." ? Bertrand Russell