This is my fucking nemesis:

I live in a neighborhood teeming with young children, so of course the business below my apartment employs a coin-operated horsey to swindle annoying post-hipster parents out of quarters.  Each ride lasts what I rationally believe to be about 60 seconds, although it’s hard to estimate because time slows to nearly a stop while the canned music plays: Dun! Duh, da-duh, da da da da, da na na na-nuh-nuh-ah! Again. And again.  And again.  And for two more hours after the school across the street lets out.

I like silence while I work.  I don’t like interruptions.  No phone calls.  No talking.  No radio.  No music.  No TV.  The click of the mouse and the rhythm of my typing are the only sounds with which I’m comfortable.  Not long ago, my girlfriend quit her job and spent a week with me in my apartment while I worked.  To this day she has no idea how close she came to a swift, brutal death.

But, my friends, I have won.  I’ve beaten life.  Because, after years of longing, I have finally purchased the one thing that makes me complete.  Behold:

Noise.  Canceling.  Headphones. My God, THIS is how life is meant to be lived.  I wear them all the time.  I’m wearing them now.  They’re drowning out a daycare class next door.  The singing, shouting, crying, stomping — all gone.  Blessedly gone.  Hey babies!  Yeah, you:











FUCK YOU.  I can’t hear you.  You too, Loudly Talking Into Cellphone at Airport Guy.  And if it isn’t my old friend, Raving Derelict on the Subway.  I see you going crazy, but all I can hear is Arcade Fire.

Pamphleteers, religious freaks, panhandlers, other people with headphones whose tinny residual music spills out of their headphones, motorcycles, cars with expensive stereos, the din of cafes — all silenced, negated.  These headphones will add five years to my life.

Anyway, this week’s Meast is… THE BACK OF THE END ZONE!

Oh, sure, there were other contenders. Matt Ryan’s perfect throw under pressure was the key to the Falcons’ last-second win, but it hardly seems right to give the Meast to a rookie. Well, a white rookie, anyway. Drew Brees was 26/30 (two of those were throwaways) for 320 yards and 3 TDs, but it was against the Raiders. And Kevin Williams notched four sacks, adding to Dan Orlovsky’s bad day. But let’s face it, no human being from that game deserves Meast honors.

We salute you, Back of the End Zone.  Subtle, omnipresent, unforgiving, and the difference in the Lions’ 12-10 loss to the Vikings.  Your Time Magazine cover is on the way, we’re sure of it.