Sinister Orkestar

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My third-grade teacher liked to talk about “the power of music,” but she didn’t know anything about it. That’s what they used. That’s how they got inside our heads, and that’s how they eventually killed us. Every radio, every speaker–hell, every resonant surface in the country began playing strange new music, fascinating pieces that spellbound everyone who heard them. It was something much deeper than hypnosis, something crippling. I was seven or eight at the time, and I remember–vaguely–sitting by the radio with my mother. It’s blurred in my mind, like a dream you can’t remember the details of. The first memory that seems clear is of waking up to silence–deep silence. Like the whole world was dead. And it was, or most of it. But I was alive– if barely–and for only one reason that I could see: the battery in my hearing aid had died.

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