There’s a word: defenestration. This is a word that refers to the act of throwing something, or someone, out of a window. Its Latin roots are “de-,” or “down from,” with “fenestra,” or “window.” This word was popularized by an incident that prompted The Thirty Years War, where, in Prague, in the early 17th century, two governors were thrown out of a window of a castle. This had happened before, in the early 15th century. These incidents were eventually referred to as the Defenestrations of Prague.
Charles Bukowski has a poem called ‘Radio with Guts‘ where (he’d) throw a radio out the window again and again when drunk. Actually, the radio would get launched through the window, the glass, but out it nonetheless. I imagine if the Prague castles in the early 1600s had glass partitions, those ranking officials would’ve crashed through them, as well. The Bukowski radio still works after it hits the ground below. The window needs constant repair, replacement. The process repeats: drunk, crash, muffled Elvis/Garrison Keillor.
There are stories of people jumping out of windows after the great stock market crash of 1929. Legendary parallelism. The visual commentary of it all. I imagine them falling in a zigzag way, sort of like how a stock graph looks.
September 11th. Those sounds.
I was in a hotel last week in Chicago and slid my room window open as far as was allowed. About two inches worth of city noise and 27th floor air. I looked for a quick fix to get the window open further, hoping to get more outside life in my room while the hotel was telling me that they, by limiting that outside, were trying to keep life in.