This is a short satire written as an English assignment, but I liked the way it turned out, so I decided to post it here. While it may not be marching band, it is music. Please review!
Rhythmic Dehumanization
The year is 2020. Amendment 119 was passed two weeks ago, and already things have changed so drastically. I don't think it'll ever be the same. Amendment 119, the New-Age Music law, banned all forms of melodious music. Only one style could then exist-rap.
The world was thrown into an empty chaos. Violins, pianos, flutes, clarinets, and trumpets were thrown in the trash. Piles and piles of sheet music were burned. Known singers were monitored night and day to prevent them from performing their music, even when they were alone. Silence settled over America, broken only by outcries of despair.
Within the next few days, even the silence left the country, replaced by empty beats and spoken words. The population changed as well. Clothes became baggier, all proper grammar was forgotten and men treated women like an ugly piece of dirt on the bottom of their shoe. The people seen as "celebrities" seem to be the worst of them all. It was horrific and barbaric. Every day, more and more people were driven mad; but then again, maybe the entire country was slowly going insane without music.
Most of the people in America simply sat and watched the world go by, but of course, former musicians from groups ranging from the New York Philharmonic to the local marching band couldn't take it. They formed their own secret resistance group nicknamed the Noteleggers. They met in secret every night in an old Manhattan warehouse and practiced their music. They imported instruments from all around the world, and every type of musician was there to show that nothing could stop the music. But still, they got frustrated. They wanted to perform again. They wanted to feel that rush that can only be gained from sharing your talents with an audience. Who could blame them? The government had not just taken away their music. These musicians, young and old, strings, brass, vocals, and woodwinds, had their very freedom taken away. They became slaves to the silence around them, for their music made them free. Each time they sat down to play their respective instruments, they were joyful. If one was to take away another's joy, then what would a life be?
The Noteleggers' frustration led them to do an amazing thing: a public performance. After a warehouse meeting one brisk Sunday, the musicians gathered all of their instruments and assembled in a basic parade formation. They marched down to Times Square, keeping their instruments hidden until the right time.
Once the rebellious leader of the Noteleggers had stepped forward, the group started to form an arc. The leader made a movement with his hands, and all of the glorious instruments came into view. The leader made more consistent movements, and the sweet, glorious notes penetrated the New York air with a sonorous beauty.
People everywhere stopped everything. Anyone within earshot had a smile on their face, amazed at the quality of the music. A gargantuan crowd had gathered around the Noteleggers, but there was a group within that happy crowd that was not so happy.
As soon as the makeshift orchestra had hit the last, long, happy note, this group emerged, and it was clear for the first time who they were.
They were the Beatz, a huge government-supported gang that consisted of every last rapper in New York, which was a lot of people. Once the Noteleggers had hit that last, wonderful note, this group attacked. Instruments fell to the pavement in shock. The leader of the Noteleggers was captured, never to be seen again. The rest of the resistance group was captured, one by one.
The next day, all of the instruments from the group were gathered and brought to the warehouse, as well as the original sheet music that they had used. Then, the warehouse was burned by a mix of Beatz and government workers. The video was broadcasted everywhere as a reminder of what happens when the government laws are resisted.
As for the rest of the Noteleggers, they were given standard baggy attire and jobs in the rap industry. They simply blended in.
Silence overtook the country once again.