Synaptic memories triggered visions of joy shots being fired into the air after an Afghan beheading. But I was in Bangkok, this wasn’t the Desert Storm campaign of shock and awe , the fifty first Bolivian coup or a bloody clash over the dummied up election results in Zimbabwe. From my comfortable perch on a wrap around balcony I was the one held in awe by a growing wave of pyrotechnic and auditory marvels that had begun to wash over the landscape like a flash flood from west to east. With dusk’s first creeping shadow, a multicolor blanket of electric fire began to bubble up across the entire panorama of darkening concrete as the sunset gave way to a spectacular full moon rising to announce the Thai festival of Loy Krathong. Out of an undefined signal connecting the community consciousness came a simultaneous burst of rockets, flares and fiery lanterns lifting off from vacant lots, backyards and rooftops turning the night sky into a sea of spinning bursting spontaneity and lazily floating fire. This was accompanied by an unbroken cacophony of fireworks in strengths ranging from the staccato pop of fingerling firecrackers to shock waves of explosive concentration. If mass joy could have a specific sound to differentiate it from all others, this should be it. No other connotations could be attached to this outpouring of good will from pure hearts. This could never be confused with the blood sated ululation of crowds after a public stoning, or hand gun air shots after a lopsided victory against an unarmed opposition, or even the cynical huzzah raised after a successful day on the stock exchange…this is what happy looks and sounds like…180 degree’s of happy is a good thing to watch.