The gods are angry tonight. And I am too.
It is a steady anger, heaven-sent and ever ready to be dared. When it finally and magically manifests itself, poets will have no words for it. Not even Homer will provide the goods. Like a spell cast in the air, all we'll be stunned, and whole clouds will be spun. The submissive will sit in shame, scared to make their appearance, because they rejected this feeling in themselves once and thus, forever killed it. They saw anger as an ugly thing, but they forgot that so too is indifference. Men who are uninterested in the lives of their neighbors, and are unwilling to suffer alongside them, do not deserve to succeed.
Anger has its advantages, and it is something that must be nourished, but rarely acted upon, so that when the right time does come it's power to penetrate the world's heart will less likely be defeated. Rage, on the other hand, is a feeling for fleeting natures, and easily crushed.
The stubbornness of anger is it's chief quality, and whoever possesses it becomes unconquerable. While those without it lie more afraid and intimidated every day.
Before you think anger is crazy, ask yourself what is not crazy? Is not sitting on your couch day after day just as crazy, and even pathetic? Giving up our power, accepting this reign of terror as a fact of 21st century life, and placing ourselves in lockstep with psychopaths, is by far more crazy than expressing hatred for the lying tyrants who are seeking to rule our destinies.
Only dictators and their propagandists vilify anger. Angels embrace it. And so will I.
