A great many people live lives full of hate. People think they can compartmentalize it, so it doesn’t infect everything they do, but they’re wrong. It’s a suffocating evil that infects every part of the spirit. I’m impressed by their dedication, though. As I’ve discovered over the last few weeks, hate is hard to sustain; it takes work.

Even rage has a “best before” date in my psyche. Ditto my efforts at loathing: it’s empathy that does me in. I’m better at maintaining low-level contempt for the hate-fueled choices I witness by far too many. Still, even with that, battle fatigue prevents it from becoming actively passionate.

That and a quote by Alice Miller I once read and took to heart: “contempt is the weapon of the weak and a defence of one’s own despised and unwanted feelings.” Plus, there’s the worry that a constantly curled lip will give me weird wrinkles – I already have lip problems due to partial paralysis.

I don’t want to let the hate go. I want to want to reign fire down on those who’ve done me wrong or pissed me off. Unfortunately, my lifelong commitment to being friendly and kind is doing me in. Sometimes I worry those qualities make me a milquetoast.

I’m not keen on sorrow, nor am I a fan of grief. That’s what lies underneath the ugly and why I’m so enthusiastic when it comes to hating and taking offence. My parents are now on their final leg, and I’m definitely not a fan.

All things being equal, this hasn’t been my favourite year. I thought last year was a hellscape, but apparently, 2021 heard the accolades and was all, “hold my beer.” ^[i]

We’ve got the pandemic that never ends, death and disorder, ugly politics, and the collapse and necessary restructuring of my life. Add to my mom’s lung cancer and dad’s dementia-hastening pneumonia the kidney infection I thought might take me out, and I’m in a permanent semi-daze fueled by “wtf?”

At least we still have the climate-related wrath of God.

Where I live has gone to hell via flooding, and it doesn’t look like we’ll be leaving anytime soon. I feel bad for the people who’ve never been before: the first trip to hell is always a shock.

An atmospheric river buried my part of the Fraser Valley in copious rain, floods and mudslides: the rest of British Columbia has also been brutalized. Thank God science-deniers are still clinging to their false prophets. Literal tons of dead livestock and a province rendered nearly impassable are singing the truth about the dark days to come. I expect far-right socons will pay attention when the economic pain hits. They’re going to be surprised by the speed, though I expect to see misdirected, uneducated blame for quite some time to come.  

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I’m not proud of the thoughts I’ve had these past few weeks, though thoughts aren’t the same as actions, and mostly my actions are benign. The worst you can say about me these days is that I’m nasty with the truth on Twitter. ^[ii]  Besides, I think fate and karma can cut me some slack. I’ve been gut-punched by life in a big-time way, historically speaking.  I may have temporarily lost my way, but I’m finding my way back to true north.  Interestingly, this period of rage has left me feeling sharper, especially when it comes to personal and familial relationships and the things I want in my life.

Besides, from what I can see, a life lived in hate makes you ugly, stupid, small, and fat, and none of those features appeals.

What do you know: it turns out there’s still some rage rolling around inside after all.

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^[i] 2020: devastating wildfires in Australia, a near-stumble into WW3, the global COVID19 pandemic that is still hitting us hard, the rise of the ugly far-right.

^[ii] I suspect my targets would challenge my definition of “truth:” they’d be wrong. Also, I have, in the past, at times, been extremely not nice. One could even go so far as bad.