My Anger is Raging

Who is my anger raging at? Specifically, someone I've never met, will never meet, and have no interest in ever meeting: the sub-human, Chester Stiles. Generally, my anger is directed at those in our society, and it's not strictly an American thing, who think that they can do whatever they want, whenever they want, just because they want.

I was thinking about it, and I certainly don't want to come across as "a middle-aged, crabby, prude", but it does seem that the younger generations are, in general, more apt to think that they can have or do whatever they want, just because they feel entitled.

Part is instant gratification. Look how many foreclosures there are today. Record numbers. It's partly because of the corruption in the mortgage lending industry, and partly the desire of young couples to have what, or better than, their parents have. Their parents spent decades getting what they've got, but their kids want it now. But this is indulgence that usually doesn't effect anyone other than the people involve and their credit ratings.

My anger is directed at those who give no consideration to others. Those who speed and cut in and out of traffic, and run red lights. Those who break the law because they want something I have: material goods, identity, a bank account, citizenship, governmental benefits and live off the government because they don't want to work (note the "don't want", I didn't say "can't work"). Let's not forget those who are just rude because they simply exist. And, yes, those who rape a three-year-old for whatever reason (no reason could possibly be good enough).

What can I do about my anger? I does me no good to internalize it. I'm not going to change the world by writing about it. The only thing left is to change my reaction to it.

But you know what? If I lose my anger toward criminal behavior, rudeness, and just plain bad behavior, I'll became apathetic and not care. I'll become part of the problem. And that will be a tragedy. When we begin to not care about society, society will begin to die. I don't have the answers, but maybe I can bring them out into the light so they can be seen. It's when we hide our faults as a nation we begin to forget who we are.

And forgetting who we are would be the tragedy.