
A look at 'public' anger as a legitimate reaction to a sometimes disfunctional political society.
May 31, 2004
Passionate Words: Short poem about passion versus anger.
Revenge Never Works: One upping another person will never make things better, only worst.
Sublimation: A Way to Truth and Freedom: Reasons why we should try to appease our unsocial desires instead of repressing them.
What Does Hate Mean Today?: Some thoughts on hate and political action.
Anger is often viewed as a personal 'psychological' problem, something aimed at specific individuals or caused by specific stresser's in an individual's life. It is almost always viewed in the negative, it's a personality flaw. But can anger be viewd as something larger, a reflection of alienation and as a fustration with a seemingly unchangable society?
There have been many people that have been labeled angry for things said in speech or in writing. I am not interested in personal anger, as much as anger directed towards disfunctions of the various systems around us; the reaction of alienation and fustration. People have mentioned that some of my work seems to reflect such an anger. There was Presidential Candidate Howard Dean who became known for the passionate Dean-scream and his anger. R.D. Laing's Politics of Experience and Birds of Paridise were claimed to be written in an angry tone. There were the Days of Rage in the late 1960s. Today's over-amplified music of the youth also seems to reflect anger at disfunctions in the system (although it doesn't seem to explain it in political terms like other ones).
And so forth: we all call these things grounded in anger, even though we know that most of them are grounded in legitimate fustrations over our political system. Anger is often expressed not only in powerful words, but sometimes even coarse language that would otherwise be unacceptable. To say these critiques of society are wrong, would be to place blinders over our own eyes, to decide not based on all choices, but only those who put a positive spin on everything.
It breaks my heart and makes me angry to see people abusing our planet and hurting each other people's liberties for no real reason above and beyond carelessness and fear. I particularly dislike when fear replaces rational policy making, when it limits our civil liberties and prevents us from becoming all that we can become. All of these things attack our human freedom and dignity, and as such make me angry. These are far from being personal issues, in deed they reflect a deeper sort of anger at the disfunctional world around us.
My tone in dealing with such issues is often reflective of this deep seated anger and alienation. While I try to avoid letting it float into other issues, it inevitably does at times. Causal writing puts convention in a second place seat, so it allows for a greater personal self to show through, so it's inevitable that anger will float from one subject to another. I do not believe this anger is destructive, but actually is productive as it allows me to have a greater focus, greater passion, and desire for what I really do.
Some might not call this anger but fustration. Technically, anger is a more personal term and fustration is a broader term, but I see no difference as long as the emotion is aimed at the system and not at specific persons, unless they are personally responsible for the so-called disfunctions. Personal conflicts are much different from public conflicts, as public conflicts are always legitimate (it's okay to have a difference in opinion—we live in a world of politics), but fighting and hurting persons is a totally different question.
At the end of the day, I think a lot of us are angry at the world around us and what it is becoming—as they say, America used to be a Helluva Good Place—and now it's something less. That anger caused by a disfunctional system translated into positive action for change can do a lot to better society. Get involved in politics, and take small steps. Nothing after all, was accomplished over night—at least not by the small man like you and I.