Saturday, September 08, 2012

Blessed Are Those Whose Anger Flowers Early

I believe the Italians have a saying: beware the anger of a patient man.

The reason being, I am sure, that the anger of someone with a short fuse who is prone to ignite at the merest whiff of a spark tends to be short-lived. It tends to be all noise and no fire. The damage radius remain relatively local.

I’m sure there are exceptions and I am at pains to point out that this is by no means an empirically proven thesis.

The corollary, however, is certainly true. The anger of a man who remains for years, if not decades, patient, calm, tolerant and tranquil must be devastating when it finally blows. We are talking thousand mega-tonne detonation. Something that wipes out half a continent. The collateral damage must be catastrophic.

I much regret being so tolerant, calm and level-headed. I regret being a patient man. Especially in the face of certain situations and circumstances over the years that when viewed logically and with perspective plainly call for someone to be given am almighty slap. I am, of course, talking metaphorically. I abhor all kinds of physical violence. (Unless it is done to my enemies).

Much better, much healthier to open the bottle a little every day and let out a small fizzing demon every now and then, as the need arises. The pressure is relieved. The beast has its moment in the sun and tires itself out. It retires and the bottle is resealed. All is made safe.

When this is not done, however, the beastie grows. It grows inside the bottle. It grows and grows. The bottle begins to chafe. The ever tightening constraints of the bottle then adds to the beasts anger. The pressure builds.

Until it get to the point where it is not ever safe to open it. The beast inside will run riot. The beast inside will tower over everything and level the entire city. It is much too strong now to be loosed upon the world. So the bottle top is tightened. You try to forget the demon is there but, of course, as is the way of things, the beast grows most quickly in the dark, most voluminously when it is ignored.

But the bottle cannot hold it forever.

The bottle is becoming more and more brittle with age. The will to keep the stopper held in place is become weaker, becoming compromised.

The effect is a nuclear countdown that cannot be deactivated.

You can cut the red wire, the blue wire or even the yellow but it will make no difference. If anything you will only speed up the clock.

Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.


22 comments:

Anonymous said...

I lose my temper at the drop of a hat. It's very cathartic! But I'm slowly getting better at controlling it. Which is interesting then that someone who has spent a life controlling it is now finding it harder. Nowt so queer as folks. I wonder if you will spend your later years saying 'I don't beeleeeeive it' and I'll be all 'caaaaarm down, caaaaaaaalm down' !

Anonymous Kelloggsville :)

Steve said...

Kelloggsville: controlling it takes practise... which means you have to have opportunities to lose it in order to learn control!

libby said...

When I was a barmaid the gaffer warned me to 'keep an eye on the quiet loner' as he was more likely to be the really mental/hard man, than the noisy clown in the corner.
Also, if you are in a 'ready to blow' mood Steve, then I am glad I didn't call in to see you yesterday...I was this close (imagine thumb and forefinger together..)...

Jon said...

Ira furor brevis est I believe is the saying attributed to Horace. I try and channel my (these days very low level) anger into growing things and making jam. We have a lot of jam, even so.

Are you pissed at anyone in particular, mon brave?

Gorilla Bananas said...

What you've described could be suppressed rage or you might just be suffering from wind. Whatever it is, my advice is to fart it out. Revenge is a dish best eaten with beans.

Steve said...

Libby: you;d be absolutely fine. My anger is directed against a specific minority...

Jon: very particular indeed. Jam might help. But semtex would help better.

Gorilla Bananas: if I could muster a really posionous fart into someone's face that would defintely help.

Nana Go-Go said...

Best piece of advice I can offer to those in the path of the volcanic eruption that is about to ensue is......run!He's gonna blow!!!

the fly in the web said...

I'd go for the semtex option.
Not so sticky.

Steve said...

Nana Go-Go: and the prize for the best double entendre goes to...

The fly in the web: a helluva lot more cleaning up to do afterwards though. But hell, I can live with that.

Being Me said...

Anger is also passion. And from anger stems the impetus to change xo

Steve said...

Being Me: I either need a direct link with you or just have you sat on my shoulder whispering wisdom continuously into my ear.

Tenon_Saw said...

My blogs have gone but I am still following you.

Steve said...

Tenon_Saw: and for that, sir, I am highly honoured... though sad that you have removed your blogs.

Trish @ Mums Gone To... said...

I'm not sure what my temperament is -maybe I just grumble and whinge a bit.

Owen said...

Just give us a little advance warning before the stack blows, so we can head for the Himalayas... as I'm not sure I want to be here when all of England and much of northern France goes up in the conflagration that is apparently coming, patiently...

Lady Mondegreen's Secret Garden said...

It's a paradox that trying to treat everyone - and I mean everyone, even Gorilla Bananas - with tolerance and respect goes against the biological need to vent your spleen.

Steve said...

Trish: the female of the species is more dangerous...

Owen: there will be a 5 minute warning when the klaxon sounds...

Lady Mondegreen's Secret Garden: "biologival need" - exactly! That's my defense and I'm going to use it!

Nota Bene said...

Running for cover...just in case

Rol said...

OK, you're scaring me now.

Steve said...

Nota Bene: only, there is nowhere to run.

Rol: what do you mean now?

Anonymous said...

So true. My adult daughter and I are, we say like a summer thunderstorm, we make a lot of noise but it passes quickly. It was a very stormy summer for both of us. But I agree, the one who holds it in, particularly in these very trying times, is more scary. More like the storm of the century?

Steve said...

Anonymous: better a blustery shower than an all-destroying hurricane...!