On Anger

A few weeks ago, I was talking to a friend of mine at a party when he mentioned that he liked my blog. I was reasonably flattered, as I have assumed right along that in general the only people who would read it are those that have to, such as The Boy and The Liquor Fairy, and the occasional stalker who finds it by accident while trolling for victims. Also, I quite enjoy his meandering vitriol, which means that I count him in the .02% or so of the population whose opinions I don’t dismiss out of hand.

As we chatted, he mentioned that one of the things he liked about my blog is the fact that I’m so “angry.”

Hmm.

Even though I knew he meant it in a good way, my first response was to dispute that fact. “I’m not angry,” I protested, “I’m . . . not . . . I’m a pleasant person. I’m NICE.”

Who the fuck do I think I’m kidding? I’m not nice, I’m polite, and sometimes I can’t even manage that convincingly. Hell, I don’t even want to be nice. In fact, I am pretty angry. I’m not joyless or bitter about it, but I spend a decent amount of time in a state of low-grade rage.

Why? Well, god. There are just so many reasons.

I have been pissed about President Halfwit since the word go. I am pissed that he was elected the first time, and I’m REALLY pissed that he was elected again. He’s a fucking idiot of the first order, and I’m beginning to suspect he might be batshit crazy to boot. Do not even get me started on the rest of monsters in his administration.

I am tired of the Constitution and the Bill of Rights being read like lists of suggestions.

Speaking of the Bush administration, I remain pissed off at Ralph Nader. I will always be pissed off at Nader. If Nader’s teeth were on fire, I would not piss in his mouth. I will always, ALWAYS blame Nader for Bush. Every dead soldier in Iraq? Nader’s fault. As soon as the first woman dies after Roe v. Wade is completely gutted by those bastards on the Supreme Court, I’m sending him the picture of her bloodied corpse (which I feel certain will appear in the local paper or online). If he’s dead by then I’m taking it to his grave. I love a futile gesture as much as the next girl, truly I do. There is, however, a line between making a noble but futile gesture and being a megalomaniacal asshole.

While we’re on the subject of dead women, I’m sick of being a second class citizen. I am angry that we cannot manage to treat the decision to have a child as though it were anything but a flippant decision on par with picking a fucking handbag; one that is the exclusive province and problem of women. I’m angry that after all this time, people still talk to my boobs. I’m tired of a lot of things having to do with being a chick. I am sick of “women’s issues” being somehow different and inferior from regular “issues.” Hell, I’m mad that my first reaction upon being told that I’m angry was to insist that I’m not. I should be angry—I’m not stupid. My first reaction should not be to feel bad about that.

BUT, I have it lucky. No burqa. No child marriage. No dowry. I can leave my house. See a doctor. Go to school. I might be cranked about some of the bullshit that goes on in this country attendant on my having a uterus that goes on in this country, but at least I’m here. At least I don’t have a target on me, or a very low price on my head. At least I usually don’t feel expendable.

I am angry about reality television.

I am angry people who don’t have enough sense not to, at the very least, vote against their own best interest. Do you come from a LOT of money, preferably OLD money? No? Then why. The Fuck. Would you ever. EVER. Vote Republican? You stupid ‘git.

I am angry about those stupid health care personal savings accounts folks keep bandying on about it. The whole proposition of “People will choose more wisely if they are spending their own money,” is asinine. Yeah. I just randomly SPEND healthcare dollars. I go to the doctor because I love waiting and old magazines. I take birth control for shits and giggles, not because I don’t want to have a kid I can’t afford to feed. And when the time comes I need a mammogram? It will just be because I want to have my boobs mashed. Are there people who over-utilize healthcare resources? Sure, but most don’t. Most avoid the doctor unless they need to go, either for illness or for a checkup to prevent illness. Since most people don’t like waiting, co-pays, or needles, most people partake as little as possible in the healthcare system.

You know what will happen when people are forced to pay cash for their own healthcare, without assistance from insurance? Lots and lots of dying, punctuated with gangrene and tumors the size of grapefruits.

And finally (for now), I am angry that so many people don’t recognize the difference between “everyday” and “every day.”