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Violence

Written by Laur
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Violence

violenceThe violence we do – we’re doing it to ourselves first and foremost. The anger. The rage. The clenched fist. The hissed word, spat out through our teeth, the cynical smile, the piercing sarcasm. The derisive laugh.

Aye, it feels good when we say it. When we’re standing there, blood coursing through our veins, high on adrenalin and spite. We won. I won. You lost – the argument, the fight, the competition – you bowed your head and just gave up. You loser. My anger reigned supreme.

It’s only after we cool down that our conscience kicks in. Regrets that come too late, after all that’s been said and all that’s been done. Some of us – the lucky ones – bow their head in shame, their lesson learned, and suffer through the consequences of their anger. Others are not that lucky.

It’s easy, giving in to a sense of righteousness. A post facto justification of all the things we did. “It wasn’t really that bad”, we say. “The other had it coming anyway”, we say. And pieces of our heart wash away – our good, kind heart, the one our mothers saw in us when we were little – and they’re replaced with cold, dead stone. A little bit more callous every day. A little bit more uncaring. So easy, walking down that road. Becoming just a hollow shell, loose pebbles rattling in from time to time.

I only wish my 16 year old self would not despise the man I have become.

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The winning streak

Written by Laur
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The winning streak

winning streak There are a few things as hilariously funny as a narrowly averted disaster. There’s the laughter itself – and then there’s the release of tension, the slight hysterics, the golden feeling that yes, your guardian angel sneaked one past the karmic gods. Way to flip good ol’ fate the bird there, buddy!

No matter what you do afterwards, be it work or leisure, there’s always that sweet taste in your mouth. You can’t fail. You lead a charmed life. Once more for the home team! Properly managed, that feeling could carry you onwards like a wave, reinforced with each new success, rolling over small failures – just flukes, really, this here is my day, sonny. It feels so good it’s addictive, and I bet many a gambler are doing it just for that total glow they get when everything feels just right and, like Mel Gibson in Maverick, you don’t need to look at that last card. You know it’s the ace of spades.

The funny part? We narrowly avoid thousands of disasters daily. The misstep you recovered from and promptly forgot about. The tailgater that hit the brakes just before you did. The revolving door that missed your hand with a fraction of an inch to spare. The freshly infected H1N1 carrier that remembered to put his hand over his mouth when he sneezed next to you. But none of them count, because we notice none of them.

Sometimes I wonder if luck has anything at all to do with it. What if luck is genetic, is something we got from ancestors with a history of being in the right place at the right time for some of the time, and in the wrong place at the right time for the rest of the time? What if that fabled human intuition – of which women are supposed to have loads – is a genetic characteristic reinforced by the natural selection of the luckiest bastards of the bunch?

That might explain why we laugh at the narrow escape. It’s nice to know our luck still holds.

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The blindness of the righteous

Written by Laur
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The blindness of the righteous

blindnessThe Merriam-Webster Dictionary doth define righteous as follows:

1: acting in accord with divine or moral law : free from guilt or sin

2 a: morally right or justifiable <a righteous decision> b: arising from an outraged sense of justice or morality <righteous indignation>

Tomes have been written about the first interpretation of the word. According to some religions, there are no righteous people in the world; we are all sinners here. Some of us became sinners just by being born. Others are working very hard on it as we speak. It is an interesting topic, and I might come back to it on another occasion.

No, it is rather the second meaning of the word that I would reflect upon in the following lines. It’s the “morally right and justifiable” deed that “arises from an outraged sense of justice or morality”. An outraged sense. Righteous. Right.

And when did outrage ever led to anything even remotely positive? A lynching mob may consider itself righteous in its outrage, no doubt fuelled by a keen sense of justice, or perhaps morality. The only problem is, justice and morality are subjective, relative values. Being an abhorrent human in the name of your outrage is never a good thing, regardless of how righteous you might feel. Because, believe you me, the feeling will pass. And if you have a shred of human decency, you will shoulder your burden of guilt for whatever outrageous deeds you enacted in your righteous rage. Righteous people are bulls before the cape. They’re blind to the consequences.

In Rwanda, 15 years ago, we saw again the rise of the righteous. Neighbours killing neighbours. Friends killing friends. One million people died under the knives of those who imagined that truth, justice and indeed, divine right were on their side. Let us all spare them a thought this day.

And next time you feel that righteous anger bubbling in your throat, take a moment – and consider the consequences.

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