On Anger

 There's hardly anything more motivating than anger. For me, that is.

I suppose that I'm more often angry than I'm aware of or like to admit for anger belongs to the feelings that, at least in my view, aren't considered noble.

For most of my life, politics, culture, and the media were my main interests. Nowadays, they mostly make me angry. What I once believed would help me to understand the world, now increasingly looks like it is doing just the opposite – obscuring things as they are. They do that by attempting to make sense of something that is fundamentally incomprehensible.

Politics, culture and the media too often spell nothing but vanity, the celebration of the egos. I can't believe how long it took me to understand that.

Many years ago, Art Spiegelman was quoted as saying  that he had to turn his TV off because watching the news made him too angry. And, although I then sympathised with him, it took me years to finally feel this kind of anger.

There's however still another kind of anger I've failed to deal with. The anger that life does not conform to my expectations. For instance, I feel angry that we're ruled by idiots, that life is unfair, that I will have to die. 

Well, that is the way it is. I need to learn to live with how things are instead of how I wish them to be. Needless to say, I'm often angry with myself for failing to do that. It is a motivating anger.