The time is out of joint: O cursed spite,
That ever I was born to set it right!
~ William Shakespeare, Hamlet,
Act I. scene v.
Today I had a temper fit.
It had been building. In fact, it’s a wonder I didn’t lose my equanimity months ago.
The catalyst: I read a bit of non-faux journalism that suggests certain of the Powers That Be don’t think I’m—how shall I put it?—too big to fail.
And it didn’t set well. Hence the fit.
Let me be clear: It was not a major fit. No yelling, no screeching, no smashing of Waterford or Royal Doulton with Hand-painted Periwinkles.
Lobbing china at the hearth might be therapetic, as Barney Fife used to say, but it also ends with a lot of sweeping and mopping, and, if the S&M aren’t done properly, the tweezing of tiny participles* out of the soles of one’s feet.
I’m more of a venter than a lobber. The disadvantage of venting is that ventees think I’m either (a) complaining (not so, just saying how it is), or (b) wanting them to fix it (not so, just saying how it is).
But today venting seemed appropriate, so I engineered a venting fit. First, I cooled down. Active anger results in tangled thoughts and words. So I centered.
Then I emailed two of my elected representatives, stated my concern, and asked what they think about the issue. Next, I told them what I think and, in measured but no uncertain terms, advised them they’d better agree with me and act accordingly.
I do not expect them to agree or to act accordingly.
I do expect to receive, via email, replies so patronizingly and condescendingly irritating that I’ll be tempted to lob hand-painted periwinkles at the hearth.
But I shall not lob. I shall engineer another venting fit.
I do not expect to set everything right—after all, if Hamlet, who was a lot savvier than I, was unsuccessful at rooting out corruption in government, I doubt my paltry efforts would have much effect.
But I will use my time wisely. I will exercise my Constitutional right of Freedom of Speech.
I will email the Powers That Be.
And if the PTB find those emails patronizing, condescending, and irritating, I’ll have done what I set out to do.
*As my great-aunt Vara’s odd-job man used to say.