Anger…

Nothing lasts forever.  You know that. Not even anger.  It fades and is repressed, and well…other things become more important.  I guess that is where the count-til-ten thing comes in.  I was always told as a kid that I had a quick temper.  I did a lot of counting, trying to control it. I have most of my life.  Before I get to ten, I usually find a reason not to react negatively.  To a person…to a situation. Sometimes it has worked.  Sometimes it hasn’t. 

I remember a gang in Jr. High(that is what we used to call middle-school). It was comprised of a big curly-haired guy, Jim, that had failed a couple years and was head and shoulders above most of the rest of us, a few toadies and the leader.  The one at the helm of this crew was a smart-assed little shit who’s very nature begged confrontation.  My first encounter with “short-man syndrome”.  Don’t get me wrong…he wasn’t just mouthy…he loved to back it up.  A real fighter.  Under “aggressive” in the encyclopedia, this kid had several entries.  Anything he waded into that he saw he couldn’t handle was usually finished by Big Jim, his back-up.

Most boys in the school deferred to their rule. If the gang needed  money, or were just feeling particularly pushy…well their victim was quickly abandoned by the rest of us.  They got their money or their sadistic satisfaction, and most everyone else turned a blind eye.  I’m sure most of you men went through such circumstances in your boyhood.  It happens.  It always will, I guess.  I was no different.  When I saw them beating hell out of some kid, I walked away.  Usually.  It wasn’t any of my business.  The kid probably had it coming.  Until one day.  The afore-mentioned gang leader had a friend of mine up against the building with a club in his hand threatening to beat him senseless if he didn’t give him money, or say uncle or some such.

I walked up to my friend and told him we had to get home and that it was getting late.  “He ain’t goin nowhere till I get finished with him”, the little hoodlum said.  I merely said, “he’s leaving with me now”…all the while counting in my head.  The bully looked at me and released my friend.  Since I was a good foot taller than the kid, he just said “this ain’t over, pal”.  I knew it wasn’t.  But we walked away uninjured.  That day.

Of course a week didn’t go by that I was confronted in a hallway by my new enemy.  I started counting when I saw him coming.  He had a few members of his crew with him and so a renewed courage to finish what I had started.  Unfortunately for him, I got to ten before he even had a chance to throw a punch.  I snapped.  I picked him up and literally threw him head-first into a row of metal lockers, denting a couple of doors with his cranium in the process.  He slid to the floor and everyone scattered.  A teacher witnessed the whole thing.  Even his lummox of a friend, Big Jim, just stood there gawking as the kid attempted to get up.  “What did you do that for?” he screamed as we were both dragged to the principal’s office.  I was suspended and the smart-ass was put on notice to keep clear of me for the remainder of the year…which he did.
Now I am not relating this story to brag about my prowess then or now.  It is not meant as a vain attempt at heroism on my part, in the least.  You often ask yourself “I wonder what ever happened to so and so”.  Jim finally passed the 9th grade and went into the Navy,but my diminutive adversary was in and out of jail most of his young adult life.  Then one day while being stopped for a traffic violation, he pulled a gun and murdered the cop.  He was executed for the crime.  He was 30 years old, I believe.  I guess I count myself lucky that I never came upon him again in my adult life.  The guy was not right.  There are such people in the world.
This is a true story.  And although not meant to be a “tale of brave Ulysses”, to me it speaks to something I am at a loss to find in others.  What makes most people angry enough to get to ten and still be upset enough to do something about it?

There are so many short men in seats of power it seems.  All with their gang members.  They are not right.  They deserve a countdown…then a reaction.  And I am not talking about peaceful protest or civil disobedience.  Or turning a blind eye when some other guy is getting hell beat out of him.
Maybe I am still a bit quick-tempered.  But even if you are the long-fuse type, hasn’t it burned down yet?  Haven’t you reached ten several times and are lying to yourself about how you should finally react? 


I do a delicate balancing act on this site.  I don’t preach violence…but I am amazed there isn’t more of it.  And I don’t mean manufactured “lone-gunman” human interest stories.  Those evening news tales meant to keep you counting ten for fear that you will finally snap.  How many more rights do you let them take from you?  How many more people in the world do you let them kill in the name of their profit, and in your name?  How long will you look for a job?  How much more interest will you pay them on their loans for your very subsistence?  How many more lies will you listen to?  When do you snap?

I always felt that if I could count ten…and was still fighting mad, then I had a perfect right to be. This has always been my “anger management” technique.  It works.  Maybe you’re too comfy.  If so, please don’t vilify congress-critters for deifying israhell in exchange for the almighty dollar.  Not to me.  I’m busy counting.

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13 thoughts on “Anger…

  1. You are right timster this has gone on long enough.You cannot reason with a bully or show any signs of perceived weakness,otherwise you are gonna be walked all over. that school bully tale was a great analogy as to how things really are in the world.at the moment it is palestine that is the kid in the global playground getting the beatdown ,but who 's going to be next.I never thought i'd say this but…its time to get mediaeval on their assses.Those that do not listen..must feel.

  2. Personally, I was terrified of my temper once I realized I had grown one somewhere during my adult years. It did not manifest until the political rows that began when I was a young teen…. with my father. And oh that was powerful!It took me awhile to get it under wraps once I had it. I never knew about counting to ten. Heck I grew up with four brothers! I could never quite understand my fear of confrontation and hatred of hot exchanges when I also had a temper like I did.Somewhere along the line, I learned about the damage just being angry can cause to your own health and that was enough to begin to work with. It was not worth the eczema and serious indigestion that would plague me for days after an outburst. AlsoThe deep spiritual side of me feels that we are surrounded by very evil entities… and our upset, our emotions, especially the negative ones that we see so many more of these last decades, this is their food! Their manna! Just for that reason, I began to own my every emotion, take responsibility and watch it. This anger… it is what the dark forces wish to have us immersed in. Sorry…. I am rambling. It was another insightful post and thanks for sharing..

  3. "I don't preach violence…but I am amazed there isn't more of it."I have stated as much myself… really.FUCKING weenies. Absent my wife & kids, I would either be dead, or many others would be. A [teenage child] niece of mine was raped… RAPED; I still cannot believe that my own brother did not dismember the asshole… or at least ask me to. He trusted "the system." No shock, it failed, he walked, and STILL the father did nothing. Is that even worse than what the "government" is doing to us?Once again, I tell you, that I am in a holding patern awaiting divine intervention… seriously. I honestly believe that this will occur, at the latest, within this calendar year… if I am still here come January 2013, many others will start disappearing… or enjoying some life-long penalties.Fuck forgiveness, those fuckers should swing.On another note: my wife saw a representative bumper sticker the other day… "Fuck you, you fuckin fuck!""Mad" would be a gross understatement.

  4. Hey Timster,…Geez, we live in such parallel universes.Noor my sweet maiden, if anyone ever fux with yoo again, let me flog the bastard honourably! Not much of a Knight in Shining Armour, really, booze is often an issue; but I can do a pretty good impression of one in a dimly-lit Bar. SAVE! If I should perish in the defence of your honour; drink to me darling, drink to me!veritas

  5. Hi Timster!Thank you for your wonderful story. It brings to mind Thoreau who was so gentle and loving, but when it came to John Browm or the governments lies, he never backed down!!When I think of my anger, this is what I do. With our rage we tend to either repress it or indulge it in some way. And Iwhat i try to do is something else. I try to just be with the anger and really feel it. It is like a hot potatoe, we are always trying to take it somewhere, it is so hot!But I think it is there not because of the bully but because it is mine and I have a chance to learn more about myself. The bully may have even helped. And when I stay with this hot potato, it burns me and reveals me. Underneath it I find my tears and my wounds and so I allow that to heal me. See, the bully cannot feel his feelings, he is a coward! And I feel that my courage in trying to understand my own hurts somehow helps the whole earth!!I have a sweet bully story too Timster, where I triumphed unexpectedly. I was having a horrible encounter with someone close to me and yes I was and had been bullied by this one so many, many times. And I couldn't push it down and if I had directed it at him god knows what would have happened!I grabbed a garden tool and proceeded to his truck and bashed in the windshield. I was so clear and sure, it felt so good. Well if you knew this one you would say uh oh, he's after her!! But, no, I found him slumped in a chair crying!So if I had to choose I would say express rather than repress, always!! Never repress!! But try to feel your anger and heal your own wounds which run so deep!Noor, I appreciated your words! Four brothers!!! I too had always feared confrontation and I feared my own anger. I keep practicing what you are doing, simply owning it. Marigold

  6. Sorry – I think many people are in that holding pattern. Heaven help the chosen ones when we all decide to land this craft! Thanks for the comment and the personal story.

  7. Hey Timster,…43 inches of scar tissue on my head alone! Truly. Why did the joogle yids stop the follow-up comments thinga-majig? It is such a chore to remember where one has blathered, particularly if one has 43 inches of scar tissue on their head alone!Hey, lurv that podcast doover, what a great thinga-majig that is!I think everyone should use the word "thinga-majig" in a sentence, as part of their next Blog-post, what larks, Copperfield, what larks!Now then, where'd I leave my Meds?veritas

  8. Amazement has long since given way to wonderment and resignation. Most people will march willingly to whatever end someone in authority deems fitting. Until they don't. Then we start over.

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