A reader asked me yesterday why so many of Postnoon’s columnists (myself included) were so angry all the time. I presumed he meant in print, because I hope we don’t walk around sneering at passersby and flipping the bird at errant citizens. Thankfully he did.
But what’s wrong with being angry at real and perceived injustices that take place all around us. I would rather be enraged than cynical; angry rather than delusionally optimistic. I am my own worst critic and I enjoy it…it keeps me on my toes and prevents the bugbear of complacency from setting up sticks in my thought processes. I believe that we in the media and the citizen at large have been wearing rose-tinted glasses for far too long. We have allowed politicians and authorities to get away with far too much with too little repercussion. Quite often it’s a case of misplaced jingoistic servility that stops many from going hammer and tongs at those complacent leviathans basking in someone else’s sun. It has been a concerted effort that has made me question everything: every motive and every sliver of praise. Such scepticism may sound sad indeed, but it does help you keep your eye on the ball. Be enraged, it helps. Rage against stupidity. Rage against laziness and its enablers. Above all rage against the machine that winds up our lives to the extent we become clockwork junkies looking for our next fix of primetime delusion.
The writer is the editor, Postnoon