the limits of fury

Being infuriated has its limits. Not that the issue at hand is any less infuriating, but the endless energy it requires to keep the fires bright ... well, it's tiring and reduces me, among others, I suspect, to a kind of helpless ooze in which any bit of bright, if mindless, news is preferable to the cloying, clawing outrage that others may still enjoy.

Skimming the news wires this morning, for example, I do not stop to read the latest story on how my dysfunctional government has temporarily avoided the "fiscal cliff" that threatened to impose some draconian cuts in services to the people the government was installed to represent and support. It is infuriating that in hard economic times brought on by lax oversight of banks and other financial institutions, those most directly affected are allowed to fight among themselves while the banks and other financial institutions escape unscathed. "Let them eat cake," seems to be the approach preferred by those with the power to ease the burden.

Or, more specifically, the "fiscal cliff" deal sidesteps the very real and very immediate need for funding of people on the east coast who were affected by Hurricane Sandy. The infuriation rises up: "What the fuck is the matter with you guys?! These are real people in real need and the best you can do is posture and pose and talk pretend-serious?!"

There are myriad issues that can light myriad fires ... bright, infuriated fires, whether among the prancingly well-informed or the beer-gut ignorant.

And then ... and then ... like the air seeping from what was once a bright balloon, the fury and frustration and righteousness just runs out of steam. There really is nothing to be done about sometimes cruel and frequently dumb hypocrisies and bits of thoughtlessness. They are as perennial as dandelions. Like anyone else, I can credit myself with a clearer, more thoughtful vision -- they are jackasses, but of course I am not! -- but clear vision and a couple of bucks will get you a bus ride.

Edmund Burke, the 18th century Irish statesman, once observed, "All that is necessary for the triumph of evil is that good men do nothing." The observation is a darling among those with a social conscience and an infuriation to stoke the flames. But I wonder without pessimism if it might not equally be observed, "All that is necessary for the triumph of evil is that good men do something."

There is much to commend social action, but one of its frequent and inappropriate adjunct assumptions is that social action will, ipso facto, eradicate evil. This is a step too far: Evil comes with the territory. This is not an excuse for doing nothing: It is an observation of facts, and being disheartened by facts is an indicator of a skewed perception ... and perhaps a half-assed explanation for infuriation.

Ah well ... so much idle chatter....

What seemed notable to me today as I skimmed the news wires was that I did not pause over the infuriating rape and death of an Indian girl or the never-ending and ill-attended slaughter in Syria or the potentially disastrous grounding of an oil ship in the Gulf of Alaska. No, what caused me to pause and savor was entirely less consequential....

The fact that Pakistan is second in the world in the production of bagpipes ....

The fact that a Massachusetts community has made plastic water bottles illegal ....

Or the tale of a Florida man, flying home from North Carolina, who spotted from the air a thief making off with a trailer parked at his house.

Digestible, bite-sized, interesting and carrying with them no sense of helpless fury. It was like the deliciousness of a toasted marshmallow ... not much sustenance, but tasty in some small way.

Am I learning or am I lazy? I have no way of knowing. I'm just saying what happened.