Hate

I hate Hate. First off, it’s taught, which is an unfortunate reality and something we need to completely understand before anything productive is to be done. Let’s start there, in fact. 

To teach Hate. This is something we see and experience all the time, albeit usually in indirect and often subtle ways. These days we hear of latent hate and the situation that exists in so many American homes - those run by parents of little to moderate worldly experience, yet boasting extreme views based on ignorance and inaccurate information. How many parents casually discourage spending time with the ‘other,’ how many xenophobic slips of the tongue are released before one’s child has reached the age of reason - the age whereby they may see through the thin facade of blissful bigotry masquerading as knowledge. 

Somewhat sadly, there is little to be done in homes like these. Far be it from even this boastful author to suggest that such parents should be forcibly removed from raising their children, even in a fashion that will only increase the hatred in this world. Actually. Hold up. Let’s go ahead and prescribe change for this cruel world. If not productive, what can a blog be? Merely the mental masturbation of a wasted writer banging on his keys, his ivory boogies? Or something more, something grand and something exquisite. Something, dare I say it, that has the power to change the world and mold the lenses through which we view it. 

Let this then be a productive, a prescriptive, a penetrating and penultimate blog. After this, there is only the great unknown. After this, there is only the cry of the moon, my friends.

d.