Redefining Hate

Coming of age in a new world

Photo by Andre Hunter on Unsplash

Since forever we’ve been told that, as conscious, caring, compassionate people, hate is wrong, that it never helps, that it always makes things worse, that it makes us just like the others that hate us, I no longer think that’s true.

Every time I read an article about the suffering endured by people disable by Long Covid, every time I read an article about how our lives were destroyed by a power structure that prioritized the economy over our health and the health of our children, every time I read an article about a population that has embraced “normal” and in so doing sacrificed everyone else’s lives, I hate them even more.

Hate, for me, is no longer a strong enough word.

Anyone who still takes precautions, anyone who still actually cares about others, anyone who refused to buy into the fiction that Covid is over probably feels this. Most of them are polite, concerned people who would be offended by the idea that they hate what is going on, so I will say the quiet part out loud.

I fucking hate each and every one of the bastards who allowed themselves to be gaslit by the propaganda.

I fucking hate the so-called compassionate bastards who will do anything in their power to marginalize and dismiss the horrors of this continuing threat.

I fucking hate the doctors, and dentists, and chiropractors, and physical therapists, and fitness professionals, and wellness fucks that openly and with impunity infect their patients and clients with a disabling and deadly virus.

I fucking hate that so many people have been cut off from their friends, and family, and the rest of the world because no one will take even the simplest of mitigations.

…and the word hate doesn’t even come close to describing the way I feel.

Unlike the accepted wisdom that hate will destroy you, that it will eat you up, that it will sicken you, I don’t feel that, at all. I feel stronger, I feel more powerful, I feel more energized by the darkness of my feelings toward the unconscious, unfeeling, and callous world that blissfully destroys the lives of everyone they come into contact with.

I believe that too much hate is not the problem, not enough hate is the problem.

There’s a place for love.

There’s a place for peace.

There’s a place for compassion.

…but that place is not here, and not now. Not when there are people who are actively trying to kill us.

It’s like someone pointing a gun at our heads.

Are we better people because we “love our enemies?”

Are we better people because we choose peace over war?”

Are we better people because we choose to have compassion for the deluded?

No, we’re not.

We’re patsies.

We’re rolling over and letting them have their way with us.

…and by not hating them enough, we’re letting them get away with destroying us.

I will never forgive them and I will never forget what they have done and I will, until the day I die, hate them for it.

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