Everyone is low-key angry now
Negative vibe is a favorable undercurrent
Men like explosions, car chases and shoot outs in movies. I said it.
This presupposition underscores a theory that adrenaline-pumping misadventures are part of the male psyche.
It is part of a patriarchal culture of pops of aggression in music and art, psychology and government systems.
But kick-ass women enjoyed a little chest thumping, too.
Remember the good old days when Pink sang in So What:
Guess I just lost my husband
I don’t know where he went
So I’m gonna drink my money
I’m not gonna pay his rent (Nope)
I got a brand new attitude
And I’m gonna wear it tonight
I wanna get in trouble
I wanna start a fight
Na-na-na-na, na-na, na
I wanna start a fight
Na-na-na-na, na-na, na
I wanna start a fight!
Nowadays, these safety valves for letting off steam are being shut off because it is unacceptable to go around trashing people and circumstances in public. Sucker punching at the Academy Awards was universally booed.
Instead there is an undercurrent of passive aggression, which has taken root in our society. Gaslighting and ghosting needed definitions a decade ago. They are now part of our vernacular.
People are ball-up your fist angry with themselves, technology, the political parties, their careers, family… you name it. They have given up the thought that tomorrow will be better because we are facing a landscape of climate change, economic uncertainty and political instability.
You have heard of quiet quitting. Let simmering silently roll off your tongue.
The saturation of media and merchandise has bloated those overfeeding from it and alienated those who can not gain access proportionally. People scroll through social media to feel better about their condition, but often feel worse. The computer used to be about making connections and now it is about swiping yourself oblivious.
In research circles, when you have too much data it is no longer useful. Too little leaves you wanting.
The anger comes from both ends.
I have a supervisor who is perpetually dissatisfied with her employees. She wears her anger like Under Armour.
I have coworkers angry that the weather sucks and family angry about gas prices. Anger is the universal calling card it seems.
They gripe, shrug their shoulders and sit with their angst. Worst yet they bash anonymously if they can.
The post-pandemic bubble has burst and everything we thought we could do when we felt safe to leave the house and co-mingle fell short of expectations. We are angry.
Yet, rather than screaming from the top of our lungs, we are brooding like a doleful Mitski instead of indignant Pink.
This response is not only distasteful but defies my cultural upbringing. I would rather be ostracized for complaining loudly then accepted for burning up my insides with rage.
I want no one to question if I am anger. They will know it.
Megaphone, per favor.
