Rage, rage against the dying of the light

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rage at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

I've always thought that Dylan Thomas's poem was so expressive and nowadays the sentiments seem to be particularly apt. The older I get, the angrier I get and the more I rage. It's NOT GOOD because the list of targets for my rage seems to increase daily.

Mostly I am angry at injustice in its oh-so-many forms and at the people who perpetuate it.

I am angry at the willful ignorance that passes for politics these days. I am angry at a citizenry that won't do its homework, makes gods of lying "entertainers," and rewards politicians for negative and downright dishonest proclamations. (And on that last, I'm talking about ALL of them. Not just one party, even though there is a bunch that attracts especial venom from me). MAKE . IT. STOP.

I am angry about people who promise the moon and have absolutely no intention of delivering. I am particularly angry about people who do this while asking for my money, my time, my vote and my compassion.

I am angry about a society that puts profits before people, and actually rewards the robbers while it throws people out of their homes into the streets. I am angry at the selfishness of those who "have" and who seem determined to deny their fellow citizens a decent standard of living and some security because it might mean they have to give up some frills in their lives.

I am furious with people who have the power to help others--and refuse to do it.

I am angry with people who say "Have patience". People who don't have to worry about being homeless or having a job or going without medical care or being denied basic services. People who can afford to "wait" for justice for others because they already have all the "justice" they need.

I am angry with people who were born privileged but who have somehow convinced themselves that they have advanced on merit. Who believe that they have earned what they have, without ever once examining the unearned privilege of the socioeconomic status of their family and upbringing.

I'm angry about racism, sexism and homophobia. I'm angry at people who use these prejudices to oppose caring for the least among us and who bully, lie, and hate to oppress the weak and dispossessed.

I am angry about a society that celebrates vacuous celebrity and seems to be happy with a permeating meanness that impoverishes us all. A society that elevates the trivial and demotes the important.

Finally, I'm angry at myself. For not doing more. For allowing this impotent rage to bleed into my life and for allowing my rants to impact upon my relationships with the people I love.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.